To those who are reading this right now, you must realize that Rigentum is officially one year old. I finished this about a month ago but I waited until today to upload it. Think what you may, but I am proud of this achievement. This chapter is really where the real science fiction of this story comes out. I have waited so long to start it! And with nothing else to say, I happily present to you…

Chapter 15 Curiosity

A young man walked through a lavish hallway with a humble yet cheerful smile. He wore a black shirt with long sleeves and a silver pattern that covered most of the chest along with matching pants. To the oblivious, he looked to be no older than sixteen years of age. But thanks to one of the successful genetic experiments done millions of years ago, every single person in the city where this young man lived was granted the gift of a very prolonged life. If a person was lucky, they would live to see well over five thousand years. Yet this young man was just a few decades over one thousand. The young man's father had called on one of his servants to complete a task, but decided that he would take the burden on himself when he had thought of a way that he could make it entertaining, or at least to him.

As the young man walked past a window, he caught a glimpse of the buzzing metropolis outside. Its oddly shaped buildings were in clear view under the thick dome that completely covered every inch of the city, almost five hundred square miles. The name of this city still held the morality when the young man's ancestors christened it eons ago. Only, none of its citizens had felt that this place should be called by that name for quite some time. Ever since fourteen members of the fifteen-member council had given the ultimate sacrifice so that whoever called the city of Rumah home could not only live peaceful lives, but live period. The red sand that Rumah now rests on was cold, desolate, and unforgiving; not the original foundation on which the city was founded on. Ergo, this was not their home. The young man turned a corner as he neared his destination, two large doors that when opened revealed an even larger bedroom. He easily pushed open the doors and stepped inside the unlit bedroom. He turned his head to a large bed that held the sleeping body of an eight year old boy who was in fact just seventy-six years shy of five hundred. The young man walked over to a window that had its curtains drawn shut and ripped them open to stream light into the room and to make the boy squirm under his blankets.

"Come on, it's time to get out of bed." The young man said, making his way to the side of the comforter. He smiled as the boy began to rise, but that quickly changed when the boy grabbed one of the pillows near his head and hurled it at the young man. He easily dodged the pillow as he watched it fall to the floor. He turned back to the boy who had already covered his face with the sheets, with an irritated look on his face. "Alright, but just remember that you made me do this Soturi." The young man walked into the adjoining bathroom and made sure that Soturi didn't hear what he was doing. He came back out five minutes later holding a handle in one hand and the bottom of the bucket filled almost to the brink with water in the other. Once he returned to the side of the bed, the young man wasted no time emptying the bucket onto Soturi. He immediately shot up and glared evilly at the person responsible.

"Veli, why did you do that!?"

"Apparently brother, you didn't hear me say, you made me do this." Veli said, the humble yet cheerful smile returning to his face. "Come, our father wishes to see us.

Veli hadn't given his brother a chance to dry off, or even to change out of his soaked sleeping clothes. And now the siblings walked side by side up the hallway Veli had just walked down, only this time they were en route to the throne room. "You know you didn't have to do that." Soturi said, not taking his eyes away from the straight line in front of him.

"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to." Veli smiled again as he looked at his brother expecting a smile, but received the exact opposite. Soturi had always looked up to Veli, like most little brothers do. So he should have known that Veli was just joking. Veli realized that Soturi was upset with him, and decided what he needed to do to bring a warm smile to that wet face. "Hey Soturi, wanna have race?" If the two of them had ever had any kind of dispute, they would always settle it with some kind of competition. It worked so well to patch things up between them, mainly because they were so competitive. Soturi looked up at Veli with eyes that said, 'On what terms?' "First one to reach the throne room wins, agreed?"

"Agreed."

The two brothers backed up enough to where their race would lead them down the hallway in front of them, which was about seventy-five feet. Then they would turn a corner and proceed down the remaining twenty-five feet to the throne room. Soturi and Veli crouched down in their running positions and spoke in unison "Ready… Set… GO!"

