Chapter 19 - The Last Silvite Civil War
Both sides prepare for war. One side to defend their right to retake lands stripped away from them so many generations ago... the other to defend the ideals of the hero that gave his life for the cause of equality.
Which side is right? The moons do not care.
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Ryne was tense. It didn't matter that two of the people he loved most in the world were standing at his side. It didn't matter that they were on their way to rescue the third person. It didn't matter that he was decked out in so much armor he looked like something sub-human. He was still tense... and afraid.
"Yours is the most important job of all." Elder Philia had briefed them all earlier. "It is your job to sneak into the Sylvias complex and disarm the Zelos Fist weapon, while the rest of us will surprise them with a full frontal assault. Today, there is to be a Silvite Civil War. The last Silvite Civil War if I have anything to say about it."
To him it almost felt like there was an entire army behind him, ready to help free his mother, though he knew the fact that it was his mother had very little to do with it. They were on a mission to destroy the weapon that gave their brothers the edge, to take the power out of their hands and stop them before their forces had a chance to invade. Many people were going to die today... and all for an ideal.
It was beyond him how all these people could give up their lives for this one idea... that all people were equal and had the right to be free. It was a great thing to believe and defend, but to give up your life seemed to be a bit of a waste. Life was the most important thing to Ryne. The life of the people he loved.
Ryne ran his finger around the edge of the neck brace/armor that protected his neck and jaw-line and ran up about halfway up his head, leaving most of his wild white hair exposed. They'd tried to put a helmet on him, but he'd drawn the line there. He'd never been one to wear any armor in the first place. The fighting style his father had taught him all focused mainly on offence and dispatching your enemy quickly and efficiently. He was taught not to get his at all... and his father was an excellent teacher.
"You look a little uncomfortable, Tiger." Jay said, grinning at him from his right.
"Easy for you to say," Ryne said, looking her over, "Looks like they gave you mostly leathers."
"Well, what can I say? They couldn't stand to cover up my perfect figure."
And as he looked at her more, he began to wonder if maybe there was little truth to that statement. Her outfit was made more for flexibility and speed, rather than for full protection. It would give her a little protection from glancing blows and projectiles, but any close quarters conflict would be disastrous. Her edge was in her deadly aim with knives, a skill she'd first unveiled in the jungles of Ixa'Taka, taking down the beast that had attacked her brother, and given Ryne his scars with three well placed blades. She wore two bandoleers full of throwing knives she'd found in the armory.
The only weapon her wore was the Sword of Delasaris, as it had come to be known to him. The warriors who surrounded him all stared at it and whispered in hushed tones when they'd first seen the infamous weapon. It was strapped in a new back harness that had been specially made for it yesterday, the day they'd first discovered that it had come with him and had survived the ages in perfect condition. It was true that only Leos and Jaycera could use it to its full potential, but he'd grown fond of it and Jay had said she'd rather him carry it anyway. He felt somewhat insect- like with all the pieces of dull black armor covering his shoulders, torso, and even his legs and boots. They'd told him it had been made for optimum flexibility and stealth, while allowing maximum defense as well. He was pretty sure they'd lied about the flexibility part, but it was very quiet.
His father opted to go for his signature twin cutlasses, which fit his unique fighting style better than anything else. He was wearing less armor than Ryne which spoke volumes about his skill with his weapons of choice, and was wearing clothing that could only be described as "Silvite- like". It consisted of a white tunic with bronze trim which came down to his knees though was slit up to his waist, a thick cumber bun thing and a clasping belt, with pants, boots, and a chest-plate that covered his chest and abdomen. He looked every bit the hero that had saved the planet once.
The rest of the crew of the Last Hope were covered in just about everything that had been available. They had decided that there was no way they were going to be left out of the action... or rather Wallin decided for them. Ryne thought he was just edgy about being left with the strange, emotionless people they'd been staying with. It was like putting a clown in a group of morticians... you just don't do that to a clown.
"Well... when do we get this party started?" Wallin asked, rocking on the balls of his feet, and trying as best he could to clasp his hands behind his back, though his armor wouldn't allow it.
"We're being transported directly onto the battlefield, Sly, or weren't you listening when we were briefed?" Rafe asked, knowing the answer was 'no'.
"I tried, but you know how I get with droning voices going bla, bla, bla, bla, bla..." He replied droning on into nothingness. "You'd think they'd be even a little excited about rushing to their deaths, but nooooo, all we get are sullen, living statues..."
"Not all of us are so sullen." Celeste said, finally joining their group, topping the body count to nine people. Ever since she'd come back to this place she called home, all of the ice queen nature that had become so cliché for her had melted away... which was odd, because everyone else in the place acted exactly as she did when they'd first met her.
