Zordjin ran a thumb over the beautiful patterns emblazoned on the metal. He had never seen craftsmanship so fine. “You would give this to me?”
Tordan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “What are brothers for?”
“I don’t know,” Zordjin said honestly. “I’ve never had a brother before.”
Tordan helped him slide an arm into the suit. “Well, I guess we’re both going to find out.”
As each piece was secured into place, Tordan explained what it did, its benefits, and its limitations. When Zordjin was fully armored, Tordan donned his own exoarmor while Roihan strode to a black screen on the wall, pressing a button. It turned on, and the letters across the top read: ZORDAN.
“My name is Zordjin.”
“Yes,” Roihan acknowledged. “But every cyborg has an -AN designation at the end, so we all ended up with an Ardak version of our names. I chose to keep mine, as did the rest of us. I guess it reminds us that our lives will never be the same as they were before the invasion.”
He looked at the name again. Zordan. It was not his name . . . but he liked it. It had power.
A new name for a new male.
“I will take this name. From now on, I will be called Zordan.”
Tordan had joined them, and his eyes shone with approval. “As you wish, Zordan.”
“You know, in all of my two hundred and thirty-five years, I have never seen anything like this place,” Zordan said quietly. “Never thought that there would be others like me.”
“Or anything as beautiful as the elves, I’ll bet.” Tordan smiled knowingly. “They have a way of getting your attention.”
A vision of Lielle flashed through his mind, and for a moment, he wondered. But then he shook his head. “Do not even speak of it.”
Tordan looked taken aback. “Why not?”
“When I first saw her, I thought she was like other women. To my shame, I even tried to…seduce her. But whether she is from the higher elven realm or not, she is not for the likes of me. She wears no armor, knows nothing of war. And a warrior is all I am.” It was all he would ever be. “In war, it’s always the purest souls who suffer most. Either they die first because they know not how to fight, or they are slowly crushed by the horrors of war. In truth, I don’t know which is worse.”
Tordan's eyes, so like his own, searched his face. “You might be surprised by the elves and their tenacity. She’s been Aurora’s watcher—that means she’s seen her share of war. And she was brave enough to come back into mortal form, to make sure you found me.”
Zordan rubbed his forehead, almost wishing he had a headache to soothe. It would have been comfortingly human. Or if not human, at least comfortingly not cyborg. “I’ve seen females like her subjected to battle. Their spirits do not survive. And I don’t want to be responsible for the death of hers. If I still believed in a god, I would pray. . .” He swallowed. “I would pray for her to be gone before these Ardaks arrive. That she goes back to wherever she’s from with the purity still in her eyes. That she never sees me fight them.”
Tordan clapped him on the shoulder. “Yep, you like her. I get it. All of us feel that way about our mates. We want to protect them, to force them to flee to safety while we fight. But I think you’ll find that Lielle has something to say about that. One thing I know about elves and elven prophecies or visions is that they always choose those who are up to the task, even if they don’t believe it themselves. And of all the elves they could have sent, they sent her.”
Zordan shook his head. It was obvious his twin was completely under his mate’s spell, but that did not mean he had to fall to the same fate. “How soon do you believe the Ardaks will attack?” he asked, redirecting the conversation.
“We believe it will be about ten days, give or take a few,” Mordjan answered as he joined them.
Zordan looked over to see Tristin wave with one hand as he opened the door for Kirelle with the other. He nodded. "Fine. First I'll tour Renwyn today, then I'll visit Garthurian on the morrow so we can discuss defensive positions. At each location, I'll need precise numbers of each type of warrior. I'll need to see each type of warrior in full uniform with weapons, then in mock battle. I'll need a list of weapons at the ready, and weapons we can make before battle. I'll also need a list of civilians who can provide assistance. And last, I'll need to see the possible routes of retreat."
Mordjan nodded, then switched to the frequency. "We’re going to go over to Renwyn today, and Garthurian tomorrow. Simban, can you tell the cyborgs to gather near the ships, then meet Aefin and get those numbers on elves and types of magic? Tell him we’ll meet them this afternoon in the grove—and to be ready to spar. Durstin, we'll see you tomorrow up at Garthurian. Valdjan, we’ll let you know when Zordan is coming to the Crystal Cave."
Tordan turned to Mordjan. “I need to check a few things here, so why don’t you go ahead and show Zordan the ships?”
“I can do that. We’ll see you later.”
After Mordjan and Zordan parted ways with Tordan, Mordjan gestured to a set of double doors that sat majestically at the far side of the expansive circular space. “Those doors lead to the throne room, a place so magical that many cyborgs had only to enter it for their memories to be restored after they were taken by the Ardaks.”
“Why didn’t they have their memories?”
Mordjan paused. “When the Ardaks created us, they didn’t want us to remember who we were. We were easier to control if we had no past. The memory blocking technology they used didn’t work on a few of us, myself included, but most people forgot who they were. Including Tordan.”
Zordan whistled. “Truly?”
