by Zy Rykoa
The sounds of war seemed to fade away then, his mind withdrawing from reality and into oblivion. All was lost. Those he idolised had failed. He had failed. The tranquil paradise he had grown up in had been ruthlessly wiped out. There was nothing that could have been done.
He had been so close to saving his family. They were in sight, he could have yelled to them if they had been standing outside.
How had this happened?
‘Jay!’
He knew he had heard his name being called. He wanted to turn to them, but he couldn’t. He felt paralysed, his thoughts aimless wanderings in an empty secluded mind.
‘Jaden!’
The call came again.
‘Get up!’
Jaden felt strong arms attempt to lift him up, but he sank even deeper to the ground. He knew that it was Bo trying to help, but he couldn’t even face him. The pain was too great, the realisation of loss too strong.
Bo gave up suddenly, as if he had just realised what was in front of him.
‘They didn’t make it out,’ he said sympathetically.
Jaden gave no reply.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Bo, and he joined Jaden in silence, both paying their respects as they ignored the chaos around them.
Bo had shared a similar bond with Jaden’s family, as if they were his second home. He felt what Jaden was experiencing, only milder, but still the same utter damnation, the regret, the remorse and most of all, the absolute terror of such loss. He knew there was no way that he could comfort his friend. He was only allowed sanity through knowing his family had made it out of their home and fled to the mountains in time. They had been fortunate. Jaden’s had not.
But despite his understanding of how Jaden felt, Bo knew they could not stay here any longer. A fourth wave of fighter jets was approaching from the east; they would soon be doubling back just like the last as they sought out their targets among the ruin.
‘Come on, you can’t bring them back. We have to go,’ Bo said unconvincingly, knowing all too well that Jaden would still make no move. ‘You can’t stay here. Jay, please … come with me.’
Jaden’s silence gave Bo all the answers he needed, and Bo lowered his head in defeat. This was one occasion he knew he would not have the time to try and persuade Jaden to do what he wanted.
‘Look, we’re all making a run for the mountains. If you decide to do the right thing and save your life, come find us. Be well, sprinter.’
Although Bo did not want it to be, he feared he had just said his final farewell to a friend he had loved as a brother. But even if he were to attempt to pick Jaden up and carry him, he knew he could not have made him move.
Before vanishing around a corner, Bo gave one last look to the figure that sat in perfect stillness in front of the fires that consumed his world and began to run toward the mountains.
Jaden’s eyes were closed to the dancing flames. The fourth wave of fighter jets was on its way now. This was the end. He could have run still, but he could not bear to leave his family again. He wanted to stay with them, forever, even if it meant his death.
He heard the engines blare overhead, the jets releasing their ultimate judgement on those that were below. Jaden had chosen death underneath the deadly rain and remained unflinching as they crossed over him, the whistle of the descending evil piercing his ears as it neared.
But nothing would land near him.
As he opened his eyes to the heavens, he saw something wondrous, something miraculous. A play of entwining clear whites and blues near the brightness of the sun, yet soft on mortal eyes, had burst overhead. Everything seemed to blur then, becoming a bluish gray under the waves of light. The buildings, land, fire and smoke all distorted beneath its glow, and the little sound there was became internalised, explosions seeming even more distant as the beating of his own heart filled his ears. His breath laboured to bring in the air he needed and he blinked his eyes in the same slow motion that all else seemed to be in, letting tears run free, yet still it seemed he was looking through water up at the seemingly cosmic display. The entire village had become encased in a giant energy shield. There were countless eruptions in the sky, above this shielding light as bombs collided with its energy, but they seemed to make no sound compared to the voice that boomed the word “No!” over the top of it all.
An energy shield. The Daijuar were here. The village had become immune to the attacks. In all its tragic beauty, Jaden couldn’t help but feel more tears rise. It was the most majestic yet dreadful thing he had ever witnessed, for it was a display of power like no other, but it had come too late, and it meant the absolute demise of his home.
Jaden stood. Almost unconsciously he had got to his feet and began walking slowly toward where the voice had come from. He had to find the Daijuarn sentinel that was making the shield. He was not sure why or how he had found the strength. He knew only that he had to get an answer. An answer to a question he would not ask, but would receive simply by confronting the sentinel.
He had taken no more than four or five steps when the ground began to rumble once again, this time so powerfully that the earth beneath his feet began to split apart. A deep crevice of which the bottom could not be seen opened up a few feet in front of him, while more tears in the surface threatened to open behind. It was just as in the stories he had heard of the earthquake of thirty years ago. There were groaning movements of rock and the screams of those falling to their deaths as much of the village was being swallowed or pulled into the dirt. A great chasm had formed between him and his home, only it seemed to be on the wrong side as almost instantly, what was left of his house was all gone, a whole edge of the chasm caving in.
Jaden was speechless. It had just been there a moment ago, but had vanished so quickly it took him a moment to accept that it was completely gone. He looked down into the pit and thought he could see something lit with blue below, but other than that, it was only darkness. The earth churned again beneath his feet, this time making him fall backward. When he was able to stand again, many of the chasms, including the one that had taken his house had sealed shut. It was almost as if the planet itself had become hungry, opened its many mouths and taken much of what was on its surface down into its gut.
