Kaianan

  Garen cut the engine and unlatched his seatbelt. Being one of the oldest Liege, he had experienced thousands of missions, but today he seemed uneasy and he stroked his gaunt face in bother. “Well, it’s not Felrin, but at least it’s not holom,” he said, in the most positive manner he could and tied his long golden dreadlocks into a ponytail.

  Dersji shifted out of his seat and checked his blade was sheathed correctly in his scabbard behind his back. “You’re not the only one who can see the irony in our presence.”

  Garen spun his normally cheery blue eyes. “Brikin, the rationality you seek is beyond your decrepit brain. Now convene or congregate, or whatever it is you do, and act in accordance with my guidance. Maki, your task is to keep Brikin in line. Both of you will be attentive and adhere to my mandate.”

  They fell silent.

  “Right. Now, our journey north through the Elklien Woods will bring us out onto the Dyr Plains and into the capital city, Zanyar. Zanyar will be crowded with Daem-Raal. Our mission is to go through the capital and locate, secure and retrieve the Relic—also thought to be hazardous. Please be conscious that our mission is to recover and salvage.” Garen traced over the line of his thick cheek scar. He directed his last decree to Brikin who was surveying Maki sitting quietly, “If we falter, the Relic is to be eliminated …. We will meet back here on the second motion of suns rises, not a minute later. When the fourth sun sets on this world, it is encapsulated in total darkness—something our eyes will not be able to handle.”

  Maki raised her eyebrows at Dersji. It used to surprise her that he was able to formulate plans of action and strategy it would normally take several Shiek and Liege to achieve in double the amount of time. Further, he was infamous for his fast times in the completion of the Shiek judgements and she recalled he still held several records on the various courses. Nevertheless, he grew into an emotional wreck after Arlise had died, becoming someone else entirely, a shadow of his former self, no longer wanting to engage with people the same. She knew this was a very dangerous and powerful man, yet looking at his smug expression as he sat there made her doubt how focused he was on this actual mission and how stable he was in his head. His look only gave her a sinking feeling they had to prepare to expect the worst. “And,” she said to Garen in slight worry, “if we haven’t found the Relic, what then?”

  “Mission failed,” Garen said emotionlessly. “There is to be no error. Just to be clear, when we cut through the forest, we will camp on the outskirts of the Elklien Woods before making haste into Zanyar. Any questions?”

  Dersji scratched through his greasy brown hair and Maki grimaced at the sight. “What? It’s a la naturel,” Dersji grinned, extracting an onion from his tunic and taking a large bite from it. “Let’s get this over with,” he said with onion falling around his face.

  “Really?” Maki sighed to Garen.

  “Brikin, do you have any sense of decorum?”

  “For you, Liege Lofar, I would practice my best courtesy, say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ … Holom, I may even groom myself appropriately.”

  “Dersji, snap out of it!” Garen barked.

  Dersji swaggered past her and Garen to the rear of the cruiser.

  The back latch made its slow decline to expose the trio to the thick, dense humidity of Croone, and Dersji couldn’t help himself. “Here, let me just get the door for you, sir.” he said in a soft voice to Garen.

  “Dammit Brikin, pay close attention to me and get rid of that damn onion!” Garen stepped through the threshold. All three Felrin, now suited in black Stealth—under their white Felrin chestplates—made their way down the ramp and onto the rough dirty blonde terrain of Croone. Amid the sand, the auburn slurry kept them restricted in choice of path to the Elklien Woods. Garen manipulated the Kan’Ging in the Siliou, lighting up his lilac aura. Utilising Siliou tenacity, he hover-jumped over the sand dunes. The other two followed suit, much to the dismay of Dersji, who stopped and looked down to his Felrin boots.

  “You know I darn well hate getting my boots dirty.”

  “Come on, move along, Dersji!” Garen called out behind him.

  After hours of torturous trekking, Dersji stopped. The convoy intersected the outskirts of the Elklien Woods. “Fask of a Harpy, we are being followed,” he whispered, loud enough for the others to hear.

