Disclaimer-i dont own Storm Hawks or Deltora Quest.
keep in mind that some of the history below, when it comes to the cartoon itself, are basically fan perceptions.
fun fact- the max speed of the Strikeflier is 900 knots per hour, although the speed runs down the fuel gauge fast, and a remarkable amount of talent is needed to keep the ship going in the right directions(if not, the controls get unruly and too dangerous.) when first built no one wanted it, mainly for the unusual appearance(pic drawn by me art/strikeflier-Lycanthropes-carrier-ship-446277408) and out of belief that the builder was just pitching a false tale. It was later picked up by a sky knight squadron that took a chance with it, which set off the ship's long journey through the hands of mercenaries, pirates, and sky knights over two centuries. (the Strikeflier is a total of 218 years old at the point of this story, believed to be the Condor's Deltoran made predecessor. The assumption was made from the detail that the Condor's blueprints were drawn by the maker of the Strikeflier then bought by the Storm Hawks. Before the Lycanthropes, the Red Wolves, Fearon's father's group, owned it.)
the Strikeflier's own blueprints are lost, believed burned long ago.
fun fact 2- the Shifting Sands is part of one of Deltora's eight territories, the Lapiz Lazuli territory. It is known as the realm of luck, due to being named after the Lapiz lazuli. In Deltoran culture, the midnight blue gem is thought to posses the ability to bring good luck, and have alink with the opal, another of the cherished Deltoran gems (the great opal is believed to show visions of the future, or possible futures. when near the great lapiz lazuli, both gems become stronger.)
CHAPTER 7
Lost in the Sands
Brendon's ears felt like curling under the tirade of language. Takar had been cursing for several minutes, not even counting the initial thirty seconds before the eerie sandstorm. Feeling wretched and dirty, Brendon dusted red sand out of his gray fur and gazed out over the endless sweep of desert. The Shifting Sand's masters had sure waited for a good time to strike.
The Strikeflier was nowhere in sight. Without a ship, most people were good as dead out here.
The sardonic thought was barely over before Takar paused to take breath. The kerion had stopped his rapid pacing upon cresting a dune, poking the mound experimentally several times.
"Er…what are you checking for…" Lehvahk let the words linger.
Takar shot him a dirty look. "Sand beasts, of course. Idiot."
As insults went, Brendon noted it was not as…imaginative…as most of Takar's obscenities were. He put it down to distraction, especially when Takar pulled something from inside his zippered pants pocket.
Intrigued, Brendon began to climb the dune in turn. Behind him, Somra spat out sand and muttered something. He winced when Lehvahk replied with one sounded like a bad joke. Thumps sounded as the two began to fight.
Ignoring the scuffle, Brendon crested the dune and peered at Takar's small electronic. He had been flicking small switches and pressing buttons ever since he'd pulled it out. The motley thing looked like a cross between a tiny radio and a cell phone. It had likely not been made from bought parts.
"What's that supposed to do?"
Takar flipped one last switch in a crisply precise fashion. The tiny device lit up with magic runes, patterning exposed wire. "Homing beacon to the ship. The light's strong, so it can't be more than a few hours away. It's crossing the sands that'll be the problem."
Brendon shuffled in place, staring with narrowed eyes out across the vista. "Sand beasts?"
"That, the frickin heat, the bugs, the Hive's influence." Takar scowled and kicked the dune. "Everything's stacked against us."
Panting announced the presence of Lehvahk as the new arrival scrambled up to them. He slipped as one part of the dune cleaved away, then recovered his balance with a wide smile. "Lotsa lights on that thing. What's it for?"
Takar sighed, letting his shoulders slump. "In the language of idiots," he said patronizingly, "It's a glittery thing that'll help us find the Strikeflier again."
Brendon couldn't help but laugh a little. It seemed to take Lehvahk a second to realize he had been insulted-upon which his eyes went wide and he immediately attempted to protest.
"Hey, I'm smart!"