"Well, good to see that you've finally decided to join us." Rafe said, smiling slightly. "I thought you'd decided to fight with your people on the open battlefield."
"I was trained to be a spy, not a warrior. I decided my skills and knowledge of where you are going to be would be better appreciated here." She said simply, "Besides, I lack a weapon."
"Why don't you have one of those weird, floating, blobby thingies?" Wallin asked innocently, noticing the countless number of creatures bobbing about the room like huge flying tadpoles.
Celeste smiled sadly. "I did once..."
"Umm... Sorry if I brought up a touchy subject..." Wallin said, turning red from embarrassment for the first time Ryne had ever seen.
"You didn't," she said, pausing for a moment, "It's just that Tylen was the only friend I had before he died and I met all of you..."
"I know what you're talking about." Vyse said unexpectedly, "My wife once told me that her metamorph, Cupil, was her only friend after Ramirez left to find the moon crystals."
"The same Ramirez who brought the Rains of Destruction on Valua was a friend of your wife?" Celeste said, blinking her eyes in a surprised expression.
"That's a new one on me..." Rafe said, whistling.
"He wasn't the same person then." Vyse explained, "When he actually got to Arcadia he came into contact with a corrupt Valuan admiral named, Mendosa... well... long story short, he saw all the bad that was in mankind, rather than the good things. His thinking was tainted by his bad experiences, then Galcien came into the picture and somehow won his loyalty..."
"And he ended up killing thousands of people, my family included." Jerem interjected.
"Yes, he did." Vyse said, fixing the man who was around the same age as him a steely glare. "And he paid for his sins with his sanity and his life."
Wallin clapped his hands, fending off the tensions that were building. "Well, what does it matter anymore? It's ancient history! Let's go make some history of our own, shall we?"
"I couldn't agree with you more, Wallin." Vyse said, adjusting the belt around his waist that held his twin cutlasses into place, "I always did like the 'making history' part better than the 'studying history'"
Ryne was about to ask how much longer it was going to be before they were going to get shot out to wherever it was that they were going to shoot them, when the whole huge circular room resounded with a humming sound, the walls taking on a luminescence of their own.
Again he found himself in a great ocean of blue, though the thousands of soldiers he's expected to be here as well were unnervingly missing. He supposed it wasn't all that surprising when he thought about it. The only people here with him were those who were going to the same place he was.
"Good luck, Team Last Hope." Were the last words he heard from a disembodied voice as his body came apart at the seams, shooting through space to be rebuilt elsewhere.
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"Ready all troops for war." Vaulrik said to his second in command, a white haired young man with ice blue eyes.
"What's going on, Sir?" Denison asked, his eyes wide with wonder.
"The rebels are on their way here right now, traveling through the void." He answered briskly, his long stride working its way toward the atrium, Denison and Leos trying to keep up on both sides.
"But sir, how could that be? The rebels have only used hit and run tactics, why would they attack in full power now?"
"Their cause is getting desperate. Their aim is to stop us from taking Arcadia back, and we ship off this rock tomorrow, do we not?"
"Yes sir, I shall inform the soldiers, sir." The second in command said, leaving Vaulrik's side and hurrying to the warrior's barracks.
"Master, if I may ask, where are we going?" Leos asked, looking noticeably antsy.
"You know full well where we are going, don't play the fool with me, Boy."
"Yes, but... why?"
Leos' body slammed against a grey, curved wall, joints cracking as he hit.
"If you cannot use the instrument the gods gave you, what good are you to me?" Vaulrik spat, his hand raised in an odd looking clutch. "Think boy, THINK!"
"I might be able to think a little more clearly if there were any blood going to my brain right now..." Leos managed to work out, a small trickle of blood beginning to flow from his nose.
Finally, his body was released and he caught himself before his body hit the floor, spitting out the blood collecting in his mouth. He felt his master place his hand on his head, whisper a word he couldn't hear, but knew to be 'Sacri'. Suddenly all the blood from his nose and mouth dried up, returning to his body and veins, the internal injuries that had spawned the flow healing as well.
"Your friends," Vaulrik explained, "Are coming for the woman."
"Fina..." Leos said, lifting himself up from the floor.
"What did you say?"
"Her name is Fina." Leos said, finally coming to his full height, and looking his master full in the eyes.
"It doesn't matter, your sister and 'Fina's' son will be there."
Leos' heart skipped a beat. He hadn't realized it, but yes, anywhere Ryne was going, his sister was sure to be. All he needed to do was to sit and wait for her and she would come to him. Then all he'd need to do is convince her to join him here...
"Come, my apprentice. We have much to prepare for."