  Garen turned around to scope out the rear.

  “They are trailing, but will catch up when we are further into the woods,” Dersji confirmed.

  “How can you be so sure, Brikin?” Garen asked.

  “Meh. You can choose not to trust me, but I’m moving fast now. You can keep up if you want to.” Dersji ran quickly into the body of the dry woods, ‘porting past trees and dehydrated shrubbery. He heard Maki and Garen keep up without the free time movement. His boots were soaked from the moist forest floor and he cursed violently. “Stop,” he said, coming to a halt.

  Garen slowed, with Maki not far behind, and looked around. “We will camp here for the night. It’s dark enough to retire,” he declared between breaths, stopping near a huge Gapian tree with evenly spaced branches of twenty or so metres. Also noticing, the further in they got, the more the foliage seemed to wither. The forest was undernourished and nearly dead because of it.

  “Dersji, do we still have a shadow?” Garen asked, looking concerned.

  “No, we outran them,” Dersji said, evaluating the fog filled sky above.

  “Good. Maki, you’re on first watch duty. Wake Brikin up at the third hour and then get some rest. And Dersji,” Garen began, watching the Liege, now in his socks scrubbing away at his white boots with a rag.

  “What?”

  Garen closed his jaw at the sight. “Please, do us all a favour, and sleep.”

  Brikin rolled his eyes. “Ah. Am I not your Prince Felrin, Garen? These aren’t impeccable manners? You reason I’m grumpy because I have woken up on the wrong side of my Stav bed at dawn?” he waltzed around, caressing his boots.

  “No, Dersji, no-one can reason with your insolence. You take the crown for that.”

  Brikin laughed. “At least you’re accepting I wear a crown.”

  “Just get to sleep!”

  Dersji finished polishing his shoes, found a nice spot to form a shelter, and with a flick of his purple sparking wrist, a small fabricated tent formed of dark green. It wasn’t the roomiest of shelters, but Dersji wasn’t going for lavish. A simple sleeping quarters was fine. It was Dersji’s favourite thing about the Kan’Ging, it would never let you go restless. The last time he used a shelter though, he had been suffering from slight insomnia.

  Dersji lay on the thin cotton material, the only thing in the tent which replicated a common Stav bed, and sighed. Relaxing his body, he began to meditate and Kaianan fell into his mind. It made him wonder where she was. He tried to locate her on Rivalex. This, he thought, would be impossible since they no longer held the Liege and Menial bond. Though surprisingly, he sensed her energy, positioning her in a neighbouring galaxy, the Milky Way.

  “That’s not right,” he said out loud in disbelief. “Damn you, defiant girl.” He closed his eyes and reached out to her to see if she would feel his presence, then a shadow flickered outside his shelter, blurring the light shining onto the left side of his bed, and he snapped his eyes open and quietly removed his Shiek blade from its scabbard on the ground.

  His shelter fabric was being torn from top to bottom at the rear, near the head of his bed. He was livid the intruder had caught up with them again. Absolute lacklustre performance on his behalf—now was not the time be critical though, he crouched in a half standing half kneeling position waiting for the fabric to stop being hacked at. Upon finishing, the trespasser simply entered the darkness within. Dersji lunged in anger, grabbing the back of the intruder’s head with his free hand and spinning it around to use his blade to cut the impostor’s throat.

  “Dersji!” she screamed—just in time for Brikin to prevent breaking the skin.

  In complete s
hock, he loosened his grip on the knife at her throat and gazed into the panicking face of his estranged Liege Shiek wife. What in Giliou’s name was she doing here? Sachindra leaned forward into the blade and kissed him. He drew back to prevent cutting her. Still holding the back of her head, he pursed his lips away but she was adamant to get nearer to him. He tussled with her arms trying to wrap around him while he tried to pin her back with his free hand.

  Are you insane?” Dersji said, trying not to sound overly irate. He took a deep breath and gave up fighting. He refused to reciprocate. Arms outstretched, he dropped his blade and she pulled away to look into his eyes and hear his pleading words: “I won’t fight you, Sachindra.”