"About as much as a rock," Brendon muttered before he could stop himself. Lehvahk scowled at him while Somra broke out laughing behind him.
All were abruptly silenced when Takar's head shot up and his ears perked. He raised a hand in an authoritative gesture to stop.
It was known to everyone present that Takar didn't have actual authority, but they stiffened and obeyed anyway in response to the unspoken aura of leadership that Takar didn't even seem to know he had. Brendon surreptitiously slipped his staff from his back, spells already dancing through his mind. Somra had drawn her spear, Takar his heavy two handed sword. Lehvahk's fingers trembled near his rifle.
A glimpse of a carapace breached the sand like the back of a whale in the ocean. It paused briefly, and the group remained stock still. Brendon didn't dare breathe, and he didn't think anyone else was either.
The sand beast's tail flicked under the grainy covering. Then it turned west and slithered off. All three companions relaxed.
"Whew." Brendon hunched his shoulders, trying not to show how rattled he was. "Let's get out of here."
The trek then began. It was long, wearying, and by the time the familiar gleam of red, dark gray, and silver metal of the Strikeflier could be seen in a fuzzy blur, Brendon was ready to collapse.
He would have if a spiny black thing hadn't been there too-a black thing that, after several blinks, revealed itself as a sand beast. Judging from clotted black blood and the fine cracks on the carapace, it had to be the same one from the first day.
Brendon's heart sank. "That thing's got some fine predatory instincts. It must've figured that if it guarded our home, it would catch us."
"Clearly it's angry," Takar growled. "Blasted thing didn't even hide itself. It wants us to fight it."
As if to confirm, the shape stirred. Unfolding spiky limbs, it gazed at the dune they had ducked behind. Judging from the furtive glimpse Brendon snagged afterward, though, it didn't seem to want to come after them.
Yet.
"I'll give that thing a fight if it wants one," seethed Somra. She was burning with rage, and clenched her fists to help control the tide of anger. She snorted in derision at Brendon, chewing on his lip in worry. Dry lips, too. They all wanted water, but that was with everything else-on their currently blocked off ship.
Takar was still staring with narrowed eyes. He yanked Somra back when she impulsively went to charge and attack. "Wait."
"Why?" Somra hissed furiously, a snakelike lisp infecting her words. "We drove the thing off before."
"By scaring it off with the Strikeflier's artillery," Takar snapped back. "No damn progress was being made before that. I have and idea that might save us a whole frickin lots of time, and to keep us from being poisoned to death. Maybe even kill the goddamn thing."
Brendon let out a relieved breath beside her. "Good. Guessing your magic's going to be involved?"
"Aye."
"Cool! What are ya going to do?"
"Shut up and let me concentrate," Takar growled past bared teeth, "And maybe you'll see, bonehead."
Somra sighed, her feeling of elation dying down to sulky embers. She rocked back moodily on her haunches, thinking about how much she'd prefer to straight up stab the bastard insect. But regrettably, Takar was probably right that fewer injuries were best-as much as Somra didn't like it.
The other three Lycanthropes watched as Takar narrowed his eyes. He tentatively spread one hand a few inches before him, staring right at the Strikeflier. Somra watched with slight fascination as runic symbols crawled up the pilot's gloves hands, some wrapping around his fingers like snakes. It was different than Enhancement, and she had to wonder about how it worked.
Takar's mouth split into a wide grin. He clenched his fist. "Got them," he muttered.
Somra was tempted to ask what the pilot had gotten, but Takar had moved his hand in a sweeping motion and stood fully before she got the chance. The sand beast hissed and poised to jump.
Then the Strikeflier's hanger doors sparked, opening with a screech and a green flash of magic. Several shiny orbs flew through the ever enlarging gap, then jinked and plummeted at the sand beast.