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On the surface of Arcadia's Silver Moon there is an army. They are well trained, as are all on the face of this moon, though their resources are limited. Then there is another army, appearing with a flash of white light. It is larger than the first, though not by much. There is a distance of exactly one hundred meters between them, and for a while they face off, neither one moving. Then, in a call for readiness, thousands of floating creatures on both sides join with their partners, and thousands of blades spring forth from the arms of every being on the field with a communal hiss.
The last war has begun.
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"A door?" Wallin said incredulously, "All this beaming about and they still use doors?"
Ryne had to admit, it looked a little odd here when all they'd been exposed to were what they called "Void Travel" and the only place in which they'd stayed was pretty much open everywhere.
'The Door', as Wallin had so eloquently put it, was sunk into the ground and they'd had to climb down about a hundred feet just to find it. It about ten foot in height and twenty in length, and made of a metal that surprisingly looked and felt like iron. Vyse had rapped on it lightly, telling them that it was about a foot thick as well.
"This is part of the original penal colony that your ancestors set up for us." Celeste said, filling them in on some more history. "I was meant to keep up inside and out of trouble when the supply ships came."
"Well, it's doing a great job of keeping us out." Rafe said, kicking at the dirt. "It doesn't look like it's been used since they put it in."
"It hasn't... We sealed it from the inside to protect us from the monsters that seemed to find their way in through it."
"Great..." Jay said, her sarcastic nature finally kicking back in, "What are we supposed to do now? Knock?"
"More or less." Celeste said, smiling. "Ryne, give your sword to Jaycera."
Ryne shrugged and pulled the large, though lightweight, weapon from its back harness and passed it gently to Jay, who took the hilt with the blade pointing toward the ground. She fixed the Silvite woman with a questioning gaze.
"What am I supposed to do with this thing?"
"Get angry." She answered simply.
"What?"
"Get angry." She repeated. "This sword is made to react to your emotions. When you're angry, afraid, or any other danger sense is kicking in, this blade with be activated."
Jay remembered the night that Gideon had finally caught up with them and had tried to kill Ryne. In a last ditch effort to protect herself and the people she loved she'd pulled the weapon and slashed it at her adversary, the weapon seeming to come alive in her hands. She'd dismissed it as merely an illusion created by her fear and anger.
"So all I have to do is feel overly emotional?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, "Are you sure this thing can handle it?"
"We can only hope so..." Ryne muttered, earning him a death glare.
"Keep talking, Tiger, and you'll find yourself a kitten."
Vyse laughed, "I like your Jaycera a whole lot, Ryne."
Jaycera grinned, but remembered what it was that she was trying to do. She took a couple deep breaths, closed her eyes, and let every dark memory from her past come flooding into her. She saw her parents murdered before her eyes. She heard the anguish of two children rocking in a life raft, thinking their short time in life was already over. She smelled the scent of cooking human flesh from the jungles of Ixa'Taka. She tasted her own blood on her lips. She felt the smooth contours of the perfect sphere of blue moonstone that hung from her neck.
When she opened her eyes, she saw through tear soaked eyes that she was now holding a blade ablaze with energy. She smiled as Ryne wiped the tears from her face for her, her hands glued to the hilt.
"Well..." She said, sniffling a little, "Let's knock."
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In the bowls of the Silver moon there are two groups, destined for conflict. But their time has not come yet. Their fight for survival has not yet begun. Yet on the surface, it is quite another story.
The two armies have turned into one teeming mass of human and metamorph, the size of which was beginning to dwindle as both sides met with casualties. The first, the smaller army, fights with an unbridled passion they have been taught since birth to tame. It is now unleashed on the battlefield, their upbringing all but forgotten in the heat of the moment. It is this that gives them the slight edge. But it is still only slight.
The second army is gaining ground, if by nothing more than sheer numbers and cold efficiency. The first may fight with passion for their cause, but the second is a machine, its only purpose to destroy all opposition.
The moons already know. In this war there will be no real victor.
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Elder Philia watched the battle through a sensory hood which could show him the battle through the eyes of any one of his soldiers he chose. Right now it was one of his older commanders, recognizable as such by the slight golden hue of his armor. He had stopped in the middle of all the fighting to stoop down and take note of one of the fallen. The commander cradled his head in his lap as the dying living armor started to peel away from his face, showing the bleeding, gasping face of a youth no more than fifteen years of age. The commander reached a hand down to stroke the face of the boy whose life was slowly bleeding away from him. Philia noticed that the living armor that should have been encasing it had been peeled away.
Suddenly, without warning, his view was ripped away from this particular commander and shifted to another of his higher ranking officers. It took a moment to realize why this had happened. The commander had been killed, his dying son in his arms. He had left himself vulnerable to the enemy and had paid the ultimate price for it.