Soturi took off, while Veli was still crouched in his ready position. He was giving his little brother a fifteen second head start, and after Veli had counted to fifteen in his head, he took off after Soturi. By the time Soturi had reached the corner, Veli had already passed him. As the large doors of the throne room came into view, Veli had slowed his pace from a run to a fast walk. When he came to the doors, he stopped just inches from them. Veli positioned his hands to where they were almost through the entryway, as he turned his head to watch Soturi run closer to him. However, Soturi was closer than Veli had thought. Soturi was close enough that he had jumped off of the ground and hurled himself onto his brother's back. The sudden action caused Veli to fall with Soturi, both of them rolling onto the throne room's shiny floor. When they stopped rolling, Veli was lying on his stomach, slightly confused, while Soturi was sitting on his back. A smug expression held up above the boy's crossed arms as he said "I win." It took a few second for Veli to understand what had just happened, and when he did, he started to laugh. "Okay Soturi, you win."

"Are you two quite done?" The two brothers turned their heads up and around to the familiar voice behind them and saw their father Jalo, the King of Rumah. He was a well built man, despite the grey that had crept onto the dirty-blonde hairs of his head and beard. The golden crown atop his head was a beautiful display of detail and vision. The garments he wore were fit for well, royalty. The valta on his left hand that bared a sapphire gem was concealed by a long sleeve. It was the same valta that Jalo's father had worn while he was king, and his father as well; the list goes all the way back to King Varoitus. The same gauntlet was passed down to the next generation, because the only way that a new king could get a new valta was to some how find the King's Labyrinth on the next planet over. Something that is impossible. The two brothers piled off of each other to stand and face their father. Soturi was the first to stand up, and he came up from the ground by about four and a half feet, yet he only came up just above his father's waist. Then it was Veli's turn to stand, he still had some more growing to do but he came up to Jalo's chin, a little over six feet tall. The average fully grown Ruman, would stand at around six to seven and a half feet tall. Jalo fit that description well at seven feet and five inches.

"Yes, we're done." Veli said.

"Good, because I have something very important to tell the both of you, as well to the entire city."

"Like what?" Soturi said, wiping off some of the water that was rolling down his forehead.

"It's a surprise that will wait until…" Jalo's voice had trailed off when he had noticed Soturi's soaked clothes and hair. He turned to his first born son for an answer. "Why is your brother wet?"

"You told me to wake him up, and I did." Jalo smiled and shook his head at his sons' mischievousness. "Well, after today's tournament, everyone will know of your surprise." With that said, Soturi started to walk off. He would have continued on if his father hadn't asked him where he was going.

"I'm going to go dry off."

"Okay then, you do remember the way to the royal box, don't you?"

"Yes." Soturi said, lying through his teeth.

Almost thirty minutes later, Soturi had dried off and changed into some dry clothes; a light blue jacket with green cuffs and reddish brown pants and now he was walking at a brisk pace through one of the maze-like hallways of Ramah's coliseum. This coliseum was large enough to hold almost the entire population of the city and in an extremely rare circumstances, the coliseum was used as a courtroom. He had tried to find his way to the royal box on his own but had easily gotten lost. Soturi's pace gained speed when he head the muffled voice of the tournament's announcer start the opening ceremony. "Welcome one and all to Otella tournament." Soturi had witnessed every opening ceremony, as well as every tournament, ever since he could remember and he didn't want today to be the first time missing out. So the prince knew that he had at least five minutes until the actual tournament started. The problem was, Soturi still had no idea where he was. And as Soturi rushed through the halls, the announcer's voice was drowned by a much closer and louder voice, screaming at another person.

"You are officially out of second chances, Trenac!" Soturi had slowed as he heard the one sided argument down a hall he had not yet passed. He was curious as to why one person was so angry at the other. Soturi turned the corner and walked cautiously against the wall that led to an open door as he continued to listen to the argument. "We're probably going to be forced to forfeit, all because of your idiot friend!"

"Come on guy, he could just be running late." A second voice said sheepishly.

