Ignoring the sword for the moment, he hurriedly pushed back his chair and jumped to his feet. He hurried to his window that looked down on the Hatchery’s launch deck to see who was arriving.
The Hatchery was how everyone among the Jenukai Chosen referred to Jenukai Keep. It resided at the very top of Jenukai Fortress, two thousand feet above the Gaelarian capitol. It housed every single dragon that had ever been bred for Gaelaria’s armada. In its center was The Green, where a four-hundred-yard strip of grass that served as an area for exercise for the Jenukai Chosen and a launch and landing strip for the dragons resided.
To the north bordering The Green were the barracks and apartments for the Gunners and officers’ families. Those apartments were four stories of spiraling brick towers that looked more than a little out of place within a strictly regulated military facility. Children of the Jenukai Chosen were often seen sneaking onto The Green to play and get peeks of the dragons. Making it look even more domesticated, the wives strung the windows with laundry lines. Even smoke hung lazily from chimneys, and the smells of cooking drifted down from the apartment windows even at this early hour.
To the south was The Hatchery itself. It was a gargantuan cave-like structure where the dragons had originally been housed in giant hangars. The Hatchery was also where breeding, Linking, and medical services for the dragons took place. The breeding had been wildly successful lately, and Gaelaria’s armada had been bolstered dramatically in a short time. It was so successful that Landran had been desperate to find housing for all of the hatchlings.
Not long after he had been maimed by the Duncar attack and unable to continue as a Gunner in the Jenukai Chosen, Arius had promoted him to Keeper. Technically, Keeper was a rank even higher than General in the Gaelarian army. The promotion had made Landran unofficially the second highest ranking member in the military; behind only Arius. The Keeper’s job was to oversee every aspect of the fleet. Landran oversaw tasks from breeding, Linking, and feeding of the dragons to drawing up aerial combat strategies for the upcoming invasion.
Landran had been in completely over his head from the start, having no idea of how to manage such a momentous job. The few hundred hangars in The Hatchery had filled up in a shockingly short time, which left more than a thousand dragons homeless. The Gunners had been forced to take their steeds and find refuge out on the plains surrounding Jenukai City. That left the majority of the armada exposed beyond the city walls and open to attack from Dantron’s own fleet.
He was used to being a soldier, so more often than not he felt inadequate to the tasks that were laid before him. As a soldier, someone always told you what to do or where to be. Your life was always strictly regulated to the point where you barely had to think for yourself. Landran was no automaton, but he had become comfortable in his systematized existence.
With the power of his position came responsibilities he never would have been able to foresee. The war loomed threateningly just over the horizon, and the catastrophic pressure that had been heaped onto his shoulders wore on him like nothing he had experienced. As a result, he had succumbed to terrible anxiety and sleepless nights. He took to pacing The Hatchery endlessly in the hours before dawn, trying in vain to come up with a solution to his problems. As if that weren’t enough, Kania had come to him with the news that she had been promoted to Second Voice.
Once Kania had told him that she would be joining the Circle of Seven, something had snapped inside of him. That was when the sword had started speaking to him. He had heard people speak of diseases of the mind before, and he feared that he had been stricken by some kind of madness. He did his best to hide it, but it was becoming more difficult to hold it at bay. As of late, it was like trying to dam a flooding river with paper. He knew there were times when Kania heard him muttering to and arguing with the sword.
As if to emphasize his fears, the blade laughed crudely and began to taunt him right then.
“Your wife will make such a pretty corpse, don’t you think? Or do you think she will look like some grotesque leper when the Circle’s magic has consumed her? Hmmm, that makes me wonder. Will you still want to fuck her if her skin begins to fall off of her bones and she turns some ghastly shade of green?”
“Shut up!” Landran roared in response. He began to tremble and sweat again at the sword’s heinous interrogation.
“Oh, do lighten up. If you want to stick your prick into a living corpse, who am I to judge? Do you see a cock on me, Landran? Although I could penetrate her far better than you ever could. Think how fun it would be to use me to ravage her many fine orifices.”
