The Drellic Saga: Books One, Two and Three

by Mike Marlinski

  Chapter One

  As the people of Siren grew to cherish and admire Drellic, in the years leading up to their annihilation at the hands of The Architects, the people of Tyrran had little choice, but to turn to Drellic’s brother, Daelon, for protection and guidance, in their final days.

  Circa 15 billion years ago, before the Architect’s Planet Farmers turned their tools of creation into weapons of mass destruction, sending Tyrran into oblivion, Daelon had become one of the last survivors in a very long chain of command. One hundred years after Drellic had first declared war on the Architects, the bulk of the fleet of Planet Farmers and other specialty vessels, had massed in orbit around Siren, and begun their final assault on the billions of humans below.

  Millions of them had been infused with Starblood, and were using their new found gifts to aid Drellic in his campaign to slaughter the powerful aliens, claiming to be their creators. Those of the Tyrranese people who had been given the gift of Starblood, by Drellic, were also on Siren, fighting by his side. This included several officials at the top of the Tyrranese government.

  As Siren was about to fall, Drellic sent a gargled transmission to Daelon, in which he had said, “Brother, I fear the end is coming. Your Emperor is dead. Your council is dead. Your generals are dead. The battle is lost here. But Tyrran still has a chance to survive and preserve our way of life. Dear brother, the future of our people is now in the hands of the archivists. Go now to The Depths, and fulfill your destiny.”

  Daelon knew what Drellic was about to ask of him, and felt the intense pressure of the legacy of two worlds weighing down on him. He shook with fear, as a violent tremor shook his chamber. The various electronic consoles surrounding him, appeared to be losing power. Bright sparks of electricity leapt from the walls around him and attacked him, like fire born insects, mercilessly striking his bare arms and face, while setting the bottom of his light blue cloak, ablaze.

  He frantically sprang up from his rusty metal work bench and tore off the cloak, revealing a tight fit black jump suit, nearly identical to Drellic’s government issued uniform. A few moments passed, before the sparking of circuit boards and LED’s finally came to a stop and every electronic device in the room was dead. Drellic’s face then abruptly vanished from the monitor.

  Daelon was known as the High Archivist of the planet Tyrran. There were hundreds of other archivists under his charge, spread throughout the world, but Daelon had been selected by his Emperor to be the keeper of every last historical record of man. These records spanned a three million year union between Siren and Tyrran, as well as the billions of years the two worlds had spent apart, before becoming technologically advanced enough to discover one another.

  In the final days of the Architect War, the last of those in power on Tyrran, including the Emperor himself, had accepted Drellic’s gift of Starblood and were currently engaged in the final battle on Siren. In the Emperor’s absence, the Archivists alone, were left to care for Tyrran and the digital legacy of humankind.

  After a few minutes, the tremors had subsided and all was silent inside Daelon’s chamber, aside from the humming of a small metallic box. The Archivist’s Oath had been inscribed upon it. Daelon himself, had worked tirelessly to brand the box with the oath, with a Starblood infused cutting torch, days earlier.

  The Architects themselves, had yet to make a physical appearance upon, or around Tyrran, but the effects of their presence were already being felt worldwide, and had been for the last century. Using their combined power sources, the Architect vessels surrounding Siren, sent a powerful electro-magnetic pulse across the vacuum of space, which infected every fusion powered or electrical device on Tyrran, rendering them all useless.

  It was no doubt, a prelude to invasion, indicating to Daelon that he had little time to act upon Drellic’s wishes. As he had just been informed, the entire Tyrranese chain of command had been slaughtered, right down to the Archivist Order. Archivists were in no danger of becoming warriors before this happened. However, as Drellic had just communicated to Daelon, in the most panicky tone he had ever heard escape his brother’s lips, the record keepers of man, were now the last line of defense for Tyrran.

  Knowing that the days of man were on their way to an abrupt end, Daelon had also taken it upon himself to consolidate every major event in the history of his race that had ever been recorded, onto a single recording device. The metallic box, known as the Talin, was made of an indestructible alloy that Daelon, along with the greatest scientists on the planet, had synthesized themselves. It was built to withstand any form of weather or catastrophic event. It also carried a small fusion reactor, capable of powering it for possibly billions of years, which Daelon had also co- invented.

