Earthborn Awakening

by Matthew DeVore

  Ethan walked with Allison to the door of his room. When they stopped, she threw her arms around him, giving him a light kiss. Then she put her head on his shoulder.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered.

  Ethan held on to her as if hanging on for life. His head was spinning. She’d kissed him. The rest of the day faded into a distant memory. The horror disappeared. All of a sudden, with Allison’s arms around him, he was happy. And he hated himself for it. So many people have died, and all I can think about is a kiss.

  “I’m glad you’re here too,” he managed to tell her. Her shoulder-length, ebony hair smelled like flowers.

  They stood, locked in each other’s arms. After a while, Allison loosened her grip and backed away—just a bit.

  “Well, good night,” Ethan said. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he slowly backed into his room. Still looking at Allison, he tripped over a chair, luckily landing on his pillows and blankets.

  Allison giggled. “Good night.” But she didn’t move. “Ethan?” she asked slowly. “I don’t really want to sleep alone tonight.”

  Ethan’s heart started pounding more than it already was.

  “We’ve narrowly avoided death at least twice now,” she said, “and I can’t help wondering when our luck is going to run out.”

  Ethan scooted over and patted the blankets. “You can stay here if you want.”

  Allison walked over and lay down next him. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “Anytime,” Ethan replied in the same quiet voice.

  She grabbed his arm and pulled it across her waist. “Ethan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “The resistance is dying. How are we going to survive this?” Her voice was trembling.

  “I think….” He paused a moment, the tingling in his gut having started again. “I think we have to find help.”

  Chapter 10

  A black skimmer pulled up to a large towering skyscraper in the heart of Madison City. The passenger and driver doors opened simultaneously, and Traven and Kalma stepped out of the vehicle.

  “I’m just saying you should’ve killed him,” Traven told Kalma as they walked toward the building’s double doors.

  “He helped us out more than enough to keep his life—this time, at least,” Kalma responded. He wasn’t ready to tell Traven why he’d spared Eric’s life. I’ll never be ready.

  They entered the building and made their way up the stairs toward their rooms. Zavier’s head popped out of his door. “The prodigals have returned!” he shouted.

  “Shut up, Zavier!” Malik yelled from his own room. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

  After taking the hospital, Traven and Kalma had returned to the small house on the corner to retrieve their gear, lingering there until well into the night to make sure no one had followed them. On their way back to base, they doubled back multiple times. All of this made for a pretty late arrival at about 2:00 a.m.

  Zavier left his room wearing his Guard-issued gray boxer-brief undies and met them in the hallway. “What are you wearing?” he asked, not attempting to quiet his voice at all.

  “Pretty stylish, eh?” Kalma replied, doing a little spin in the clothes he’d stolen from the house. He and Traven had thrown their gear into tote bags rather than changing into them for the journey back.

  Traven shook his head at the two of them, went to his room, and shut the door. It’d been a successful day, and he was ready to get some sleep. He took off the filthy clothes he was wearing and threw them on the desk next to the wall, then lay down on his black sleeping mat and sighed. Home. Traven had been deployed so many times over the years that he was starting to consider his little black mat home.

  Closing his eyes, he heard Zavier yell from the hallway, “An entire factory? You took out an entire factory?” Zavier gave a long whistle. “I miss all the fun.”

  “Cut it out, Zavier,” Wren called from his room. “I’m sure we’ll hear about it in the morning. Hit the bunk.”

  Traven couldn’t help but chuckle. He loved these guys, even Zavier. Everyone except Kalma had been together for several years. They were his friends, his brothers.

  He closed his eyes, rolled over, and fell fast asleep.

  In the hallway, the fun was over, and Zavier and Kalma went back to their respective rooms. Kalma laid his bag next to his mat, double-checked that his door was closed, and then sat on his mat and crossed his legs. Placing both hands in front of him, palms up, he focused on the slight pool of energy he felt deep within his chest and pushed the energy forward. It ran down both arms, leaving a fleeting, glowing yellow trail as it rushed into his palms before leaping out of his hands and concentrating into two small yellow glowing spheres hovering above his hands. Little wisps of what looked like lightning shot out of the spheres several inches from the balls before dying out into nothingness.

  Effortlessly, Kalma extinguished the glowing orbs and lay back onto his mat. Someday I won’t have to hide anymore, but for now I’ve got to keep playing the long game. It’s the only way this’ll work. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  The alarm on Kalma’s multiband went off at 7:00 a.m. the next morning. He turned it off, then rolled over and patted his plasma rifle, which was lying next to him. “Good morning, sweetie,” he told his weapon. “I think you’ll have a nice relaxing day today.”

  He got up and grabbed breakfast with the rest of the team as they chatted about their adventures the past few days. Kalma made sure to include the portion about Traven struggling with the front door lock—everyone laughed, except Traven.

  “But really,” Malik told Traven, “we all suck at magic. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

  “True story,” Alex added. “Although, people do say the ancient Guard were as skilled with magic as the Elves.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Zavier responded. “Obviously we won the great war, but I think that had more to do with strategy and fighting prowess than magic.”

