by Corin Cain
Dungeon. It must be underground.
Suddenly figuring out where to go, I rush down the stairs. A woman screams as I hurtle pass her, dropping a tray of crystal glass that shatters against the floor.
I hear footsteps and guards lurch from around the corner, trying to grab me. I dodge their clawing hands and run down another flight of stairs, listening to the thunder of their boots as the guards pursue me.
At the bottom of the stairs there’s a closed door which I kick open cleanly, not knowing where it leads.
I see a long row of jail cells on the other side of it, and my heart starts. This must be the dungeon!
I’ve disturbed another contingent of guards. The soldiers guarding the dungeon are barely twenty years old, and they look at me in horror when they spot the humming, otherworldly black blade of the Orb-Dagger clutched in my hand.
I run past them before they can react – scanning the jail cells as I hurtle down the hallway.
I pass row upon row of human prisoners, and for a moment I’m worried this is the wrong cell block – that I won’t find the Aurelians here…
…and then I spot them, each locked in their own cell at the end of the hallway.
I run to the first cell and press the dagger’s Orb-Blade against the bars.
I didn’t have to press. The Orb-Blade cuts through the bars like they’re tissue paper, and instantly the thick metal clatters to the flagstones beneath my feet.
I rush into the cell and use the Orb-Dagger to shear apart Forn’s cuffed hands. He instantly grabs the dagger from my hands and leaps through the broken doorway – towards the guards who are thundering down the hallway in pursuit.
The guards instantly drop their guns when they see Forn bearing down on them – turning tail and fleeing for their lives.
Fear grips me too, as I imagine Forn charging after them; into the gun barrels of a hundred more soldiers stationed upstairs.
Mercifully, Forn is smarter than that. He lets the soldiers flee, and then my blood runs cold as I hear a volley of shots ring out from the stairwell behind the dungeon door.
I can’t believe it! The rest of the guards had expected Forn and the other Aurelians to come running up the stairs, and so had lain in wait for them with guns aimed…
Instead, it was the fleeing guards who’d run into their gunsights.
Before the soldiers had realized their mistake, they’d already squeezed the triggers – and executed the prison guards instead.
As for us – the guards had escaped without their weapons, which now lie on the ground all around us.
As I stand there, Forn carves open the doors to two other cells and frees his blood-brothers. As Darok and Hadone come staggering out of their cells, they glance down at the pistols with distaste. Nevertheless, they scoop them up – before staring at the weapons as if they don’t understand how they work.
What? You’ve never seen a pistol before?
I remember how Forn didn’t even flinch when Edgar, may his soul rest in peace, pointed a rifle at his chest and fired. Somehow, these Aurelians don’t seem to have a grasp on even the most basic modern technology.
Where the hell did they even come from?
That thought is useless. Right now, we have to concentrate on getting out of here, and then we have to get the orphans to come with us before it’s too late. I can’t leave them here, not with the Viceroy knowing about my betrayal. He’ll barter them away to families who want to pretend they are socially conscious, but will only be using the four children as political tools.
While the Aurelians might not know how to use guns, I do – and I reach for one of the two pistols.
Hadone is holding it in a tight grip. I point to the trigger, and he moves his finger to curl around it. As he does so, I place my hand over his and guide the end of the weapon towards the opposite side of the room. Together, we squeeze the trigger.
Blam!
My ears ring from the echo of the gunshot in the tight dungeon. A hole explodes in the back wall of the room, where the guards had sat just minutes earlier.
These weapons are infinitely more powerful than Edgar’s handmade rifle. This pistol has hewn a chunk out of the wall as big as my fist.
This is no fancy Orb-weapon – but it’s certainly effective. The Capital is more affluent than the periphery states, but they still use combustible sources, just like we used to for millennium back on Old Earth.
We hear the thump of booted feet echoing down the stairway, and so I grab Hadone’s hand, pulling him the other way. The other prisoners call out to be freed. They are a ragtag lot – blinking groggily – but I have no idea if the crimes they’re locked up for are real, or just manufactured transgressions like those which led to the Aurelians being imprisoned.