"Late! That jerk hasn't shown for a single practice. Yet for some strange reason, you keep putting him up on a pedestal."

"But…"

"No more buts, no more excuses! After today, the entire team wants yours and you friend's locker cleaned out!" Soturi was now pressed up against wall, just an inch from the open door. Hanging on to every word. "They might let us compete with just seven people but I doubt it." The first voice said, sounding a little calmer. That same voice let out a sigh before saying. "Just suit up Trenac, so we can get this over with."

Soturi waited until the sounds of footsteps had faded until he had entered the room. What he saw next was nothing like he'd expected. The room held eight large orbs. The orbs were twelve and a half feet in diameter and would have been almost completely intangible if not for the blue vapor that transformed every person inside of the orbs into a hazy silhouette. Soturi walked past every orb, trying to make out the faces inside. But when he came to the eighth orb, he saw that there was nothing inside of it, no person or fog. Just an opening where the person could enter. Soturi held the option to enter the orb strongly in one hand, while the other hand barely held onto anything. He eagerly stepped inside the orb, the opening closing behind him. Soturi's curiosity had almost always gotten him into trouble. Like when he had climbed to the highest point of the palace roof, just because he could, and then it had taken him over three hours to climb back down. But what Soturi had just done was completely different. This was literally hijacking an Otella player's spot in the tournament.

The same blue vapor that filled the other orbs filled Soturi's within a matter of seconds. Some of the vapor crept into his lungs and eyes and gave him a slight burning sensation. Soturi rubbed his eyes as he began to cough. As the burning sensation disappeared, he lowered his hands from his eyes and saw that he was standing in octagonal room that had no ceiling with seven ten-foot androids that were painted a dark blue and that were staring at him, if red visors counted as eyes. Soturi looked down at his own hands and saw that they were exactly the same as the other seven androids. These machines were the equipment the players use in the Otella tournament and a technological masterpiece by modern human standards, but for the people of Rumah it is nothing more than a fancy toy. The blue fog that filled all of the orbs back in the staging area was, to put it lightly, the combination of a M.R.I. scanner and a video game controller. It monitored the electricity that coerced through the brain and nervous system, and whatever action the person in the orb did such as run, jump, hit, or even talk, so did the machine. The androids themselves are held together by magnetic polarities, almost every single joint was separated to make movement that much easier. The only joints that were connected were on the thick three fingered hands and wrists that were on gliding joints, just like the real thing. The large forearms that the hands were attached to were as heavy as the barrel of an eighteenth century cannon. Carved into the two pointed shoulder pads that hung over a solid chest plate, were several of the chicken scratches that are part of the Ruman alphabet that spelled out each player's name. The head of the machine looked as if someone had fused together three arrowheads and curved them backwards. What would look like ribs, were nothing but hovering disks that had been folded to make an upside down 'V'. The shins and feet were thicker and heavier than the forearms, mainly so the android could stay balanced. The feet gave more on the balance factor because of the fact that they resembled those of an elephant, flat, circular and stable; it also had barbs along the edge of each foot to help with traction. Soturi looked back up at the other machines and saw one of them quickly embrace him. The prince saw the name Trenac etched into one of the shoulder pads of the machine who embraced him.

"I told you he was running a little late!" Trenac said, almost laughing. He then pulled back and placed both of his hands on Soturi's shoulders that had the name 'Orion' carved onto them. "I am personally hoping that I get to meet you in the arena, only so I can beat the living…"

"I'm not who you think I am." Soturi blurted out. Trenac immediately stepped back in surprise, as did everyone else. They really weren't expecting to hear a high pitched voice like Soturi's. And after an exchange of looks, one question hung in the air.

"Then who are you?"

It was a good thing that these machines didn't show the facial expression, because if it did everyone would have seen the big smile on Soturi's face. "A kid who was lucky enough to get lost." Soturi's comment made some of the Otella players let out a small laugh, probably because they would have done the exact same thing as Soturi did if they weren't already competing. However one person didn't find it funny at all, that person was the team captain, otherwise known as the guy who was screaming at Trenac earlier. He pulled Trenac back behind him and interrogated Soturi.

