Amorlia
Age of Wonder
Chris Wichtendahl
Rogues
The Exiles
The First One took a step. It was one of billions of steps he had taken since his long journey had begun. He gripped the grey rags tighter around him and grit his teeth. Almost over. Their destination was in sight. The First One took another step and grunted when the Fourth One came to walk beside him. She smiled, the sharp points of her teeth fairly glowing with the light of an entire reality going nova. First didn't know what Fourth had to smile about. Walking back from the Outer Dark over the uncounted millennia had leeched what small dregs there'd been of First's humor. But then, Fourth had always tended to enjoy herself a bit more than First thought appropriate. No, there was nothing to smile about. For all that they reached the end of their unceasing journey, there were many realities between them and their goal. That last universe had actually tried to stop them. It had the gall to attempt to force them back into exile, as though they were common criminals. So First and Fourth, and their four companions, had to destroy that reality. They continued on, the last dying embers of a savaged universe guttering out behind them. They walked the realms of void and shadow, the worlds between the worlds and the frigid emptiness of space. Step after step, slowly and steadily, they walked the long road home. Fourth smiled again, winked and pushed forward to take the lead. First shook his head with a grimace. He still didn't see what there was to-- And then he did. Fourth sent the thought back to him, her sharp grin undiminished. She thought to him of what she had planned for the wretched little godlings with their mob of talking apes who had cast them into the Dark so many eons ago. He shook his head again, but the grimace was for himself. He'd been walking so long, he'd forgotten the best part. He passed the thought along to the others, each adding their own sadistic suggestions. And then First had a reason to smile, adding a spring to his step.
A Devil's Bargain
rofessor Jat Loren stormed into his office aboard the luxury airship he'd dubbed "The Temple in the Clouds". He slammed the door behind him and struggled out of his shimmering blue-white robe, which he tossed unceremoniously to the floor. Professor Jat, as his people called him, poured himself a stiff drink before he sat down behind the large desk at the back of the room. The Professor gulped down some of his drink, then put the glass down on the desk. He shuffled through some papers, his eye falling on a chart that mapped the growth of his followers. The numbers were climbing steadily, though not in the amount he'd hoped. At best, Professor Jat's Sacred Traveling Ministry of the Divine Spark was a seasonal curiosity; a carnival, for want of a better analogy. He took another drink. Perhaps he should have discouraged the merchants and craftsfolk and wandering musicians when they'd first begun gathering wherever the airship touched down. But the food, shopping, music and general festival atmosphere had drawn more people to the fields and farms he landed in, which meant more would come to hear the sermons he preached in the elegant Grand Chapel of the "Temple in the Clouds". Professor Jat would actually have his pilot take the ship up once the services began, opening the shades from the thick glass walls to reveal the splendor of the skies. But for all his dramatics, few who came to hear his sermons returned. Those that did, however, were his, body and soul. Jat Loren was a telepath, but unfortunately not a very good one. Only the gullible, the weak-willed and the simple-minded were vulnerable to his powers, though that had served him well enough so far. Since founding his new religion ten years ago, Jat had been amazed to discover just how many wealthy people were remarkably weak- willed. Through the "donations" of his "temple patrons", Professor Jat had amassed a small fortune. It enabled him to pay off the necessary officials to keep the Pacifica from hassling him. In the Unified Lands of Amorlia, new religions were not encouraged. It had only been a century since the old faiths had fallen before the truth of the Revelation, and the people were not generally inclined to take up another. Self-determination was the order of this new Age, which had ushered in an unprecedented wave of industry and innovation. Though for all that, there would always be sheep in need of a shepherd to tell them what to think and how to feel. The problem was, his particular flock wasn't all that big. He had money, certainly, but what he wanted was power. What he wanted- "The High Queenship," a voice spoke from the door. Professor Jat looked up sharply, spilling some of his drink. He gaped at the man standing in the doorway. When pressed to describe him, or any of his companions, the Professor could never recall any detail. The man was tall, but not in any obvious way and dressed head-to- foot in a grey suit of the most common fashion. His face showed no signs of age, though it did not in any way look young. The grey hair added to the man's seeming maturity, while its fullness suggested a certain vigor. The thing that struck the Professor about this man was not so much that he didn't stay long in the memory, but that he was also barely observable. One could be looking directly at this man and swear there was no one there. Professor