The bombs blew up in several different but theatrical ways. Most were patched together from any manner of parts and magics, resulting in a few letting off charges of lightning, gripping vines, and simple, fiery bursts. Somra counted at least three other effects signature to several nations of origin before the sand beast screeched and turned a frenzied circle. A final flash bomb caused it to reel back in pain and confusion.
Takar's next actions startled everyone. He leaped over the sand dune and bolted for the Strikeflier, pounding past the sand beast. The insectoid creature barely seemed to notice.
"Come on, bastards! It can't see for now!" Takar bellowed.
Somra glanced at the sand beast before grudgingly following Takar's lead. It looked like she wasn't getting a rematch with this thing today. Brendon followed her, yanking Lehvahk behind.
The other three had gotten up the Strikeflier's entry ramp before things went eerily silent. Somra whirled, spotted pincers, and rolled away to the right. And unfortunately, away from the ship.
Takar cursed in the distance. The sand beast had torn out of the entangling vines released from the patched Afrisian bomb. Then it turned and made for the still open hatch, only to hiss in fury when Somra struck it's cracked carapace with her spear.
"Hell no!" she barked. "You ain't getting in there!"
The sand beast swiped at her with it's spiked claws. Out of the corner of her eye, Somra saw Brendon say something to Takar before shoving Lehvahk toward him. Then the mage had leaped out of the hatch himself, shouting command words. Bolts of arcane magic struck the sand beast, causing it to take some halting steps back.
Brendon ran up to Somra's side. She took the opportunity to yell at him. "What are you doing?"
"Helping you, that's what," he replied calmly. "Takar's got a new idea. We just need to distract this thing until he can put it in motion.
"Yay," Somra said sarcastically. "I've always wanted to be expendable bait."
Brendon's grin was wry and strained. "You and me both."
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Fearon lunged, aiming to end the fight with Ream in the fastest way possible. He brought both his swords together, intending to slash Ream across the chest.
The spirit proved to be far better than the varon teen had remembered. With a fluid movement and a languid expression, he blocked with his single sword. Fearon's attack skated off the opposing weapon in a shower of sparks.
He stuck again, this time aiming under Ream's guard. This time Fearon managed to gash the spirit's side.
Ream turned out to be true to his word in terms of feeling pain. He grunted,face pulling into a grimace of clear hurt. The man twisted and brought his sword down in a arcing slash, so quick it looked like nothing but air.
Instinct proved to be Fearon's saving grace. He sidestepped quickly, feeling the rush of air as Ream's weapon just barely missed him. Turning the sidestep into a lunge, Fearon's swords lit up with fire as he activated the Enhancement runes.
His foe dodged the first slash, but Fearon got a glancing blow in with the second, cutting a graze on the elder swordsman's thigh and coupling it with a burn. Ream grinned with wild abandon as his own arms became patterned with his own enhancement runes.
Fearon recognized the spell immediately. He tensed, preparing for the inevitable approach of a now much faster enemy.
Zephyr's speed was an old favorite for a reason among the Enhancement branch-Fearon was sharply reminded of that when Ream flashed up behind him. He whirled to face Ream, but still suffered a burning red line of a wound being carved across his back. It wasn't deep, but did serve to stoke the fires of Fearon's urge to win.
His swords flashed in precise, measured swings, and Fearon instinctively backed them with a strength Enhancement spell. New runes glowed on his arms and shoulders as he hacked and slashed, dodging and leaping with abandon. Yet Ream kept up with him anyway, but Fearon was pleased to note he was mostly blocking.
His first alert to something changing after several minutes was when Ream briefly stilled, his eyes narrowed. The swordsman's arms tensed in the slight, subtle way one did when preparing for something big.
Fearon took the cue. He stopped attacking and threw himself into a sideways roll. Ream's sword flashed where he had been just before, cleaving a long rut in the sand. There was an audible cracking noise, and Fearon realized with a grim certainty that the attack had likely gone down far enough to pierce bedrock.
Ream laughed. "Well done, well done. I'm not holding back anymore, as you can see."
