It’s done! It’s done! It’s done!

I’m FINISHED with Ruin, the first of the four parts of my story. It makes me happy, this being the first major story I’ve ever really finished, but it’s only the rough draft. Feel free to pick it apart and let me make the structure more sound.

Ruin

The water lapped against the cliff, playing a whooshing, sighing melody against the rocky shore of Calessius haven. It was peaceful and calm, and Valencius Terasolus felt as if he could simply sink into the rock and forget all of his conscious thoughts and sensations. The fog obscured so much, so heavily, that Valens couldn’t see Caleos port. It had come in quickly, the fog. It had just blown off the sea, and already it was so heavy he couldn’t make out the bustle of port on the other side. He could barely see the torre lumines, although he could easily make out the light they were shining through the fog. It would be a bad day if the Calessius torre lights couldn’t be seen, but fog was fairly common on Calessius. Granted, this was fairly heavy, but it was not terribly high above the average. The mariners often said that fog was the sign of a death at sea, but most in the port of Caleos thought of it as a herald. If there was a heavy enough fog, any ship could crash, anywhere, even in the Haven of Calessius. The water here was calm and smooth, and there were very few submerged rocks, but even so, a ship could hit the shore, or run aground on one of the islands that appeared infrequently in the middle. The fog did make it seem somewhat ethereal, which was one of the words he definitely wouldn’t use to describe Caleos. In any case, it was probably time for—
“Oi!”
The shout came from the edge of the cliff. Valens stood up. “Breakfast, right?” The shouter turned back towards him. “Yeah, stop staring at the fog. It’s not like you can blow it away with your eyes or anything.”
Valens chuckled. “All right, I’m coming.” He hoisted himself up out of the cave he’d been sitting in and walked out towards the cliff. He had found a rocky peninsula stretching out from the cliff where their house was situated, and had been staring off at the fog. But Elea was probably right. He couldn’t blow it away with his eyes, and he needed breakfast. He walked up to the dome of the house and entered.
Talodei’s house was actually built into the side of a cliff, with the dome being the only way in. One would walk into an entryway, and then down a flight of stairs and into a hallway, which forked, so one could take a path to the left, to the bedrooms, or to the right, to the storm shelter, or straight forward, to the kitchen. Valens headed in to the kitchen, and sat at one of the plain chairs surrounding the equally uninteresting table. There wasn’t much in the house. Rumors said that Talodei had been rich at one point, but he was either quite the miser or had lost his money. In any case, he was Elea and Valens’s guardian, and they didn’t feel the need to pry too much. Elea was already seated, and Talodei was walking over with a plate of whitegills, probably caught by him, as Talodei rarely bought anything from the market unless it was a special occasion. He set the whitegills on the table, and then took the only remaining seat, the one across from the large window overlooking Calessius harbor.
Calessius had a reputation for being one of the safest, friendliest ports in the sea. It was shaped like an oblong ring with a hole in it, the two headlands on either side housing torre lumines so, in the case of fog or a storm, ships could make it easily into the sheltered waters of Calessius bay. There had been very few shipwrecks here, and the few that did happen were usually accidents, with the lithrum generally fully salvageable and the vast majority of the crew saved. Caleos port was a town equally known for its friendly nature. Sailors generally lingered here for quite a while, and many residents had been sailors themselves once, too fond of the place to forget about once they’d retired from sailing. However, for this reason Caleos often exploited their monopoly on sailors, as it were, and items at the market were often just a little bit above average.
Talodei said, “You’re looking engaged, Valens,”
Valens gave a start. “Sorry… just thinking about the fog.”
Talodei chuckled slightly. “I’ve never found it all too interesting myself. Somewhat annoying, as a matter of fact.”
Elea remarked, “I’d assume not being able to Caleos would be a blessing to you, uncle.”
Talodei laughed. “Point taken, Elea. I suppose it’s better to eat in peace.”
Elea agreed, then picked up her fork and cut off a piece of the whitegill. She put it in her mouth and her eyes widened. “This tastes incredible! What did you do to it?”
Talodei laughed again and said, “I marinated it a bit. The aftertaste will probably kick in about… now.”
Elea’s eyes widened more, and Valens saw them begin to water. He was glad he hadn’t taken the first bite. Elea swallowed, and quickly swigged a bit of water. Then, “What in the name of Keisen Tevelaus did you marinate that in?”
“A bit of flame crab sauce.”
Elea seemed on the verge of choking again. Valens was amazed as well.
“Where in the name of Keisen Tevelaus did you get flame crab sauce?!”
Talodei closed up suddenly. “I have my ways,” he said, semi-humorously.
That was the end of the discussion. Talodei had a way of gently but firmly letting you know that he wasn’t going to talk anymore about the particular subject and he would rip off your arm make you eat it if you asked any more questions. Many mysteries surrounded Talodei. He was likely a retired sailor, but he wasn’t interested in water as anything other than a nutrient and food source anymore. Valens and Elea had never known a whole lot about him.

After breakfast, Valens said, “I’m going down to Caleos to see if I can find a better lamp,”
Elea stood up. “That makes two of us,” All three of them knew that Valens was making an excuse, but Talodei generally wasn’t pleasant to be around when he felt that people had pried too thoroughly, and Valens liked to let him cool down a bit.
It wasn’t as if he was harsh or mean, as he had had the heart to raise Valens and Elea for sixteen solsti, but he had been known to be strict, though never physically punishing the two.

They walked out of the house, then over to the more softly inclined part of the cliff. As they gingerly made their way down the incline, Elea remarked, “You were right, I can barely even make out the torre from here.” Valens smiled inwardly. As they reached the softer shores, Elea said, “Don’t you think it’ll be hard to hail a boat when we can’t see anything?” Valens thought for a second. “You’re right. We should try walking.”
“Doesn’t it strike you as strange that Talodei doesn’t have a boat? It’s kind of a requirement on Calessius.”
“There are a lot of things Talodei isn’t telling us, I think.”
“Yeah.
They climbed up the incline and began the walk around the sparsely populated northern shore of Calessius. As they reached the forested area, Elea said, “You know, we can probably get Savalus to lend us her boat.”
Valens grinned. “My thoughts exactly.”
They walked through the forest, using the old compass that Elea nearly always had on her as navigation. The tall spruces and firs that were almost the exclusive inhabitants of north Calessius towered over them as if they were some sort of pantheon of gods. They had been walking for nearly an hour when Elea said, “There’s Savalus’s house.”
Savalus was something of an oddity, as she had lived in the forest for years, and only went to market for very special occasions. She was about forty-eight solsti old, although she looked remarkably younger. She had always had sort of an ethereal quality about her, with her wispy, nearly white blond hair and fondness for long robes. She was somewhat like Talodei. Come to think of it, thought Valens, many people who lived on the northern or eastern shores of Calessius were like that. Elea walked up to the door and knocked. Savalus’s house was also built into the side of a cliff, though it was notably smaller than Talodei’s, being meant for only one person.
The door was not answered, no matter how many times Elea knocked. She looked at the door quizzically, as though it would give her some answer as to why Savalus wouldn’t come. She shrugged. “We can probably take her boat anyway. It won’t matter if she’s going to be gone much longer, and if she gets back before us, she’ll probably understand, on the off-chance that she does check for her boat.” Valens nodded. Elea was wrong, but the principle was the same. Savalus simply wouldn’t care.
Valens agreed, and they climbed the sheer cliff using the ladder Savalus had built into the side of the cliff. They reached the sand, and Elea walked into the boathouse. Valens slid the door shut behind her, and they walked up to the dinghy.
It was a small thing, a boat made of tarnished, steely gray metal. It was circular, with a stubby pointed front end to make it easier to move through the water. It was currently mounted on the track leading out to the beach and the water, but as Elea pulled a tarnished lever, Valens heard a soft, muffled moaning noise from the floor as the lithrum started up, and the track began to move.
At this point, Valens had a chance to look around the boathouse. It was small, appropriately, and had a domed roof. It was mostly made of wood, except for the metal circle in the floor, which was likely where the lithrum was housed.
The dinghy had a similar dome under the bottom of the hull, which was exactly the same aside from the fact that it had the propulsion tubes sticking out from it.
The metal of the dinghy screeched against the metal of the track. The belts fed in and out of the floor, moving the boat out slowly onto the beach, and then to the water. It slid into the shallows, stopped by the sand and rock underneath it. Valens and Elea walked out and pushed it into the water. Elea said, “It seems like it’s been a long time since we’ve been out on the water. How long has it been since we’ve been to Caleos?” Valens thought for a second. “About two months.”
Elea gave him a surprised glance. “That is a long time. I’m surprised you still know the way.”
Valens heaved himself up into the boat, and sat down at the main seat. He looked at Elea, and said, with a heavy dose of sarcasm, “Oh, sure. I don’t know the way to a large port city across the bay where I’ve spent my entire life, even though I can see it every day.
Elea sat down and shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
Valens laughed and shoved her. “Shut up.”
“Don’t rock the boat,” Elea chided
“It’ll be easier not to if I shove you out first. Now shut up and let me steer.”
Elea agreed, and Valens flipped the large, grey switch that would tell the lithrum to start the boat up. A similar low moaning noise to the one heard in the boathouse started, and the propulsion tubes whirred to life. There was a shift in the moaning, as it dropped in pitch and volume, and the boat started forward. It accelerated quickly, as Valens held down the lever to the speed, and the whirring increased until Valens let go and set his hands on the two steering rods. It was barely needed, however; northern Calessius bay was generally completely empty, and he merely had to set the boat on a southwesterly course and sit back. He said, “Alright, now you can tease me as much as you like.”
Elea grinned. “No, it’s not as much fun when you prompt me.
They made idle conversation for a while, and then Valens said, “Alright, I’m going to need to concentrate. We should be just west of Caleos, and I need to find my way in the fog.” He eased the boat to the right until the compass said they were facing west. He looked straight forward, intensely, waiting for the fog to clear, and then, finally, it did, and Caleos stood before them.