  Ignoring him, she frantically tried to kiss him again. This time he felt her love seeping every inch around him, into the Siliou. He knew right then—resistance was pointless. She still had him, and without giving it a second thought, his love automatically began to connect with hers. The purple aura fired up around them; sparks ignited and zapped past them in connection. Dersji cursed thoroughly at his weakness, twice in one day he slipped up. Was this becoming a bad habit? Robotically his arms went around her waist and pulled her close. He kissed her back and after almost eighteen years apart, they reconnected in their once lost Siliou.

  Next morning, Dersji watched the first of four suns rise in the sky through thick fog. He sat against the Gapian tree watching Sachindra manipulate the fire, freezing it in time while she turned the meat over. Such skill she had when she applied herself, Dersji thought. Maki sat near the flames and gnawed on a drumstick of meat Sachin had cooked moments before.

  “So you have been stalking us, Sachin?” Garen scrutinised her.

  “Don’t be naïve, Garen, you all knew I would make an appearance.” Sachin said weakly, “after all, it is my son you are after.”

  Dersji could hear the fear behind her words. Garen pressed on without noticing. “Regardless of the Relic being your son or not, you have not been committed to this mission. The Felrin have sworn oaths to matters concerning task orientation. You must be sanctioned for this wrongdoing. It is out of my power to simply grant you a pardon for what you call an appearance.”

  “I’ll take the penalty.” Dersji spoke up for the first time all morning. All eyes fell on him. He stared at Garen, trying—with difficulty—to avoid Sachin’s incredulous stare.

  Garen’s face was a mixture of surprise and anger. “You wish to take your estranged wife’s consequence for a mission she never undertook to begin with?”

  Dersji knew she was no longer his estranged wife, he was once again tied to the woman from whom it had taken him years to free his aura, all it took was one slip and now she was right back, grasping every move he made. It was the worst time for this to happen, and he couldn’t help think she had come here for a reason other than to rescue Arlise.

  “You must be a glutton for punishment.”

  “Aye,” he said to Garen, fetching an onion from his robe.

  “How many of those do you keep?” Maki piped up.

  “Since the Felrin became more hospitable, enough to keep me fragrant for a good while.” Dersji smiled, taking a bite from it.

  “Dersji, you will be sanctioned.” Garen said sternly, “mark my words.”

  The eccentric Liege simply nodded in reply. He uprooted himself and sauntered toward the Dyr Plains.

  “Brikin, where are you going?”

  “I thought you said we have to meet back here at the fourth sun’s rise?”

  “We do, but why are you leaving?”

  “Garen, time isn’t on our side. Although I’d love to listen to you speak all day, I am assigned to this mission, and right now you are delaying its completion.”

  “Maki, prepare our departure,” Garen ordered. Maki quickly retrieved her blade and twirled her bright purple aura in her palm, spreading her fingers out to dissolve the two remaining shelters. She continued to use her aura to extinguish the fire while Sachin consumed the last morsels of meat. Dersji paced onwards and the other three swiftly followed.

  Garen, still outraged at Dersji’s lack of respect, ran and caught up to the Liege. “You know I have a plan for this extraction. It would be wise to let me lead.”

  “Garen,” Dersji wiped his onion-covered face, “I’m not here to step on your toes or take the lead off you. I’m here to see this assignment through to its conclusion. Understand, I have been committed to this against my own will. Despite this, I will not fail. You can use me as a resource, or you can leave me in the background. Either way, I’ll do what I want. I would advise you allow me to follow my own course while you and your fellow Liege Shiek go about whatever venture you have planned.”

