The Rising Sun: Episode 1

by J Hawk

  Mantra looked at him for a second.

  “This object,” He gestured to the crystal piece on the screen. “has to be acquired at all costs. The fate of our entire spectrum hangs over it.”

  The effect of his words left the air in the room to tighten.

  “But what in the world is it?” asked Qyro.

  “And how can it be so important when it’s the size of a blade of grass?” asked Vestra, staring at the screen.

  “I will explain everything to it when you return,” said Mantra plainly.

  “We’d like to go to this task with the knowledge of what we’re going after.” said Vestra.

  “That knowledge will only terrify you.” said Mantra.

  Qyro and Vestra exchanged intrigued looks.

  “Well, if you’re terrified, then we guess it really is important.” said Qyro.

  Galinor stepped forward. “Qyro, Vestra, listen. Make no mistake, this is a very dangerous mission. We aren’t going to hide the truth from you. If you you choose to accept it, it will indeed be a risk. For all of us.”

  “If you don’t feel confident about it, we don’t expect you to attempt it.” said Dantox. He looked at the object in the screen and heaved a quiet breath. “The fact is that we are left with little choice. The danger involved is paramount.”

  “Dangerous mission are my favourite type.” said Qyro.

  “Don’t worry about us, Masters.” Vestra said in a bold tone. “This is done.” She looked at the crystal in the screen. “We’ll acquire this thing and have it brought back.”

  The masters in the room seemed significantly relieved at the attitude the two of them reflected. Some of them seemed to exhale silently, as though having held their breaths for a long time.

  “Very well, then.” said Dantox, looking from Qyro to Vestra. “May luck be with you, our young Nyon.”

  “Who the heck needs luck?” asked Qyro.

  “We don’t.” said Vestra.

  __________

  The two of them were now striding down the corridor towards the vehicle shed to get their hover bikes.

  “What do you think’s going on?” Qyro asked softly, turning to Vestra. “They seemed strangely tense.”

  “I noticed.” said Vestra. “It was hard not to.”

  “And Mantra never hides anything from us,” Qyro’s voice dropped lower. “But this time, he didn’t give us a clue of what this was about. I mean what the hell is this thing, the crystal object that we’re going after?”

  Vestra looked slightly troubled. She sent a quick glance back down the corridor, as if to check if the other masters were anywhere nearby. Then, with a deep breath, she said, “I think something really huge is happening. And they’re obviously trying not to scare us about it. Why else would they send us completely clueless to a mission?”

  “And they’ve gotta be pretty desperate too,” said Qyro, frowning as he calculated the odds. “Desperate enough to send us to something that’s more dangerous than it looks worth it.” He nodded. “I think something really bad’s going up. And they’re doing a bad job of not showing it.”

  They arrived at the door to the vehicle shed, and pushed it open to a completely dark room. Vestra held up her hand, and with a crackling sound, a fire blossomed over the torch hanging by the corner of the room, blanketing its orange illumination over a large room with a group of vehicles. Most of which were hover bikes or boards. Two hover cars lay stationed at the corner.

  At the back of the room lay a pile of small glass cylinders with what looked like a green liquid within them. Vestra walked up and scooped two power drives from the stack, tossing one to Qyro. The two of them picked up a hover board each from the group of neatly lined vehicles. They were designed no different from regular boards, except with a slender, elegant design. Their ink black metallic coverings gleamed menacingly in the light from the torch.

  “Well,” said Qyro, as they exited the room and strode towards the entrance of the temple with a hover board each held by their arms. “Let’s make this one heck of a ride.”

  __________

  Minutes later, the two of them were on their hover boards, ripping through an endless black abyss. Cloaking both of them in large, bubble like layer was a Plasmon shield.

  Vestra felt her mind drift over the current predicament, as the two of them voyaged journeyed to the planet. It was obvious that there was something grave going on. And whatever it was, the masters themselves were clearly unnerved by it … Dispelling the distraction, Vestra brought herself back to focus. It was evident that this was a task they could not fail in. And she intended to ensure that they didn’t.

  The inner spectrum…

  After so long, they were finally exposed to a glimpse of adventure at long last. Vestra remembered the last time she had been sent on a mission to the inner spectrum. And as she did, her mind hovered over to the strange incident that had crossed her in the midst of that mission. And almost unconsciously, a smile touched her lips as that memory flashed past her mind…

  She still remembered his name.

  Ion.

  Two years ago

  Dipping the cloth into the herbal substance, Vestra smeared it over the deep wounds on the boy’s tattered robes and the nasty red gashes running along his exposed skin. He was lying on a straw mat, barely stirring. He belonged to a strange species, with skin that carried a tint of orange. His dense red hair was long and ruffled, falling over the front of his face messily.