  It was the only power source of its kind and couldn’t be used to power other devices, since all other power sources had been drained, planet wide, in a matter of minutes. As the newly appointed Emperor by default, Daelon had even more of a responsibility to the preservation of man’s legacy and would gladly give his own life, before allowing the Talin to fall into the hands of his enemies. The information contained within the Talin, was meant for either future generations of man or other cosmic travelers, with no affiliation with The Architects.

  There was only one place on the planet, where Daelon felt the safety of the Talin would be ensured. He would have no choice, but to carry it on foot to Delendra tower, a gleaming mile high tower in the center of Faul City, identical to a tower of the same name on Siren.

  Daelon was currently inside the basement of the Hall of Records, on the outskirts of Faul City, the capital of Tyrran. Since the arrival of the Architects, many of those left behind to fend for themselves, while millions of others had been given Starblood and were engaged in battle on Siren, were beginning to resent Drellic for having initiated the conflict.

  The people were losing hope, and as their morale faded and bitterness grew, Daelon was becoming a target. His only chance of making it to the tower with the Talin, was to attract as little attention to himself as possible. He reached down and picked up his cloak, which was burnt along the bottom. He quickly put it on and threw his hood over his head.

  As he turned to leave the room, he hit a particular sequence of characters on top of the Talin, which powered it down. Once its quiet hum fell silent, Daelon put it under his cloak and held it tightly to his right side. Another tremor then shook the floor beneath him, nearly knocking him to the floor. He caught his balance on the wall with his free hand and cautiously made his way up the basement steps.

  He could hear people shouting outside, as the tremor came to a stop. The rickety wooden stairs creaked beneath his feet with every step. His eyes grew more and more anxious, as he approached the top of the stairs. He was inches away from the rusting steel door, leading to the outside.

  Sunlight crept through the small, stain glass window in the center of the door. Daelon peeked through the window, to see a mother and two small children, next to a broken down hover craft. The useless hunk of brown scrap metal, laid lifeless on its side, as the mother struggled to restart its engine. Daelon couldn’t help but silently mock her, as she obliviously continued to attempt restarting the craft, without seeing the dozens of other disabled crafts around her.

  His patience was running out, but Daelon was paranoid about the woman’s potential affiliations with his new enemies. After a few more minutes, she finally gave up, grabbed her children and ran in the direction of a growing crowd, at the base of the stone steps, which led to the Hall of Records’ main entrance. For a moment, the side street that Daelon had been observing was completely deserted. He then quickly, but cautiously, exited the building and made his way towards Delendra Tower.

  When he reached the end of the street, he came to a black paved intersection, covered in metallic debris from downed civilian and military ships. The light from the sun, combined with the brightness of the flames in the debris, blinded Daelon, as he struggled to weave his way through the chaotic ar
ea.

  Sparks flew in his direction, adding to the black char that had already accumulated on his cloak. The Talin almost slipped from beneath his arm. He knelt down, in what seemed like a circle of fire, and repositioned it. Once he had a firm hold on it, he got to his feet.

  He could see Delendra, shining brightly in the sunlight overhead, towering over the other skyscrapers in downtown Faul, like a silent guardian. He squinted to see passed Delendra, where he saw Siren, floating in the distance. The two worlds were only 239,000 miles apart and kept their respective bodies of water in perfect equilibrium, sharing a bond similar to the one Earth had once shared with its moon.

  Although it was a beautiful sight to see, Daelon could clearly tell that the faint lights illuminating from the surface of Siren, were not the normal twinkling specks, generated by of millions of city lights, but great fires, the size of entire continents, on the scorched world.

  He looked on, as he perceived the Architect vessels surrounding Siren, to look like small, black sea creatures, with tentacles, extending through the atmosphere, igniting the land, as if it were paper. At that moment, he knew Siren had fallen. He also assumed that both his parents and his brother, had already been killed, leaving Daelon as the last surviving member of Kail House.

  One hundred years before the fall of Siren, Drellic had shared the gift of Starblood with his parents. At the time, he was an only child, and the three Kails ruled over Siren with iron fists, while relishing in their supernatural abilities and immortality for a century. For the better part of that period, the Kails believed that the battle had turned around and that man’s victory was inevitable.

