CH 3
MYTH AND LEGEND
''Unbelievable.''
The voice was harsh, slithering, and weighed with quiet malice. The pirate lackey knelt before his leader, a leader whose feathered cloak that easily expanded her slim figure into something immensely intimidating. The captain's shadow engulfed the quaking underling as though cast by dark wings.
Other pirates stood around them, scarred, garb tattered, mismatched and stained. Tensely watching, not daring to speak, filled with a combination of respect and fear.
Nakari Bloodbane's bone white hide eerily glowed under their ship's golden overhead lights. Her long, towering ears shadowed narrow, glaring yellow eyes, sharp, crowlike facial features framed by flowing dark hair. In one hand, she bounced a small statue, golden filigree gleaming.
Then the Fracastain shaman dropped her hand, dangling the object from one finger. Tone dripping with venom, the captain took a step closer.
''We received very specific instructions on what to look for. Now, I will be forced to order the Tainan out of hiding.''
Quick as blinking, a foot bearing a sharp, cloven hoof flashed from beneath the cloak. The pirate yowled, reeling back and clutching the bloody patch that had been his snout.
Nakari remained cold and stonelike, eyes blank of anything other that a thin layer of disgust.
''This,'' she bit out, ''Was supposed to be a hit and run. It was not to be necessary to return to the site of our heist.''
The pirate nodded, hunching over, clearly trying to look as small as possible.
''Yes,'' he rasped past his ruined snout. ''I have failed. I understand-''
''Enough groveling.'' Nakari hissed long and low, turning her back on him. Two other pirates stepped forward, hauling him up, starting to drag the man off the bridge. ''Luckily for you, I am not in a recruiting mood.''
A door closed with a echoing clang. Nakari slowly rotated, her chilly gaze sweeping over her remaining troops.
It rose to fix on one in particular, a tall, slim Skyberian, face bearing bold facial marks in contrast to her own pencil-thin ones.
Her helmsman's lips parted in the slightest smile.
''Now. It is time to return and secure our ticket to incredible wealth.''
The crowd murmured, voices gradually rising in greedy hope. The noise filled the bridge, a echoing space with a low ceiling, filled with rows of screens and on the level above, gun stations. Dim light filtered through towering, wraparound bridge windows, the watery illumination rippling across the pirate's hollow faces.
''And if anyone else has found the wreck...well.'' Her jaws split in a wicked grin. ''We will leave no witnesses.''
Nakari's eyes flicked to her pilot again, giving her love a unspoken message that when they reaped their new spoils, the night that followed would be one of immense celebration...
/=\\\\
At the same time as Fearon's flight from the bridge and the pirate meeting, Lyvaak and Somra were rummaging in the depths of the freighter's hangar.
They were surrounded by fallen cords, shattered glass from the overhead lights crunching under their feet. Battered metal crates towered around them, some toppled onto their sides. Lyvaak had been systematically kneeling by each of the fallen crates, sifting through them.
At this point, despite what Fearon may have wished, both he and Somra had dismounted their chimeras. The Afraisian had been searching the crates too, albeit with far less enthusiasm than Lyvaak; pausing only occasionally when stumbling across something shiny.
Not that this was unexpected to him. After all, Somra was not much of a appreciator of history; and as such was not nearly as taken by the contents of the crates as him.
It seemed that the archaeological markings on the freighter had been far from a lie.
Lyvaak had already come across a number of statues, most bearing copious use of solid gold-a stark contrast to the usual Aepoikian sensibilities that favored silver. The Aurian had also come across several tapestries, unmarred by some miracle save for a few holes, and quite a number of vases just as extravagant as the statues. He had begun sorting some of the objects, attempting to figure out how to transport them off the disintegrating freighter.
Much of it he had been able to magnetize onto his ride, but Lyvaak was ware he was pushing the limits now on how much the chimera could carry.
It was abundantly clear to him, even with his limited knowledge, that the Afraisian ship was too badly damaged to tow-even if the Strikeflier had been large enough for the task.
Yet Lyvaak felt a deep ache at the thought of leaving any of these precious objects behind.
As to deducing the origin of the artifacts, that was easy to do with a mere glance.
Most of the relics were stamped, perhaps to a gaudy point, with the Axalonian crest. Even without that, the sheer amount of gold on display was a dead giveaway.