“You don’t know anything about my marriage! I will love her no matter what!”
“Who said anything of love? You don’t love those Healers, and yet you rise to the occasion for them on our nightly excursions.”
“You promised we wouldn’t speak of that,” Landran whined, becoming sick to his stomach.
He hadn’t eaten yet that morning, but if he had, he was sure it would have come back up on his desk at that very moment. He didn’t like to dwell on the terrible things he’d done afterwards.
“Don’t be so droll. It’s all you think about and so I have to hear a great deal about it. I hear all of your useless thoughts, whether or not you choose to ramble them at me. I live in that pathetic little brain of yours, or have you forgotten?”
“You are only a delusion.”
“I’m as real as you make me, Landran. You take my advice regarding the witches and you then go out, rape them and then cut them into tiny pieces. Would you tell someone if you were caught that you were heeding the advice of an inanimate object? How would you describe me to them, I wonder? Would you say I was a voice inside your head, or a friend?”
“You are not my friend!” Landran whispered shrilly. He would never admit aloud that the psychotic and murderous weapon was the only friend he had.
“Tsk, tsk, liar. I know how you really feel about me.”
At that moment, Kania walked into his office, the last person he would have wanted to confront. The sword stopped tormenting him in order to listen. With its voice gone, he was able to really look at her and appreciate how much he missed her. He also couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked and how much he needed her. And yet she couldn’t be a more unwelcome sight to him in that moment.
Involuntarily Landran reached to embrace her, but he snapped his hand back and adopted a cool expression that she returned in kind. He knew her well enough to see as he searched her eyes for a clue as to how she felt. It was there and gone in a split second, but Landan saw it. She was in terrible pain, and his attitude towards her was the root cause. He could sense a desperate pleading for Landran to acknowledge her and to comfort her, but he steeled himself. He refused to give her the solace that she sought from him.
Kania knew she would get nothing from him in that instant and adopted the stately guise of the politician she had become. “You look terrible, Landran,” she stated.
In the throes of the argument he’d been having with the blade, he knew she was right. He didn’t respond, though.
“Fair enough. I see that you have been too engrossed in speaking with your… toy. You have obviously failed to realize that your brother has just touched down on The Green. See that he gets this note. It’s of the utmost importance.”
She practically threw the envelope at him, turned on her heel, and stormed away. Landran didn’t try to stop her, and he died a little more inside as he watched her go. Trying to compose himself, he strode to the window to see that Kania had been right about Arius’ return. He was dismounting from Alrukar at that instant.
His half-brother was a spectacular Gunner and was a natural in the saddle, like he had been born to rule the skies aback the raging storm he had aptly named Alrukar (Shadow Stalker). He also couldn’t help feeling a touch envious at the fact that Arius had been in the field recently on an important mission of some sort for the Circle of Seven.
It also appeared that A
rius had brought friends home with him. Circling Jenukai Fortress were dozens of Warhawks, the deadly yet beautiful airships belonging to the Raachon faction of the Maji. Not only that, but he saw Sunriders, which were the Korii equivalent. He watched in awe as they ascended Jenukai City’s walls in the distance. Even more curious were the dozens of smaller figures surrounding the airships. If this was no invasion force, it could only mean one thing. Arius had won over the Maji, and they would fight alongside the Gaelarian’s in the terrible days ahead.
“Our discussion is not over, Landran,” The sword noted. “We will plan our festivities for the evening. Now go be a good boy and pretend to do your brother’s bidding instead of mine.”
Putting on his mask as Keeper, Landran went to hear how Arius had won them these new allies. Once he had descended the steps from his solar and emerged out onto The Green, he watched as a groomer was leading Alrukar off to the stables in The Hatchery. The massive Black dragon ambled clumsily along in his wake. All the grace and splendor a dragon displayed while airborne was nullified completely once forced to rely on their four legs as opposed to their wings and air currents.