The sound of klaxons filled the air and at first Elder Philia didn't realize that this noise wasn't coming from the battle, but from Colony Eternum itself. He threw off the sensory hood and hit a button on the panel he was sitting at.
"What's going on?" He asked, fear rising within his belly, gripping it in a knot.
"Elder, they've found the Colony...!" a rushed, panicked voice answered, cutting off into static.
"How could that be? The only way in is through void travel..."
"It's quite simple really, Traitor." A new voice answered, one that gripped the knot in his stomach even tighter. "We followed your visitors, tracking their movements through the void. After that, all we needed to do was start digging."
Philia hung his head in shame. How could he have been so stupid?
"The only people here are either too young or too old to fight." He called back, trying to reason with them, "I don't care what you do with me, just spare the children..."
The only answer he got the screams of children.
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They made quick work of the door, the blazing sword cutting through it like a hot knife through butter. Ryne had to admit that the sight of Jaycera with a weapon like that scared him a little.
"Remind me never to tick you off again... and to hide that thing after this all over" He commented, as she finished her work with a swift kick, knocking the metal plug inside with a resounding thud. She gingerly placed the hilt in Ryne's hands, the blade returning to normal with his touch. She affectionately patted his cheek.
"Like that would save you." Jaycera quipped, grinning in the manner of a feral beast.
"Have I mentioned that I really like this girl of yours?" Vyse said for the umpteenth time, a sly grin on his face.
"Yeah Dad, I'm beginning to think that you like her more than me." Ryne answered, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "Now how about we crash this party?"
The rest of them all voiced their agreement, and they started their way down a long, dark corridor that looked and felt ancient. Celeste instructed Ryne to take off his right glove, and as he did so she tossed him a refined silver moon stone, casting a little light in the room that hadn't seen humanity since the golden age of Arcadia. The walls were gray and plain, bearing the mark of function over form. It looked in every way to be a prison.
"Wow..." Vyse said whistling low, "I haven't seen a place this gloomy since the old Valuan Grand Fortress we busted out of... twice."
Ryne had never had a chance to have known Valua as it was under the rule of Empress Tedora, but this was about the way he'd imagined it would have been... all gray and lonely, with little hope shining through. Valua had come a long way under the rule of Enrique.
Celeste seemed to know her way around, and when asked about it she merely shrugged and told them that she grew up here and had explored this older portion of the colony extensively with her playmates. Few people ever came in it anymore however. It had been abandoned long ago to shunt off their past of being prisoners. Though that fact was still inescapable, as there was no where for them to go other than out into the wilderness that had been provided for their renewing oxygen supply. After a while they had felt more at home underground.
After a while of passing through hallways which all branched out into individual open, but cell like, rooms they came upon what looked to Ryne like a downward thrusting, roughly carved tunnel.
"This is where we began to build for our own." Celeste explained, leading through it with Ryne closely in tow. "From here on all we need to do is find the atrium, which should be as close to the center as possible."
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The fighting has gone on for more than two hours. Both sides begin to tire, though neither is willing to give up. The first army has been worn thin, their passion's edge beginning to dull. They now fight with the ferocity of desperate men, wanting only for survival... though they entered this area knowing full well that none of them would be returning. They would die martyrs, thought they do so with the serenity of men who know they've left their families to safety. None of them know of the fate that has befallen their home.
Even if the battle had not been hopeless to begin with, they would have been slaughtered either way. They have no home to return to. They will die martyrs.
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The room in which they found themselves was dark and slightly damp. The only light source seemed to be a strange glowing orb, though the light was somewhat obstructed by a shadowy figure from inside. Vyse shivered, and Ryne could almost taste the rage and raw anger that was outpouring from his father like a fountain.
"This is the place..." He said softly, "Where I was tortured in front of your mother."
Ryne couldn't help but to shiver as well, though he didn't know if it were from the cool damp, or the fact that his father's blood and pain had been shed here. Slowly he walked toward the machine that took up most of the space in the room, of which the glowing green orb seemed to be the center piece. It was raised about ten feet in the air, two claw-like pieces connecting at both ends of the orb, with tubes running inside of it and disappearing into the base of the structure. A small cat walk could be taken up to the orb's edge, and Ryne felt unexplainably draw to it like a moth to the flame.
"Go any closer, and I'll kill you." An unnervingly familiar voice said in a loud commanding voice. Ryne turned to see a man completely covered in living armor, A tall man with slicked back black hair standing behind him.
"Welcome, my friends, to the Sylvias complex." He said grandly with a feral snarl, "We've been expecting you for quite some time now..."