Caleos was a large town, the largest Valens and Elea had ever seen, and it towered above them like some huge, off-white behemoth. It was built in a series of about four distinct “layers.” The first layer had been built over so heavily that it was barely recognizable, but it was what had been built when humans had first landed on Calessius hundreds of years ago, and therefore had very primitive architecture. Most of the buildings had been implanted with a lithrum, but there were models of old ships in the harbor that had things called “sails” and were propelled by wind. Valens didn’t understand how that could work, but he supposed they’d be lighter since they were made of wood. The second, third and fourth layers were built with progressively better technology, with the fourth layer generally having at least one lithrum, and some buildings with as much as six. The architecture, as with most in Calessius, had domed roofs, but only the buildings at the top of the cliff were built into it. The second and third layers’ buildings, especially the third layer, jostled for space on the precarious ledges of the cliff, and the second layer was built in the awkward architectural style that had marked the transition period between the eras when humans had not discovered lithri and when they were in common usage. As such, some of the houses had lithri, some of them didn’t, and some of the lithri were dead.
The dinghy came alongside the wharf, and Valens pulled it to the dock and tied it up with the rope hanging over the side. As he hopped out, one of the Caleosi said, “Hey! Valens! Haven’t seen you in ages.” Valens looked up. Gerius, a tall, blonde youth who always seemed to have a mischievous glint in his eye and had managed to gather a group of crew of young rogues and now spent most of his time wandering around Caleos, or, as he would put it, “helping the community,” looked down at him.
What Gerius generally meant by the phrase was removing the young, hot-blooded people from their tasks, and then coming back later to tease and steal from the people who took the reins and did do those tasks. Valens and Elea were honorary members of that crew.

Valens and Elea spent much of the day wandering around Caleos with a few friends that they hadn’t seen for months. As they rounded a corner, Valens noticed that the fog had mostly cleared up, and he could see across the bay to where Talodei’s house was. He looked at it for a moment, and then swore, realizing he had completely forgotten about lunch. Talodei was very strict on them eating together all the time. He always said something about how it “keeps families together.” Valens personally didn’t believe it, but he didn’t want to make things terribly hard on Talodei, who always seemed to have worry lines on his face for some reason.
He said, “I just realized I need to back at Talodei’s. Nothing personal, but, uh, I’m going to get railed at if I don’t leave now, so I’m going to leave. Now.”
Elea caught his eye and nodded slightly. Valens nodded back. This generally meant something along the lines of “we’re doomed.”
The others looked blankly surprised. Gerius, who was the general leader of the group, and subsequently the one who knew the most about them, winked at the two, and then turned back towards the others.
“Well, you heard them, didn’t you? Who are you to question the interests of the strange foreigners who live in the vast and unknown hinterlands across the bay?”
The group laughed, their tension relieved. Valens and Elea said their goodbyes and strode back to the dinghy.
“We’re still doomed. We didn’t even get the lamp, and Talodei’s going to be livid when we get back.”
“That’s always struck me as strange. It’s like he doesn’t want us to be away for too long. Like he’s afraid or something.”
“Afraid of what?”
“I don’t know.”