  The place was filled with the chatter of the rest of the patients, and the few healers tending to them. Vestra fought back a twinge of concern for the rest of the patients here, lying about this enormous green field. With a scarce number of healers to tend to them. And some of them were suffering from visibly nasty ailments and conditions. Closing her mind to the distraction, she kept focus and smeared the herbal substance over the boy’s skin, which was lined with cuts and bruises.

  A pair of footsteps trotting over sounded from behind her. Vestra turned to see the same aged healer standing behind her. Her concerned eyes ran all over the boy’s body, checking the nasty state of his wounds, and her face softened.

  “That would do, dear.” the aged healer said with a relieved sigh. “He’s better of now than when you’d brought him here.” She looked at Vestra with a warm smile. “Thank you so much.”

  “The least I could do.” responded Vestra. She looked over the rest of the field, with almost a hundred or so patients spread over mattresses all across it. “How are the rest of the patients?”

  The aged woman warm expression was marred by a shadow of anxiety. “We’re doing our best,” She gazed across the field. “But there’re only a handful of healers to assist me, and so many patients.” She ended with a strained sigh.

  Vestra turned back to the boy lying before them on the mattress. After finding the boy in this brutal state, teetering towards death, Vestra had immediately taken him and rushed to find a healer. She managed to reach this field, which was the closest thing to a hospital in this village. As soon as she had reached, the aged healer standing by her had provided an instant remedy for the boy’s wounds. The herbal substance that she was now applying on him now.

  But what the aged woman didn’t know, was that Vestra was applying a bit of her mystical powers into the healing. And it was probably going to be the reason the boy survives, if he did … But no one could know that, could they? Because even if they found a helpful mystic, they weren’t going to loosen the reins of the law for her. But Vestra wouldn’t let that keep her from helping people when it was asked of her…

  A groan sounded from the boy, and the two of them turned to see him stirring slightly. His eyes fluttered open, and slowly, through a blurry vision, found Vestra. She held his eyes for a moment, sensing something deepening within his startling orange eyes.

  “I’ve healed most of your wounds.” she told him.

  The aged healer took a step forward and bent lower.

  “You’
re lucky this young woman here brought you to me in time.” She gestured to Vestra, who nodded absently, stirring the cloth in the herbal substance. “Or else…” The aged woman shuddered. “No other healer would’ve been able to help you.”

  The boy spoke in a cracked voice. “You’re a … healer?”

  “Lucky for you that I am.” chuckled the aged woman. “Whatever it was that happened to you, it was the nastiest I’ve seen in a while. I’d rather not know how it happened, but let’s agree not to do it again, shall we, son?”

  And with that, she turned and walked off to tend to the rest of the patients.

  As Vestra continued to apply the paste of herbal substance to what remained of the boy’s wounds, he fixed his orange eyes on her, looking at a loss for words.

  “You … saved me life.”

  Vestra paused to permit him a smile, nodding. “You’re lucky I chanced past that place when it happened.”

  The boy seemed to drift to thought for a few moments. Then, frowning, he turned back to Vestra and asked, “But … how?”

  A sliver of wariness crept through Vestra. She glanced around her, and then bent closer to the boy.

  “You happen to be talking to a mystic.” she said in a hushed voice.

  The boy’s eyes went faintly wide. “You’re … a mystic?”

  “And I know you’re one too.” said Vestra, nodding.

  “You do?” asked the boy. “How come?”

  She lowered her voice even more. “I saw you fighting them off … Carcasar and the Zelgron. I was in a nearby hill.”

  “And you fought them all off to save me?” he asked.

  “It was easier than it sounds.”

  The boy gaped at her for a second.

  She gazed around the field again, bitten by the same pang of pity for the rest of the patients … perhaps … if she could just use a bit of her powers to help them the way she had just helped save this boy.

  “Hang on for a while.” she told the boy. “I’ll be back.”

  “Where’re you going?” he inquired.

  She glanced around her again, and softly said, “The healers can’t handle all these patients by themselves. Can’t you see they could use some help?”

  The boy’s physical ailments seemed to still hold a clench over his mind: he seemed to work through a daze to comprehend what he had just heard. “So?”

  Vestra gave him an incredulous look. She realised then that he had just come out of a heavy coma, and his lack of speed in processing everything was not out of the ordinary.

  “So? I’m a mystic, aren’t I? Am I just gonna sit here and let my powers go to waste? Not when people need my help!”

  She jumped to her feet and trotted off to a nearby patient. The man was dozing steadily, but his skin was a deathly blue skin. A nasty stage. And he was clearly teetering close to the end.