Both sides prepare for war. One side to defend their right to retake lands stripped away from them so many generations ago... the other to defend the ideals of the hero that gave his life for the cause of equality.
Which side is right? The moons do not care.
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Ryne was tense. It didn't matter that two of the people he loved most in the world were standing at his side. It didn't matter that they were on their way to rescue the third person. It didn't matter that he was decked out in so much armor he looked like something sub-human. He was still tense... and afraid.
"Yours is the most important job of all." Elder Philia had briefed them all earlier. "It is your job to sneak into the Sylvias complex and disarm the Zelos Fist weapon, while the rest of us will surprise them with a full frontal assault. Today, there is to be a Silvite Civil War. The last Silvite Civil War if I have anything to say about it."
To him it almost felt like there was an entire army behind him, ready to help free his mother, though he knew the fact that it was his mother had very little to do with it. They were on a mission to destroy the weapon that gave their brothers the edge, to take the power out of their hands and stop them before their forces had a chance to invade. Many people were going to die today... and all for an ideal.
It was beyond him how all these people could give up their lives for this one idea... that all people were equal and had the right to be free. It was a great thing to believe and defend, but to give up your life seemed to be a bit of a waste. Life was the most important thing to Ryne. The life of the people he loved.
Ryne ran his finger around the edge of the neck brace/armor that protected his neck and jaw-line and ran up about halfway up his head, leaving most of his wild white hair exposed. They'd tried to put a helmet on him, but he'd drawn the line there. He'd never been one to wear any armor in the first place. The fighting style his father had taught him all focused mainly on offence and dispatching your enemy quickly and efficiently. He was taught not to get his at all... and his father was an excellent teacher.
"You look a little uncomfortable, Tiger." Jay said, grinning at him from his right.
"Easy for you to say," Ryne said, looking her over, "Looks like they gave you mostly leathers."
"Well, what can I say? They couldn't stand to cover up my perfect figure."
And as he looked at her more, he began to wonder if maybe there was little truth to that statement. Her outfit was made more for flexibility and speed, rather than for full protection. It would give her a little protection from glancing blows and projectiles, but any close quarters conflict would be disastrous. Her edge was in her deadly aim with knives, a skill she'd first unveiled in the jungles of Ixa'Taka, taking down the beast that had attacked her brother, and given Ryne his scars with three well placed blades. She wore two bandoleers full of throwing knives she'd found in the armory.
The only weapon her wore was the Sword of Delasaris, as it had come to be known to him. The warriors who surrounded him all stared at it and whispered in hushed tones when they'd first seen the infamous weapon. It was strapped in a new back harness that had been specially made for it yesterday, the day they'd first discovered that it had come with him and had survived the ages in perfect condition. It was true that only Leos and Jaycera could use it to its full potential, but he'd grown fond of it and Jay had said she'd rather him carry it anyway. He felt somewhat insect- like with all the pieces of dull black armor covering his shoulders, torso, and even his legs and boots. They'd told him it had been made for optimum flexibility and stealth, while allowing maximum defense as well. He was pretty sure they'd lied about the flexibility part, but it was very quiet.
His father opted to go for his signature twin cutlasses, which fit his unique fighting style better than anything else. He was wearing less armor than Ryne which spoke volumes about his skill with his weapons of choice, and was wearing clothing that could only be described as "Silvite- like". It consisted of a white tunic with bronze trim which came down to his knees though was slit up to his waist, a thick cumber bun thing and a clasping belt, with pants, boots, and a chest-plate that covered his chest and abdomen. He looked every bit the hero that had saved the planet once.
The rest of the crew of the Last Hope were covered in just about everything that had been available. They had decided that there was no way they were going to be left out of the action... or rather Wallin decided for them. Ryne thought he was just edgy about being left with the strange, emotionless people they'd been staying with. It was like putting a clown in a group of morticians... you just don't do that to a clown.
"Well... when do we get this party started?" Wallin asked, rocking on the balls of his feet, and trying as best he could to clasp his hands behind his back, though his armor wouldn't allow it.
"We're being transported directly onto the battlefield, Sly, or weren't you listening when we were briefed?" Rafe asked, knowing the answer was 'no'.
"I tried, but you know how I get with droning voices going bla, bla, bla, bla, bla..." He replied droning on into nothingness. "You'd think they'd be even a little excited about rushing to their deaths, but nooooo, all we get are sullen, living statues..."
"Not all of us are so sullen." Celeste said, finally joining their group, topping the body count to nine people. Ever since she'd come back to this place she called home, all of the ice queen nature that had become so cliché for her had melted away... which was odd, because everyone else in the place acted exactly as she did when they'd first met her.
