by Ivan Kal
“Who can know the truth?” Anthony said. “The Val’ayash are, after all, religious fanatics. We cannot hope to understand the way they think.” With that, Anthony left the room, leaving the two emissaries alone.
***
The two emissaries stayed inside the room for a while in complete silence, until eventually Gork, the Zhal emissary, retrieved a device from his pocket and put it on the table, turning it on. “We won’t be overheard now.”
“This…” Jahija hesitated. “This is the exact thing we warned you about. The humans are dangerous.”
“We knew that from the moment we met them,” Zhal said. “But your fear of everything not Qash’vo’tar blinds you to the opportunities that implies. We need them, and they know it.”
“They are hiding something,” Jahija said. “They cannot be trusted.”
“We have no choice, and better to keep a close eye on them. This way we will learn their secrets quicker, and be in a position to guide them on the right path. You tried it the Qash’vo’tar way—now it is our turn,” Gork told her.
Jahija grimaced, but eventually she faltered. “Fine. But if you create another Val’ayash,” she warned, “the deaths are on your heads.”
***
Grimm walked into the office of Councilor Isabella Rodriguez three months after Earth had been liberated. He walked over to a chair in front of her desk and sat down without being asked to do so. Then he released a long breath.
“You did well,” Isabella told him.
“Barely,” Grimm said. “I almost destroyed everything. The Dragons…”
“I read your report. So they know everything?” she asked with just a touch of fear in her tone.
“They do,” Grimm confirmed. “I think they are weighing us, seeing if we are worthy.”
“And if they decide that we are not?” Isabella asked.
“Then they do what we trained them to do: break us and build us up again.”
“What do you think they will choose?”
Grimm frowned. “I don’t really know, but for now they are following our lead. I’ll chalk that up as a plus.”
Isabella shook her head. “We still have problems. The Qash’vo’tar and the Zhal have agreed to our proposals, or at least their emissaries have. We are going to have to wait to hear from their governments.”
“They’ll try to hamper us regardless,” Grimm said sadly. He knew how the game was played.
“True, but now we have the Dragons, we have the Fury, and Senka. We have cards to play as well.”
“I don’t know if it will be enough.”
Isabella nodded. “That’s why we need to make other allies.”
Grimm looked at her, surprised. “Other allies? Like who?”
“The Prometheus has made good relations with a powerful man on the outskirts of colonized space, on a planet named Illos. I was planning on sending you there to secure a more…profitable relationship between our worlds.”
Grimm nodded—he had read the file. “That is a good step forward, but it will not be enough.”
“I know, which is why we are looking in another direction as well.”
“Oh?”
“Beyond the portal,” Isabella said with a knowing smile.
***
Kane walked into the office of Admiral Leon Villanueva in the command building on Ethorria’s base. He had spent the last few months here, helping in the rebuilding. Having his mech-frame relegated to a construction machine hadn’t really been exciting, but he knew that he could help, and so he had. The Admiral had retaken his old post about a month ago, having been sent here by the council to speak with the Elvarr mage Vilariarin Varseer.
Kane had no idea what they were talking about, but he knew that for the first time ever an Elvarr faction had contacted human leadership for a discussion.
As Kane arrived at the Admiral’s office, his secretary announced him and let him in.
Once inside, Kane saluted the Admiral, who gave him a smile and a nod in return.
“Come in, Captain, sit down.”
Kane did as was asked and took as seat, wondering why he was here.
“Well, Captain, I am happy to inform you that your construction duty is coming to an end,” the Admiral said.
“Sir?” Kane asked, feeling relieved, thinking that he would finally be sent back to Earth.
“I have a mission for you,” Admiral said slowly. “It has to do with the Elvarr. We’ve been contacted by the Magical Academy of Deravi. They are in need, and we have agreed to give them aid.”
“What kind of aid?” Kane asked slowly.
“I am sending you as a leader of a small party: you and two dozen soldiers along with a scientific team, as well as the four Dragons still on base. You will accompany Master Vilariarin Varseer to their academy and provide them with any help they need. You will also serve as part of a diplomatic mission we are sending to establish better relations between us and the Academy.”
Kane was stumped for a moment, but then he slowly nodded. He was disappointed that he wasn’t going back to Earth, but the prospect of exploring Ethorria? That was no problem at all; he had always wanted to see what wonders this magical universe truly held. And going to a magical academy? Well, this was exactly what he had been waiting for.
“Of course, sir. I won’t let you down.”
EPILOGUE
The stranger, now known by the name Oxylus, arrived in a wide room as he stepped through a tear in space and between two universes. He walked in to the room and took a deep breath. This was his home, and he hadn’t visited in a long while. He walked over to one of the walls as the lights turned on and a voice spoke over the speakers.
“You are back,” a woman’s voice said. “Did you find them?”
“Not yet,” Oxylus said. “But soon.”
“And?”
“I’m going after them,” Oxylus said as the wall he was standing in front of turned translucent, showing the stars. Looming close to the station he was on was a massive spaceship.