It seemed Landran wasn’t the only one ready to meet with Arius and hear his news. His Guyver guards Hunter and Davin strode out of the barracks looking like mirror images of each other. Tall, blonde and lean, they wore identically grim expressions as they were the first to reach Arius. When Landran got within earshot, he heard them addressing his half-brother in stern, chastising tones.
“And why weren’t we told of this excursion?” Hunter practically spat.
“Northern Calrisan is a hostile region, Sovereign General. It was foolhardy and reckless to go there without us, sir!” Davin said directly on top of his brother’s statement.
“Jenukai’s Wings, man! Can’t I even set my pack down and get something cool to drink before you two start in on me?” Arius shoved his pack into Hunter’s chest and ruffled his hair. He winked at Landran and shouldered Davin back playfully. Both twins had the good grace to look abashed, but their stubborn expressions won out after they exchanged blushes.
“Come on, you three. I want you to help me welcome the Maji and the Aernilles.”
It turned out that it wasn’t just the Maji that had been won over. The Aernilles arrived on their crescent-shaped discs, donning the curved blades that they would strap to forearm harnesses.
It was quite the procession. Neither faction wanted to be outshone by the other, so the Raachon and Korii had brought a thousand troops apiece and twenty airships each. The Maji were definitely staunch about propriety as Arius introduced Landran and the twins to a bevy of officers and young up-and-comers in both factions. They smiled, shook hands, and exchanged pleasantries for well over an hour with Sergeants, Lieutenants and Under-Lieutenants, Banner Generals and Chief Executive Assistants as the airships docked and unloaded all the Maji onto The Green. Thankfully the Aernilles weren’t as stubborn about formalities. They were a shy lot and simply wanted to be out of the way as soon as possible.
The sun had risen a considerable amount by the time the arduous greetings had concluded. Servants arrived in droves and began to usher the Maji and Aernilles off of Jenukai Keep and down into the depths of Jenukai Fortress so they could make themselves more comfortable. Arius had just begun to describe how taxing gaining the Maji’s allegiance had been when Xavian and Rotu appeared suddenly, circling in for a landing. The bell sounded once, sending the familiar tremor through the Keep.
As Rotu touched down, it became evident something was wrong with the brooding general. He sat slumped in his saddle, appearing to cling to his mount more than a bit precariously. Dismounting was clearly a chore for him as he merely dropped down from his saddle, landing gingerly. The groomer who came to retrieve his Blue dragon offered an arm to Xavian but was shooed away rudely instead.
“Let’s see what this is all about,” Arius said in a grim voice as he ran his hands through his hair. He did this often when he was vexed or worried.
Xavian, in his usual all-black garb, looked bedraggled as he limped towards them. His jet black hair was of course windblown, but he looked exceedingly gaunt when compared the last time Landran had seen him. The man enjoyed his solitude, so it wasn’t at all strange for the former mercenary to disappear for elongated stretches. That being said, he had never returned in such a state of disrepair before. By the time he reached them and held out a gloved hand to Arius, clasping forearms he was noticeably out of breath. He nodded to Landran, Hunter and Davin in turn.
“And where pray tell have you been?” Arius inquired.
“Long story,” Xavian grunted back.
“Care to enlighten us?” Arius asked, his tone suggesting this wasn’t a friendly request.
Landran knew Xavian to be a man of few words, but the soft-spoken general launched into a fantastical tale that covered everything from enchanted arrows, to monsters from The Core, to Joran and Wanderers. Arius’ complexion had turned decidedly paler as Xavian concluded his telling.
“What is it?” Landran prodded, displaying the pretense of actually caring. Sometimes he had to remind himself that he had to keep up appearances.
Arius didn’t blink. He just stared off into space for a moment before shaking his head fiercely, as if in savage denial of something before he answered.
“This can’t be ignored. You’re sure those were Slayers?”
Xavian nodded.
“Those Slayers were that far from The Core?”
Again Xavian nodded.
“Prophecy…” Arius didn’t bother to elaborate, so it could only be assumed that he was referring to the Jenukai Prophecy that he was unwittingly attached to. He began to pace and mutter to himself, running his hands through his auburn hair constantly.