“Wait!” A voice rings out as we rush towards the rear entrance. I turn, and find a young woman begging through the bars of her cell. She’s my age – barely in her twenties – and unlike the other prisoners, crammed together in their cells and dressed in threadbare clothes that are covered in dirt, this woman has a cell to herself.
Even stranger, she wears a beautiful blue dress that hugs her body, and around her neck is a circlet of diamonds and precious jewels.
“Who are you?” I say brusquely, looking over my shoulder to see if a new wave of less-cowardly guards are closing in.
Darok sees me talking to the woman, and barricades the doors shut behind us.
“I’m Diana Pooler, of the Pooler family,” the woman says, her voice haughty. The moment I stopped to listen to her, her voice lost all desperation. I can tell she’s long-practiced the art of public speaking for the royal courts.
I’ve heard of the Pooler family before. They’re one of the only true rivals to the Aeron dynasty. From what I’ve heard, the Pooler family is just as adamantly anti-Aurelian as Lord Aeron is.
Forn walks to the bars to get a better look at her, and Diana’s haughty veneer instantly crumbles. She takes a step back from the bars, trembling.
“P-please – the Viceroy took me from my estate because my father was opposed to a disastrous trade deal. Lord Aeron wants only to enrich his own coffers at the expense of the people. He’s worse than an…”
Diana trails off, and I realize she was going to finish the sentence with: “…worse than an Aurelian.”
She looks nervously over at Forn, and I realize that the word Aurelian is used as liberally as a curse word here in the Capital.
Footsteps clunk down the stairs and something slams against the barricaded door. Hadone and Darok hold it against the onslaught, but if the guards have a ram, it will be breached within minutes.
I turn back to Diana. If I’m to believe this woman, then I have to act – and act quickly.
I motion to Forn and he uses his Orb-Dagger to effortlessly destroy the lock, shearing straight through the heavy steel.
There’s no time for gratitude. Diana opens the door and together we rush through the rear exit of the dungeon.
Behind us, Hadone and Darok leave the door, and it bursts open as we sprint away. As we run, we have to ignore the pleading cries from the other prisoners, and my heart breaks as I wonder how many are as innocent as we were.
Gunshots ring out behind us, and my heart pounds as we rush out of the dungeon.
From the bullets whizzing past us, I gather that the guards aren’t trying to take us alive. They’ve been ordered to stop us by any means necessary.
We round the corner, and for a moment I think we’re dead. More guards await us ahead.
Then, suddenly, Diana shrieks – and my heart stops.
Is she hit? Wounded? Dying?
I look to see where she might have taken a bullet – but instead Diana jumps into the middle of the hallway, putting herself between us and the guards.
“Stop shooting, you fools,” the captain of the guard raises his hands. “You’ll kill Lady Pooler!”
Instantly the gunshots stop. Hadone leaps in the air and with a thunderous kick knocks
out a doorway to the right of us.. A row of stairs welcomes us on the other side, with the unspoken promise of freedom at the top of them.
Together, we rush up them and burst through the doorway at the top.
The Aurelians and I emerge into the sunlight.
There’s no time to catch my breath. I cover my eyes from the now-blinding sunlight, and realize that we’re in the courtyard visible from Lord Aeron’s bedchamber.
The orphans are playing together in the grass. Stacy yells out as soon as she spots us – pointing frantically in our direction.
“We have to run!” I yell out, and Stacy rushes towards us with Tod and Tyler following along behind. Runner takes one look at us and runs in the opposite direction.
I swallow hard, but I know that chasing after him will be a death sentence. Poor Runner has made his choice; and he won’t be coming with us.
Maybe it’s for the best. Perhaps, under the tutelage of the Viceroy, he’ll grow up in a comfortable environment as I’d hoped the other children would…
Only I fear Runner will be raised to become a pawn in the anti-Aurelian movement. Out of all the orphans, he’s the only one who’s proven his loyalty to the Capital; and his misguided beliefs will serve him well.