As they neared the house, Elea said, “Wait, shouldn’t we take the dinghy back to Savalus’s place?”
Valens looked at here, then swore and said, “Yeah, I guess we should. I hate having to keep turning around, though.”
As they neared Savalus’s house, however, they noted a plume of smoke rising from the cliff. Valens and Elea exchanged glances, and then piloted the dinghy to the beach, letting it rest in the shallows, and then pushing it onto the track. Valens walked into the boathouse and idly pushed the lever.
There was no moaning noise. Valens pressed it up and then down again, but nothing happened. He hopped off the ledge where the lithrum activator was located, and inspected the metal portion of the floor where the lithrum should have been located under.
It was dented in. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a large dent in the floor over the lithrum containment. Sickly yellow fluid dribbled through a hole in the side and congealed at the lowest point. He called Elea in, and together they inspected it.
“What do you think happened to it?” Asked Elea, incredulously rubbing her hand over the dent. “This doesn’t look like an accident.”
“I don’t think it was. It’s probably got something to do with the smoke,” said Valens, grimly looking at the dent. “The lithrum’s dead.”
“We need to get up there!”
They scrabbled up the ladder to the top of the cliff, scuffing their feet in their haste to get up. Valens hadn’t realized how arduous it was to climb, as he hadn’t had to climb it quickly before, but it was quite strenuous to pull himself up rung after rung as fast as he could.
When they reached Savalus’s house, however, they found the dome collapsed in on itself, smoking. Elea scrambled to the edge of the rubble and tried to slide down the pile of debris where the stairs should have been, her face frantic and worried.
“Elea!” Valens veritably screamed, “There’s no time for that! We need to get back to Talodei’s house!”
She stared at him for a second, then nodded slightly and climbed out of the black, smoky mess that had once been the house of their family’s best friend. Elea sprinted towards Valens, then slowed to a jog as he began to run as well.
Savalus’s house was quite far from Talodei’s as it had taken them an hour to walk there, and they were tired from the climb up the cliff, as well as anxious, but they managed to push themselves enough to make it to Talodei’s house without collapsing from exhaustion.
As they reached it, they both inwardly sighed with relief. It was as uninteresting and pristine as it had always been, just as they had known it since they were children. Valens grinned weakly and said; “Now all we have to do is tell him about Savalus.”
Elea reached the handle and pressed it. The door slid in, and Valens strode through after her. They walked down the stairs and entered the dining room.
Elea stopped suddenly.
Valens walked into her and swore. “Elea! What was that for? You could have—“ He caught himself.
Looking over her shoulder, he saw a group of eight people wearing flowing robes made of an iridescent, deep green fabric which came down to their knees and had a slit down the middle, as well as shoulder plates and upper-arm guards made of burnished green metal. Through the slits in their robes, Valens could see breastplates and greaves made of a similar metal, and their upper faces were obscured by masks with a large, glassy piece in the front and a long, snug-fitting crest on the back, which gave way to a chainmail coif encircling the neck. They carried weapons that consisted of a sharp, broad, slightly curved blade attached to a handle that was a bit longer than it. They stood, with their weapons at the ready, in a semicircle, surrounding Talodei.
Talodei, his thick, dark hair in disarray, was on his knees with his back to the guards. He bore cuts and scratches, and the left side of his face was covered with an ugly, blue-violet bruise, which had swelled over his eye, forcing it shut. Blood dripped from an open gash in his chest, and his left wrist was twisted into a bizarre position.
However, as Valens looked past Elea in stunned astonishment, he noticed one more figure. Holding a similar weapon and wearing similar robes to those of the faceless attackers was a tall, exquisitely armored figure. His robe was inlaid with strips of metal that were nearly black, and his armor was ensorcelled with serpentine glyphs that spiraled and looped like the coils of an eel. His helmet had a low double plume of black that fell back over his plated shoulders, and his weapon had the likeness of a dragonfly carved into the haft. His faceplate was more luxurious than that of the guards, with two cheek-plates that swept across the side of his face. He stood with his weapon at Elea’s throat, a cruel smile twisting his lips.
“Well, it appears we’ve landed the two other fish,” he said, chuckling slightly. He cocked his head, looking at Elea. His eyes drifted visibly downward. “Not a bad catch, I see. It’s a pity I’ll have to kill you.”
Elea gave a shocked look. Valens’s eyes widened slightly. What had happened here? Had these people just invaded their home at random and decided to kill everyone? No, they had the air of those who had been given orders and were filling them out. But who were they?
“Zedaar, take the old one back home for questioning,” said the man briskly. He turned back to Valens and Elea. “These two can’t tell us anything. Kill them.”
Valens’s heart sank. As the man known as Zedaar and the commander of the force walked up the stairs, one of the faceless attackers strode up to Elea. However, as Valens looked at her, Talodei caught his eye.
He could never be sure how it happened, but in the split second that their eyes met, Valens realized what he had to do. But, as Talodei was marched out of the room, he noticed something.
Caleos was burning
The great glass window that looked across the bay of Calessius had been shattered, and Valens could see across to Caleos. It was in flames, and he could see droves of flying monstrosities storming towards it, He wondered how he had not noticed it before…
…And then he blinked, and it was gone. Caleos was as it had always been. He turned back to Elea just in time to see, after her hands were bound, the cruel spear being swung up. He surged forward, barely aware that his own hands had been bound, and knocked the guard to the side with his shoulder. In the crowded landing, the guard stumbled backwards and tripped over an upturned chair that must have been knocked in from the dining room. He landed heavily on his back, and the rest of the guards pressed past to capture the already-fleeing Valens and Elea.
Valens rushed into the hall, and down into the storm shelter. Elea hissed, “What are you doing? There’s no way out down here!” Valens made no reply and slammed the door shut, bolting it.
In the cramped quarters of the shelter, the only lighting came from the outside and the one lumine, in its glass pane. Valens and Elea rubbed their bonds off on one the jagged, splinter-ridden edges of one of the numerous wooden planks in the room. This was one of the two rooms that Talodei had allowed lithri installed in, and Valens was glad of that fact, for if the room hadn’t a lithrum, it would have been nigh-impossible to do what he was doing.
His fingers scrabbled at the wood in the floor, trying to pry a specific wood panel free, just as Talodei had communicated he should do. He heard voices from outside the door, and figured it was their captors. He heard the sound of a weapon clinking, and then there was a volley of crunches on the door as the captors lashed it with their weapons. Elea flinched away from the door, and Valens winced as he realized he had limited working time. The door was strong so as to avoid being knocked down in a particularly fierce storm, and it was barred, but he doubted it could hold against the men outside.
“Help me get this off the floor, will you?” He muttered urgently to Elea.
“Why? It’s not as if you can tunnel out.” She said fatalistically.
“Just help me.”
She gave a reluctant sigh and bent down to work with the flooring. Valens was surprised. If he hadn’t had Talodei’s advice to hold onto, he would have been scared to death and nearly hysterical if faced with execution. Elea had had no such thing to help her, and she was holding up well. The work was faster in tandem, with both of them trying to pry the wood loose from the floor. Valens winced every time the door crunched, and he began to realize it was weakening fast. He started to see beams of light coming through the holes in the door, with dust motes wheeling through the air and disappearing. He cut his fingers as he frantically tried to pry the wood off the flooring, realizing that there was probably not enough time, as the bar began to give way and crack. He saw the first blade stab through the door, then another and another, until the door must surely give way at the next attack…
…And then the plank gave way, its broad sides coming off the floor and revealing not rock but a ladder, covered in cobwebs and dust, leading into the abyss. Valens motioned for Elea to head down, as she stood dumbstruck, gazing at the hole. It was as broad as the plank, which meant just broad enough for Talodei to fit through, so there was ample room for them as Elea climbed down hurriedly, and Valens went down after, swinging himself onto the top rung and pushing down to get to the next.
And then the door snapped forward on its hinges and the bar gave way, and the green-armored guards boiled through like blood from a wound. One of them made a frantic grab for Valens, and succeeded in smashing his armored gauntlet across his nose with enough force to make his vision flare with pain. He heard a snap as his nose broke, and his hands left the rail, allowing his body to succumb to the force of gravity and fall. He managed to catch himself out of reflex, and barely missed falling into Elea, but now his eyes were filling with tears and the pounding, throbbing pain in his nose was making his thoughts swirl as he fought to stay conscious long enough to get down the ladder. He began to think he could make out ground, but now there were guards swarming down the ladder in the dim light, and he wasn’t sure if he would make it. He saw Elea touch ground in front of him and motion for him to get down.
He let go and felt his feet touch ground, but his knees betrayed him and he fell forward. Elea caught him, getting him onto his feet, and rushed forward towards the dark shape at the end of the low room he had landed in. As he came closer and the fog moved away, he began to make out the vague shape of a metal oval. The guards had touched bottom now, and he heard vague oaths as they began to chase them. Valens was dimly aware of the oval coming into focus now; it appeared to be a vehicle of some kind, with wings attached to the sides, and a rudimentary cockpit. He forced himself to turn his head and saw a spot of daylight, and was barely cognitive of Elea hoisting him into the vehicle before blackness took him.
Elea grimaced as she pushed Valens into the contraption. It appeared to be some sort of vehicle, and she hoped it would get them out of the cellar. She had no idea what was going on, but she figured flying the vehicle off into uncertain death was better than returning to the attackers for certain death, so, with Valens’s crumpled form at the back of the hole that constituted the pilot’s leg room, she pushed herself up the ladder and entered the vehicle, kicking the ladder down after her.
It was shaped like some sort of insect, with a sort of abdomen and cephalothorax, the abdomen being where the lithrum was located, she suspected, and the cephalothorax where the pilot sat, or rather lay, as there was a low, long ramp that cushioned the chest and hips and ran below the abdomen of the vehicle. She lay down and studied the controls, then looked back and saw the guardsmen nearing her. The controls consisted of two levers, not unlike the dinghy, a switch, and a squeeze handle on both the levers. She looked at them, and then flipped the switch.
There was a low, loud moan, growing in power and strength, and she saw the guards slow somewhat. However, as they saw that she had no idea how to power it, they surged forward again. Elea flinched as the first guard began to clamber up the tarnished metal side of the vehicle, and looked at the controls in confusion. She had no idea how to make it accelerate, and she quickly realized she would have to take a gamble.
She swore explosively and squeezed the handles on both sides. There was a burst of propellant and the long, bluish wings on both sides of the vehicle began to buzz like a dragonfly’s wings, and then there was a second burst and the moaning faded into inaudibility as the vehicle shot forward. It moved into a shallow, narrow cavern, coming ever closer to the daylight, and Elea felt as if her hands were glued to the levers. The guardsmen stopped running and the one who was on the side of the vehicle hit the side of the cavern and flew off, a large, mangled dent in the side of his armor belying pulverized ribs beneath.
The vehicle sped off into the daylight, and Elea felt a whoosh of wind and a slight change in pressure as the she came out of the cave and saw the water of Calessius Haven sparkling underneath her.
She breathed in relief, and then realized that she didn’t have the least idea of how to pilot the vehicle. She was moving incredibly fast, she realized, and felt the wind whipping her hair back off of her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, but then opened them and figured she didn’t want to run into anything. The speed was unbearable, however. It would have been much easier if she’d had goggles, but as it was her eyes were in constant pain.
She was now 30 feet above Calessius port and had no idea what to do, while moving in excess of 80 miles per hour. Ignoring the facts and working on a hunch, she let up some of the pressure on the squeeze handles. The vehicle decelerated slightly. She let up some more pressure and was able to bear the speed without her eyes half closed. She then tried to figure out how to turn. She guessed it had something to do with the levers, but they pushed in and out of the cockpit rather than moving to the left and right like most boat controls. She pushed the right one in most of the way…
…And screamed as the right two wings of the ship stopped altogether and she began to spiral towards the water glittering below them. She pulled the lever out, but in her haste pulled it out too far. She screamed again as the right wings buzzed frantically and began to pull the right side of the vehicle up, threatening to tip it over and send her over the edge. She pressed it in more, and was rewarded with a decrease in altitude and a steady pace. That was one way to turn, she supposed, but what if…
…She let up on one of the squeeze handles slightly, and one of the propellant tubes dropped its output. The remaining one kept the same amount, and the vehicle turned slowly to the right. She sighed and let the squeeze handles equalize. Now all that was left was to figure out how to land.
As this thought occurred to her, she realized that she had no idea at all of how to land, and she wondered how long this thing could stay in the air, as she wasn’t going to risk landing. Presumably, as this ran on lithrum fluids and used the lithrum’s muscles to propel the wings, it could stay in the air for years, but it seemed as though it was fairly old, and she wasn’t at all sure if she wanted to stay for that long. She also definitely needed to get Valens to a medic.
As this list of things ran through her mind, she noticed something.
There was a buzzing coming from Talodei’s house. Elea’s heart sank as she looked back over the metallic surface of the vehicle’s main chassis and noticed three of the flying vehicles elevate out of the woods behind Talodei’s house and speed towards her. Frantically, she turned the vehicle haltingly away from them and accelerated slightly, the wind stinging her face. The vehicles that her pursuers were in had two cockpits, one raised above the other. She had no idea why, but hardly cared.
The guards behind her were obviously competent pilots, and their vehicles were faster than hers, as well as in top condition. She realized that it was unlikely she would have much of a chance, so she would have to land in Caleos and hope to lose them.
She accelerated a bit more and tried to bite back tears as the wind stung her face. She decreased both of the wings’ output and made a shallow dive toward the bay, but barely pulled up in time to avoid smashing into the waves. She managed to bring the vehicle above the waves enough to risk turning, then did, the propellant hitting the water and sizzling and the wings on the left side kicking up foam as she sped away to the left. The guards following her managed a much sharper turn than her, and their vehicles seemed to be opening up at the bottom-front to reveal two metallic rods. She turned back the way she had come, and felt an impact shake the vehicle. She looked back and saw one of the rods smoking. They were trying to shoot her down.
Desperation clutched her as she sped towards land, not caring if she crashed as long as she could get away. Another bolt juddered the vehicle, and she heard an ugly screeching noise from the back. That couldn’t have been Valens, could it? She thought for a moment, fears darkening her mind, and then grasped it. The lithrum had been punctured.
A black wave of fear flashed through her body as another bolt hit her. The vehicle began to shudder, and the moan became punctuated with screeching. She forced herself to look ahead and began to pull up to avoid the cliff at the other end of the bay, but the propellant began to falter and she became more and more frantic. Finally, she pressed both levers in, merely hoping for a miracle.
The vehicle shook, and she gasped as the propellant stopped completely. The wings, however, buzzed and launched the vehicle straight up, the moan beginning to die down as the lithrum gave in to death. A bolt slammed into the vehicle and it shook, as the lithrum died completely with a loud shriek that echoed in Elea’s head.
However, the blast had knocked the vehicle forward just enough to give it some forward momentum, and that continued as the vehicle fell, streaming pungent yellow smoke…
…And then it hit the lip of the cliff, and exploded in a blinding flare of white. Valens and Elea were blown clear like rag-dolls, their limbs flailing weakly in the air as they flew into the pine woods, and Elea felt her body strike the tough ground of the woods just outside of Caleos with a force that made her body shudder. She tried to roll over and force herself up, but her muscles betrayed her, and she could do little more than keep her eyes opened and listen to her ragged breaths.
The silhouettes of her pursuers’ vehicles floated over the edge of the cliff, but she was powerless to do anything about it. Nearby lay Valens, still unconscious. She saw the vehicles land nearby and the guards get out of their cockpits. She saw them begin to walk over to her, and she hurriedly held her breath. He bent down over her and took off a glove to reveal tanned skin.
That came as a surprise to Elea, who couldn’t see how these faceless monsters in their green carapaces could be human like her and Valens. The guard put a hand to her wrist, and she felt her heartbeat pound against his hand.
The man stood and nodded, then raised his blade.
Elea squeezed her eyes shut, hoping it would be over soon…
But it never came. She heard a whoosh, a clang, and a muffled thump. She opened her eyes, feeling them widening in incredulity as she saw a figure wearing pauldrons and a cuirass, as well as a short mantle of black, trimmed with white, and a shirt of thin plate-mail dash past the body of her executioner and plunge a long, thin curved sword into the throat of another guard, then spin, parry another strike and cut through a third guard’s throat as if it were paper. He vaulted over the cockpit of one of the parked vehicles to avoid a stab from behind, and landed…
…In the path of another strike, that he couldn’t possibly dodge. Elea gasped and held her breath, watching as…
…He backflipped onto the top of the vehicle and slashed two-handed into the head of a fourth guard, He hopped off and dashed towards a fifth, his sword flashing upwards and downwards, meeting the strike of an attacker in midair and shattering the blade, his own cutting through the ribs of the guard.
He looked around for the sixth, and then saw him running to get to the driver’s seat of another vehicle. The guard passed Valens and Elea, rushing through the trees, and then the new attacker surged after him, his feet leaving the ground as he gathered speed, and then threw himself forward, his body losing substance as it dissolved into a fluid, shifting, seething blue stream that passed by the guard and through him, slicing a thin, diagonal path down his spine and across his side. The man dropped forward in mid-step, blood oozing from the rent in his armor.
Then the stream came to rest and reformed into the man. He had pure white hair that passed his shoulders and framed an arrogant, angular face with high cheekbones, and deep, yellow eyes, which seemed sorrowful to look at somehow. He looked around, then wiped his sword on the short grass and sheathed it in an ebony scabbard at his left hip. He walked over to Elea and looked down at her. She looked up painfully.
“Get up,” the man said levelly.
“Might have – ngh – might have some trouble with that,” Elea’s voice was sarcastic and humble at the same time. “I’d appreciate some help.”
“Don’t expect me to give you any.”
Elea muttered a few curse words under breath, and struggled against gravity, which suddenly seemed much stronger than before, eventually managing to hoist herself into a sitting position.
“I’m disappointed,” the man said critically. “I would have expected someone this far out from civilization to be hardier than you appear to be.”
Elea snorted derisively, but was tactful enough not to act angry with the man who had killed six of their guards.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” The man asked suddenly.
“No. It seems like you do, though.”
“I do, but it hardly seems polite to tell you anything while your friend there is still unconscious.”
Elea cocked her head quizzically, but her inner self was growing more and more frustrated with this man. He had appeared out of nowhere and saved both their lives, but now he wasn’t allowing her any information and seemed to think he was infinitely superior to them. Elea supposed she shouldn’t care, but it was becoming harder not to.
Keeping her anger under control, she asked, “Alright, if you won’t tell me anything else, at least tell me your name.”
He looked down at her, and then said, “How do I know you won’t just use it to get all my friends to do things for you and the like? I can’t go around randomly giving my name out.”
Elea bristled inwardly. She could barely keep her cool.
“You can apparently go around randomly saving people’s lives, however…”
Valens, who groaned and rolled slowly over, suddenly thwarted the argument that had been rolling closer, apparently awake now.
“Wha—what happened?” He rasped. The man walked over to him.
“You tell me. Why were you unconscious?
“I think my nose’s broken…”
“Heh. You black out because your nose breaks? Typical.”
Elea shifted angrily. “Typical of what?”
“Of your sort. You’re so used to being pampered and loved that as soon as the smallest thing goes wrong you all go to pieces.”
Valens opened his eyes more clearly. Elea could see an obvious spark of anger behind them.
“The smallest thing? Our home was attacked for no fathomable reason, some pervert of a commander sentenced us to death, we were apparently shot out of the sky, and now some arrogant do-gooder from some aristocrat’s estate is commenting on our “pamperedness” and inferiority without offering a scrap of help. I’d hardly call that the smallest thing.”
“I’ve seen worse,” was all the man offered. Strangely, he didn’t seem at all perturbed by these comments. Elea almost felt that he relished them.
She shifted again. “Well, now that you’re awake, this idi- man can start explaining things.”
The man sniffed. “I’ve decided that it’s too risky to tell you anything until we get back to my dwelling.”
Elea sat, dumbstruck.
The man chuckled. “My name, as you may refer to me, is Moneli Kovonos.”
“And where is your ‘dwelling?’” asked Valens, a little bitterly
“Nowhere around here.”
Moneli waited until strength returned to Valens and Elea, and then walked towards the south. He hadn’t sat the entire time he had been talking to them. Valens and Elea exchanged glances and followed. He led them into the fourth layer of Caleos, receiving a few odd glances from people who weren’t used to seeing armored swordsmen in their town. As they made their way to the main road in Caleos, which led down the cliff through all the layers, Valens idly glanced at the blue sheen of the harbor. There was something different about it.
He turned to Elea and said, “There’s a battleship in the harbor!”
Elea looked down incredulously. Indeed, there was a battleship floating in the harbor. Not a very big one, at least in terms of battleships in cyclopedias they’d seen, but a battleship nonetheless. The children of Calessius held the ships in awe, and although Valens and Elea no longer considered themselves children, they were still amazed that a ship such as this was docked in their harbor. It was made of metal, tarnished and grey like most utilitarian vehicles, and was in the shape of a grossly lengthened hemisphere, pointed on the front end. There was a great, grey post rising out of the top of it, with a small sphere on top. This in turn had a menagerie of curved, circular panes on its every end, as he saw it, there were many smaller ones on railings next to it. A similar post rose on the back. Valens suspected that these were the oculi, used for spotting other ships at a distance far greater than any human eye could see. The whole ship teemed with life, but he assumed most of the action took place on the lower levels.
It had a large array of guns poking out of the side, and there was a larger one on the front. It was flying a banner that Valens had never seen before, a blue circle over a white, four-pointed star, both of which were over a blue field.
Moneli led them past the third and second layers, arriving at the first. He stepped onto a wharf.
The one the battleship was tied to.
Valens had been becoming increasingly more confused, and this was not helped by the dull, throbbing pain of his broken nose. It didn’t seem to have been a bad break, but it still hurt, and his nose was crooked, making him increasingly self-conscious. However, they were apparently about to board a battleship, and that would normally be enough to make him scream. However, considering recent events, he didn’t feel up to screaming. He was, however, very annoyed.
He sprinted past Elea and up to Moneli.
“We ‘re boarding the battleship? Leaving Calessius?”
Moneli looked back at him, seeming genuinely amused. “Of course we are. What’s left for you here?”
Valens hadn’t thought of that, and as he thought about it, it occurred to him that he had no reason to stay here. Talodei had been taken away to someplace he only knew by what the commander of the guards had called it, “home”, and as it was, he had nothing better to do than to leave. He fell in to step next to Elea.
“So I guess we’re really leaving.”
Elea blinked. “Of course we are. What’s left for us here?”
She passed him and walked onto the boat.
It began to sink in, then, that nothing in his life could ever be the same after this. No matter what happened, if he ended up saving Talodei and finding out whatever was going on or not, he could not turn back from this point. He supposed he should feel sorrowful about this, but his mind was flashing with too many questions for any of that to get in the way at the moment. His previously mundane life suddenly seemed caught up in something infinitely more important than what it had been.
He stepped on to the battleship.