"I'm fine with that." Fearon's temper was rising, his blood boiling hotter with each passing moment. The more this went on, the more he wanted to win. "Go ahead and give it your all, old man."
"Now, now. That's low," Ream intoned softly. Then he dashed forward in a blue of motion. White streaks from the speed runes rent the air as his sword came down.
Fearon added the same enhancement to his already active list and dodged in a backward flip. Ream's blow missed and sent up a gout of sand. Fearon allowed flames to embrace his swords and hands again and slashed at the resulting wave, instantly turning the sands into glass shards.
Ream flinched and crossed both arms before him, leaping backward.
A distraction in Fearon's favor.
The shards flew everywhere, and Fearon took the abrupt risk of speeding right into them. His weapons flashed again, cutting the shards in his way into even smaller pieces. Swords raised, he twisted in midair and brought the weapons down from above his shoulder.
Ream's crossed arms had obscured his vision at least somewhat, slowing his reaction to Fearon's unexpected maneuver. Both blades rent the elder swordsman's flesh, wispy vapor escaping from the spirit's arms and flank. Ream was knocked back, but much to Fearon anger, he wasn't knocked down.
"You'll never get past a more experienced being this way!" Ream shouted up at him. His wolf grin peeked out again. "You need that spell..."
Fearon's vision became laced with red. He growled, bared his teeth, and crossed both weapons. As Ream dashed at him, Fearon recalled all his midnight practice, all the times he had been so close but failed.
This time, he wasn't going to.
The fire of his determination spread. Lightning bolt and flame enhancement runes, brighter than normal, took predominance on Fearon's skin, pumping in more power than he'd ever experienced. With a shout he slashed at the approaching Ream.
A brilliant cross of fire and lightning rent the air, blinding in their effect and power. Sand for miles around became superheated to glass in seconds. Ream yowled as two large rips opened on his spiritual shell, hissing with burns.
The man flew backward. He hit a sand dune with a thud. It was all Fearon could do to keep standing himself. He watched Ream tentatively as the spirit grunted, trying to stand again. He managed to, but it had taken the spirit a grand total of six seconds-three too many to keep him from losing.
Ream's shoulders shook in a silent laughter. His form became more ethereal, the wisping wounds healing up, until Fearon could see the swathes of sand behind him. "Excellent, excellent. You've passed my test."
Fearon blinked as the reality really sank in. His heart thumped faster, all his usual aches and pains still forgotten in the dying elation of battle. And now, at this time, overwhelming success.
He braced both hands on his knees and looked at the battlefield. It was more of a disaster than the Shifting Sands had likely seen for a long time. Cracked, wavy glass had replaced the sediment in several directions, and Fearon could see his own blood dotting a lot of the ground cover.
"Alright," Fearon ground out past gritted teeth. "I won. I won't pretend I'm not glad about finally getting that enhancement spell down. But," Fearon stood up straight again and glared at Ream, "You need to keep up your part of the deal."
"Of course," Ream chuckled. "Wouldn't want to disappoint the descendant of my dear leader."
Fearon's nerves lit up with a hot blaze of fury and shame. "Do not compare me to him. Get it, bastard?"
He didn't want to be compared to his dad. All it did was remind him of how much Fearon wasn't like his father, and how much he'd probably let him down.
Ream raised his hands defensively. "Okay, sore point. I get it. Well, then. Time to fulfill my promise."
The spirit snapped his fingers. Fearon let out a startled yell as he was enveloped by light.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Brendon grunted as the sand beast strained to escape his conjured arcane ropes. Each yank it made to get free resounded back through the energies of the spell, coming back to hit Brendon mentally with the force of a flying boulder. Dimly he was aware of veins showing on his hands, and of how much his fingers hurt from gripping his staff.
To his right, Somra took a swipe at the sand beast's head. The beast managed to twist in it's bound and lash a heavy tail. Somra grunted as the mangled limb lashed her square across the midsection, knocking her back in a shower of sand.