  “I find that hard to swallow as well,” Wren cut in. “I think it’s the stuff of legend more than fact. Those stories were probably created to inspire fear. It helps give us the advantage in combat, that’s all. A fearful, demoralized enemy is weak.”

  “Nowadays, no one’s really sure how good the Elves were with magic,” Zavier continued. “The so-called Earthborn were annihilated, and the Elven home world went into seclusion after their surrender. As long as they mind their own business and keep paying the Council’s peace tax, the High Councilman’s left them mostly to their own devices.”

  “It’s all speculation,” Wren went on. “Recordings from the Great War are kept tucked away in the Council’s deepest archives. No one but the High Councilman himself can view those records.”

  “It certainly wouldn’t hurt though,” Kalma said, “if we were able to master magic.”

  “If one of us could do that,” Traven replied, “he’d need to be careful not to let the High Councilman see him as a threat. That being said, having someone like that on the team would be helpful. You’ll let us know if you discover some deep magical talent, right, kid?”

  Everyone laughed, and Zavier gave Traven a friendly slap on the back. “Traven, you kill me sometimes.” Zavier struggled to get the words out between bouts of laughter.

  Alex joined the taunt. “Yeah, kid, what do you say? You got something you need to tell us?” He was laughing so hard tears were forming in the corners of his eyes.

  “No, of course not,” Kalma said.

  “Maybe it’s time to shift this conversation to more realistic matters,” Wren suggested. “Let’s talk about this weapon you mentioned in the northern mountains. Do you have any idea what it could be?”

  “No,” Traven answered. “The soldier we interrogated didn’t know, but it must be important to risk maintaining a base behind our lines.”

  “We’ve gotten some reports of Alliance activity in the northern mountain area,” Wren told the team. “Initial i
ntel suggested it was just scouts, but it sounds like there’s something more going on up there. I think we’ll take a look ourselves this evening. We can start where our intel suggests and go from there. First I’ll check in with Councilwoman Denetaa, and then we’ll meet in the lobby at sunset.”

  Everyone got up from the table. Zavier called out to Traven, “Alex here found out these Humans have a game called poker. Wanna play a few...what do they call it?”

  “Hands,” Alex supplied. “Play a few hands.”

  “Yeah, that’s it. Do you want to play a few hands with us?”

  “Nah,” Traven said. “There’re a couple of things I need to take care of in my quarters. Maybe next time.”

  “Your loss,” Alex said. “Zavier isn’t very good at the game.”

  Traven made his way back to his room, shutting the door and sitting down in a chair in front of the generic metal desk. Magic had never come easy to him, but he wasn’t about to give Kalma another chance at humiliating him.

  Feeling for the little spark of energy within himself, Traven focused as best he could. Nothing. I used to be able to do this. He closed his eyes and tried to shut everything else out of his mind.

  All of a sudden, he found himself standing in the middle of a forest while an intense battle raged around him. A hundred yards ahead, he saw two figures standing on a fallen tree. The first was a beautiful Elven girl with flowing blonde hair that splashed about her face as she spun in circles, deflecting plasma rifle bolts by materializing small, nearly translucent shields in their paths. The bolts lit up the impossibly thin, almost immaterial surface as they crashed harmlessly against the magic. Her turns were so graceful, it almost looked like she was dancing. Although the two figures were completely surrounded, not one blast touched them.

  Directly next to the girl was a much older Elven man dressed in flowing robes and a long white beard with hair to match. He was throwing blue-white energy bolts from his hands, each connecting with an Urlowen standard soldier. Traven looked around and saw all his team, except Malik and Kalma, vehemently firing their weapons at the two Elves. His heart sank as he realized that even with far greater numbers, the Urlowens were outmatched. Where are Malik and Kalma? Everyone was clearly needed for this fight.

  In the middle of the scene, he began to hear a rhythmic pounding. It started soft but grew louder and louder. His eyes shot open, and he was back in his room, his head on the desk top as someone knocked on his door.

  “Just a minute,” he called irritably to the knocker. He was furious with himself. I fell asleep. How did I fall asleep?

  His muscles were sore and stiff when he stood up. He looked at the window and saw the sun setting over the mountains. “I slept all day!” he grumbled, scolding himself. “Why can’t I figure out this magic stuff?” Figuring the past several days had taken a larger toll on him than he realized, he let himself relax a bit and opened the door. Kalma was standing in the hall in all his gear.

  “Were you talking to yourself in there?” Kalma asked.

  “Yes I was. Do you have a problem with that?” Traven snapped back.

  “No, I was just curious,” Kalma replied in his usual cheerful voice. “You better get your gear on fast. We’re going to be late. What’ve you been doing all day?”

  Traven hurried over to his bag and began putting on his body armor. “I just needed some time alone. The building can get a little crowded with the six of us in here.” He grabbed his weapons and began putting them into their various positions: he slipped a set of throwing knives into compartments around his right thigh, attached a collapsible rifle to the armor on his back, and continued with the rest.

  After Traven was finished, he and Kalma walked toward the staircase at the end of the hall. He knew Kalma was talking next to him, but he was having difficulty taking his mind off the dream. It felt so real. He shook his head, still trying to clear it.