  Bending down over him, Vestra took in a deep breath. Placing a hand on the man’s head, she felt the heat sting the front of her palm. She realised that he needed a powerful dose of energy to fight whatever was raging inside his body now. Tapping into the reservoir of energy within her, she released it through her palm. Like a stream of clear blue water trickling from a river, the energy flowed into the man’s body. Letting it absorb the vital resource it needed to keep him alive, to win this battle…

  Finishing, she moved from patient to patient. She was making sure nobody spotted what she was doing, for the presence of a mystic among them would be the last thing the people would welcome. But even if that weren’t the case, Vestra wasn’t intending to make a show of what she was doing. It was something to be done silently, like all good things in the world…

  When she was done, she strode back to find the boy sitting up on his mat. His gaze was far off, and he was absorbed in deep thought. There was a strangely dark shadow over his face as he absently gazed across the field.

  Vestra sat down beside the mat again. “Hey, I’m back.”

  The boy’s head snapped around to face her. And as his gaze found hers, something seemed to settle within depths of those burning orange eyes.

  “So tell me,” Vestra said, letting her voice sink again. “What were you doing?” She shook her head. “Look you my be a mystic, but you should know better than to go looking for trouble. There are things in this world that you shouldn’t tamper with. And Zelgron are one of them. Carcasar is one you shouldn’t mess with…”

  “Carcasar?”

  “The warlord of the Zelgron.” she answered. “The one whose eye you gashed.”

  “That thing’s got a name?” asked the boy, his jaw lowering.

  “That thing’s got more than just a name. It’s got a horrible fury.” A quiet shudder crossed her. “Carcasar never forgets a target, never. And for what you did, you’re definitely going to be in his hitlist … I suggest you watch your back.”

  The boy sat straighter, looking unnerved. “You’re saying … he’s gonna be … after me or something?”

  Vestra thought for a moment, and finally said, “I won’t pretend to know … but he won’t forget you.”

  The boy turned back, looking almost rattled. Vestra could see the dread in his eyes after what he had just heard. She gave him a warm smile as he turned to her again. “Look, believe me, there are far better things in this world to be afraid of, than facing something you’ve already faced.”

  The boy frowned absently.

  “How’s it you came by there, when they were attacking me?” he asked Vestra.

  “I was just crossing by, from a nearby village.” she answered.

  The boy raised an eyebrow, looking thoughtful. “Odd to find a mystic at a place like this, in the inner spectrum. What were you doing there?”

  “I don’t live here. I was just here for a mission.”

  The boy stared. “A mission?”

  Vestra scanned her surroundings reluctantly. With a sigh, she said, “You see, I’m a part of a group of,” She paused, searching for the right words. “A group of … crime fighters, you can say.”

  “Crime fighters?” The boy sounded astounded.

  “Mystic crime fighters.”

  “You mean…” he asked, his eyes slightly wide. “You’re a part of a group of mystics who … fight crime?”

  Vestra inclined her head for a moment, trying to scent something in his tone. “Well, yes … I can’t tell you exactly what we are.”

  The word mystics and crime together seemed to invoke a sudden blast of emotions from the boy … Something welled in those orange eyes. Something heavy and raging…

  Without warning, the boy plunged into a story…

  Vestra’s eyes widened slightly, as she listened to everything. Everything about his past. A story that moved her deeply. A story about a beautiful, happy family. Two loving, elderly foster parents. And the two red haired twins that they had adopted. A story of how the savage side of the world had ripped apart the world that he had known…

  He told her of how his foster parents, Marion and Selia, and his twin brother, Eol had been snatched from him. And how the evil face of this world was responsible for everything he had lost. A loss that continued to haunt him to this day.

  As he finished, sympathy welled within Vestra. She felt his grief reach her as well … Drawing in a deep breath, She bent closer and asked in a soft voice, “What’s your name?”

  “Ion.”

  “You’re not alone, Ion.” she said. “We’re all facing it. What you’re going through. It’s called life.”

  “I somehow doubt it.” snapped Ion. “Nobody would have survived what I went through.”

  Vestra shook her head. “I’m not denying it. All I’m saying is that we all face our dark phases in life. If you’re facing a darker phase that anyone else, it just means there’s going to a brighter dawn at the end.”

  Ion stared across the green field, watching the healers prepare to pack up and leave for the day. Half of the patients were dozing on their straw mats.


  “When I was younger,” Vestra said. “I used to wonder why there’s so much suffering in our world. So much pain. Evil. Why, I used to ask myself, were we put here … in a world which brims with chaos?”

  Ion slowly looked at her.

  “Surely there had to be a reason for it, right?” went on Vestra. “Surely there was an explanation for the pain in our world … what was the meaning in our living in a world filled with so much suffering?”

  “I ask myself that everyday.” said Ion. “Still haven’t found it.”

  “Well, I have.” said Vestra softly, feeling a smile touch her lips. “And it’s an answer we’ve all known deep down … all along.” She turned and looked over the wide green field and the dozing patients on the mattresses, a majority of whom she had healed. “The suffering in this world is the reason we’re here, Ion. Because we’re the ones meant to put an end to it. We’re thrust into a world of pain for the purpose of erasing the pain and giving it happiness. Because in the end, it isn’t what you ask of life … it’s what life asks of you, that matters.”