The entryway was a short, narrow metal passage that Moneli had to stoop to get through, dark and dank and smelling of metal, but they passed through it and entered a larger corridor.
On either of the corridor, which was painted in subdued blue-grey tones, side stood mariners of some sort, both wearing white tunics with a blue, four-pointed star over their heart. They snapped to attention as Moneli passed, giving Valens and Elea puzzled glances. This confused Valens. Was Moneli some sort of military leader? That could explain his skill, but he had a different sort of air than these sailors.
Moneli led them up through the corridors of the gently swaying ship. These were probably the passengers’ quarters, as they seemed fairly out of use and unimportant, which was probably how the people on this ship would treat passengers if they were at all like Moneli.
As they headed up a flight of stairs, Valens realized that this ship was probably bigger than Talodei’s entire house. The thought worried him.
The stairs led to another hallway, this one much smaller. Probably the sailors’ quarters, thought Valens, as he saw numerous mariners of the same sort as below, lounging about or talking to another. Moneli led them around a corner and up a second flight, and then into an elevator. He tapped a few buttons and stood back. A familiar low moaning noise sounded, and the elevator began to rise. Valens stood back and listened to the moaning, and then it stopped and the elevator creaked to a halt. Moneli punched a button in, and the door slid open.
Valens stepped through after Moneli, and saw a wide room painted with a deep blue color, almost black. There were numerous sailors in here, Valens guessed about ten, but they were wearing darker, more formal uniforms consisting of a white tunic with a deep blue vest and a pair of epaulettes. They snapped to attention as Moneli entered. The room was arranged with a pipe running down the middle, displaying black and white images on three sides, and chairs surrounding the pipe, with mariners going about tasks around them. There was a wide, slanted window at the front of the room, through which the two could see the headlands of Calessius and the open sea beyond Moneli waved his hand, and the sailors went back to their tasks. Valens and Elea the room, and a few sailors eyed them oddly, but on the whole they seemed unnoticed.
Moneli sat in an empty chair, leaving Valens and Elea to stand. He gestured to one of the sailors, who came and stood in front of him.
Moneli looked at the man, and then said, in tones that were only loud enough for the man, Valens, and Elea to hear, “We have the cargo. We’re leaving now. Is that understood?”
The man nodded once, and then walked to a tube and called into it, “We are casting off. All active hands to work stations. Repeat – we are casting off.”