  Garen did not comment on Brikin’s ridiculous notions, or his malodorous breath for that matter. He stared at Maki who shrugged. What could he do but be accommodating? The Felrin Congress had chosen Dersji Brikin for a reason. The Dersji Brikin who had set half a world on fire because he thought the planet was going to freeze over due to changing weather, the Dersji Brikin who had drained a whole water city of water because he was inclined to think that would assist the breakout of the fever that had spread through the citizens, and the Dersji Brikin that had practically killed his own son by allowing him to accompany him on his personal mission without permission from Congress. The notorious Dersji Brikin and his adventures… they were loveable fables to every household child in Felrin. And this is who Congress trusted to retrieve the very same boy he sentenced to death? Garen shook his head in distaste, kept pace with Dersji and hoped that he would not create a disaster out of this operation. He snorted at that. Every part of him knew the man likely would, and he braced himself for the uncertainty of the escapade ahead.

  Dersji glanced up.

  Squinting, he scrunched up his nose. The sand dunes were firing windy sprays in a diagonal direction against his Felrin Stealth whites and in his brown eyes and hair, with strands swirling across his vision to his shoulders. He pushed forward through the conditions, wishing he could ‘port straight to the capital. Flanked by three other Liege, Dersji lead the way by surging his Kan’Ging aura through him and shielding himself from the weather. Glowing purple flames pushed further out from his body to control the Siliou around him in a forcefield of protection.

  “Dersji! Two more kilometres!”

  Dersji nodded to Liege Garen Lofar. Garen had transported them here by steadily navigating the Felrin cruiser through spurting volcanos and heavy fog. Garen, a tall, pale skinned and blonde dreadlock wearing Liege, was a skilled pilot. Dersji never liked Garen being in charge, he wasn’t known for his strategy. Like the fact their cruiser was two days behind them and even though it was because every other terrain was too hazardous to land them in, it still left a very difficult route for escape should they require it.

  “I can feel the pull of the Siliou,” Maki said as they finally made it through the dunes and broken shrapnel of some type of building and reached the outskirts of the city. The weather had subsided. The city was lifeless. Dersji, being stripped of his Kan’Ging aura, looked down to the red dirt under his white boots which spread right to the middle of the city, to the huge sandstone temple that sat in the centre of hundreds of small meshy type homes. He took his eyes to Maki.

  “I feel it too,” he said, feeling unable to reignite his aura. Maki, a cuter woman than the one beside her, swiped her short brown hair back behind her tiny ears. She had beady blue eyes and a button nose, and was a lot smaller in size than the rest of the Liege. She reached for her scabbard under her white robe.

  “Not yet,” Dersji said, waving his hand at her. The Liege without Kan’Ging wouldn’t be too capable of defending themselves from hundreds, but bladework would be the next best thing. They weren’t here to kill though, Dersji wanted to make that clear.

  “So what are we going to do about it?” The voice came from the other side of Maki. Dersji had purposefully kept his distance from her although it was futile. He didn’t look at her but he
could feel those green eyes burning into him under that wavy chocolate hair of hers. Just her voice gave him the chills.

  Dersji, ignoring her, flexed his hands open and shut, feeling the difficulty of the Siliou.

  “It’s a vortex to forbid the species from leaving,” he said quietly, “…and it’s stripping the use of Kan’Ging. It may help with keeping the Relic imprisoned, but it looks like we just walked into a trap.”

  “Let’s move,” Garen said.

  All Liege advancing directly into the trap.

  Chapter Fifteen: Acquaintances

  Kaianan felt the top part of her mouth when she awoke, it was completely dry; her tongue had made contact with the roof and got stuck there. She willed herself to swallow and spread the moisture around. Her head was hazy and thumping, her recollection even worse. Light prickled her eyelids.

  It felt like at some stage someone had picked up and carried her.

  “Wait …” She glanced down to a black blanket over her and a room, or more like a whole house; she was on a sofa, and there was a white tiled kitchen there –

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re awake.” The voice came from behind her. Kaianan turned her head right, over her shoulder and over the back of the beige sofa. Out of a door came the Seevaar from last night. Julius.

  “You!” She launched the blanket off of her and looked around for something to throw or defend herself with. She picked up a device with buttons on it from the small glass table and sent it flying.