"Who do you think you are? You can't just waltz into something like this. It takes years to master the control of one of these suits." Soturi continued to listen to the man's ranting, even as the floor began to rise. The prince could tell that who ever was controlling that machine took this tournament far too seriously. "I'd like to know what your name is, kid." He said, crossing his metallic arms. Soturi gave the man his name with a hint of pride in his voice and again, it was a good thing that these machines didn't show the emotions of the person piloting them. Because if it did, then Soturi would have seen the astonished look on the player's face. "Forgive me, Prince Soturi. I did not know it was you. Just, please tell me you know how to play the game."

"I remember every single Otella tournament ever since I could remember. So yes, I know how to play." As the floor continued to rise, an opening above the eight machines became visible. All of them gazed up toward the opening as the floor gained speed and passed straight through the opening. Soturi smiled when he saw the coliseum that was filled from the front row to the top ring of seats with chanting patrons. Truth was that he'd always dreamt of this moment and now that it was actually happening, he could hardly believe it. Out of the corner of his eye Soturi saw his original destination, the royal box. Inside the box sat King Jalo and Prince Veli. One question ran through the king's mind as he asked his only present son.

"Where in the world is your brother?"

"I don't know, but he's gonna miss all the action."

Out from the hovering platform where the players were standing came a mercury like metal that condensed into eight silver platforms which were ten feet wide, one for each player. As Soturi stepped onto his own platform, he looked across the arena to see eight more machines that were identical to his stepping onto their own silver platforms; the opposing team. The only real difference between the machines was that the other team's machines were painted red. When every machine stood on a platform, all of them began to drift to one another. The Otella tournament consisted of one event, a gladiatorial challenge. The event had only one rule, don't die. Eight pairs of the silver platforms combined to set the stage for the first gladiatorial round. Soturi stared at the red armored machine he would be fighting in a moment, even as a holographic ring surrounded the each of them. The ring displayed a wide array of weapons that the player could choose from. You would use your hand to move the ring and see what you'd have in your arsenal. Soturi's opponent took his time to choose the right weapon, a four bladed battle-axe with a spike at the top of it and plasma layering the edges. Yet Soturi did the exact thing that the champion from the previous tournament had done, he forced the ring to spin like a roulette wheel, and when it slowed Soturi saw a long and slender blade with a barb at the bottom of it. To be honest, the thing looked more like an elongated spear head than a sword. Soturi placed his hand in the holographic image of the sword and his hand retreated to the inside of his forearm after the ring had disappeared. A second hologram of the sword appeared where Soturi's hand was and it hardened to form his weapon, an ionized gas surrounding the edge of the blade. Soturi and his opponent exchanged looks before the platform they were standing on began to descend to the red dirt below. Soturi saw the engraving on his shoulders that read 'Cren'; he also saw that their platform was the only one that was moving down. When the platform touched the ground a countdown appeared on both of their visors, and when it reached zero, the two both charged at each other. Well to be exact, Cren charged while Soturi just jerked forward. Soturi panicked when the four bladed axe came to close to him and he leaned left, into the path of the weapon. The axe missed his head by an inch and scrapped his shoulder pad. Soturi had to think, that was mainly how you controlled these machines, and problem was that thinking is harder than it looks. The prince's mind wasn't fully synchronized with the machine, it mimicked playing an online game with a crappy internet connection; there was a lot of lag. Soturi raised his sword to swing at Cren, but this endeavor failed as he actually grabbed Soturi's sword and flung him on his back. He looked up and saw Cren's axe coming back for another swing, Soturi's primal instincts kicked in as he quickly dodged the attack by rolling to the left. Soturi stood up and realized that the axe that had just tried to be planted in his helmet was now wedged tightly in the metal of the platform. The prince took this opportunity to take another swing at him, even though his actions were still slowed. The sword was blocked by a thick forearm, Cren had easily seen his attack coming. But with one arm wedged into the platform and the other was preventing a blade to take him out of the game, Soturi was given a golden opportunity to strike with his free hand. He brought his left hand backwards as he balled it up into a big metal fist, and when it had gone back as far as it would go, Soturi's arm acted like a piston. Repeating blows that were strong enough that if just one of those blows hit a regular person, that person would not only suffer from a collapsed rib cage, but also have several of their internal organs implode. But that's what these machines were for, take and do more damage, without touching a single hair on a living thing. One of Soturi's blows had actually knocked one of the bent metal disks' under Cren's chest plate out from the magnetic polarity and made it skip along the red dirt. Cren's entire upper body then fell backwards, as if someone had removed several spinal disks from his back. The prince listened to the roar of the crowd as he raised his sword for a second time, Cren turned his head just in time to witness the blade come down and sliced his head in two, making it fall to the ground. As Soturi's body slumped, the platform began to rise again; holes appeared in the platform under Cren's stationary metal body to leave him on the ground below. Another platform dropped when Soturi's was aligned with the others. He took this opportunity to make his machine fully synchronized with his mind, by punching, slicing, and kicking the air. By the time this task was completed, five other platforms had already come and gone, and the sixth one was nearing the end of its stage. Soturi glanced down at the arena and saw what he thought to be one player in a head lock, a second look proved otherwise. A machine from the red team who's armor was trimmed with gold paint. Norric, the previous Otella tournament champion, had taken hold of one of Soturi's teammate's head and was attempting to rip it out of its magnetic grip. And once that was accomplished, he held the head like Hamlet would hold a skull. Soturi stared in awe at the sight. He restrained himself from cheering and that took some serious willpower. For a moment the prince thought that he had some kind of physic connection with the player, because the champion quickly turned his head toward Soturi, proudly holding up the head.