While Valens was slightly offended my Moneli terming him “cargo,” He had already learned to avoid offense with the man, and was too excited by the idea of the open sea to care.
He began to hear a monotone, deep bellow emanating from the ship around him, and figured this was the lithrum of the warship, deeper and more powerful than most.
Sailors began to hurry about, attending to this or that, perusing the oculus displays, bringing reports to Moneli and the man he had spoken to, who Valens now assumed was the captain.
The captain began to walk from station to station of the bridge, asking various questions of the people at them. When he seemed satisfied, he turned to the speaking tube and called, “Lithrum to cruise speed. Set course for Volana.”
The lithrum roared to a higher pitch and the warship groaned and shuddered slightly as they cast off from Caleos harbor and slid off towards the headlands. The roar heightened in pitch slightly, and Valens saw water slide past the boat and Caleos shrink behind.
He and Elea rushed to the front porthole and looked out, nearly pressing their faces to the glass like giddy children, and saw the torre lumines come closer, growing in size even as Caleos shrank.
In time, the torre were past them, and they could only look back at the place where their childhood had been spent, the one place in the world they knew, suspended in the endless, deep blue of the ocean, and wonder.

Valens felt the final weight of his separation with Calessius Haven sink into his abdomen like a lead block. He had never left Calessius, and until he had come of age, he had never wanted to. Granted, he had felt that the prospect of leaving and going to a sister island would be exciting, but never much desired it.
Now, he was on his way to some place he had no inkling of, on a warship he had never seen in his life, with a man who could very well have been the ghost of Keisen Tevelaus himself for all they knew of him. His guardian had been taken to prison somewhere, he had nearly been killed, and he was now throwing his childhood to the winds and leaving.
Valens walked over to Moneli, and, with an effort to keep casual, said, ”Which room am I sleeping in?”
Moneli looked at him appraisingly, and then said, “I’ll see you to it.”
He led them back the way they had come, to the passengers’ quarters, and then down a side hallway to a pair of doors.
“You sleep here, Elea,” he said, gesturing to the left door, “And the other one is yours.” He said to Valens.
Valens thanked him vaguely, and then slid open the door and entered the room. He felt tears sting his eyes as he sidled towards the bed, and they began to trickle down his face as he knelt, and then lay on the bed. He felt a sob rise in his throat and let it come, racking his body with a hoarse tension. Another rose, and another, until his body shook and his eyes began to darken with the onset of unconsciousness,

He awoke later, feeling the calm, rocking motion of the boat and the omnipresent roar of the lithrum. He felt strangely refreshed, as though he had just splashed himself with cold water.
He picked himself up off the bed and noted his surroundings. There were no windows, but that wasn’t too strange. A crude chest lay in the corner, a chair next to it, and a washbasin and bucket of water next to the bed. Nothing was special about the bedroom, nothing felt as lived-in as his bedroom on Calessius.
He pushed that thought out of his mind. He couldn’t allow himself to think about Calessius, not now. He couldn’t allow his thoughts to become too sorrowful. He couldn’t allow himself to waste away.
He washed the caked tears off of his face in the basin, and then stood up. He strode up to the door, feeling the boat rock underneath his feet as he did so. His hand rose to the door handle and pushed.
It didn’t move. The door was locked.
He put his weight into another push, and then swore loudly and sat in the chair.
“Great. So what do I do now?” he asked himself.
He couldn’t allow himself to sit here and stew over the past’s events, but he was also apparently being locked in a windowless room, so he didn’t know what to do. He could sleep, he supposed, but it would take awhile to do so, and he would have time to think, which was a large problem at this point. He couldn’t get out,
So—
“Oi! Valens!”
A voice called from somewhere. Valens looked around in surprise. Who would be calling him?
“Over hear, you idiot, it’s me. Elea.”
He walked to his bed and sat down. “Elea?”
“Yes. The people on this boat must’ve installed this to communicate between rooms. It just wasn’t closed on yours. There should be a little hole and a glassy section of the wall right… there.”
Valens glanced at the wall and noted, to his surprise, that there was indeed a peephole. However, he didn’t see any glass, or any transparent surface for that matter. He said this to Elea.
“Alright, try looking for hinges.”
He found a pair, and pulled on the respective door.
The door opened out, and he saw himself staring through a window in the wall at the face of Elea.
Elea’s face was something he had never much noticed in the past, having in his childhood taken it for granted, so to speak, and in more recent times that feeling had lingered, as well as the fact he had never much cared for excessive detailing anyway.
Now, however, he had time to appraise it. She had straight, dark brown hair that dropped to her shoulders and narrow eyes of dark green. Her skin was fair, but tanned and even burnt in some places, and her face was fairly long, framed by high cheekbones and hair that she put meticulous care into keeping off of it.
She was, altogether, not at all bad looking, but he had never had much interest in her romantically, as she was practically his sister.
She said, “Good. It could have taken a shorter time, but it doesn’t matter.” Valens grimaced in mock-guilt, but then asked, “Why did you call me, anyway?
Elea shrugged. “I needed someone to talk to.”
“And I was the only one available?”
“Basically.”
Valens laughed. “I don’t know why I even talk to you anymore.”
They talked about assorted inanities for the next few minutes. Valens found it enjoyable to take his mind off of what had happened lately, and went along with whatever course their amorphous conversation took, until it shifted along the lines of Talodei’s capture.
Elea looked at him and remarked, “I wonder where those green-shelled bastards who stole Talodei took him.”
“I knew you were going to bring this up sooner or later. I think they just took him to some sort of prison. They’ve obviously got some sort of plan for him, or else they would have just killed back on Calessius.”
Back on Calessius. The words brought something of a thrill to his mind. He’d never expected to speak about Calessius as if it was a thing of the past, to be thrown aside when he had no more use for it.
Elea seemed unconvinced. “I know they took him to prison somewhere, but if they torture him… that would sicken me. I hope we can get him back.”
“You talk about him like an object. Besides, Talodei Delamon is not an easy man to break, and it seems that the people on this warship know what’s going on here, and I think they have decent intentions.”
“What, you mean locking in our rooms with no explanation?” Elea spat bitterly.
“I think that was for our own good, and Moneli should be able to explain it.”
Valens said this, but without any real conviction at all. They both probably realized that he was just letting Elea be bitter, and Elea was probably grateful for it.
“I suppose if we ever see him again we can ask—“
The door clicked, and Valens saw the handle turn and the door swing in. Moneli stood, framed in the door like some sort of specter, his white hair hanging from his head like the trails left by a ghost.
“I apologize for the lack of explanation. I see you’ve found the communicator.”
Valens looked dubiously at the small, glassed-in hole in the wall. It hardly merited such a grand title as “communicator”
“Yes, it appears we have.” He said frankly.
Moneli sat down in the chair so he could have a clear visibility of Elea and Valens. “I suppose you’ve been wondering why we’d lock you in here. Well, we have decided that we don’t want you wandering around this ship untended, because someone we don’t want to see you could see you.”
“Who would that be?” Valens inquired listlessly.
“Those green-armored people who were going to execute you back on Calessius.”
Valens almost choked. Elea asked, “Who are they?”
“They’re part of a group called the Viridian Crusade. They’re a sort of radical group who are attempting to seize power in the Archipelago. They probably captured Talodei because—

Wham.

The boat shook from some unseen impact, and a shrilling began to sound from a siren. Moneli swore and rushed out the door, his blade drawn and his white hair streaming about him. He called back to them to stay in their rooms, and dashed off down the hall.
The door clicked shut behind him like the gate to hell.

Moneli dashed from the passengers’ deck to the bridge. “What’s going on?” he yelled at the frantic crew. “You told me you’d raised a false banner so they wouldn’t know it was us!”
The captain turned on his heel and remarked, “Someone must have tipped them off! This is a small force, but if any of them get away, we’ll be too close to Volana! They’ll know where we’re headed!”
Moneli threw his hands up in frustration. “This is insane! How are we going to get every last one of those? And we can’t evacuate all of Volana in the time it’ll take for them to get there!
“We can damn well try,” said the captain grimly.

The outside of the ship swarmed with the insectoid flying vehicles seen on Calessius like maggots on a carcass, buzzing through the sky at incredibly high speeds and circling the ship, bursts of white and red occasionally flashing out of their guns and denting the side of the ship. Oculi had already been damaged, and one was completely demolished, bits of metal and sinew hanging limply from the lithrum. Sailors scrambled out of the ship and onto the deck, dashing behind makeshift barricades in front of the only available entrance to the ship and handling rifles in an effort to stop boarding actions by the attacking force. Guns began to flare, sending white streams of smoke out of the ship at the enemies. There were about 14 aircraft in all, but it was hard to count at the speed they were moving.
A flare went up from one of the aircraft, and others returned it. They began to decelerate and buzz towards the deck. One of the aircraft, buzzing around a bit lower than the others, began to move up, but as it passed a gun port, there was a flash and the entire bottom of the aircraft blew out in a shower of sparks and fluid. It was blown straight out into the ocean and fell with a resounding splash, the pilot and gunner likely already dead.
Thirteen now, thought Moneli, a bit sadistically, as he rushed up to prevent boarding actions being taken. His blade was out, but he knew now that he wouldn’t be able to take these attackers by surprise as he had taken the ones on Calessius.
He had often questioned himself why he continued to use his sword instead of a lithrum-powered gun like most warriors, but it was hardly important now.
The first craft touched down, its landing gear folding out, and there was a nearly palpable sense of tension as the cockpit began to open out like a mouth. Others landed, until there were ten craft parked on the deck.
That meant twenty enemies to fight. Moneli swore. The numbers were against them.
Their cockpits were open, but the sailors couldn’t get a straight shot at them until the pilots were out. There was a moan as guns were loaded and primed on both sides, and then, nearly as one, the green-armored warriors burst out, and the engagement began.