And Lyvaak found it infinitely fascinating; he was receiving a free window into the past.
''Oohh...'' he gingerly lifted a vase from a spilled crate-amazingly it had not broken, remaining nestled in cushioning paper. ''This is unbelievable! I've never heard of such a big haul of artifacts. Truly impressive...''
Somra looked over her shoulder at him. The Afraisian stood up with a displeased huff, staring down at the crate she had been searching.
''Far as I'm concerned, how impressive they are depends on how much money they can net us,'' she drawled with a shrug.
Lyvaak titled his head with a frown, turning the vase at different angles. He paced a dramatic, slow circle, placing a exaggerated hand to his brow. ''Good gods, madame! You bear witness to a perfect preservation of times past...and all you care for is the bloomin' money?'' Lyvaak sighed hard, spreading his arms wide. ''And here I thought Afraisians were knowledge seekers!''
Somra rolled her red eyes with a snarl. ''Yes, well, not every single one of us,'' she snapped hotly.
Neither of them noticed that the comm light on Lyvaak's chimera was blinking.
Kneeling once more, Lyvaak shook his head melodramatically and felt into the reaches of the crate. ''M'lady, you are missing out-''
He paused, the tips of his claws catching on something that vaguely rustled. Lyvaak forced his arm further in, fully gripping what felt like a thin sheath of paper.
With a grunt he pulled it out, flipping through the ream of parchment. He was met with Afraisian text.
Hardly unexpected, but this presented him with a language barrier.
While Lyvaak had learned half of Aepok's dialects by now with rigorous effort, he had just begun on Afraisian, and the written yet aluded him.
As such, Lyvaak turned to where Somra was now leaning on a crate, yawning. Widening his eyes, Lyvaak fixed her with a pleading stare.
''Sommmraa...''
The golden hued Afraisian looked at him with a raised eyeridge.
''I don't suppose you could read this for me, ma'am?''
''I thought you were the master of bilingualism?'' she snorted.
''I just started on learnin' Afraisian,'' Lyvaak placed a hand on his chest. ''Come on, help a fella out?''
Somra stared at him unblinkingly for a moment. ''Fine, fine,'' she sighed, leaning forward and holding out a hand. ''I'll take pity on you. Hand it over.''
Beaming, Lyvaak obliged. Somra fixed her jaw and flipped the makeshift booklet open to the front page.
''Excavation ledger-''
''Hah!'' Lyvaak clapped his hands together. ''I thought that might be-''
''Shut up and let me keep going!'' Somra grumbled. Lyvaak shrugged apologetically.
''Item one,'' she continued, ''We found via picking up heavy energy readings. We proceeded with caution, given such readings have in the past led to-'' here Somra's eyes narrowed, a growl in her throat. ''Objects tainted with Feal magic.''
Lyvaak shuddered, equally disturbed by the thought of the foul power that fueled demons. Indeed, he could think of many occasions throughout Aepok's long history when such objects had been found.
While hardly a common event, such discoveries ultimately always resulted in tragedy-many dead, the takers of the Feal power often becoming demons themselves, becoming part of the ever regenerating horde.
His fears were alleviated by Somra's continued reading.
''fortunately, we found, instead of a Feal infected object, a Renim construct-one of the companion class, small, and clearly very ancient, according to its markings. Still, it continued to emit powerful energy, well beyond what it should have been capable of. We attempted to delicately drill through the construct's alabaster. We saw a glint of light within, leading me to speculate that the construct may be carrying within it an object of myth and legend, some claiming it to be a mere story, some arguing for its existence. The Therium-''
A few things happened at once.
Lyvaak gasped upon hearing the word Somra had spoken, then they both whirled as a sudden crash sounded. A flash of movement drew their gaze, landing on a alabaster white shape that had frozen upon a tumbled tower of gold urns as if hoping not to be seen.
The thing seemed to be the very construct Somra had just read about, Lyvaak marking both the living statue's antique look; and the beam of strong light flowing through a crack in its chest. Carved to look like a four legged Elesian owl, the construct's stone wings gave the slightest twitch before it burst into flight again.
The movement snapped Lyvaak after his daze, and his veins flooded with a surge of excitement.
Yet it was Somra who made the first move, charging for her chimera. ''Oh no you don't!''