Gritting his teeth, Brendon narrowed his focus even more. The world disappeared as he immersed himself in the arcane energies, producing more chains-binding the sand beast down even more.
The insectoid beast tossed it's head, snapping gleaming pincers. Brendon barely heard Takar's next shout.
"Somra! Catch these!"
A harsh rattling noise accompanied the words. Brendon caught a bleary glimpse of Somra running at the sand beast. She leaped, flashing metal in her hands.
Brendon put two in two together then. Chains.
He still didn't know what Takar meant to do with them, though.
Somra moved quickly. Fluidly she wrapped the chains around the sand beast's limbs, head, torso, anywhere she could get a good point of leverage. The sand beast hissed and twisted in an attempt to bite her.
"Brendon, unbind it!"
To the mage's logical mind that course of action seemed questionable, but he did it anyway, redirecting the flow of power into a beam of purple arcane power. He sent the bolt at the sand beast, giving Somra room to vacate it's reach, and causing the beast to reel backwards in pain.
Somra landed with a pant next to him. Brendon braced his hands on his knees, taking long, deep breaths, trying to recover.
"That...was...really straining," he panted. "But what's Takar-"
Before he could finish, the metal links of the chains lit up blue white with electricity. The sand beast spasmed as the volts raced through it's insectoid body. The smell of burnt organic cartridge wafted into the desert air.
Lehvahk whooped. "Oh yeah!"
Brendon tensed when the sand beast twitched some more, making a cohesive effort to stand up. He heard Takar curse and guessed he would go to replicate his previous action.
It turned out unnecessary in a most spectacular way. A flare of white heralded the arrival of a familiar, sword bearing figure.
Fearon looked downright feral, which was saying a lot given that Brendon always thought he looked remarkably ferocious in a fight. His teeth bared in a savage snarl and pupils practically slits, the leader spun in midair once, then brought both swords down and severed the sand beast's head from it's decimated body.
The monster shuddered once. Then it collapsed limply, the head rolling to a stop at Brendon's feet. All he could do was stare at it, wondering just how Fearon had learned to teleport.
Somra cast a glance at the head. Brendon felt a little sick when she plucked it up by the antennae, muttering about making it a trophy. Then the weapons specialist was running to Fearon.
Brendon looked up too, slightly guilty that he hadn't thought about his friend's well being. Fearon had dropped to his knees, his swords stuck point first in the sand. His head was bowed, every line of his form rigid with pain, and he was breathing hard.
Brendon narrowed his eyes as he moved to help Somra aid Fearon to stand. He glimpsed a long wound on the varon's back, plus a few more on his sides. The swordsman's eyes drooped with exhaustion, doubtless from the voluntary sleep deprive. But none of that explained the greater problem that Fearon's visible pain seemed a lot more than just the wounds would give.
As they slowly walked back, Brendon decided to do some prying. It was an abrupt decision, but it was starting to bother him. He'd noted the strange symptom in Fearon several times before, even when he wasn't hurt. It was well hidden, and would take only someone's highest observant capacity to see.
It was a good thing Brendon was observant. He decided to start off casual.
"You alright?"
Fearon spared him a brief, veiled glance. "Fine." He let out a small cough. "I need to get to my room..."
"To rest?" Brendon kept his voice steady. He didn't want Fearon or Somra picking up on just how careful his questions were.
Somra chuckled. "Bout time you slept."
Fearon's fingers twitched instinctively into fists. "No. there's no time for that. I just need to get something." A snarl had worked it's way into Fearon's words.
"Honestly," Somra muttered, "We aren't going anywhere until you do sleep."
Fearon's eyes flashed for a second. Brendon braced himself, thinking he might use his authority as leader to resist them. Instead Fearon just let out a weary sigh. "Fine."
"Before that, though," Brendon added, "You should tell us just what happened to you." He eyed the cuts. "Those don't look like they were made by claws. And I don't think enhancement magic involves teleporting at all."