"Well, good to see that you've finally decided to join us." Rafe said, smiling slightly. "I thought you'd decided to fight with your people on the open battlefield."
"I was trained to be a spy, not a warrior. I decided my skills and knowledge of where you are going to be would be better appreciated here." She said simply, "Besides, I lack a weapon."
"Why don't you have one of those weird, floating, blobby thingies?" Wallin asked innocently, noticing the countless number of creatures bobbing about the room like huge flying tadpoles.
Celeste smiled sadly. "I did once..."
"Umm... Sorry if I brought up a touchy subject..." Wallin said, turning red from embarrassment for the first time Ryne had ever seen.
"You didn't," she said, pausing for a moment, "It's just that Tylen was the only friend I had before he died and I met all of you..."
"I know what you're talking about." Vyse said unexpectedly, "My wife once told me that her metamorph, Cupil, was her only friend after Ramirez left to find the moon crystals."
"The same Ramirez who brought the Rains of Destruction on Valua was a friend of your wife?" Celeste said, blinking her eyes in a surprised expression.
"That's a new one on me..." Rafe said, whistling.
"He wasn't the same person then." Vyse explained, "When he actually got to Arcadia he came into contact with a corrupt Valuan admiral named, Mendosa... well... long story short, he saw all the bad that was in mankind, rather than the good things. His thinking was tainted by his bad experiences, then Galcien came into the picture and somehow won his loyalty..."
"And he ended up killing thousands of people, my family included." Jerem interjected.
"Yes, he did." Vyse said, fixing the man who was around the same age as him a steely glare. "And he paid for his sins with his sanity and his life."
Wallin clapped his hands, fending off the tensions that were building. "Well, what does it matter anymore? It's ancient history! Let's go make some history of our own, shall we?"
"I couldn't agree with you more, Wallin." Vyse said, adjusting the belt around his waist that held his twin cutlasses into place, "I always did like the 'making history' part better than the 'studying history'"
Ryne was about to ask how much longer it was going to be before they were going to get shot out to wherever it was that they were going to shoot them, when the whole huge circular room resounded with a humming sound, the walls taking on a luminescence of their own.
Again he found himself in a great ocean of blue, though the thousands of soldiers he's expected to be here as well were unnervingly missing. He supposed it wasn't all that surprising when he thought about it. The only people here with him were those who were going to the same place he was.
"Good luck, Team Last Hope." Were the last words he heard from a disembodied voice as his body came apart at the seams, shooting through space to be rebuilt elsewhere.
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"Ready all troops for war." Vaulrik said to his second in command, a white haired young man with ice blue eyes.
"What's going on, Sir?" Denison asked, his eyes wide with wonder.
"The rebels are on their way here right now, traveling through the void." He answered briskly, his long stride working its way toward the atrium, Denison and Leos trying to keep up on both sides.
"But sir, how could that be? The rebels have only used hit and run tactics, why would they attack in full power now?"
"Their cause is getting desperate. Their aim is to stop us from taking Arcadia back, and we ship off this rock tomorrow, do we not?"
"Yes sir, I shall inform the soldiers, sir." The second in command said, leaving Vaulrik's side and hurrying to the warrior's barracks.
"Master, if I may ask, where are we going?" Leos asked, looking noticeably antsy.
"You know full well where we are going, don't play the fool with me, Boy."
"Yes, but... why?"
Leos' body slammed against a grey, curved wall, joints cracking as he hit.
"If you cannot use the instrument the gods gave you, what good are you to me?" Vaulrik spat, his hand raised in an odd looking clutch. "Think boy, THINK!"
"I might be able to think a little more clearly if there were any blood going to my brain right now..." Leos managed to work out, a small trickle of blood beginning to flow from his nose.
Finally, his body was released and he caught himself before his body hit the floor, spitting out the blood collecting in his mouth. He felt his master place his hand on his head, whisper a word he couldn't hear, but knew to be 'Sacri'. Suddenly all the blood from his nose and mouth dried up, returning to his body and veins, the internal injuries that had spawned the flow healing as well.
"Your friends," Vaulrik explained, "Are coming for the woman."
"Fina..." Leos said, lifting himself up from the floor.
"What did you say?"
"Her name is Fina." Leos said, finally coming to his full height, and looking his master full in the eyes.
"It doesn't matter, your sister and 'Fina's' son will be there."
Leos' heart skipped a beat. He hadn't realized it, but yes, anywhere Ryne was going, his sister was sure to be. All he needed to do was to sit and wait for her and she would come to him. Then all he'd need to do is convince her to join him here...
"Come, my apprentice. We have much to prepare for."