Lyvaak ran to his own ride, leaping aboard and firing it up even as Somra pounded past him on her wildcat chimera. Gunning his chimera, Lyvaak took off after her, feeling just as much of a thrill.
And they both had reason to be.
The Therium shards were one of the world's oldest legends; myth claiming that during the creation of the universe by the mother of the gods, the goddess had come into conflict with the consuming darkness that had previously held thrall. Amid the battle, solidified god blood had fallen to the planet's surface. Potentially discovered by a rare few in eons past, Lyvaak had heard it speculated that a shard had been used to save the nation of Renim from Axalon's horrid fate.
Confirming the existence of a Therium shard would mean fame akin to what Lyvaak had always dreamed of-similar to when he won a chimera league race, but on a absolutely salivating scale.
The two of them tore through the hallway, strips of light gleaming off the construct's alabaster hide, the construct managing to stay ahead of them via weaving through the ceiling, occasionally dipping into the freighter's groaning rigging. Several times they nearly lost it, despite entering into a frantic dance of hairpin turns and dodging rubble.
''There!'' Somra howled. Throwing her chimera into a drift, she took off down a hallway to the left, the mech's claws throwing up a brief shower of sparks. Following Somra's gaze, Lyvaak caught the flutter of a stone wing.
Lyvaak followed Somra, directing his ride to leap, rebounding off a nearby wall rather than drifting. He poured on a little more speed; sorma's chimera was lighter, built lithe.
His being bipedal and a little heavier, Lyvaak was keeping up, but in the confines of a hallway, had no terrain or environmental factors to draw on as he would have on a racetrack.
Catching a glimpse of blinking red from the corner of his eye, Lyvaak finally noticed the comm button, coming to a slightly sheepish realization that either Fearon or Byre had been attempting to call for...
Well, a while, most likely.
Keeping his gaze on Somra and staying alert for the construct, Lyvaak pressed the comm button.
/v\\\
Fearon's heart was in his throat as his dragon chimera charged down the hallway, mind going over the glimpse of motion he had had seen. Constantly debating whether or not her had imagined it.
You know who did this...
He was sure of it. Yet as hard as he tried, as much as he went over the tactics on display, written as though in words by the carnage inflicted on the freighter-
Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him.
With a uttered curse he hammered on the comm button again, mentally begging for Lyvaak or Somra to just pick up.
Preferably now, when they all still had life in them.
It was almost bliss when the comm pinged as answered and Lyvaak's voice came through.
''Ah! Fearon! I swear, mate, we didn't mean to ignore you for so long-''
''Irrelevant!'' Fearon yelped. ''I know who did this. We have to get out of here!''
Somra's voice crackled through next. ''No freaking way, spiderlegs. We're on the trial of something world-changing!''
Fearon's eye ridges contracted. ''What are you-''
''We might be on the trail of a Therium shard!''
Eyes widening, Fearon abruptly yanked on the controls of his chimera, the dragon mech coming to a abrupt halt, metal claws sparking on the floor.
''A what?'' his voice almost came out as a screech. ''Those are a myth-''
''I can feel the power coming off this thing!'' Lyvaak interjected, his tone giddy. ''Whatever it is, its inside a Renim construct. Little bugger's fast-''
''We gotta catch it, Fearon!'' Somra again.
Fearon grit his teeth. ''Maybe instead of worrying about some myth, you should listen to me FOR ONCE-''
''No one's here now!'' Somra shot back impatiently over the comm. ''And if opposition does show up, let it! I can use a fight!''
/v\\\
Byre let out a low, annoyed grunt as his companions argued over the com link, though it was a certainty that none of them heard it.
This drivel was making his ears hurt.
Briefly, he felt a urge to pull out some drink and seek the comforting numbness.
Then a flicker of movement registered in the silvery sight he shared with the ship, accompanied by a sudden feeling of intense danger.
Instantaneously he decided to fire the thrusters, keeling the Strikeflier harshly backward.
A decision that certainly turned out to be for the best.
From within the clouds a huge shape thundered upward, metal teeth glinting; the Strikeflier was buffered backward, flipping over backward before Byre could wrestle her back under control.
The new ship surged fully into view, trailing vapor, dwarfing the Avalonian strike ship in its shadow.
And the second Byre beheld the ship in his entirety, he had only one thought.
We're in deep shit now.