  But at the time, they hadn’t seen even half of the Architect army. When the bulk of the Architect forces finally arrived, Drellic’s mother, Syll, became pregnant with Daelon. Despite the protests of Drellic and his father, Morn, Syll refused to have an abortion and gave birth to Daelon, thirty four years before the fall of Siren.

  By this time, the last of Drellic’s Starblood stockpile had been used up. Daelon was not only born into a world of total chaos and impending annihilation, he was destined to be frail and mortal, never to be afforded the superhuman gifts that had been taken for granted by those around him.

  When he came of age to leave Siren on his own, he was sent to Tyrran to become an Archivist. History had always been a passion of Daelon’s, and his family felt it would be the best way for him to live some kind of fulfilling life, before the end of days. It was that love for history and the preserving of knowledge and legacies that was driving Daelon to continue to push forward.

  Even if all else failed, Daelon was determined to send the Talin somewhere safe, where the knowledge of man could perhaps one day be salvaged by those deserving. He believed this would prevent his people from dying in vain.

  As Daelon continued to gaze up into the heavens at his brother’s world, he noticed that the swarm of sea monster-looking ships surrounding Siren, was getting larger. The Architect vessels were bunching together and nearly eclipsing the planet. A moment later, they spread out again, making Siren completely visible.

  The once gleaming blue orb that had served as a beacon of hope and prosperity to the Tyrranese, had been reduced to a decaying ball of fire. The vessels responsible for the slaughter of the Sirenese people, were subsequently getting much larger in the Tyrran sky.

  Daelon knew he had only a few hours left to accomplish his goal. He shook with fear again, as he choked back his tears and buried his emotions. He knew that staying focused on the task at hand, would be his only salvation.

  No longer fearing retaliation from the citizens of Faul City, Daelon used every ounce of strength he had left, to make a run for Delendra Tower. He sprinted down the street, while weaving through the seemingly endless obstacle course of disabled vehicles and debris from ships and buildings. He dodged fiery spark after fiery spark, and used the pain of occasionally being burned, to drown out his urge to throw the Talin to the ground and scream in agony.

  A few minutes later, he was finally at the main entrance to Delendra, but before he could ascend the steel steps leading to the front doors to the building, a loud rumble came from overheard, startling him. He whirled around to see a small gray Star Fighter, with the ringed circles- man’s symbol of celestial unity, painted on its side, in white.

  It was the same symbol seen on every Sirenese and Tyrranese banner; two circles, representing the two worlds, with a bold ring around them. The fighter evasively navigated through the web of skyscrapers, surrounding Delendra, and prepared to land at the foot of the tower’s metal steps, where Daelon was standing.

  The bottom thrusters of the ship, kicked up dust and debris from the ground, sending it flying at Daelon’s face. Daelon shielded himself, as the ship extended its landing stanchions and landed in the middle of the street, with a loud thud. The ship’s side hatch promptly opened and a taller man for the time period, roughly nine feet tall, hopped down to the ground and aggressively walked towards Daelon. The man had long burgundy colored hair, was very muscular and wore tan overalls and large black military boots. He didn’t appear to be armed, but Daelon was assuming the worst. As the man got closer, revealing his piercing gaze and dirt covered, olive skin, Daelon recognized him.

  Much to his dismay, the new arrival was called Core. He was one of Drellic’s lieutenants. One of the few who had also never been exposed to Starblood, due to its depletion. Core had never liked Daelon, because he felt that he was weak in nature and served no purpose in battle. To Core, this made Daelon unworthy of the Kail name. Core had also become extra bitter over time, because like Daelon, he had been born after the last of Drellic’s Starblood was gone, making him feel quite useless himself.

  Daelon had no interest in wasting any time with Core.

  “What are you doing here, Core?” Daelon asked, with confidence.

  “All their power,” Core began. “…And they couldn’t save us. They’re all dead,” he continued as tears streamed down his face.

  “I know,” Daelon replied with sorrow. “There was nothing you could’ve done.”

  “That’s the point!” Core screamed.

  His voice echoed through the deserted buildings around them, sending a chill down Daelon’s spine.

  “Think of all that could’ve happened differently, if I had just been born a few decades sooner,” Core continued. “If I had their gifts…things would’ve been much harder for our enemies. So many of us would still be alive right now. Mark my words…”

  Daelon turned his attention to the Architect fleet, much larger in the sky and closing fast. At that moment, he couldn’t help but laugh at Core’s arrogance and ignorant nature.