The next forty minutes went as all of these tournaments go, the sound of metal beating on metal. After two more platforms had gone, Soturi was then faced against his own teammate. It was something that happened very often, the fact that Soturi was victorious was completely irrelevant. The next round he took part in consisted with a red player and a plasma whip. Soturi taken hold of the whip with his left hand, wrapped it around his forearm and pulled the player attached to the whip into his sword; that had gained Soturi a victory and a partially melted arm. Once the round after that had stated, Norric had quickly and easily defeated the second to last member of the blue team and now had his sights set on the last. All of the sixteen silver platforms had now merged into one giant, one hundred and sixty foot wide stage that hovered forty feet in in the air. Soturi stared across the platform at the champion, who had already begun to assess his current opponent, and he acknowledged the fact that Soturi would be the only player that he would have to use his weapons on, and as the countdown on both of their visors, Norric forced both of his hands into his forearms and activated his weapons. Two hooked blades that discharged the same ionized gas of every weapon in the Otella arsenal. Once the countdown ended, Soturi charged while Norric just stood at the opposite end of the platform and waited. Norric waited for the perfect opening to take down the prince, and once Soturi was close enough, he took it. The champion swiftly reached inside the upper part of Soturi's rib cage with one of his swords, hooked the bottom of his chest plate, and flung Soturi near the edge of the platform. Soturi slid all the way to the edge and practically fell off of it, and if a player falls off of the platform in this round, then it counts as a disqualification. Luckily Soturi was able to grab the edge of the platform and hold on tightly.

Back in the royal box, the king and his son sat on the edges of their seats. From the wide door behind the two emerged a member of the royal guard, it was basically the same structure as the Otella machines, and was only one out of the forty in existence. It had more appeal to its armor; all of its metal was tinted just as red as the sand outside the city, it carried a spear that hummed and glowed with plasma, and a black robe covered most of its upper body. It had no pilot, the guard was basically a computer designed to protect and serve the king and his family. Its helmet was rounded like an actual head yet more angular. The guard leaned down to tell Jalo what news it had.

"Your Majesty, I have found Soturi."

"Good, now bring him here if you'd please." Jalo said, not facing away from the action in front of him.

