The Powerless Series: Complete 5-Book Set

by Jason Letts

  “But I can’t save you now,” she whispered to him.

  “Don’t let all this fighting make you forget the beauty of life.”

  The rancher reached across his chest to tug on the fabric of his shoulder. Peeking onto his back, he noticed a blue globule had struck him. His eyes drifted to the ground around him for a moment and then he brought them to Aoi while he nodded gently.

  Tears welled up in Aoi’s eyes and she reached out to try and scoop it off of him. He shrugged her off though and took another look at the gravel under his feet. As he staggered and sat down, Aoi noticed his skin take on a blue tint. Another globule struck Aoi’s side, but she hardly noticed it.

  “Please just tell me one thing. Was the straw bridge real?” she sobbed.

  “You make everything real,” the wise man said, looking into her eyes in a way he never had when they trained together. She felt like she floated above him among the beautiful clouds. As he reclined against the ground and sighed, nothing disturbed his mild expression. Aoi kneeled by him, crying and oblivious to the world around her.

  “I told you I’m way ahead of you,” he smiled.

  Even though it was certain his life would cease eventually, its sudden onset still brought both wonder and surprise to the rancher’s expression. When he slipped away, such a state of peace graced the rancher’s face that it made life seem a shame. Holding his lifeless body, Aoi wondered how long it would be until she followed him.

  Her hands out to shove against the crowd of bodies in front of her, Mira’s feet lost their support and she dropped into the open pit. Her arms caught against the earth’s edge while those around and behind her plummeted into the dark abyss. Shocked, she looked at her outstretched fingers clinging to the loose sand. Her body stuck to the edge, and she kicked her feet in the empty air for anything that could give her a step up.

  The screams of those below tugged on her from the depths. Some came from those who were falling to their deaths and others came from Darmen’s children and elderly, who watched their last line of defense crumble. Now that the floodgates were open, the invaders swooped down from the surface to the jingling ropeways from every angle.

  Feeling her hold slip away more each second, a stifling tension bloomed in Mira’s chest as she lamented her predicament. Calculating the angles in her head, she knew she would drop from the edge and miss grabbing the support that held the ropeways by inches. Worse still, the escalating velocity of the fall would prove too violent for her body to bear before she ever found the bottom. Fear of death quickened her heart, which made her hands sweat and thereby hasten the fall.

  Her eyes just above the surface, she could see only legs scrambling about toward the cavern. They’d forgotten about her completely now their goal lay within reach. Even screaming at the top of her lungs, which she did despite the danger, did nothing to draw their attention. Below, she heard creaking floorboards and the raucous footsteps of those entering the tunnels.

  Through a sudden break in the legs that blocked her vision, she caught a glimpse of the Warlord, who watched from just outside the fallen city. He still appeared torn and tattered, but he had his arms crossed and the same dull fury bent on his grizzled mug. Seeing him only made things worse, as if his presence could take all the credit for her innumerable losses. Mira wished one of them could strike out at him, that any one her friends could get him back for what he did.

  Vern would never see her fall, she thought. He would never know to save her. In truth, she no longer knew if he or any of her friends were still alive. Her head sunk below the surface, which she held with her forearms. Pulled downward, she felt her face break into sobs. She had fought so hard, and it seemed purposeless for it to end like this. Without reason or understanding, the despair further weighed her down.

  Popping up from the riverbank, Goober trotted out through the patchy grass to the funneling army. He noticed a pair of hands clinging to the pit’s edge, and Mira heard the sound of shuffling coming closer. Craning her neck, straining her arms, and looking into the bright sky, she saw his chubby face drift into view. He looked over her at the circular ropeways carrying bloodthirsty pillagers.

  “Goober! Please help me! I’m going to fall!”

  He gazed into her eyes then, making the same depraved, hypnotized look as when she came out of her coma. She knew he could see the finality of death approaching her, and she opened her mouth for a soundless scream. A cold shudder running through her heart and her face grinding into the bare rock, it surprised her that her hands hadn’t yet slipped away.