  Kalma looked at him, concern in his eyes. “Are you all right? I’ve been talking to you for the last few minutes, but you haven’t said a thing.”

  Traven looked around and found that he and Kalma were standing in the lobby. The others were just a little farther ahead. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just sick of your blabbering.” He hoped the lie would convince Kalma.

  Get it together, Traven. You’ve got a job to do.

  They joined the others and walked outside where another skimmer, larger than the last, had been dropped off in front of the building. Wren climbed into the driver position, and Traven took the passenger seat. The rest got into the back.

  Wren turned around and looked at his men. They were as formidable as always. He gave them a big smile. “Let’s go hunting.”

  Traven stared through the front window at the mountainous forest ahead, an ominous feeling planted firmly in his gut.

  Chapter 11

  The skimmer moved quickly through the city and then up winding mountain trails, the ride smooth since the vehicle hovered over the bumps. Traven watched the trees move past. They were imaged by the skimmer’s object sensors, and fully lit versions were projected onto the interior of the windows. There was virtually no difference between driving a skimmer in the day and driving it at night due to these highly advanced viewing systems.

  After three hours, Wren pulled the skimmer off the rugged trail. Everyone got out and prepared for the hike ahead. A holographic landscape of the nearby forest jumped off their multibands as Wren sent each of them a map of the area.

  “We’re here,” he said. A flashing green spot marked their location in the forest on the image. “Our last intel indicated a small amount of Alliance movement in this general location.” A red shaded area came to life in the map above their arms. “If there’s a base here, then I’d guess it’s on top of the ridge about five miles from our current position.” A yellow mark appeared, centered on a ridge straddling two deep canyons. “This position would give their lookouts a sizable advantage to see approaching forces. With just the six of us, we should be able to approach without being seen. We’ll break into three two-man teams and come in at 120 degrees from each other.”

  Wren looked up from the map. “Malik, Traven, you take the far southwestern approach. Zavier, Kalma, you two take the northwestern approach. Whoever spots the compound first, mark it on the map. We’ll all adjust our positions accordingly.”

  The maps disappeared, and the men paired off into their teams. They hiked for an hour and a half before Wren and Alex marked the compound on the map, exactly where Wren had suspected it would be. He and Alex climbed up the front of the ridge, taking cover behind trees and large boulders as they approached. Once in sight of the complex, they hunkered down behind a very large rock that jutted at an odd left angle toward the sky. It was big enough for the two of them to stay comfortably concealed while providing a view of the back of the complex that was protected by two fences running parallel to each other around the base’s perimeter.

  “The entrance must be on the western side,” Wren whispered to Alex. He opened the communication channel on his multiband. “Any of you see the entrance?”

  “We’ve got it,” Traven responded.

  “Perfect. Kalma, Zavier, are you in position?”

  “We’re ready,” Zavier replied.

  “All right, Traven and Malik,” Wren said, “make some noise at the entrance. Start drawing them to you. The rest of us will work our way in from behind and clear them out. Keep some of them alive. We may need information from them. Malik and Traven, we’ll wait for your signal.”

  Wren reached down to the armor on his left thigh, where a small compartment popped open. The opening faced the ground, allowing the contents to drop into his waiting hand. “Seekers,” he told Alex.

  Following Wren’s lead, Alex removed fifteen identical black marbles from a similar compartment in his own armor. Holding the objects in one hand, he activated the seeker control system built into his multiband and waited.

  A few seconds later, the sound of rifle fire filled
the air from across the compound. Sirens sounded, and Alliance troops began pouring from the hastily built shelters that composed most of the compound. The majority of the soldiers ran toward the entrance while a few began checking the outer perimeter.

  “Set them to incapacitate,” Wren told Alex. “I’ll have mine cut us a hole in the fence.”

  Together, they stepped out from behind the boulder and tossed the black marbles toward the compound. Resuming their hidden position, they watched the seekers’ progress on their multibands. When the seekers hit the ground, they bounced a few times and rolled to a stop just before the outer fence. Four metal legs emerged from inside each sphere, and all thirty seekers crawled toward the compound. Wren’s seekers climbed the fence and quickly cut a hole large enough for him and Alex to fit through.

  Alex’s entered the compound between the chain links. Two Alliance soldiers were nearby. A seeker climbed up the back of each of their legs, making their way to the napes of the men’s necks before the soldiers realized something was wrong.

  “What is that?” one of them screamed as he swatted at the back of his neck. The seeker dug its legs into the man’s flesh and then sent an electrical shock through his body that knocked him unconscious. Once the second soldier suffered the same fate, the seekers released their victims and scurried deeper into the compound.

  “They are effective, I’ll give ’em that,” Alex said, “but they kinda take the fun out of it.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Wren agreed.

  Alex and Wren stood and walked toward the hole in the fence before them. The gunfire near the entrance of the compound began to slow. “It won’t be much longer now,” Wren said. “Between our seekers and the others’, this should go pretty quick.”

  Wren looked around at the buildings before them. The best-constructed facility was in the center of the base.