“Are you sure that that is wise?” the voice said, and a moment later a woman appeared next to him. Her hair looked as if it were made of fire, waving around even when there was no wind.
“I owe them,” Oxylus said simply.
“They are stronger than you,” the woman said. “Much stronger.”
“I am not the same as I was the last time we clashed,” Oxylus told her. “And I will not attack them in the same way.”
“Do you really want to provoke them again? You know what they did last time.”
Oxylus turned to look at the woman. “It is because of what they did that I need to do this.”
The woman opened her mouth to speak, but they were interrupted by a tear opening up in space and an alien woman stepping through. Her dark-green skin looked radiant and her long curved white horns pulsed with power. Her three eyes landed on Oxylus, and she frowned. “Finally—it took me ages to find you!”
Oxylus released the power he had been gathering and glared at her. “I am not in the mood, Hestia. Go away.”
“Well, how rude.” She took a step closer, then stopped and turned her eyes to the woman standing next to him. “Oh, I see you still haven’t gotten rid of this thing.”
The woman with fire for hair bristled at that. “And I see that I need to upgrade the security measures of this facility. We seem to have a slight vermin problem.”
Hestia frowned. “You dare speak to me that way, machine?” Hestia said insultingly.
Oxylus stepped forward, forestalling any confrontation. “What do you want, Hestia?”
The Titan turned to look back at him. “I’ve come to speak with you, of course.”
“Then speak, don’t waste time. I have things to do.”
Hestia pouted for a moment, but then she spoke. “I’ve heard that you had an interaction with Boluvar.”
Oxylus looked at her blankly. “I have no idea who that is.”
Hestia looked at him with exasp
eration in her eyes. “The Titan on Ethorria. The one you so rudely assaulted.”
“Ah, that jackass. What about him?”
“Well he has been going around, speaking with the other Titans. The others don’t care about what happens outside of their universes most of the time, but Boluvar is filling their heads with talks about how you are a threat. It would be good if you came with me to speak with some of the others, allay some of their fears,” Hestia said slowly.
Oxylus shook his head. “I told you before, I don’t care about your little club. I don’t care about your rules, and I most certainly don’t care what that idiot is telling the others. I was clear: I will not join you Titans.”
Hestia pouted. “Don’t be unreasonable! You are strong, yes, but you are young. You don’t understand half of the things that exist out there! Please, let me help you. Just come with me, Heart o—”
Oxylus raised his arm, making her stop mid-sentence. “First, I recall telling you to never call me by that name again—only those I respect have that honor. Second, I have given you my answer. I will not join you, ever. Third, I understand far more than you think I do. If any of you have a problem with me, I am sure that you can find me—indeed, that much is obvious,” he remarked dryly. “And I will explain to you whatever you want to know…by words, or by force.”
Hestia shook her head. “You are so arrogant.”
“The weak often confuse confidence for arrogance in those more powerful than themselves.”
Hestia looked at him for a moment with a blank expression on her face. “Fine. Have it your way—but when the time comes and you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She turned around and stepped back through the tear in space, and a moment later she was gone.
The woman with the fire for hair floated forward, then looked him in the eyes. “You shouldn’t antagonize her so much.”
“This comes from you, who calls her vermin?”
The woman harrumphed. “I don’t like her, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t make problems for you.”
“She won’t. She is too blinded by her desire for power. She only wishes to study me and discover how I am stronger than her.”
“If you say so,” the woman said.
Oxylus walked over to the window and looked back out into space, before his eyes landed on the massive ship just in front of the station. He calmed himself for a few moments, then threw his mind across the distance to the ship and spoke.
“Wake up. It is time.”
A few moments later he heard a deep rumble in his mind as he got a response.
“REVENGE?”
“Yes,” Oxylus answered simply.
Thank you for reading!
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Tower of Power Book 1 – Guild Master and Eternal Path Book 1 – Eternal Soul
Tower of Power Book 1 – Guild Master
CHAPTER ONE
Morgan Newton looked around in confusion, not really understanding what had happened. One moment he was crossing the street on his way to class at the community college, and the next thing he remembered was being here, wherever here was. Looking around, he noticed that he appeared to be in some kind of a cave, or a tunnel of sorts. The walls around him were gray and made out of a smoky, mist-like substance. He reached out with his hand to touch one of the walls and his fingers sank into it just a bit before encountering a solid wall. The mist curled around his hand and he jerked it away, feeling a coldness that cut to the bone. Morgan looked around again. Behind him there was only darkness, and somehow he could tell that the darkness was a wall, one that he couldn’t pass through. In front of him, however, stretched a tunnel, and out in the distance he could see a bright light.