Jat regained his voice as he noticed four others, two men and two women of similar grey clothing and appearance, standing behind the first man. He stood up from his desk and came around the front of it to face the intruders. He was not a cowardly man, though also not one possessed of great discretion. "What do you want here?" he shouted, "Get off this ship, or I'll summon the Pacifica!" Summoning an official airship for aid was his right as a citizen, but he was loath to bring their attention to his little enterprise. Bribes only went so far. The man in grey opened his arms wide, palms out in a gesture of supplication. "Ah," he said, smiling, "I do apologize for giving you the wrong impression, sir," he offered a slight bow, taking a few casual steps into the room as he did so, allowing one of the women of his party to take his place in the doorway. The first man continued to smile. Professor Jat assumed it was meant to be warm, perhaps even friendly, but the black void in the man's gaze gave the lie to his smile. Knowing full well he'd get nowhere, Professor Jat tried to read the strangers' minds. As expected, he hit immediate impenetrable resistance. One of the men in the hall laughed. The Professor shrugged. "Yes," the first man nodded, still smiling, "I suppose it was worth a try." He crossed the room, coming to stand in front of Professor Jat, looking down. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Would you like to see?" His smile widened, showing razor sharp teeth. "Just once?" "I-inside your mind?" Professor Jat stepped back, coming up against his desk. The man in grey loomed over him. The Professor shook his head, "N-nuh-no," he shook it vigorously, "Nuh-" And then he saw. For a split second, he was inside the first man's mind. For a split second that lasted forever he spun madly through the cold empty void. The universe flooded his brain, pulling him down into madness. When he came to himself, he was clinging tight to his desk, screaming his throat raw. The man in grey sat in the Professor's chair, and the woman from the doorway helped Professor Jat into one of the visitor's chairs. Her smile seemed easy and of genuine kindness, until she bared her teeth and he suddenly wanted to wet himself. She brought him water and he sipped it carefully, wincing as it cooled his rough throat. "There now," the first man said, his smile now slight, "I trust we understand where we all fit into this arrangement, hm?" Professor Jat nodded, openly terrified. "Tut tut," the first man said, making placating gestures with his hands, "no one is killing you today, Professor. In fact," the first man smiled, "we'd like to offer you our assistance, in acquiring that power you so desperately seek." "I..." Jat stared around him, mouth gaping open then closed, "but... you..." he pointed to each in turn, lurching around as though drunk. He nearly fell from his chair, and was righted by one of the other men. The first man took a sip from the Professor's drink and put it down on the desk. He opened his mouth to speak, then grimaced, gesturing contemptuously at the glass. "You people drink this?" he demand
ed. Jat nodded, still beyond speech. "And you consider it so pleasant as to call it a vice?" the first man was aghast. Another nod. The first man shook his head, muttering, "This all can't come a moment too soon, can it." Affirmative muttering was heard from the other grey-clad visitors. The first man cleared his throat, steepling his hands. "At any rate," he said to Professor Jat, "the facts are thus: The highest office in the Unified Lands, held these past hundred years by High Queen Artemis Vega, is once again up for election, yes?" Professor Jat nodded, opened his mouth to speak and was waved silent by the first man. "Mm," the first man appeared lost in though, then said, "I assume this Artemis Vega is running, is there anyone running against her?" "So far only one," Professor Jat said, taking a gulp of water, "Mar Dagnae, of Dagnae Industries. Her company makes most of our technology. She's one of the wealthiest people in Amorlia." The first man brushed this information aside, "Anyone else?" Professor Jat shook his head. The man in grey smiled, and this time did not even pretend at kindness, "Would you like the job?" he asked quietly. The question struck the Professor nearly dumb. "How could I... I mean, you must be... I couldn't... I'm-" "Nobody," the first man said briskly, "this is true. But with our aid, your religion will sweep this country like wildfire. We'll provide you with the necessary mythology, boost your telepathy so you can keep more sheep in their pens and give you a rallying cry to take you into the campaign." "What... what will you..." Professor Jat looked around nervously. The first man had come around the desk and now stood directly behind the sweating Professor, one pale hand on his shoulder. "Hate, Professor," the first man said, "Give people someone they can hate, and they'll follow you off a cliff." "I don't," Jat gulped, "I don't understand." "Of course not," the first man patted his shoulder, "it's likely you never will." He gestured to his companions and they filed out. As he followed behind, he turned back over his shoulder and said, "You'll be seeing us again soon." The door closed with a soft click. Professor Jat remained where he was, staring mutely into space, his mouth open in a pleased smile.