*****************************************
On the surface of Arcadia's Silver Moon there is an army. They are well trained, as are all on the face of this moon, though their resources are limited. Then there is another army, appearing with a flash of white light. It is larger than the first, though not by much. There is a distance of exactly one hundred meters between them, and for a while they face off, neither one moving. Then, in a call for readiness, thousands of floating creatures on both sides join with their partners, and thousands of blades spring forth from the arms of every being on the field with a communal hiss.
The last war has begun.
********************************************
"A door?" Wallin said incredulously, "All this beaming about and they still use doors?"
Ryne had to admit, it looked a little odd here when all they'd been exposed to were what they called "Void Travel" and the only place in which they'd stayed was pretty much open everywhere.
'The Door', as Wallin had so eloquently put it, was sunk into the ground and they'd had to climb down about a hundred feet just to find it. It about ten foot in height and twenty in length, and made of a metal that surprisingly looked and felt like iron. Vyse had rapped on it lightly, telling them that it was about a foot thick as well.
"This is part of the original penal colony that your ancestors set up for us." Celeste said, filling them in on some more history. "I was meant to keep up inside and out of trouble when the supply ships came."
"Well, it's doing a great job of keeping us out." Rafe said, kicking at the dirt. "It doesn't look like it's been used since they put it in."
"It hasn't... We sealed it from the inside to protect us from the monsters that seemed to find their way in through it."
"Great..." Jay said, her sarcastic nature finally kicking back in, "What are we supposed to do now? Knock?"
"More or less." Celeste said, smiling. "Ryne, give your sword to Jaycera."
Ryne shrugged and pulled the large, though lightweight, weapon from its back harness and passed it gently to Jay, who took the hilt with the blade pointing toward the ground. She fixed the Silvite woman with a questioning gaze.
"What am I supposed to do with this thing?"
"Get angry." She answered simply.
"What?"
"Get angry." She repeated. "This sword is made to react to your emotions. When you're angry, afraid, or any other danger sense is kicking in, this blade with be activated."
Jay remembered the night that Gideon had finally caught up with them and had tried to kill Ryne. In a last ditch effort to protect herself and the people she loved she'd pulled the weapon and slashed it at her adversary, the weapon seeming to come alive in her hands. She'd dismissed it as merely an illusion created by her fear and anger.
"So all I have to do is feel overly emotional?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, "Are you sure this thing can handle it?"
"We can only hope so..." Ryne muttered, earning him a death glare.
"Keep talking, Tiger, and you'll find yourself a kitten."
Vyse laughed, "I like your Jaycera a whole lot, Ryne."
Jaycera grinned, but remembered what it was that she was trying to do. She took a couple deep breaths, closed her eyes, and let every dark memory from her past come flooding into her. She saw her parents murdered before her eyes. She heard the anguish of two children rocking in a life raft, thinking their short time in life was already over. She smelled the scent of cooking human flesh from the jungles of Ixa'Taka. She tasted her own blood on her lips. She felt the smooth contours of the perfect sphere of blue moonstone that hung from her neck.
When she opened her eyes, she saw through tear soaked eyes that she was now holding a blade ablaze with energy. She smiled as Ryne wiped the tears from her face for her, her hands glued to the hilt.
"Well..." She said, sniffling a little, "Let's knock."
*******************************************
In the bowls of the Silver moon there are two groups, destined for conflict. But their time has not come yet. Their fight for survival has not yet begun. Yet on the surface, it is quite another story.
The two armies have turned into one teeming mass of human and metamorph, the size of which was beginning to dwindle as both sides met with casualties. The first, the smaller army, fights with an unbridled passion they have been taught since birth to tame. It is now unleashed on the battlefield, their upbringing all but forgotten in the heat of the moment. It is this that gives them the slight edge. But it is still only slight.
The second army is gaining ground, if by nothing more than sheer numbers and cold efficiency. The first may fight with passion for their cause, but the second is a machine, its only purpose to destroy all opposition.
The moons already know. In this war there will be no real victor.
*******************************
Elder Philia watched the battle through a sensory hood which could show him the battle through the eyes of any one of his soldiers he chose. Right now it was one of his older commanders, recognizable as such by the slight golden hue of his armor. He had stopped in the middle of all the fighting to stoop down and take note of one of the fallen. The commander cradled his head in his lap as the dying living armor started to peel away from his face, showing the bleeding, gasping face of a youth no more than fifteen years of age. The commander reached a hand down to stroke the face of the boy whose life was slowly bleeding away from him. Philia noticed that the living armor that should have been encasing it had been peeled away.
Suddenly, without warning, his view was ripped away from this particular commander and shifted to another of his higher ranking officers. It took a moment to realize why this had happened. The commander had been killed, his dying son in his arms. He had left himself vulnerable to the enemy and had paid the ultimate price for it.