I force thoughts of Runner from my mind, and start thinking of ourselves.
We might have escaped the dungeon, but we’re still in Lord Aeron’s estate. The huge walls tower over us, sealing us in.
Gardeners shriek as we run past them, sprint away from us like a herd of startled gazelle after being surprised by a lion’s pounce.
Up above us, the mansion’s many parapets are suddenly filled with guards with rifles pointed down at us from all directions.
My heart stops. We have children with us, but somehow I know that the only reason the soldiers aren’t firing at us is Lady Pooler – the royal dignitary we broke out from the dungeon below.
Diana Pooler gives me a tight smile, then opens her mouth as if she’s already the Queen fate one day might make her:
“We need to escape before Lord Aeron brings reinforcements. I know a lightly-guarded gate to the city, although we’ll be drawing attention with these three.”
Diana raises her eyebrows at the three Aurelians – but when the Aurelians turn to look back at her, she can’t keep up the haughty visage. She averts her eyes.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” I snap, perhaps a little too harshly. It annoys me that this noblewoman has joined our group and is already trying to take charge.
I understand that she’s been trained from a young age to be a leader, especially in these kinds of situations, but she still came out of nowhere and is now trying to tell us what to do. She isn’t the one who made it out of Barl against all odds. She isn’t the one who broke the Aurelians out of jail, or knows how to keep us all safe.
“Let’s go!” Stacy cries out as footsteps pound up the stairs behind us. We take off at a run, but the three Aurelians are clearly not satisfied by our pace.
Forn suddenly scoops up both Diana and I. She screams out, and I look over at her while we bounce up and down in forn’s massive arms.
I’m already used to the way these massive aliens manhandle us, but I suppose it’s a fresh humiliation for a woman of noble blood.
“How undignified,” Diana mutters under her breath, but she surrenders to it reluctantly.
While our pace is now significantly faster, it unfortunately gives us a great view of the guards behind us, aiming their rifles in our direction.
Then I watch in horror as the Viceroy appears at the parapets overhead.
“Fire, you idiots!” He cries out. “Kill them all!”
I can’t believe that the Viceroy is so callous that he’d endanger not just the life of Lady Pooler, but also the three innocent orphans.
Gunshots ring out and bullets whizz past us as we rush away to safety.
Thundering across the garden, Diana points sharply towards salvation, and the Aurelians run in the direction she indicates.
Hadone is in front, and rushes forward with his shoulder lowered like a piledriver. The thin door Diana promised us shatters into matchsticks as Hadone bulldozes straight through.
Suddenly, we’re out of the estate and out into the beauty of the richest district of the Capital. If this were in any other situation, I’d be admiring the hand-laid cobblestones of the roads and the ornate designs of the bushes that line the streets – perhaps even the beautiful leaves of the trees looming overhead.
But there’s no time for sightseeing. Now, there’s only survival.
“Which way?” Stacy calls out in her shrill voice.
“My house has allies! That way!” Diana points again. The Aurelians can’t speak our language, but they can understand directions when they’re as simple as a pointing finger.
They set off at an incredible pace, and we’re hauled down the street in their arms – Diana and I in Forn’s huge biceps, and the orphans in Darok’s strong grasp.
Fine ladies and gentlemen leap out of our way as we sprint down the street. It must look like the Aurelians have kidnapped us all, and are stealing us away with them.
Diana slaps Forn on the back, and he suddenly stops in his tracks, realizing that she’s trying to communicate, not assault him.
We’re all deposited roughly onto the cobblestones.
Astonishingly, the Aurelians have been running at a full sprint all this time - but they appear barely even winded by the exertion.
Together, we stand in front of a towering townhouse, guarded by a large set of ornate doors.
Diana strides up and beats her tiny fists against the door. The door opens, and a middle-aged woman with a tight bun gives Diana a look of concerned recognition…
…then she take one look at the three Aurelians, and promptly faints.