Fallen Champion
Kel Vega ran along the rooftops of Vega City's administrative district, chasing a gang of spies. They'd stolen several documents from his mother's archives in the Central Admin building - formerly the Royal Palace of the Land Vega. The thieves were an entire building ahead of him, so he leaped with the full force of his powerful legs up and over the intervening rooftop and flexed the muscles in his back to extend his wings and swoop down over them. Except, Kel Vega didn't have wings. Any more. After ten years, he still forgot sometimes. Kel had larger problems, namely the edge of the next building coming up swiftly to meet him. He twisted himself in mid-air, trying to position his body to push off from the building as lightly as possible. They were near the edge of this level's cliff face. It was a sheer drop down the mountainside into the slums of Foothill, a sprawling sea of stone, wood and glass that had spilled out of the foothills into the plains over the previous century. Kel didn't want to fall down there. The buildings were poorly built and crammed close together. He would do a lot of damage to homes and businesses that couldn't afford it if he fell down there. Better he fall on the Mayor's mansion. As it turned out, he did just that. Kel crashed through the roof and through the wall of the palatial estate, making a sizable impact crater in the surrounding yard before bouncing upward again. Fortunately most of his momentum had been absorbed by the Mayor's house. He fell close to the edge of the cliffside, so he dug his fingers into the stone, hoping to further slow his fall. He cut deep gouges in the rock, but did not slow enough to stop him doing some damage when he hit. He looked down. "Damn," he muttered. It was a residence block. Commercial buildings dotted the neighborhoods along the corners of the main road. This close to the wall, the structures were nearly a hundred years old, made mostly of wood. It wouldn't take much to pulverize the lot of them. "Kel!" a voice shouted from behind him, "I've got you!" There was a snap, a clang and a whine, and suddenly Kel was slammed into the side of the mountain and held fast by steel wire netting. It was stretched between a series of spikes embedded in the stone. "Don't move!" the voice called again, "I'm coming to get you!" Kel turned slightly, peering through the mesh screen to see a young girl riding the thick wires of the skyrail system on a set of fitted wheels protruding from the bottoms of her boots. She followed the curve of the line as it looped past the cliffside and fired a spike into the wall next to Kel. A long rope dangled from it leading all the way down the mountain to the ground. "Meet you at the bottom!" the girl called over her shoulder as she sped along the skyrail wires. She laughed at him, long curls blowing past her face. Kel sighed, then growled, "A rope stuck in the wall. That's what she meant by coming to get me?" He pushed back against the net and it came loose. Kel grabbed the rope, then the net and slid effortlessly down the rope to the ground. His rescuer was already there to meet him. "This is what you mean by coming to get me?" he tossed the net at her and she caught it deftly, stuffing it into a large satchel that hung from her shoulder. With a tug, he pulled the spike free of the wall and tossed it and the rope to her too. She coiled the rope tight, loaded it back into its gun and tucked the gun into her jacket. "Oh, I am terribly sorry," she said, "I didn't realize the great and powerful Champion of Vega City needed more than that. Of course," she paused to consider, "you are almost a hundred years old. Age could be catching up to you." "Funny, Mahnde," he said then kicked at the road, "Damn it!" She looked at him sadly, "Forgot about your wings again?" He nodded, looking down. "And whatever villains you happened to be chasing got away?" He nodded again, scuffing the ground with his foot. She walked over to him, pulling on a thick metal glove. She punched his arm. "Ow!" he said, "That actually hurt!" "Idiot," she replied, walking away. "Come on," she called back to him, "you can clean up at the shop. Conte's in today, and he'd love to see you." "Aye, okay," Kel said, rubbing his arm where she'd punched him. He followed after her down the street, adding, "I've a feeling I should stay away from Central Admin and Mother's palace for a while." "Well, at least you can be sure the Pacifica caught the spies, or whoever they were," Mahnde offered by way of consolation. "Oh yes," he grimaced, "that's going to make everything so much better."
The High Queen
Kel Vega walked across the courtyard to the palace of the High Queen. It had been built in the early part of the century in the interest of moving Artemis out of the regular palace, which was the residence of Vega's then-Monarch and was now the Central Admin building of Vega city. The new palace had been built on one of the other peaks of Vega's great mountain range, and its constantly- growing outbuildings had vastly expanded the size of the city. He passed through the gates, nodding to each of the Pacifica officers standing guard. They looked at him warily, returning his nod with curt detachment. Kel sighed. This wasn't going to go well at all. "Kel!" The voice stopped him in his tracks just inside the palace gate. From out of a side hallway, a woman in a Pacifica uniform walked swiftly toward him. "Kel, your mother is furious. Where have you been?" Kel took the woman in his arms and kissed her. "Sorry, Kai," he said. "I was visiting with Conte and Mandhe at the shop. I thought I'd give Mother a chance to cool down." Captain Kai Moxen returned the kiss with a wry grin. "Well, I'm afraid your plan had the opposite effect, darling. The High Queen grows angrier by the moment." Kel rolled his eyes. "Of course she does," he muttered, "To do otherwise would be to suggest I'm no longer an infant." He smiled. "Thank you for warning me," he said. "Well," she said, wrapping her arms around him, "if she kills you, I'm going to have to find someone else to warm my bed at night, and as Captain of the Vega City garrison, I really don't have the time." Despite himself, Kel chuckled. "Perish the thought," he said with a laugh. Then, more seriously, he added, "But I suppose I should go take my punishment." "Should I come with you?" Kel shook his head. "I have a feeling this is going to be worse than the other times." He stepped back from her and touched her cheek. "I don't want my trouble to reflect on you." "Kel..." she started to protest. He placed a finger over her lips. "You've worked hard t