The sound of klaxons filled the air and at first Elder Philia didn't realize that this noise wasn't coming from the battle, but from Colony Eternum itself. He threw off the sensory hood and hit a button on the panel he was sitting at.
"What's going on?" He asked, fear rising within his belly, gripping it in a knot.
"Elder, they've found the Colony...!" a rushed, panicked voice answered, cutting off into static.
"How could that be? The only way in is through void travel..."
"It's quite simple really, Traitor." A new voice answered, one that gripped the knot in his stomach even tighter. "We followed your visitors, tracking their movements through the void. After that, all we needed to do was start digging."
Philia hung his head in shame. How could he have been so stupid?
"The only people here are either too young or too old to fight." He called back, trying to reason with them, "I don't care what you do with me, just spare the children..."
The only answer he got the screams of children.
********************************************
They made quick work of the door, the blazing sword cutting through it like a hot knife through butter. Ryne had to admit that the sight of Jaycera with a weapon like that scared him a little.
"Remind me never to tick you off again... and to hide that thing after this all over" He commented, as she finished her work with a swift kick, knocking the metal plug inside with a resounding thud. She gingerly placed the hilt in Ryne's hands, the blade returning to normal with his touch. She affectionately patted his cheek.
"Like that would save you." Jaycera quipped, grinning in the manner of a feral beast.
"Have I mentioned that I really like this girl of yours?" Vyse said for the umpteenth time, a sly grin on his face.
"Yeah Dad, I'm beginning to think that you like her more than me." Ryne answered, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "Now how about we crash this party?"
The rest of them all voiced their agreement, and they started their way down a long, dark corridor that looked and felt ancient. Celeste instructed Ryne to take off his right glove, and as he did so she tossed him a refined silver moon stone, casting a little light in the room that hadn't seen humanity since the golden age of Arcadia. The walls were gray and plain, bearing the mark of function over form. It looked in every way to be a prison.
"Wow..." Vyse said whistling low, "I haven't seen a place this gloomy since the old Valuan Grand Fortress we busted out of... twice."
Ryne had never had a chance to have known Valua as it was under the rule of Empress Tedora, but this was about the way he'd imagined it would have been... all gray and lonely, with little hope shining through. Valua had come a long way under the rule of Enrique.
Celeste seemed to know her way around, and when asked about it she merely shrugged and told them that she grew up here and had explored this older portion of the colony extensively with her playmates. Few people ever came in it anymore however. It had been abandoned long ago to shunt off their past of being prisoners. Though that fact was still inescapable, as there was no where for them to go other than out into the wilderness that had been provided for their renewing oxygen supply. After a while they had felt more at home underground.
After a while of passing through hallways which all branched out into individual open, but cell like, rooms they came upon what looked to Ryne like a downward thrusting, roughly carved tunnel.
"This is where we began to build for our own." Celeste explained, leading through it with Ryne closely in tow. "From here on all we need to do is find the atrium, which should be as close to the center as possible."
*********************************
The fighting has gone on for more than two hours. Both sides begin to tire, though neither is willing to give up. The first army has been worn thin, their passion's edge beginning to dull. They now fight with the ferocity of desperate men, wanting only for survival... though they entered this area knowing full well that none of them would be returning. They would die martyrs, thought they do so with the serenity of men who know they've left their families to safety. None of them know of the fate that has befallen their home.
Even if the battle had not been hopeless to begin with, they would have been slaughtered either way. They have no home to return to. They will die martyrs.
***************************************
The room in which they found themselves was dark and slightly damp. The only light source seemed to be a strange glowing orb, though the light was somewhat obstructed by a shadowy figure from inside. Vyse shivered, and Ryne could almost taste the rage and raw anger that was outpouring from his father like a fountain.
"This is the place..." He said softly, "Where I was tortured in front of your mother."
Ryne couldn't help but to shiver as well, though he didn't know if it were from the cool damp, or the fact that his father's blood and pain had been shed here. Slowly he walked toward the machine that took up most of the space in the room, of which the glowing green orb seemed to be the center piece. It was raised about ten feet in the air, two claw-like pieces connecting at both ends of the orb, with tubes running inside of it and disappearing into the base of the structure. A small cat walk could be taken up to the orb's edge, and Ryne felt unexplainably draw to it like a moth to the flame.
"Go any closer, and I'll kill you." An unnervingly familiar voice said in a loud commanding voice. Ryne turned to see a man completely covered in living armor, A tall man with slicked back black hair standing behind him.
"Welcome, my friends, to the Sylvias complex." He said grandly with a feral snarl, "We've been expecting you for quite some time now..."