Morgan covered his face with his hands and shook his head as he remembered what had happened. He had been on his way to class, hurrying along and thinking about the raid he had scheduled with his guild in the MMORPG The Braves that very night. The Guild was attempting its seventh run against the latest expansion’s last raid boss, hoping to finally take him down after almost three months of trying. They were a semi-hardcore guild, but a core of the guild was a group of pretty intense players set on getting every boss before the next raid came out. He had been running the strategy they devised for the boss through his head all week. It was probably why he had been so absent minded, and why he hadn’t seen the red pickup truck until it was too late.
“Crap, I’m dead, aren’t I? My guild mates are going to kill me,” Morgan said out loud, and immediately chuckled at his own expense. It wasn’t like he could be any deader, but it did tell a lot about him that the first thing that popped into his head as he realized that he was dead was concern for his guild. The Braves had been a large part of his life; all of his friends played it, and he spent almost all of his free time on the computer playing it as well.
Tanya. He suddenly remembered the hot brunette from his world history class and that he had made plans with her for tomorrow evening. God damn it, Morgan cursed inwardly. The two of them weren’t precisely dating but they were getting there. Plenty a man had tried to get sweet Tanya to call them their boyfriend, and he was fairly certain that he would be one of the few to have that privilege. I bet that Hank will jump in before my body even gets cold. He shook his head. The two of them had been vying for her attentions for the better part of the semester. And seeing as he hated that jackass, Morgan had been really looking forward to rubbing his victory in Hank’s face. It was ironic in a way that he had ended up dead because he had been too consumed with a video game just as he was about to get somewhere with a girl. Not that he hadn’t had any girlfriends before, but Tanya… Well, it didn’t matter now anyway. His mom had always told him that he should stop staring in that damned monitor so much.
“Fuck me sideways,” he breathed out. It figured that he should die on the day of his twenty-second birthday.
“Sorry, I don’t do requests.”
Morgan jumped at the unexpected voice. A small and completely undignified squeak escaped his mouth as he turned around and looked straight into a man leaning on the wall, mist curling away from him, as if it was afraid to touch him. The man chuckled at Morgan’s response.
“Who the fuck are you?” Morgan asked, trying to gather his wits. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but if he hadn’t been dead already, he just might’ve had a heart attack from that.
The man tsked. “That isn’t really a nice way to speak to strangers, now is it? I’m sure that you were raised better than that—but considering the circumstances, I will let it slide. ”
Morgan gulped nervously, which in itself was completely bonkers. I am dead. How in the hell can I still do that? As the man spoke, Morgan had a chance to take a look at him. The man was of an average height, average looks, short hair, with light skin which was perhaps just a bit tanned, but it was hard to tell in this light. He wore strange clothes, unlike anything he had ever seen before; it kind of looked like he was wearing a wetsuit with a long, dark coat over it.
The man clapped his hands and pushed off the wall. “Now, I don’t have a lot of time, so we should really get this started. First, you are dead.”
“Yeah, I kinda figured that one out already, Sherlock.” Morgan cringed inwardly as he realized what he had said. He could’ve kicked himself for being so stupid. God, I really can’t keep my mouth shut sometimes.
“Har, har, har. A wiseass. Of course you had to be a wiseass.” The man rolled his eyes and stepped closer. Morgan fought the instinct to take a step back and instead stayed his ground, trying to project the image of calm confidence as his sensei always told him to do if he ever got cornered w
ith no way out. Not that Morgan thought that it was going to do him any good; one look into the man’s eyes told him that he knew everything there was to know about Morgan. There was a weight behind that gaze, an eternity.
“Where are we?” Morgan asked.
“Think of this as a place between life and death,” the man told him.
“Wait, if I am in between, can I go back?” Morgan asked hurriedly.
“Not a chance. Well… Okay, that isn’t really true. It is possible for a soul to go back, but not for you.” The man shrugged, almost as if he was saying sorry.
“What do you mean not possible for me?” Morgan took a step back. This guy is going to eat my soul for sure. Morgan tried to look around to find a way to escape, but the only path available to him was toward the light, and he wasn’t just yet prepared to go there.
“Oh, don’t be such a wimp. I’m not the reason you can’t go back to your old life. That is your fault. You lack the knowledge and power.”
“Well, I’ve never heard any credible story of someone coming back to life. Forgive me for not going out of my way to learn how to raise myself from the dead,” Morgan said—and then a thought came to his mind. “Wait, who are you? Are you God?” Morgan asked in a whisper.
The man tilted his head, seemingly amused. “Sure, from your point of view I might as well be God.”
One look at that grin and another thought occurred to Morgan. “Oh my god, you are the devil, aren’t you? I knew that I shouldn’t have stolen that piece of bubblegum when I was kid, but Marcus kept pressuring me. Please, it’s not my fault! He made me do it!” Morgan said as he took a step back, his eyes opened wide.
The man rolled his eyes. “I’m not the devil! Seriously, man, get a hold of yourself.”
Morgan straightened his posture and tried to compose himself by straightening his clothes. “Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool… So you are God, then? Or an angel or something?” Morgan asked, relieved—he really didn’t want to go to hell. He knew that he would just hate the heat.