A volley of gunshots rang out from the defenders, sending sharpened metal spheres toward the enemy. A few fell, but the rest stormed towards them, holding rifles in front of them. The defenders loaded their guns again and fired, this time yielding a bit more, and now there were only fifteen attackers swarming towards them, and they quickly retreated behind their craft.
This seemed like a good thing momentarily, but Moneli knew that if this became a battle of attrition, they couldn’t win, and they definitely couldn’t risk an all-out attack with their inferior numbers. On the other hand, they couldn’t just defend and hold out for reinforcements from below, because they didn’t have the time.
A volley of blasts came from the other side, with no results. Moneli swore to himself. They would have to risk a holdout while reinforcements came. If attackers entered the ship, all hell would break loose.
“Fire at will.”

Valens and Elea heard the sounds of battle coming from above. Valens felt sick to his stomach. There was all this death coming from the deck above, and for what reason?
Valens had no idea what was going on or why he was locked in this room He felt his heart sink with every explosion from above. He couldn’t stand the fact that he was trapped underneath a battle on a ship that might sink, or that he had no idea in the least of what might happen if he was captured, or any of the myriad possibilities of what might occur after this battle. He felt his head slowly sink onto the pillow, and welcomed the prospect of sleep, for it was the only escape he could see at this moment.

The sun began to dip towards the horizon, staining the standoff at the deck of the ship with even more red. Moneli had given a ceasefire momentarily to allow for a check of status, and it wasn’t pretty. He now had nine troopers against the enemy’s thirteen, and the three remaining aircraft were keeping the gunners and unoccupied sailors quite busy. If this went on, he might have to start taking risks.
Incessant gunfire from both sides whizzed through the air, and Moneli surveyed their situation with weary eyes. There was an outcropping over their heads, which prevented the attackers from using their higher ground, but the attackers were interspersed throughout the aircraft and Moneli couldn’t get a lock on any of them for certain.
Then it hit him: they must not know where everyone on this side was, either! They probably didn’t have a distinct number for his troops, or else they would have attacked with their superior numbers by now.
Odd, as he had never known the Viridian Crusade to be concerned with such things, but he supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.
He had to use their uncertainty to his advantage somehow. If he could somehow intimidate them, he might be able to shake their hold.
“Concentrate fire on the lithrum.”
A sailor looked at him questioningly. “Just do what I told you,” he said.
A chorus of small explosions echoed over the deck. Bolts tore at the metal of the aircraft, ripping small chunks off of it. He saw a Crusader yell and fall off of it as it shook, and he smiled. “Keep firing.”
It kept shaking, and although the rounds weren’t doing anything except that, he knew it was keeping the crusaders on their toes.
He took a deep breath and vaulted over the barricade.
He sprinted to the aircraft, all of his senses screaming against it. He could see the shocked faces of his troops, and he knew in an instant that if he took too long with this, or aroused too much suspicion, he would unquestionably, instantly, be killed. His feet clattered against the metal of the surface, for what seemed like forever, but was realistically hardly even a few seconds, and then he was safe. He reached the metal side of the craft ducked flat against it, squishing his entire body in an effort to remain unnoticed. Safe.
Relatively speaking, anyway. Looking around the corner, he saw the muzzles of two guns poking out. He stood stock-still and watched them. Their handlers appeared to have noticed him running, and weren’t firing.
He stood there and waited, tension filling the air. If those guns were loaded, any of the Crusaders on either side of the craft could simply duck out of cover for a second, and he would be done for.
He could feel his ears whining, the blood pounding in his head as he hid there, waiting for what seemed like years for them to either disregard his presence or kill him.

Blam. The sound of guns filled his ears as they fired, not at him, but at his allies. He let up on his lungs, having been holding his breath, and then, as fast as he could possibly move, he darted from cover into their range. He could almost see their eyes widen as they saw him in front of him. He leaped forward; his sword slipping in and out of one man’s ribs as his other arm dissolved into liquid and plunged straight through other’s chest, felling them in an almost elegant movement.
He saw three other soldiers standing in shock behind the vehicle as they watched their brethren killed. He couldn’t resist an arrogant sneer as he transmuted his body into a stream of blue fluid, sliding through the air at high speeds, and slid through their bodies, puncturing organs and tearing bones.
He materialized on the other side of the craft, instantaneously feeling a burst of fatigue as he rolled, but disregarded it and dove immediately into another stream, tumbling forward and dissolving once again, and allowed the stream to curve through the barricade and into allied territory.
He dropped behind a wall and slipped shakily to the floor, feeling the all-encompassing, overwhelming wave of tiredness sweep over him. He collapsed, his eyes barely open, and did nothing but feel the metallic chill of the deck of the boat against his cheek for a moment.
Then, he heard the sound of gunfire and eased himself to his knees. His knowledge of the enemies’ numbers had helped much more than he’d thought it would, and now they could afford to wait and see when reinforcements would arrive.
The odds were now in their favor, and he found himself sneering at the faceless Crusaders.
Wait…
He began to hear, at the very back of his mind, a soft, low moan. It gradually grew in strength until one of the aircraft slowly lifted its body into the air and shot off.
“No!” Moneli cursed the Crusade for all it was worth and sat bolt upright. He saw Crusaders sprinting towards the aircraft as fast as they could, dropping cover and running as if their lives depended on it.
Another craft lifted off, and another, until he could see the last crusader scurrying towards a craft.
“Fire! Fire at will!” He yelled.
The defenders took potshots at the fleeing Crusader, but it wasn’t of any use. The last craft sped off into the fleeting daylight, and Moneli was left with nothing but a few empty aircraft and nine troopers.