  But before she lost hold of the loose edge, his hand closed around hers. Without a choice, she latched onto it, ready to take him with her to oblivion. But she felt him pull, lifting her head over the edge. One more heave had her on the ground to the hip. Struggling for breath and in disbelief, she watched him plop down and start to build a sandcastle.

  “Why, Goober? Why didn’t you want me to die?” she gasped, pulling her legs from over the edge.

  “Without the weak, who will destroy the strong?” he said, turning to her darkly and slamming his hand against the tiny hill of sand.

  Standing, Mira cast her eyes over the jumbled mess before her. The Sunfighters and townsfolk were falling over each other to get into the cavern and make off with as much loot as they could carry. Some even quarreled, depending on the prize at stake. But among the agitated crowd, Mira recognized only bouncing blonde curls, and it brought her relief that at least one of her friends had survived thus far.

  Badly battered, Roselyn fought off a group that tried to seize her. Elbowing and kicking, she struggled to keep their hands off her body, afraid to think of what they would do. She sung, but it got drowned out for the noise. Before they pulled her down, she saw the Warlord standing alone in the distance. He wore a degrading kind of grim satisfaction that seemed to be the greatest insult of all.

  Someone yanked on her shoulder, twisting her around painfully. Her feet came out from under her, and strange hands kept her from touching the ground. Swiveling her neck, she caught sight of a long-faced, white-haired townsman, who dug into her pockets as greedily as all the rest. He had dark bags under his eyes and other marks of fatigue and depression that looked so foreign on him.

  “Daddy, not you too!” she cried.

  But her father paid no attention, and in his silence the last of her will and restraint vanished. A coldness settled in when she realized all was lost, and his grievous snarl seeped onto her face. Feeling her splintering foundation snap, Roselyn submitted herself to her last available option. Freeing one hand, she sunk it down her neck under her uniform.

  Removing a stone of blue topaz shaped like a drop of morning dew, she brought it to her lips amidst clamoring hands. The stone felt so soft and spongy in her mouth, and she plucked it from the chain just like a grape from the vine. It settled on her tongue, and in that instant she slipped through the hands that held her and fell to the ground.

  Despite their collective astonishment, Roselyn returned none of their attention. They put her hands through her, grabbing and clutching yet missing her completely, but she was too busy to notice. Some of them marveled at how they could see right through her.

  Walking briskly, she left them and started for the crumbling city of Darmen and the destroyer who showered in its dilapidation. Nothing held her back, not her family, not her home, and not a reason to live. She had already reached the end, and now there was nothing left to do but to embrace it.

  A giddy smile took to her face, and she couldn’t help but giggle nervously as she passed through the raving hordes that pressed toward the cavern. She could feel that squishy stone floating around in her mouth as if it would dissolve any second. Slipping past them, the crowds thinned until only a few stood between her and the reckless monstrosity that had blighted her life.

  Though she set her large blue eyes upon her target, a familiar face stepped in to dissuade her. Looking gaunt and tearful, Will raised his hands to hold back her faint figur
e. Pretending to defend the Warlord amidst the crowd, his actions went unnoticed.

  “Please,” he begged, “I can’t lose you.”

  She stopped in front of him, feeling flushed and anxious. Afraid she would lose her nerve, Roselyn only removed her eyes from the throbbing source of her torment for a second.

  “I’m strong enough, Will. This is my chance to finally do something, to make up for everything we’ve lost.”

  Her words sounded angrier than she meant them, and they struck Will like a slap. His eyelids drooped heavily and his cheeks turned red as if he were suffocating.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “Then love me for this.”

  She marched through him and approached the stern tyrant looming in the sun on the patchy grass. She shifted the stone between her cheek and her teeth. Her song came into her mind, and the emotion of it made her tingle all the way down to her fingertips. His empty eyes watched her transparent form stop just in front of her. She glared at him, full of defiant furor, and opened her mouth to cripple him with her song.