Landran had almost forgotten the letter that Kania had given him. He looked down and saw the seal of Dara, of the Circle of Seven, and his and Arius’ mother.
“Mother left this for you, Arius.”
“What does it say?”
Instead of answering, Landran handed it over, and his half-brother tore it open and began reading. Arius’ face shifted from outright shock to blatant rage as he perused the letter. He crumbled it, tossing it to Xavian.
“What’s the matter?” Xavian asked, seeing the ashen look Arius had adopted.
“See for yourself,” Arius growled, his voice tinged in bitter disgust.
Xavian caught the letter and opened it while Landran peered over his shoulder to see its contents. Etched on the page in a flowing, elegant script were just three words, but they were enough to bring a fresh wave of anxiety upon him.
Axion has fallen.
Chapter 18
Arius trailed his hands along the tops of the tall wildflowers that grew in the plush meadow. The alien-looking flowers represented every hue. Between the stunning array of color and the innumerable insects in the air, it was a barrage to his senses.
It was always a wonder walking into Razmuson’s chambers. You never knew what breathtaking sequence of nature you would find there. Scanning over the wildflowers, a clump of black amongst the carpet of blooms drew his eye, and he made his way towards it at a ground eating pace. There in the copse lay Xavian with his hooded cloak pulled over his head.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Arius pronounced, prodding his seemingly unconscious under-general gently with the toe of his boot.
Xavian grunted noncommittally and shifted onto his side. After a moment when it became clear that Arius wouldn’t leave, he pulled his cloak down revealing bloodshot eyes. His voice was haggard and strained when he replied.
“Go away, Arius. I’m in no mood for your ramblings.”
At any other time Arius would have acceded, leaving Xavian to his brooding, but he was in no mood for his sulkiness just then.
“We don’t have time for this, Xavian! You’ve been hiding here for almost two days now. Dantron struck the first blow, and I refuse to sit idly by. You’re acting like some woman trod a
ll over your heart and shat on it for good measure. Get off your miserable ass! And yes, that is an order!”
The blood rushed to Xavian’s face at the comment, and he scowled, pushing himself roughly up onto his feet. He settled himself literally nose to nose with Arius. Both men were tall and imposing figures, and it was clear neither would be backing down from this challenge. Whereas Arius was broader of the chest and shoulders, Xavian was wiry and taut like the bow he carried.
“Back away, Xavian,” Arius grunted in a dangerous tone through clenched teeth.
When his under-general didn’t comply, he fiercely shoved him in the chest with two hands. Xavian stumbled back a couple of paces and raised a fist while he advanced back as if to strike Arius.
“Now, now, gentlemen,” Razmuson interjected almost lazily. “There will be none of that while you’re in my chambers.”
Arius tore his eyes from Xavian, glaring at his Master instead. The difference of how Razmuson exuded himself in public and how he lived in private was contrasting to say the least. Before the masses, he was, for lack of a better word, pristine. He was a trendsetter in all the current fashions, and he had an immaculate reputation as an aristocrat. Yet here he sat with his legs crossed underneath him in the soil donning a robe that was almost as vivacious as his surroundings. His golden hair, which was usually slicked back with oil, was now haphazard and had bits of random foliage in it. A week’s worth of scraggly beard stained his cheeks, and he was munching on a pile of mushrooms that were a blinding shade of fuchsia.
“Sorry, Raz. I didn’t see you there,” Arius muttered, returning his smoldering glare to a seething Xavian.
“Fancy that,” Razmuson yawned, stretching languorously. He was lying down, propped up on his elbow. He sat there studying the two of them with a bored expression. After a moment, he sighed in annoyance. “So my two star pupils wish to fight one another?”
From somewhere in his robes he produced a wooden pipe and a pouch of sensimilla. He packed it, and with a snap of his finger he conjured a tiny green flame above his thumb. Raz took a long pull and exhaled, producing a series of impressive smoke rings.
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