"That will be quite a challenge my king, but you can consider it done." Before the royal guard left to retrieve the prince, Jalo stopped it out of curiosity' sake.

"Wait, why would you think of it as a challenge? Where is he?" The royal guard said nothing; it simply turned and pointed to the player who had struggled to get back on to the platform.

Norric had assumed that his opponent had fallen to the ground below, so he believed himself to be the reigning champion once again as he raised both his swords with pride and listened to the audience's chants. But when Norric realized that they weren't chanting his name, he figured it out and turned just in time to dodge Soturi's blade. Norric was caught off guard, and that hadn't happened to him in a very long time. The champion lifted his blade to attempt to lock his and Soturi's swords together, but this ended with a parry, Norric taking most of the weight from the blow. Before the champion could recover, Soturi brought his flat foot up and kicked Norric in the center of his chest. He went back several feet, with the prince not far behind. When Soturi reached his opponent, he wasted no time attempting to plunge the plasma covered blade right through Norric's chest plate. The only thing that stopped him was Norric's hooked blades that had come together and caught Soturi's weapon near the middle.

For the short time that the three blades were connected, the temperature reached dangerous levels. Basically hot enough to melt the metal that held the plasma. Soturi pulled his sword back before it became too melted to use, however he was a few seconds too late. Half of his sword had liquefied and dropped on the platform, hissing as it melted through the platform. Now Soturi was defenseless against the champion, whose swords were still useable. As Norric slowly stood up, Soturi stepped back. The truth was that Soturi didn't know what to do. A warrior without a sword is nothing more than a moving target. Norric walked forward and watched the prince stumble back. He came up to Soturi when he had tripped on himself. He witnessed Norric pull his left arm back, ready to strike, before Soturi closed his eyes to avoid the sight of it all. He heard the sword cut through something, and when Soturi realized that it wasn't his mechanical body that was struck, he opened his eyes. The sword that would have been inside of his head was inches beside it. Norric released the blade from its magnetic hold and stepped back. Soturi looked at the sword and then back at Norric, hoping for an explanation.

"This is the best fight I've had in years, and I want it to last as long as possible." Soturi smiled as he stood up and tossed his melted sword aside. Before his hand could emerge from his forearm, the Prince reached for Norric's offering. Seconds later, the two resumed their epic battle. Every slash and hit was matched blow for blow, until Norric delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of Soturi's head. He then took the opportunity to use his sword to slice through Soturi's arm that held his sword, all that was left was a floating nub. Soturi, in a quick panic, reached to grab his disembodied arm to still use as a weapon. However this failed as Norric sliced off the other arm. The prince stepped back to stare at both of his floating nubs. He looked back up at Norric with one simple sentence. "Okay, that was just mean." Norric was surprised at sound of Soturi's voice, expecting a much deeper voice from his supposed opponent Trenac. The champion had thought of two possible conclusions of why his voice was like that, but quickly eliminated one choice when helium hasn't been used in its gas form in about seven hundred years.

"I've been fighting a kid. Never thought one would be this good." Norric said, holding his blade up to Soturi's chest.

"Well I'm no ordinary kid, just ask my father."

"Who is your father by the way, I'd actually like his permission to have you as a sparring partner."

"Don't worry, my father will congratulate you once you've won." Soturi turned his head to face the royal box as he spoke, and when Norric turned his head as well, he knew who he had to show gratitude toward. Norric then pulled back his arm and plunged into Soturi's chest as he said in almost a whisper.

"It has been an honor, Prince Soturi." Blue fog filled the prince's eyes as Norric pulled his arm out and watched the now inert android collapse to the metal platform, and as tradition goes, the champion of the tournament must toss their defeated opponent off the platform. So he did before the pieces would lose their magnetic link, with one hand he dragged the android to the edge and dangled it for a few seconds until the entire thing, save the head that Norric was holding, fell to the red ground below.