Valens awoke. Realizing instantly where he was, he sat up and listened intently for the sounds of battle. None came, but he was still suspicious. He eased himself off the bed and walked haltingly over to the washbasin. He poured water into his cupped hands and slid it into his face, gasping as the cold water came into contact with his cheeks.
He walked over to the door and pulled on it, as he had nothing better to do. It didn’t open. Oh well. It was worth a shot. He sat on his bed and knocked on the wall, wondering if Elea was asleep or had stayed awake all night. No sound was forthcoming, so he assumed she was asleep.
He stood again and wandered to the chair. Sitting, he began to wonder what had happened while he was asleep. It was possible the ship had been taken by the Crusade, but he deigned not to think about that. It was also possible they had won the battle, which was preferable, but he supposed he couldn’t be certain yet.
He had considered outcomes for a few minutes when there was a clunk and the door opened.
The familiar, white-haired personage of Moneli stepped through; wearing exactly the same clothes Valens had first seen him in.
“I see you’re awake,” was all he said.
“I see I am,” Valens muttered bitterly.
Moneli stood to the side, and Elea stepped through the door. Valens was surprised, but didn’t show it, keeping his face a mask of controlled anger. He looked up spitefully at Moneli.
“Why is Elea with you?”
“You weren’t awake when I came by last, so I decided to brief her. It appears it’s now your turn.”
Valens allowed himself to feel slightly less sullen, but he wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t going to get another cryptic answer, so he kept his face set.
“You see,” continued Moneli, “the Viridian Crusade isn’t just desperate for power, they also believe that the world has been defiled somehow. They see the presence of industry as somehow evil.”
Valens furrowed his brows. “But what about lithri? I know they use those airships, so they can’t be totally against technology.”
Moneli cocked his head and gave Valens a condescending look.
“Do you know what lithri are?”
Valens shook his head, and Moneli continued.
“Lithri were originally created by the old Inner Kingdom government. They wanted a clean and efficient fuel method to power boats on the sea. They spent years working on assorted methods, until one proved to be the best. These were the lithri. However, the Inner Kingdom soon fell and their estates were abandoned. This was all over fifty years ago. Lithri, however, could not be suppressed after the fall, and soon were put into common usage. Lithri can run for years on their energy, and they’re more efficient than any other known power source, and they’re alive, to top it off. ”
“So what’s your point? It seems like you’re just spouting things I already know.”
Moneli gave Valens a venomous look, but continued. “What most people don’t know is that a lithrum is basically a human brain, sans the sentience. It’s an unfeeling blob of flesh that cannot think and does nothing but what it’s told. There are metal wires attached to it that allow it to send signals to whatever it’s powering, and it has an extremely resilient nervous system to allow it to survive the electricity.”
Valens stared at Moneli for a moment, and then caught on. “So the Crusade is against lithri altogether?”
“No. The Viridian Crusade is the main advocate of lithri. They hate everything else.”
Valens nodded slightly. “And why are you telling me all of this?”
“Because we’ve arrived.”
It was true. He could no longer hear the roar of the ship’s lithrum, although, he hadn’t noticed until now. Valens scrambled to his feet and walked to the door. Elea followed, with Moneli behind both of them. Valens turned his head backwards and asked, in a tone that Moneli couldn’t hear, “Did you get the same treatment as me, then?”
Elea nodded and said, “He wasn’t as irritable, though. I think he likes me more,” she added with a nasty smirk.
Valens chuckled and continued out the hall to the entryway, then down the stairs to the door and out. His feet clattered over the metal and wood of the exit, and he walked off the ramp.
His feet hit sand, and he abruptly felt that the air had changed. It was not the cramped, sweaty-smelling air of the warship, but cool and salty, like the kind he had smelled every day on Calessius. Suddenly, he heard Elea swear an amazed oath. He looked up, and gasped at the sight.
He was standing in a colossal cavern, easily five hundred feet high, made of grey rock. The only light was coming from the entrance, probably a hundred yards away.
He looked back at it and saw the warship floating just behind him, its dark metal hide nearly invisible in the gloom. There must have been some sort of drop-off, because the ship was definitely not light on the draft, and it wasn’t beached.
Ahead of him, the sand stretched out for maybe fifty yards, and then hit a completely blank wall of rock.
No, not completely blank. As his eyes adjusted, he saw a huge iron gate, nondescript and grey, built into the wall. As he wondered what it was, Moneli stepped out behind him, chuckling at the sight of Elea and Valens staring out.
“Amazing, isn’t it? And it’s all natural.”
Valens snapped out of his reverie and turned. “This is your home?” He asked, incredulous.
Elea turned as well. Moneli laughed once more. “No. This is the home of all who oppose the Crusade. I’m just one of those. This is Volana,”
The ship’s crew had begun transporting supplies off the boat, and Moneli walked off to oversee it. Elea turned to Valens.
“This is incredible! I thought he was going to take us somewhere important, but this is beyond that.”
Valens readily agreed, but added “What do you think is going to happen now that we’re here?”
Elea said, “I’m not sure. There should be more people here, and we haven’t even seen the whole place yet. We should just wait.”
“I suppose so,”
They stood in silence for a few moments. Moneli glanced back at them and smiled tightly. He wasn’t sure why he was being so cheerful towards them all of a sudden. He was definitely glad to be back in Volana, but this was dimmed by the fact that the Crusaders had escaped. Worry crossed and re-crossed his mind. The ship had been so close to Volana, in waters that were free of any other islands. If the Crusade had spotted or already knew of the island, an attack would not be slow in coming, and they simply didn’t have the manpower to resist a major assault.
Suddenly, Moneli heard something. There was a creaking and groaning coming from the other end of the cavern. He turned and waited as the enormous gate opened, sliding away from the rock that held it.
Slowly it opened, revealing a procession of men and women pressing against the door. They did not wear uniforms or march in formation as they crossed the sand to the sailors. They simply walked, some running, but all with a friendly demeanor.
Sailors quickly dropped what they were carrying and sprinted to the procession, greeting husbands, wives, children, friends. The sense of friendship was palpable, and Moneli knew he was home again.
Suddenly, Moneli noticed a familiar face. A bear-like man, his skin tanned by the sun and his hair dark and bushy, strode through the crowd towards him, a broad smile on his face. He had an all-consuming beard that appeared to have eaten part of his face, and eyes the color of the ocean after a particularly bad storm.
“Moneli, you’ve been gone far too long. We thought you might have actually gotten yourself into trouble!” He yelled when he was within range. Moneli’s face twisted into a smile, although his black thoughts couldn’t be forgotten. He strode up to the man and greeted him warmly.
“I did get into trouble, as a matter of fact,” he added.
The man’s face twisted into mock-incredulity. “No! You? I never could have guessed!”
Moneli laughed slightly. The man said, “You don’t seem well. Something go wrong on your little excursion?”
Moneli nodded grimly, and the man immediately sobered up. “What was it?” he asked, suddenly grave.
“Our ship was attacked.”
The man snorted in amusement. “Well, that’s not bad. You’re in one piece, aren’t you? If it was just simple pirates, then—“ He caught himself. “You don’t mean… by the Crusade?”
“Yes. They caught thirteen leagues offshore with was a fleet of about fourteen fighters. I couldn’t see a carrier, but they were much too far out to have been on patrol. That’s what worries me.”
“How many of the bastards got away?” asked the man.
“Nearly all of them. We should talk to Lord Herel; he’ll know what to do,” said Moneli.

Valens and Elea stood at the back of the crowd. No one welcomed them; no one even paid attention to them. Moneli and the other man had gone off to do something important, and as such they had no one they knew there.
“Welcome home,” Valens muttered. Elea smiled weakly.
“Do you think we should go inside? It doesn’t look like the rebellion lives in here,” Valens queried.
“Probably. It looks like they’re already moving.”
Indeed, the crowd had turned and begun walking towards the door. The two wandered at the edge of the crowd and made attempts at introductions, which largely failed in the massive movement, at least on Valens’ part.
When they reached the door and turned through it, Valens was unimpressed. A long, dank tunnel lit by electric lights stretched out before them. He sighed and began to walk.
It was a long way, but Valens was not at fault with that. It was the fact that absolutely nobody seemed to care about him that was bothersome. He had been expecting some kind of induction, but instead got a lot of anonymity.
Elea was faring better. She had found a crowd of relatively social inhabitants and introduced herself, and was now happily talking with newfound friends. Valens found that somewhat annoying, but made nothing of it.
They walked in the dimness for probably two hours, and then came to another large door.
This one was better concealed, however. It was hidden behind a bank of moss around an inconspicuous bend in the pathway and would be largely invisible to a casual observer. The door itself was of the same style as the other, but a bit weightier. Still talking, the group made their way to the door and pressed it, using all of their force to open it. It creaked open, and Valens beheld what Volana really was.
He had had his share of amazements lately, but this was something entirely new. A cavern that appeared to be twice the size of the first lay before him, dimly lit grey stone in a vast semi-spherical cave, with the only light coming from the electric lights surrounding the cave at the top. This wasn’t what amazed him, however. All around the perimeter was a series of cavities, all of which contained dwellings. Beds, chairs, doorways, all were visible through holes in the cavern wall. More huts encircled the centre, with walkways connecting the elevated groups at the top. Valens stepped back in amazement, his head close to swimming with the sheer size of it. It was as if all the population of a small city had been cramped into a room and forced to live there.
He shook his head and stepped inside.

“And you’re sure none of them got inside?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. We may be able to work this.”
Lord Sigurd Herel, Steward-Marshal of Volana, was a tall, swarthy man, probably thirty solsti or so. His shoulders were set wide, and his arms were corded with large muscles. His hair, chestnut-colored, short and thick, was kept off his face by a simple headband. Nothing about his appearance gave any indication of his rank or power.
He sat, straight-backed, at a chair at the far end of a dim, torch-lit cavern. Moneli and his companion sat across a table from him. They waited expectantly for his orders.
“Hmmm. Begin evacuating citizens now. I want all able-bodied fighters to stay behind and defend the ones who haven’t left yet.”
“Now, sir? They should at least have time to celebrate the homecoming,” asked Moneli’s companion.
“Now, Andel. If they’re in the middle of a party when the Crusade attacks, we’ll be doomed. I want the soldiers to defend the evacuees until the last have escaped, and then leave themselves. Station ambushes in the tunnels and find chokepoints. We’re undermanned, but not undefended.”
“Yes, sir.”
Moneli and Andel turned to leave, but Herel stopped them. “Moneli?”
“Yes, sir?” He swiveled and looked at Herel expectantly.
“I want you to guard the girl. She’s important.”
Andel joined in. “What about the boy, sir?”
“That’s your assignment. Stay together, but make sure you’re concentrating on your individual targets. The girl is top priority for her abilities, but the boy has a tactical mind. He could seriously hurt us if he’s indoctrinated. Capture is out of the question.”
They nodded and left the room.

The sea was quite calm. It was dark out, but that was normal, and it was good for cover. The scout stood on the edge of a cliff on top of the hills on the surface of Volana and shivered at the cold night air. He’d have loved to be inside, to celebrate the return of the expedition, but someone had to watch out for ships and tell everyone to black out the island if anyone was sighted.
He couldn’t see anything, though, so he might as well end his shift early and get inside where it was warm. He turned around.
There was a battleship floating offshore.

Elea laughed and sat at the long table in the centre of the main cavern. Three tables had been set up to house the party taking place, and they were all crowded by denizens of Volana, chatting, laughing and relaxing. Elea was surprised how easily she had fit in; the people here were very welcoming.
Valens, however, didn’t appear to be doing as well. He’d become darker since they left Calessius, almost unwilling to accept friendship. He hadn’t even attempted to talk to anyone here, and as such they were giving him a wide berth. She had no idea why.
As she began eating her food, she thought about Talodei. Where was he now? Probably in some Crusade prison, awaiting interrogation. It didn’t matter; he didn’t know anything of worth. They would have to release him.
She turned her thoughts back to the party and resumed talking. Three of her friends were chatting things that apparently appeared inane to them – tactical training, watches for hostile ships, weapons training and the like — and Elea was surprised at how well the women were treated here on Volana. On Calessius, most women were somewhat oppressed, and those who refused control by their husbands were shunned and turned away, like Savalus. Here, everyone was the same. People were ranked on intelligence or skill rather than color or gender. It was better than Calessius, she realized. Incredible.
She shook the thoughts away as she saw a man walk hurriedly to the centre of the room. Upon closer inspection he was revealed to be the man Moneli had talked to when they first came in. He was tall and broad, wearing a brown coat and a worried expression. As he passed more of the crowd, silence began to take hold; the people realized that something was wrong.
As he reached the centre, he stepped up onto a table and stood for a moment, waiting for the last vestiges of noise to subside, and then yelled, “Attention! We’ve just been informed that the Viridian Crusade is en route to attack the island.”
A chorus of murmurs echoed around the room, and Elea felt her heart sink. She looked around for Valens, to gauge his reaction, but couldn’t see him. How had they even tracked the ship? There had to have been a defect of some kind, a traitor… but who could it have been?
“Quiet! Quiet!” came the voice over the murmurs and whispers that had erupted. “It’s liable that their force will be far too large for us to defend against, and the island will need to be evacuated. We want—“
This time, full-scale shouting interrupted the man, Elea heard weeping, some screams and cries of prayer. She herself felt like crying; she’d been taken from her home to what she thought was a safe place, and now it was going to be destroyed?
“Silence! We need every able-bodied fighter to come down to the south beach with Arjun. Civilians and non-fighters are to be loaded into boats and launched for the nearest inhabited island from the eastern cave. Move, damn you!”
The crowd did as they were told, fighters sprinting, hard-eyed, to the south, and civilians shifting in what apparently sufficed for the east in an unorganized mob. Elea followed the civilian crowd for about ten feet, and then turned around at the feel of a hand on her shoulder. She turned and saw Moneli behind her.
“Moneli, what the hell is—“ she began.
“You’re far too valuable to get lost in that mob. Come with me,” he said darkly.
Elea did as she was told. She followed the man to one of the many smaller caverns in the room, and then through another door and into complete blackness.