With a mixture of so many emotions, Jaden yelled as loudly as he could as the shield disappeared. The ground settled as the earthquake passed half a minute later, and the sounds of war resumed. Jaden remained where he was, no longer sure of what he was doing or where he was going. The urge that drove him forward to find the Daijuarn sentinel had disappeared. He would now have to rely entirely on his survival instincts to know what to do.
There were soldiers nearby. He had heard their shouts to one another and the cries of their victims that were not killed instantly. They were getting closer, but how far away, he could not tell. His answer came as he spotted something moving around a corner to his right. It was a figure wider than any man he knew with strange devices attached to its head and body. He knew this could only have been what so many travellers in the past had described. It was a soldier of the Alliance. These were not the same men of Hawan that had taken him earlier. The soldier took aim immediately, but did not have the chance to fire. An unknown man wielding a broken plank of wood had struck the soldier hard in the head and knocked him to the ground. Jaden was ready to run and help finish the soldier off, to mount a small resistance and save what little they could, but the man soon fell lifeless, a second soldier becoming apparent and putting a quick and brutal end to the man’s short-lived bravery.
Jaden looked on in defeat, the small hope that had bloomed crushed as quickly as it had formed. There was no use in fighting. They were outnumbered and overpowered.
Jaden would mourn the fallen man later, but for now he would not allow his efforts to be in vain. He used the distraction to make his escape, bullets chasing after him as he dodged around the building to his left, some of the shots ricocheting off stone blocks as if still seeking their target. Soldiers seemed to have i
nfested every part of the village, with two or three in sight no matter where he turned. He found his way to the eastern border by weaving through the buildings on the way. He was heading for the crops, hoping to hide within them as he made his way to the mountains.
The only stretch of land in his way was the end of a road that dropped off with a steep edge. There was a fifty-yard dash between the houses that marked its sides, but it seemed soldiers had not yet reached this part of the village. To be safe, he waited for the next round of explosions before making his way across the opening. Halfway over, he heard the wind up of a soldier’s weapon. The next thing he knew he was falling hard to his right, down the slope where his arms and legs were battered by the pointed rocks. As he landed on the grass below, he got up carefully, his head spinning from how fast he had been sent rolling off of the edge.
He had been hit by something. A bullet perhaps, he was not sure. He checked himself over. There were no visible injuries except from the rocks. What had happened? Had he just fallen? He looked back up the slope to regain his bearings, and saw that there was a soldier standing on the edge, looking down to where he must have thought Jaden had landed. Jaden moved cautiously backward a few steps, careful not to make any sudden movements. The soldiers seemed to have keener sight than he did, their helmets fitted with some kind of vision-enhancing device. This was proven true as Jaden hadn’t realised he had been spotted until bullets began to slip into the dirt in front of him. Quickly he turned and jumped into the thickest section of trees he could find and then ran as fast as he could without looking back. He zigzagged through the crops as he had done so many times before when escaping Ardim and his gang, and was soon on the mountainside, hiding as much as he could among the leaves and bushes as he hiked up its slope. The soldiers could not keep up, their weaponry most likely too heavy to run with, allowing Jaden to leave them far behind.
In the clear, shock from the disastrous onslaught was now weighing him down, forcing him to trudge along at a slow pace as he tried to focus on three things at once; on the path that faded in and out of his vision, the sounds of the explosions and gunfire echoing in his thoughts, and the sickening feeling that was now bubbling in his stomach, threatening to make him fall with each step he took if it were not kept under control.
The floor was soft, but the fragments that lay upon it were sharp and broken, inflicting pain as they scratched and jabbed at his skin. This gave him some relief, an unexpected cure as the pain distracted him from the chaos he was leaving behind.
After long minutes of travel, his body finally failed him at his destination, outside his cave high on the mountain. He could go no further this night, and he threw up, exhausted by the furious running and climbing of rugged terrain.
He had made it. That was all that mattered.
As his eyes closed, he fell onto the cave’s floor and lay motionless, trying to keep up his fight to remain conscious. But just as with his village against the military force, it was a battle he would inevitably lose. There was no more strength to be called upon, no more will to go on. In seconds, he would pass out. A final thought of his family was his last memory of the day that he had lost everything.
Chapter Seven
They eat, they breathe, they exist ... what more?
January 15, 997 R.E.
The Callibrai huddled together in the centre of the tennagen field, prisoners in their own village, captives of war. Even the moon failed to light their world this night, hidden behind thick bands of cloud that soaked the already weeping land and washed the blood and muck from their open wounds. There was light only from the few fires that still burned, allowing them to witness the final destruction of their homes as the giant machines continued to clear the land, making room for the military fort being erected around them.
There was hardly a recognisable thing left. Other than the stream, small areas of vegetation, trees and rock ledges of the Tennagen field, all else had been transformed into a desert-like wasteland, full of clay and mud that covered the shallow graves of the deceased. The field had become as an oasis, the last piece of paradise left.