Hadone rushes forward, grabbing the woman before she can hit the ground, and we all pile in through the open doorway.
I slam the doors shut behind us.
Suddenly, our breathless escape is at a pause.
I pant wildly, staring around the large entrance hall of this beautiful building. It’s a two-story apartment in one of the richest neighborhoods of the Capital – but inside there are no ostentatious decorations like in Lord Aeron’s gaudy manor.
Instead, books are strewn everywhere, along with papers and pen. A winding staircase leads to the second story, where a nobleman with a fine, white beard suddenly appears.
The white-haired stranger doesn’t look the least bit concerned that his house has been invaded by a triad of Aurelians, or that his servant is lying limply in one of the alien’s giant hands. He’s more concerned about our rescued prisoner.
“Diana! By the Gods, I thought the Viceroy had you!”
“I’m safe,” Diana gasps. “Thanks… Thanks to them!”
She gestures towards the three Aurelians, but is still unable to look at the three warriors.
The white-haired old man nods, and stands peering down at us.
I’m astonished. I’d have expected a nobleman of the Capital to be yelling for his guards right now, but instead he looks at the Aurelians with wonder rather than fear or hatred.
Finally, the nobleman strides down the winding steps, leaning his weight on the banister. Hadone sets the unconscious servant down gently on a chair, then steps closer to me. The old man doesn’t look like he’ll pose a threat, but the Aurelian is still taking no chances.
I expect the old man to introduce himself to us, or to speak more with Diana. Instead, he opens his mouth and starts speaking in the same, guttural language as the Aurelians.
I blink. With all the chaos of the day, this manages to be the most surprising thing yet. Even more shocking? Forn talks right back to him!
I’ve never seen anyone as excited as the nobleman. He’s practically jumping up and down with glee at being able to speak to these Aurelians in their strange tongue.
What is going on?
The three Aurelians and the
old man speak rapidly, while the rest of us look on in wonder. I glance over at Diana, and she just shrugs.
“He’s been researching Aurelians for the last forty years,” the noblewoman says, her voice barely a whisper. I look over at the nearest opened book and recognize the anatomy of an Aurelian drawn out on the pages.
Whoever this nobleman is, he’s obsessed with this alien species.
The nobleman stops mid-sentence, then looks over at the orphans and I. Blinking, as if he’s only just noticed us, the white-haired old man murmurs: “How rude of me! Allow me to present myself.”
He straightens up:
“I am Lord Tenderfoot. Please, please – be welcome in my home.”
I glance over at the servant who’d answered the door – still slumped and unconscious on the chair Hadone had gently laid her on.
“Oh, she’ll be all right,” Lord Tenderfoot reassures me. “Tera is always fainting at the slightest thing. Just give her time and she’ll be up and about again.
As if on cue, Tera stirs, blinking, and opens her eyes. She looks up at the Aurelians like she can’t believe what she’s seeing right in front of her.
“Forn tells me you traveled from the burnt city,” Tenderfoot speaks to me. “Barl, I presume he meant. My God, the tragedy. Did these Aurelians help you out of there?”
There’s a dark edge of grief to his voice, and I realize that the Lord Tenderfoot has been crying. It’s as though the tragedy of Barl has touched him personally. The old man pretends to scratch his cheek and brushes a tear from his eye.
I nod. “They did. In fact, they’re the only reason we’re all still alive.”
Lord Tenderfoot smiles. “You’ll find I don’t share the same sentiments as the rest of the Capital towards Aurelians. Besides, these are not your regular Aurelians.”
“I’ve done intensive research on this subject matter. Legends tell of tribal Aurelians, living far away on a primitive jungle planet. They travel through portals to take their fated mates back to their planet and continue their species.”
I was planning on defending the Aurelians against whatever prejudice the nobleman might have. Instead, all eyes turn to me and I blush as everyone realizes the same thing.