  Will, caught in the flood of pillagers, gawked from behind. He waded through them but seemed frozen in place. Further back, Mira and Goober struggled to witness the confrontation. Of the two, one had a look of awestruck dread and the other of joyous anticipation. Vern and Aoi, on the other side of the cavern, could only just make out Roselyn’s gold locks.

  The Warlord’s arm shot forth, slipping through her transparent neck and lifting the aqua topaz out of her mouth before she could expel her first note. She regained her consistency immediately and felt his foul hand seize her neck. He lifted her off the ground, holding her to the raging sun. Roselyn scratched at his fingers, desperate to get free, but digging and tearing into them did nothing.

  Mira started forward but was held back by the marauders funneling into the cavern. Wailing, she watched her friend writhe in the face of her imminent demise. For a second, Roselyn wished Fortst would appear to save her, but it was now too late for anyone to intervene. She began to feel thankful it would all come to an end.

  “No!” Mira screamed over and over amongst the river of warriors. Straining her eyes, Roselyn watched the blue charge travel down his arm and snake into her throat. In an instant, her head tipped to the side, her fighting body went limp, and it slumped against the uncaring dirt.

  BOOK 4

  THE SUBMERSION

  “We live in a world of transgressions and selfishness, and no pictures that represent us otherwise can be true, though, happily, for human nature, gleamings of that pure spirit in whose likeness man has been fashioned are to be seen, relieving its deformities, and mitigating if not excusing its crimes.”

  James Fenimore Cooper, The Deerslayer

  Six months later…

  Chapter 1: The Savior

  A dark-haired woman with bags under her eyes sat on a stiff log and hunched over a wooden bucket. Reaching her hand into the murky water, she pulled out a tattered gray robe much like the one that covered her. She dragged it along a rack over some soapy bits, careful to keep her elbows clear of her midsection and the being she carried within.

  The sun beat down on her and the small surrounding yard, enclosed by palm trees and bushes that blocked her view of the sea. Their leaves had all gone brown, much like the grass under her feet and the driftwood and foliage that composed the hut just behind her. Even her skin had taken a deep tan that made it blend in with the rest of her dreary environment. Pulling her hand once more from the water, she noticed how wrinkled her fingertips were. They looked like raisins, almost good enough to eat.

  Contrasting with her slow, melodic movements, a chipper squirrel perched on her shoulder and fidgeted about anxiously. It licked its forearms and swiveled its head in all directions from a comfy nest of the woman’s hair. This squirrel was far from the only animal to occupy this small space. A collie languished in the shade at the crux of a few trees, appearing even lazier than a three-toed sloth clinging to the side of the hut. Skipping about among the treetops, a parrot searched for the most comfortable place to ride out the heat.

  The strong voice of a young man called her name, but the woman continued washing the clothes without showing any signs of notice. Not even turning her head to the direction of the sound, she just set the robe to the side and reached for the next one in her pile.

  “Vika!” came the voice again, and this time she tilted her head as if a feather had just brushed her cheek. A face drifted around the side of the hut. His stylish hair had fallen apart and his bright smile couldn’t be found anywhere on his lips, but the face was still Vern’s, and it hadn’t yet lost all of its resilience and pluck.

  “It’s time to go, Vika. Come on!” he urged, coming around and approaching her.

  “What?” Vika replied, putting her hand to her ear and straining her neck.

  Vern leaned down to speak into her ear when the squirrel on her opposite shoulder hissed sharply. Jumping back, Vern put his hand to his chest to catch his breath and recover from the shock. Vika shrugged her shoulder and encouraged the animal to run down along her arm to the ground.

  “I’ll never get used to that,” Vern said. “It wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t try to attack me every time I came around.”

  “He’s just trying to protect his mother is all. That’s one of the things I love most about him,” Vika countered.