“All right, troopers. The Crusade has four battleships at intermittent points along the southeast edge of the island, and we’ve got the idea that they’re attempting to attack the emergency exit from the main cave. If they take that, they can just enter and the civilians aren’t likely to make it out.”
Field marshal Arjun Serai surveyed his forces with a steely eye. They were all hardened and quite proficient, but so were the Crusaders, and there were more of those. The only advantages they had were knowledge of the land and the defensive position.
He continued. “Our objective is to station ourselves along the ridge in that area. I want heavy weapons and mortars on the higher slopes, hiding behind rocks. The main snipers are to set up on the ridge, and a secondary contingent should spread out in the forest and grasses on their flanks. We already have work teams building earthworks and digging trenches, so the core force is set there. And remember, your objective is to hold that ground for only as long as you have to. As soon as the flares are sent up, head into the tunnels and fight a retreat back to the main cave and seal it off. Submarines will be waiting.
You’ll receive further orders from you officers once you get out there. Any questions?”

There were none. The field marshal let them go and silently prayed that it would be enough.

Elea blinked as the harsh electric lights suddenly flicked on. She was standing in a clean, bare room with a spotless table and chairs around. Valens was standing at one end, looking angry and spiteful, and the man who had spoken to the crowd earlier was standing near him. Moneli walked into the room after shutting and locking the door behind him.
He sat down in a chair and looked the two over. When he didn’t appear to be about to speak, Valens opened his mouth and said, “So, care to tell us why we’re trapped in this board room instead of doing something worthwhile?”
“You are doing something worthwhile; you’re not getting yourself killed.”
“Really.”
“Yes. We’re on the watch for enemy infiltration, and you two are…” he paused and apparently weighed the situation. “Special.”
“And being ‘special’ won’t turn the tides of this battle?”
“Not yet. Not until we can train you.”
“Will that ever happen?”
“Not if we lose this.”
“That seems a touch contradictory.”
“Get used to contradictions. Besides, it’s mostly your sister—“
“She’s not my sister.”
“Whatever. It’s her we need most, in any case. You—“
“Are just a piece of luggage. Right.”
Moneli stood up. Valens smirked, pleased to see he’d made him angry.
“I’ve just about had it with you, you self-centered little hick. I can see you’re in a bit of a spiteful mood, but it’s not my fault if you’re too antisocial to make friends here. Now shut up or I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Kill me? But I’m ‘special!’” he said in a bitterly mocking tone.
Moneli’s nostril’s flared, and he sat back down, fuming. Valens smiled cruelly and moved to the corner.

All was quiet. The sentry could make out three of the four battleships floating offshore, but it didn’t seem as though they were sending out troops. The bulwarks had been completed and the mortars and snipers were all in position, and nothing appeared wrong.
He stepped to another portion of the camp, the brown tents that made up the perimeter making soft flapping noises as the wind blew through them. He imagined that not one of the soldiers was asleep, even though the officers had given them the order. There was far too much to worry about.
He twitched and spun around at the sound of a rustle in the grass, but didn’t see anything other than a startled squirrel.
Sighing and turning back to his post, he wondered when the battle would start. It was inevitable, and there was no real way he could avoid it. Oh well. He supposed that if he’d lived through so many others he would be fine here.

The bullet neatly pierced his collarbone, breaking it nearly in half, slipping effortlessly through his chest cavity and out his back. His eyes widened, glazed and closed. He fell to the ground.

He’d been killed so quickly that he failed to hear the bang. He also failed to hear the moan and whoosh as ten aircraft from the fourth battleship, which had since drifted around to the other side of the island, raked the camp with gunfire.
Suddenly, all was chaos. The tents caught fire, and fully armed soldiers emerged, coughing and shouting, and began to fire at the aircraft. The heavy thdthdthdthdthd of lithrum-powered guns quickly filled the air, as well as the louder noises of aircraft guns. The planes quickly turned around, doubling back and firing on the heavy weapons position. The first flash of a mortar shot lit the hill for a split second, with a subsequent bang as it blew into the side of one of the aircraft, breaking it along the centre and sending it spinning into the grass.
The flashes illuminated the hillside, showing thin, delicate trees and wispy brush along with the deep green grass, as well as the water, which was now filled with boats from the battleships.
Steely, metallic boats slipped across the calm surface, leaving small wakes and carrying at least ten Crusaders apiece. Cries came from the assorted positions as they saw their enemies approach.
They were outnumbered at least five to one.
The heavy weapons teams gathered their weapons, and the snipers sighted along their rifles. The second mortar flash came, and the projectile arced over the ridge and into the water, thudding near a boat and missing it entirely. The rest of the team opened fire. Flashes lit the hillside as mortar shots and cannonballs streaked towards the boats, smashing some to bits and merely splashing others. There were hundreds of boats, however, and there was no way they’d all be eliminated. They took horrible casualties before making it to the shore, but they did make it.
And then the snipers began to fire. Rounds of precision shots, coupled with cannonballs and rockets, streamed off down the hill and into the front ranks of the soldiers. As the boats landed, their cargo charged and started up the hill. Most of the forerunners were picked off by rifle fire, as still more of the boats were smashed behind them. Finally, once they had all landed, the battle began in earnest.
Crusaders poured up the hill, dark green armor glinting in the moonlight, as rifle fire poured into their ranks. Flares of red or white blew clumps of them into oblivion before they reached the trees and were at least slightly safer.
They wouldn’t stop, though. They swarmed up the hill, into thicker forest. Trees were blown into matchwood by the heavy weapons, along with Crusaders, but they kept coming, thousands of them, running up the hill. They were losing numbers very quickly now, though, and the odds were beginning to even.
There was a roar and a whoosh as the aircraft returned. There were only seven of them, this time, but it was enough to draw the fire of the heavy weapons.
The power that had been winning the battle was gone, at least for the moment, and the Crusaders flooded up with renewed voraciousness. As they left the heavier forest, the main body of the army was able to fire. However, the Crusaders were now in range for their own weapons, and they continued to charge toward the trenches.
The advance slowed somewhat, and now both sides were close enough to see the others’ face. The green facepieces of the Crusaders and the ragtag armor of the rebels grew closer and closer, with gunfire separating them.
The aircraft turned and flew off, but by now the mortars were unable to fire for fear of hurting their own side. The snipers gradually grew silent as well, as the two sides grew more and more intermingled.
Finally, the Crusaders reached the trenches. They still outnumbered the defenders, but not by much, having sustained heavy losses on the hill.
The first one vaulted over the edge of the trench, and the bayonet on his gun flashed in the light as it rose and fell.

Moneli and Andel, for Elea now knew his name, were arguing. They were standing in a corner and whispering in hushed tones. Occasionally Elea would catch a word, but it was never enough to piece their conversation together.
Valens was still sitting in a corner and looking sulky. Elea didn’t want to talk to him, but she was getting worried about what must be happening on the surface. She very nearly stood up and walked over to him, but at that point a girl ran into the room, panting and looking exhausted.
Moneli immediately snapped around. Andel walked over to her and said, “What is it? Have the attackers been repelled yet?”
She caught her breath and said, “No. They’ve pinned our forces in the tunnel, and they’re working their way in here.”
Andel swore, and Elea felt despair seep into her.
“But,” she continued, “the sub fleet is ready. The civilians are leaving. You two should get out.”
Valens half-smiled, and Moneli’s shoulders lowered. Andel’s face burst into a grin, and he said, “Well, what are we waiting for? You move, and I’ll guard the back.” Elea felt alive again, and she walked to the door. Moneli got there first, opened it, looked out, and stepped in front of her. Valens fell in to step behind her, and Andel brought up the rear. They walked, single file, across the floor of the huge cavern, toward a door where the fleet would be waiting. Moneli opened it and stepped through, and Elea followed.
They entered a long, narrow, cramped room where the floor dropped suddenly into cold water. A metal tube was sticking out of it, attached to a long grey craft under the surface. Relieved, Moneli stepped into it, offering a hand to Elea.
“Come on. It’ll stay closed if it’s shut from the outside.”
Elea stepped forward.

Andel kicked it shut.

Valens gasped and whipped his head around. Elea stopped short. Moneli shouted silently from the inside of the submarine.

Four burly guards burst through the door, all of them wearing Crusade colors. They grabbed Elea and Valens in a grip that was obviously far too strong to break. Andel said, “It’s been fun meeting you, Moneli. I hope we see each other again. He chuckled, knocking Valens on the back of the neck casually as he did so. The boy choked and slumped forward.
Elea began a shout, and then he hit her, too. The guards dragged them out into the main room, away into an uncertain future.

End of part one.

~ by pieboy on December 31, 2005.