The blue fog had begun to filter out of Soturi's orb, and once it was completely gone the orb opened. Soturi faced the rest of the blue team who looked at him with admiration and an expressionless royal guard. The royal guard stepped forward and said. "Prince Soturi, your father wishes to see you, right now." Soturi gave a solemn farewell to the blue team before quickly following the royal guard down the hallway, and when they were nearing an exit, a man rushed past the two. Soturi turned to see the man screech to a halt and ask him a simple question.

"How late am I?" The man wore a bright yellow shirt and a pointed hat with the same color and wrapped in a blue ribbon. Below his dirt covered pants were two different shoes, one a brown boot that came up to his knee and the other an old purple boot. The prince had never met this man but he had taken a very good guess of who he was, Orion. "Again, how late am I?!"

"Late enough that I took your place in the tournament." A surprised expression fell onto Orion's face, his head lowered and turned his entire body to walk right were Soturi was just a minute ago. "I wouldn't go that way if I were you." The prince said, forcing Orion in slow his pace. He responded without turning his head.

"Why not?"

"Because the way that one guy was yelling, makes me believe that they might want to kill you." Now Orion turned to face the prince with a thoughtful look.

"Hmm, makes sense. I've been getting that feeling for a while now. Would you mind if I come with you, so they don't do away with me."

"Why not? Orion, wasn't it?"

"Oh please…" Orion said in a nonchalant manner, walking towards the prince. "…everyone calls me Magic Man."

It had bee five hours since the end of the Otella tournament, five hours since Jalo had awarded Norric his fifth championship trophy. A diamond shaped obelisk that was divided into four pieces and hovered close together. Norric had decided not to take the trophy, but had given it to Soturi as a gift. After that, the king had announced that both Veli and Soturi would begin their Rite of Passage. A series of tests and challenges that would determine which one of the brothers would become the next King of Rumah when Jalo became too old to function aptly as a leader. The first of these challenges –one of the hardest, was to reach the summit of the fourteen mile high dormant volcano that the people have named 'Iso Kivi'. So now the two princes were only a few minutes away from walking through the eastern gate of the city toward Iso Kivi, where Soturi has happily telling his brother all about his happy accident.

"So, you just walked right in and no one stopped you." Veli said, readjusting the pack that rested on his shoulders.

"Yep." Soturi said arrogantly, his chin pointed up toward the sky.

"You know what Soturi. One of these days your curiosity is going to get the better of you." Veli said as he turned around and walked backwards to wave at a small group of girls that had passed them and caught his eye, but mostly one girl in particular. She was a beautiful and mature young woman with the name of Rinnat, about the same age of Veli. She had light brown hair that reached just above her waist, and she had stunning green eyes that were hypnotic to most men. Veli may have been over a thousand years old, but hormones are still hormones. Soturi noticed that his brother's focus was centered on Rinnat and took this opportunity to place his foot in front of his path. By the time Veli was on the ground, all of the girls had erupted in laughter. Veli turned to face his brother with a resentful scowl.

"I could say the same thing to you, Veli." Veli's scowl slowly turned from that, to a forgiving smile.

"Alright Soturi, I suppose I deserved that from what I did this morning." The prince stood up and placed a hand on Soturi's shoulder. "Come on brother, let's start this thing.

Thirty minutes later, the two brothers were at opposite ends of Iso Kivi, staring at the peak of the volcano, waiting for their signal to start. When the Rumans first arrived on the red planet, its atmosphere was ninety-five percent carbon dioxide; in other words, inhospitable to the people whose lungs breathed oxygen. It had only taken a few short years for the scientists of Rumah to convert the air to a mostly oxygen filled atmosphere. They decided to keep the dome over Rumah because the people had all agreed that 'it looked cool'. A bright yellow light appeared at the summit of Iso Kivi, shining through the clouds and signaling the princes to begin their trek. Veli, being older, had the clear advantage. It had only taken him about twelve hours to travel half way up the volcano, by then the sun had set and two blurry moons had risen. Veli stopped to take quick rest when he sat down and removed his pack. As he chomped down on some food, the ground below the prince actually collapsed into an explosion of red dust and rock. The sound of Veli's coughs could be heard after all of the rocks had settled. Veli waved his arms around frantically to try and get the dust away from his face as he stood up. He gazed back up at the hole from where he had fallen from and guessed it was about five feet out of jumping distance.