  “I guess I should be thankful the rest of your children aren’t like that,” Vern replied, glancing at the collie and the sloth. “What do you think this one will be?”

  “Call me selfish, but I’ve always wanted a human. This one has been cooking in here for just the right amount of time too. I sure hope this doesn’t drag on and prove to be something bigger than what I can hold.”

  Vern helped Vika to her feet, and she steadied herself with one hand on his shoulder. The sound of footsteps treading along the ground drifted to them from the other side of the hut.

  “Let’s get a move on. I don’t want to find out what’ll happen if you’re late again,” Vern said before pursing his lips and shaking his head.

  Leaving the bucket, the robes, and the animals behind, they stepped out from around the hut and emerged onto a dusty pathway. From here, they saw many similarly shabby looking structures organized into rows. A large stone temple stood off to the right, and a few guard towers reached into the sky here and there.

  Joining the flow of traffic, Vern received a sharp knock from another man wearing the same kind of gray robe. He tried to steady himself to prevent Vika from feeling any of the impact. A few black uniforms with the symbol of the sun and the clouds were interspersed within the converging crowd. Together, they passed by the row of dilapidated lodgings.

  In the hustle and bustle, someone stepped on Vika’s foot, causing her to yelp in pain. Vern’s head jerked to spy the offender, but he instead caught eyes with a young woman exiting a sturdy-looking longhouse. She had her brown hair in a ponytail, and her eyes carried an unfakable thoughtfulness even in the presence of so much commotion. When she heard her name, she managed a smirk and began working her way through the crowd toward the voice’s source.

  “Mira!” Vern called out over other chattering and grumbling. He had to call again to make sure she could find them amongst the swelling crowd. “How was morning session?”

  “Aggravating, as usual, but I survived. I don’t know why they want me there if they’re not going to listen to anything I have to say. It’s pretty much got to be the worst gig here,” Mira sighed.

  “I doubt that,” another female voice said from behind them. Twisting to see who it was, they saw a short young woman closing in behind them. She had thick strands of black hair that curved around her face and a pair of noticeable front teeth. Her coal eyes looked bottomless for both their poise and emotion. Vern put his arm around her and she closed her eyes for an instant of solace.

  “I must’ve fallen from up top twenty times today. It’s just unreasonable what they want me to do, and no
matter how much progress I make it’s never enough,” Aoi lamented.

  “I’m sorry, Aoi. I should’ve known better than to complain. It’s just hard sometimes not to let some of the steam out, you know?” Mira apologized.

  “No, I know. Don’t worry about it. I’m pretty much used to it by now,” Aoi said.

  Turning the corner, they came to the entrance of the great stone temple. All of the surfaces were polished, and they sparkled in the sun. People began climbing the broad steps that led into the shady and cool enclosure on all four sides. As Mira and her friends approached, they noticed someone waiting near a pillar at the entrance’s side.

  The only part of this young man that didn’t look strong and lean was his scruffy, knotted hair that sat on his head like an overgrown bush. Despite his tough physique, he kept his head down and cowered, careful to conceal his attempts to scan the crowd. When he finally saw Mira, he raised a hand to wave to her. His slick arm, covered in thick sweat, caught the sun like a mirror.

  “Thanks for waiting, Chucky,” Mira greeted him as they climbed the steps. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m just frustrated is all,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s impossible to get anything to grow with all this sun no matter how much water and shade we give it. I’ll tell you one thing for sure, we won’t produce enough to survive on for much longer.”

  “Don’t mention food,” Vern groaned. “Midday meal’s coming up and I don’t want to think about it. Whoever thought eating would be such a nerve-racking experience?”

  “This place hangs by a thread as it is. It seems like it’ll collapse every day but somehow it just keeps holding on,” Aoi said.

  Most of the people had entered the temple by now, Vika among them. Taking a quick look in, long beams lay across the floor in rows. Most of the space for sitting had been taken and a few Sunfighters stalked through the aisles on patrol.