“Truly. But the magic of the throne room healed them, brought the memories back.” Mordjan turned away from the doors and led him toward what had to be the main entrance to the palace. He cleared his throat. "At Renwyn, we have about four hundred elves and six hundred and twelve cyborgs. Eighty-eight cyborgs are originally from Aurora, and only ten of us are upgraded, which means we have improved batteries and armor. The rest Tristan rescued from an Ardak base. He also brought back three hundred and seventy-three spaceships.”
Zordan whistled through his teeth. “That’s a great number of ships and cyborgs to remove from the Ardaks’ possession. It’s no wonder they are headed this way in such force.”
“Oh, I’m sure it didn’t help our case, but the Ardaks were coming back anyway.”
"Do you know what it is they are searching for?”
“They are searching for a cache of crystals, and unfortunately, we can’t give the crystals to them. It’s too dangerous. The Ardaks are particularly bloodthirsty. They tend to wipe out all the beings on the planets they conquer, either through war or with a red poison in the air. If we gave them the crystals, their technology is such that they would be able to take over the universe.”
As they exited the palace, Zordan took a moment to look behind him. He eyed the great walls and wide windows with skepticism. “Palace” was an apt description since it could hardly be called a castle. He never would have put windows on the lower levels, nor windows that wide. The roof did not have arrow slits for archers or spaces for cannons. How they would defend it was anyone's guess.
Mordjan took the steps two at a time and headed for a path through a forest ahead. The trees were tall, much taller than in Vidora. There were also plants and flowers he had never seen before, and when he switched his vision to infrared, some of them even glowed.
Zordan shook his head. So much beauty, and so little time to enjoy it. He hoped all of it would still remain after the war; although, he doubted it. If the Ardaks were as fierce as they claimed, there would probably be naught left of this place when it was over.
When they broke through the trees on the other side, the land before them was dotted with great metal birds. Zordan inhaled sharply at their enormity and sleek beauty.
Tristin grinned. "Do you like our spaceships?"
"They are incredible. Like great meta
l birds."
Mordjan gestured to Tristin, who was standing with a group of men to their left. "You can thank the big male over there."
Zordan closed the distance to the nearest one and ran his hand over the smooth surface. "Can they . . . fly?"
Mordjan chuckled. "They can do a lot more than that. In a bit, we'll take a few into the air and show you what they can do." Mordjan gestured to the right, where cyborgs were emerging from the trees and joining formation. Some of them were much larger than the others, and as they neared, he saw that they were the cyborgs with the upgraded exoarmor.
The cyborgs formed two rows of six blocks. Zordan counted the first and found that each of the twelve blocks in the was ten males long by five rows wide, which made six hundred cyborgs. The cyborgs with exoarmor formed a line at the rear that spanned all the blocks.
Four extra exoarmor suits were placed neatly at the end, but he didn’t know who they were for.
Zordan walked up the first row, viewing their armor and weapons.
"Most cyborgs in these first two blocks are from Aurora," Mordjan explained, "the other blocks are from the moon base. The elves are making armor for them as quickly as they can, but it takes a full day to fit a cyborg with exoarmor, so it isn’t a quick process."
Zordan nodded and stepped forward to the first block of cyborgs. They had light metal armor with engravings, which he was coming to recognize as elven, and were armed with a double set of swords. The next block of cyborgs had leather and metal armor, rather similar to the human armor, and also carried double swords. Unlike the first group, these cyborgs had belts with other weapons like knives and axes that were small enough to wield with one hand but looked deadly.
After the first two blocks, the cyborgs changed in nature. They were about half a head shorter as a rule, with lighter hair and fairer skin. However, they were stockier than the Auroran cyborgs, built for power rather than speed. He stepped up to the first male in the first row of the block. "What is your name?"
"Kidric, sir."
"And what planet are you from originally?"
"We're all from Tollara," answered the cyborg.
"And did you fight wars there?" Zordan asked.
"Yes, sir. But only about half of us were in the military. The rest of us did other things for work. We're learning quickly, however." The male smiled as he spoke the last.
Zordan didn't reprimand him for smiling as he would have one of his own warriors. The Tollarans would need discipline, but he was willing to put the effort in if they were willing to learn.
Zordan fell silent as he perused the warriors. They were about to go to war, and while they seemed eager, most of the cyborgs hadn't been trained as warriors, so going head-to-head would be unwise.
From what he’d seen of the landscape so far, it didn’t look promising either. The swath of trees they’d passed through to get here was too small to offer many places of ambush, and the palace was too exposed and not built for defensive purposes.
He would have to try, for all their sakes. He took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back. "All right, warriors. Form circles around your blocks, and begin sparring in the center. Show us your best techniques when we come by. Point out your best fighters, or your best at other things. Tell us your best strategies to use against the enemy. Hidden forces, flanking maneuvers, possibilities you've seen with the cyborg exoarmor. We need to build resources and strategies, so now is not the time to hold back. You never know, it is possible that ideas you have now could help us win this war."
Chapter Fourteen
Lielle
“G
eeeroo!" Aielle called, her eyes searching the enormous tree house. She beckoned Lielle to follow her as she ascended a tall, spiral staircase that wrapped around the trunk of the tree that was the foundation of the structure. The second floor branched out into a spacious dwelling, with a fountain at the center next to the tree trunk.