The prince began searching for his pack when he remembered that he had packed some rope in it. He bent down when he saw it under a rock and something rather big caught his eye. Veli looked across the small cave and saw an object that looked like it was an eighteen sided die that had been cut in half with two long handles that reached up to the waist. Veli retrieved his pack and walked cautiously over to the oddity. He placed his palm on one of the handles and stroked it. Whatever it was it was made out of metal and was making the prince curious. He grabbed onto the handle and pulled himself onto the die, and as he took hold of the second handle, he thought. 'I wonder what Soturi would make of this.' Veli had flinched when the entire metal object was surrounded in a halo of blue light the second he finished his thought. The die rose from the ground revealing that this object had an elongated body. The light shifted from blue to a shade of purple. Veli tried to remove his hands from the handles, but by then the strange object fazed the prince through the ceiling of the cave and out of the planet's atmosphere faster than he could blink.

The purple halo that surrounded Veli protected him from the harsh conditions of space as it carried him through the infinite blackness. Seconds passed and a blue dot appeared out of the black. Several seconds later Veli realized that the blue dot was a big blue planet that held a number of green and brown land masses hidden under puffy clouds. Before Veli could take in the sight, he was quickly plunging toward a strip of land in between two wedge-shaped regions. To be more precise, a wide peninsula on that strip of land that stuck out like a sore thumb. Veli closed his eyes, hoping that he would somehow survive hitting the surface of the planet. But when he opened his eyes, he saw that he was in a large grotto.

Veli looked down and saw the same strange object that was inside of Iso Kivi and then it hit him. What the prince was standing on was a transporter, he thought that all of them had been destroyed long ago when they were outdated by a simple machine called legs. Veli released his grip from the handles and went to step off the transporter, but he was thrown down to the ground and felt his own weight almost crush him. The gravity on this planet was three times the gravity of his home, where he weighed ninety three pounds. But right now, the prince was almost two hundred and eighty pounds. Veli tried to pick himself up but failed miserably. So he tried his hand at dragging his body along the ground. The prince brought himself to a wall and slowly stood up with the wall's help. He used his hands to guide himself along the wall. After a minute Veli took a rest by leaning against the wall that he thought was solid rock. What it really was, was an opening that had been covered by vines. With Veli's luck, the opening was just big enough for him to fall through and tumble down a steep hill. As Veli came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, he saw the lush green jungle that surrounded him. It was certainly a sight to behold, since he had never seen this much vegetation in his life, not even in the palace gardens. So the prince savored all of it.

Veli was startled by a rustling and a deep purring from the brush behind him and out emerged a large golden cat, peppered with black rings. When he was rolling down the hill, he had caught the predator's attention. This cat was roughly the same size as Veli. The prince watched in an uneasy state as the large cat stalked forward with hunger in its eyes. The cat bared its yellow fangs with a roar and lunged forward; Veli tried to stand up and run away, but failed again with only a flailing of his arms and legs to show for it. Aside from the sound of the jungle cat charging, a second sound filled the air. Something had cut through the air with a whistle and made the cat fall to the ground almost instantly. Veli looked back and saw a dead cat and a thin wooden stick with feathers at the end protruding out of the cat's head. The prince clutched his chest as his heart started to slow down its pace, when three men jumped down from tree limbs and made his heart start again. One of the men rushed over to the cat and retrieved the wooden stick from the cat's skull. The man was six feet tall, he was well tanned under his body paintings and wore nothing but leather shoes and loin cloth. A bow that was almost as tall as the man was wrapped around his chest. Another one of the men came up to Veli with a long spear in hand.

"I don't know who you are but I want to thank…" Veli was cut short and sent backwards when the man's spear head came very close to the prince's throat. The man said words that only he and his companions could understand. But by the way he said it and with the look on his face, Veli could guesstimate that he had said, "Don't move."