o get where you are. I won't be the one to take that all away from you. Don't worry about me," he winked, "I'll manage. I always do." With a final brief kiss, he left his beloved and walked up the stairs that led to his mother's private chambers. "How DARE you embarrass me like this?!"Artemis Vega was pacing across the common room of her residence suite, the silk hem of her elaborate gown hissing on the stone floor. Her eyes were narrow slits, and the flush of anger turned the blue triple-moon on her face purple. Kel checked a sigh, "How have I embarrassed you, Mother?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral, "I was simply performing my duty as--" "That 'duty' is no longer yours to perform!" Artemis shouted. "The Pacifica--" "The Pacifica cannot be everywhere," Kel argued, "and they are not infallible. I don't see why I can't--" "The Pacifica are also competent!" Artemis yelled back, "They actually caught the men you were chasing. All you managed to do was cause extensive damage to city property! Again!" Kel opened his mouth to speak, but felt his mother in his mind, momentarily shutting down his speech centers. Don't, she thought to him. Just keep your mouth shut. Then, out loud, she said, as calmly as she could manage, "Kel, I have tried to be understanding. After your father..." she briefly closed her eyes, an expression of pain crossing her face, "died... and you lost your wings, I indulged your heroic fantasies for a time." She shook her head. "It is time to give it up, Kel. Amorlia has no need nor want of Champions. The people are quite happy to let the Pacifica handle such matters now. They--" He interrupted, "But not everyone benefits from the Pacifica," he protested. "The people of Foothill, for example. The Pacifica practically ignore them because they don't have any money. The wealthy receive the greatest protection, while the poor get next to nothing. Father always said that--" "Your father is DEAD!" she screamed. "Clinging to his ideals will not change the way things are, nor will it bring him back!" She blinked tears from her eyes and spat, "And neither will behaving like a second-rate imitation." Kel recoiled as though struck. He felt heat behind his eyes, but refused to let his mother see him cry. Artemis, realizing she'd gone too far, stepped toward him, her own tears visible. Though ageless, the strain of ruling the world for the past hundred years was visible in the lines on her face. Losing the great love of her life ten years ago had only added to the stress. She reached out to her son. "Kel," she whispered, "I'm--" He knocked her hand away and stepped back. "No, mother," he said, his voice cold, "you have made your feelings plain. If the High Queen will excuse me." He turned on his heel and walked out. "Kel, please..." Artemis moved to follow, but a voice from behind her called her back. "Let him go," a woman said. "He was right, after all." Artemis turned around to face her visitor. She was dressed all in grey, with long grey hair tied up in a simple braid. She was neither young nor old, but seemed possessed of an Otherworldly quality. It was that quality, perhaps, that made the eyes seem to slide off her. She crossed the room and took the High Queen by the hand, leading her to a plush couch and bidding her to sit. "What do you mean?" Artemis asked. She had come to rely on this woman, known only as Four, ever since Kael had died a decade ago. The grey woman was a source of incredible comfort and solid counsel. Four stood before her friend, stroking the other woman's long white hair. "He is a failure, Artemis. He is hardly the Champion his father was, yet persists in the charade, even though no one wants him to." Artemis felt she should be offended by this, but was not. "He is my son," she said softly. "He is," Four nodded, "but it is long past time he left your home to make his own way in the world." She patted Artemis on the head, "There are greater concerns to discuss, love. I need you to do something for me." Artemis looked up, "What is it?" "The University," Four said. "It has outlived its usefulness. I believe it would be best for all Amorlia if it were closed." "But," Artemis was shocked by this request, "but the University is the seat of all learning in Amorlia. It is from there the greatest minds of the past century have come." "Yes," Four agreed, "but great minds can often cause great problems. It was undoubtedly a great mind that caused the death of your husband." "You have learned something?" Artemis clung desperately to the woman's skirts. "Something," Four nodded, "but not very much. Still, with the University closed, there is less chance of such a tragedy occurring again. That much, I have learned." Artemis nodded, tears flowing again, "Yes, I see your point. I will issue an order immediately." She looked up at her friend, eyes full of hope, "And you... still believe that..." she swallowed the lump in her throat, "that you can... bring him back? You really can do such a thing?" Four pulled Artemis into an embrace, stroking the legendary hero's hair as she sobbed into the grey woman's skirts. "Of course I can, darling," she cooed. Then she smiled, baring razor-sharp teeth. "Of course I can."
Amorlia: Age of Wonder Page 1