A tiny amount of water jumped out of the fountain and hovered in the air, seeming to gesture for them to follow it. So they did, and as they rounded the trunk of the tree, the water came to a door. It squeezed through the crack, leaving the two elves to enter the home the old-fashioned way.
As Lielle reached out a hand to open the door, it opened from the inside, and Geeeroo appeared. The lines in his face were more deeply etched than Lielle had ever seen them in her visions, and his white hair, which usually sprouted from his head in all directions, was plastered down.
"Lovely queen, Aielle—" he bowed his head briefly. "I apologize that I couldn't meet you in the front. The spirit is willing. . .but the body wasn't quite able today." He approached them slowly but steadily, leaning slightly on a cane.
"I didn't realize you had taken ill," Aielle replied as she reached for his hand.
"Not ill, Majesty. Simply old. And tired." He clasped her hand and closed his eyes for a moment.
When his eyes popped open again, his pupils seemed to have more focus and he was tilting his attention to Lielle. "Spirit-Seer, I never thought to see you . . . in this world. Something must be dreadfully wrong."
"Something is dreadfully wrong. The high queen of all elves sent me down here on a mission and I need your help. I was quite young when I passed to the other side. I need to know how to call my visions and channel my magic."
"Then we have no time to lose." Geeeroo limped over to the fountain at the center of his dwelling. He shoved his hands into the water, then bent and drank deeply. When he turned back to them, his golden eyes glowed with renewed fire. "That should give me a little boost.” He gave her a warning glance. "I will teach you what I can. I can't exert my powers, however. Any large surge could push this body too far."
"The visions are the most important," Lielle replied. "If you could just tell me how to make them happen, I could communicate with the other side."
Geeeroo grabbed several cushions from a pile, passed one to each female elf, and then gestured for them to sit with him. "It isn’t easy to open communication from this side. It takes a lot of power, and that can be hard on this mortal form. But it will be good for both of you to learn this skill. Now, close your eyes and breathe deeply. Feel your mortal form relax, and reach for a higher plane of being . . ."
Chapter Fifteen
Zordan
As he watched the cyborgs spar, it was obvious that many of them were not well trained. The stances were ungainly, the swords awkward in their hands. “Perhaps we should go back to the basics,” he suggested. “Stance, timing, distance, various swings.”
"We have training programs that will allow them to fight more efficiently," Roihan said. "But only three cyborgs can use them at a time so we've been training about thirty per day."
Zordan eyed the ships, then the cyborgs. "How many does it take to fly the ships normally?"
"Two to three cyborgs, depending upon their design."
"Can others fly them, besides cyborgs?"
Mordjan paused. "Yes. But it would take at least five per ship."
"Could they be taught in ten days?"
Mordjan winced. "Maybe."
"I could teach them," Tristin answered. "I used to teach our youth back home."
"Great. Cyborgs with suits can kill twenty Ardaks at once with their lasers, whereas those without suits will be fighting one Ardak at a time. Let's make sure the cyborgs with armor get the computer training and sparring practice so they can use the suits effectively. They will remain on the ground. Those without any armor will fly. We'll recruit other civilians and teach them to fly as well. Where could we find them?"
"We have civilians from the Mountain Realm who now live at Renwyn since we combined our two forces. And the other large lot of civilians from the River Realm would be at Garthurian. I will ask Durstin to recruit them when we’re finished.”
"Good," Zordan continued. "Have everyone spread the word. Send us everyone who has sixteen summers or more, the able-bodied elderly, and women who wish to fight. Tell them that flight training will
begin this afternoon right here."
His eyes focused on Tristin. "When you do the training, try to keep it to one cyborg per ship. And do not put any family members together. If one gets injured, the others will focus on helping that one rather than flying their craft to safety."
“Agreed,” Tristin said as he dipped his chin in respect.
With that settled, they went back to evaluating the warriors sparring. They were excellent at pointing out their own strengths and weaknesses. Mordjan, Roihan, and Tristin would also get involved to demonstrate a technique or show how they could use the powers of their chips to enhance their speed or accuracy.
In the second block, they encountered a male who had been one of the leaders in the Tollaran army. "One of the techniques we used on Tollara was to divide the enemy. Rather than facing them head-on, we would send our best troops down the center and divide their army in two, exploiting the gap to surround them. The cyborgs with the upgraded suits could divide the enemy in half, then in quarters, and let us surround them."
Zordan clapped the man on the shoulder. "That is an excellent idea. If you have others, come and find me."
The cyborg's chin rose with pride. "I will."
The tour took longer than he expected, especially when the cyborgs began demonstrating the exoarmor. Zordan almost didn’t believe it when he saw Tristan seemingly disappear.
Zordan stepped back in surprise, and Tristin reappeared in front of him, so close their noses were almost touching. "Boo."
"How did you do that?" Zordan asked.
"It has something to do with the rate of vibration in his armor," Roihan answered from beside him. "Aria has been working on it in her free time, but his is the only suit with the capability."
“Why? That’s probably the most useful thing I’ve seen the suits do.”
“We’ve been busy trying, Zordan, to find a way to block the Ardak signal so they can't take over the cyborgs' minds when they land."
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