It had all happened so quickly. The attack that saw their friends and family perish, the earthquake that had ripped the very ground apart, and the merciless tactics the soldiers employed to bring them here. It seemed only moments ago they had been living in peace as they had done for their entire lives, readying for just another quiet night.
And yet now they faced the nightmare authority of those that contained them, clinging to one another for comfort in the cold, while the injured lay dying slowly without the necessary treatment. It was obvious now that this force was of the World Protection Alliance, the rumours now confirmed true, that they were ruthless in their desire to conquer the world, rather than their stated purpose of protecting the world.
Some who could not stand this injustice called out to their oppressors, labelling them cowards, murderers and beasts of evil. But their pleas for the needed attention were answered with the strictest of disciplines, often ending in brutal beatings or even immediate execution. The soldiers had shown they had little feeling for the people, and not a single voice dared cry out after several of their kin had fallen lifeless.
The Callibrai sat in silence, awaiting their final judgement. Few eyes were brave enough to rise to the man in black uniform and cape that passed by them. His language and accent were foreign, but the control in his voice among such hardship showed his power. He was the commander of this army, General Alkon Zaccarah of the nation Ordear, a man who stood over six feet, with hair so dark that it seemed to disappear over his shoulders as it rested against his clothes. His nose was hooked and his eyes sunken under downward curving brows, hiding any emotion he may have felt, while his powerful jaw clenched with each word, shaded only by the finely trimmed beard that joined with a small moustache above his curling lip.
‘What you are about to see is not to go beyond this camp.’
The man he spoke to was half a step behind and known as Lieutenant-General Liet Revarn of Xosuh. He was a thinner, lesser man than Alkon, who wore his sandy blonde hair short, and his slim-framed glasses low on his nose. His appearance lacked the authority he held. It had been through his bravery and sharp wit amidst the heat of battle that he had been able to earn the respect of his superiors and men alike. Had it not been for Alkon’s brilliance in strategy, Liet would have been the man in charge, and although resenting this slightly, he was in quiet awe of the general.
‘As you wish, General,’ Liet’s tone was cold and logical, as if more machine than man, ‘but what is it that you have to show me?’
‘A project. It has been held in secrecy. Only the scientists and I know of its making.’
Liet was thoughtful. ‘You have withheld information from our Council?’
Alkon did not turn to face him. ‘When you see what I have to show you, you will understand.’
The two walked out of range of the Callibrai toward where some single-level, dark green buildings had already been constructed. Unarmed soldiers continued to work, coming to attention only momentarily as their commanders walked by them.
‘We must lay siege upon Waikor in three weeks,’ said Alkon as they reached the second door of three buildings. ‘These mountains are to be mined. Be sure we are ready.’
‘It will be done, General,’ said Liet.
Alkon then pressed a button on an intercom. ‘This is General Zaccarah,’ he said, and at once the door opened, the electronic mechanism unlocked. He put one foot inside before turning to Liet, ‘Your word.’
Liet bowed a little, ‘None shall hear of this.’
Satisfied, Alkon entered the building with Liet close behind him. Over the years, the Alliance had perfected the creation of new military bases, able to construct them almost entirely within a matter of days. These were temporary placements, thick metal walls, ceilings and floors and nothing more, held steady by claw-like clamps that dug deep into the ground outside. They would use these dwelling
s for as long as they remained, and then they would take them down again to be used at their next location. It was the way of the unit always on the move. The method of conquering the world was to do it as quickly and efficiently as possible, often leaving behind either complete destruction, or a small post using what buildings there already were in the nation. Those of Callibra had been deemed unsuitable and were demolished, leaving these temporary structures as the only buildings standing in the valley. If they were to leave anything behind here, it would be a small post of maybe one or two buildings and nothing more.
Alkon and Liet stood idle inside the building as men in white coats roamed around several collapsible gray-top benches in silence, hard at work. They were placing various items and instruments upon each, along with empty canisters and other equipment. This would be the laboratory of the Equan scientists, some of the most highly regarded in their respective fields. It had been with their help that the Alliance had been able to defeat so many of the greater nations. With major strides taken in weaponry, fuels and drugs for slave mind control, the Equai were often treated as the most valuable resource they had.
Alkon had personally requested a team to be assembled and to accompany him, so that research might be conducted in the newly conquered lands. It was only due to his flawless history that the High Council of the Alliance had approved without question. Men of science were often allowed on missions, but none of the importance as the Equai, for fear of crucial information and talents being lost.
Alkon spotted the scientist for whom he had been searching. ‘Ethan,’ he called out.
A man unloading a crate turned to face him. His hair was long and dark like Alkon’s, but tightly tied back away from his face. His expression was uneasy, the skin on his high cheekbones drawn back slightly and his eyes almost in a glare, as if he had just encountered an unnecessary and aggravating disturbance. His lips and cleanly shaven jaw were at ease, composed delicately as if only to contradict the apparent madness behind his eyes.