  “Really?” Daelon asked him with a smile. “You? You alone, could’ve turned the tide? Is that honestly what you’re saying? Turn around and look up,” Daelon boasted, pointing up to the approaching ships in the sky. “Look at that and tell me what you could’ve done to stop them!”

  Core refused to turn and face the Architect fleet and continued approaching Daelon. He then pulled a long blade from a pouch strapped to his side and quickly charged him. Core pushed Daelon back, causing him to trip over the steel steps. Daelon landed on his back. The Talin had popped out from under his arm and was only concealed by a thin part of his cloak, still draped over it.

  Core looked down at the box shaped bulge under Daelon’s cloak, as he pressed his knife to his throat.

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” Core asked, as he pressed the blade more firmly against Daelon’s skin.

  “What?” Daelon gasped.

  “Don’t act oblivious. I’m hardly in the mood,” Core spat, in his typical mid pitched sinister tone. “I know what you’ve got there,” he continued. “And that’s why I’m here. Drellic told me what you intend to do with the Talin. I’m afraid I can’t let you bury it in the Depths.”

  The Depths Core was referring to, were a series of underground caverns that had been retrofitted as fall
out shelters, at the beginning of the war. Once sealed by their impenetrable metal shields, they could only ever be opened again from the inside.

  “Drellic told you about it?” Daelon asked.

  “Oh, yes. He told me everything. Just before I watched him die,” Core replied.

  “You saw my brother’s death?” Daelon asked, with panicky breaths.

  “I did,” Core answered. “He died like a true war hero should. He sacrificed himself, in order to get in one final blow to the enemy and ensure my survival. I managed to escape with a few others, undetected, after the planet was incinerated. They stripped us of our atmosphere and bathed every square inch of land and ocean in flame. Drellic was aboard my ship. The same one you see here behind me. Without fear, he sealed himself in the airlock and jumped through space from my ship onto one of theirs. He glowed like the sun. The vacuum didn’t even faze him. It was magical.”

  “And that was the last you saw of him?” Daelon coughed, from beneath the shimmering knife, still gripped firmly in Core’s hand.

  “He died a hero,” Core replied. “Or at least better than you were about to die, before I got here. Give it to me!”

  Core reached beneath Daelon’s cloak and grabbed the Talin. He then released Daelon and backed away from him, holding it up to the sky.

  “Do you know what this is?!” Core yelled. “The power source you created for this thing, is about to be converted into the greatest weapon our species has ever known! This is what is going to save Tyrran!”

  “You’re insane,” Daelon replied, as he got back to his feet. “It would only take out two Architect ships at best.”

  “You’re wrong,” Core scoffed. “It’s so much more powerful than that. Drellic told me everything about it. You just never took the time to examine the details and learn its true potential.”

  Daelon had gone to school with Core when they were children. He also had the misfortune of growing up in his family’s house on Siren, while the Kails were away at war. Daelon had always felt as though, he had lived in Core’s shadow his entire life. While Daelon focused his studies on science and the archives, Core was very much an athlete and prided himself on his physical strength and abnormally large size.

  Both Daelon and Core, spent their teenage years doing what they felt they had to do, to be useful in the war. Daelon felt the answer was buried somewhere in science, while Core, in his quest to compensate for his lack of Starblood, dedicated his life to being what Daelon perceived to be a merciless thug.

  In the end, it was Core’s stealing the Talin and the certain extinction of humanity that drove Daelon to unleash his rage upon him. After the slightest flicker of hesitation, Daelon let out a blood curdling scream and lunged at Core, knocking him to the ground. The Talin bounced off to Daelon’s left.

  He pounced on it, then carried it up the stairs towards Delendra. Core angrily pursued him. It didn’t take Core long to catch up with Daelon, given his longer legs and superior athleticism. Core then dove onto Daelon’s back, flipped him over and pressed his knife to his throat once again, in the exact same fashion he had, while at the bottom of the staircase.

  “I don’t want to kill you. I want to make this last effort to save our people, together!” Core screamed. “But make no mistake. What you intend to bury could be our greatest weapon. Bury it and I will bury you.”

  Daelon stared deeply into Core’s eyes, uncertain of what to do or say next. He only knew that depending on his choice, he might have been taking his final breaths.