Voidhawk: The Elder Race

by Jason Halstead

  “Captain Silvercloud, if I may?” The speaker said.

  Dexter turned, nodding mutely. Instantly he felt a rush of tingling coolness pass through. His mind felt alert and refreshed and the hurts of his body were gone. “What….”

  The speaker smiled again. “The blessings of the elder race are upon you, Captain. You and your crew… what you have done this day is undreamt of amongst my people, and it causes many of us to truly wonder if we have taken the wrong path.”

  “Dex?” Jenna asked, sitting up slowly and looking around.

  “She is well, Captain,” he assured her. “She should join us. But what I have to say is for your ears and hers alone.”

  Dexter motioned for her and she climbed to her feet, expecting agony. The delighted grin upon her face at finding herself unhurt spread to his face as well. She joined him and once again they showed the elder the rudeness of their passion as they embraced.

  “Come, to your stern,” He said, smiling at them.

  They followed him, each still expecting a stab of pain with every step. When none came they dared to begin to believe it was not a fever induced dream. “My thanks, from all of us,” Dexter began when they reached the stern deck. “My ship could use a touch of your kindness as well, if you’ve any left to spare.”

  He chuckled. “Kindness aplenty, Captain.”

  “What happened to the elves?” Jenna asked, looking up into the void above them.

  “You friend knew what needed to be done,” the speaker said. “He came to us, surprising us greatly, and wanted to know how he could help if only we could grant him one last bit of time with his family – all of your crew.”

  Dexter felt his throat tightening at the talk of Kragor.

  “It was not a deal we took lightly, for even we cannot return the dead to life. What we offered was good enough for him, and he was grateful enough to offer us in return his own solution,” he said.

  Dexter blinked. “You mean… Kragor knew what was going to happen? He… he volunteered to…”

  “To sacrifice himself so that you all would live. All of the elders would live, in fact, and that our first born would be stricken down for their wickedness,” he said.

  “First born?” Jenna whispered almost reverently.

  “We are not elves as you know them, Jenna,” he explained. “We created the elves in our images, our first attempt at shaping life and learning how it worked. The only other beings we knew of were far from us. Dwarves existed, but paid little attention to magic and the ways of the void. There were other races too, though many of them are long lost to time.”

  “You created the elves?” Dexter asked, confused.

  “Yes, we did. And we created many others as well, including humans. Some have faded into the past while others flourished, though they fled when the firstborn sought to overthrow us. Only the humans remained, perhaps our greatest accomplishment though your race is not without its flaws.”

  Dexter barked out a laugh. “I’m thinking of a few flaws that have names right now,” he quipped.

  The speaker smiled again to show appreciation of his humor. “We are not Gods, not as so many consider such concepts these days, merely an elder race. Once we were young and full of zeal ourselves.”

  Dexter could not imagine how long ago that must have been. He shook his head and looked at the speaker. “Rosh?”

  “Rosh has been touched,” he said, glancing at the large man who was standing on the deck and staring into the void even as they spoke. “We gave him a touch of our essence to ward his life.”

  “Touched, that’s a good word for him,” Dexter mused, glancing at the brooding warrior.

  “Go now, my friends, and be well with your lives. I sense that you have put our gift to good use already,” he said, glancing at Jenna’s belly.

  Jenna blushed and looked at Dexter a little uncertainly. “Your gift?” The Captain asked.

  “We granted each of you a boon for rousing us from our slumber,” he reminded him patiently. “You chose to heal your friend. Jenna desired the chance for a family with you.”

  Understanding dawned on him. He turned to gaze at the still blushing elf and pulled her to him. He looked at the elder and smiled. “So we did!”

  He smiled and turned away, walking off the stern while Jenna and Dexter stared after him. She looked at the sun, partially obscured by the buildings of Dasnari, and smiled again. “Stubborn old dwarf really did it, didn’t he?”

  Dexter nodded, missing Kragor terribly all over again but in the fondest of ways. “Aye, they’re together again, forever.”

  “Forever’s a long time,” Jenna said, eyes twinkling.

  “It better be, I reckon it’ll take you that long to make up for not telling me about this gift you got!” Dexter jibed, poking her gently in the belly.

  * * * *

  “Rosh,” Bekka said, coming up behind the large warrior.

  Rosh turned around slowly, entirely uncertain as to whether he wanted to speak with Bekka or not. He noted how her head was fuzzy, her hair nearly an inch long already. It made her look even stranger than usual.“You ain’t shaving your head,” he observed.

  She blushed and looked at the deck. “No… I… Willa wanted me to let it grow out,” she stammered.

  Rosh grunted. “She had an eye for things,” he said, turning back to stare into the void.

  “Rosh… she loved you,” Bekka said, her own voice so very soft and quiet. “You could never know how much she loved you. She didn’t even know. You meant everything to her.”

  Rosh snarled and spun on her. “That right? Then why’d she leave me?”

  “Leave you? Rosh, she didn’t leave, she was lost in the void, she-”

  “That ain’t what I meant,” he snapped. “She left me a long time ago.”

  Bekka shook her head. “She never left,” she whispered. “She loved you; she wanted you to love her. It killed her inside knowing how badly she needed you and knowing you didn’t need her.”

  “I...” Rosh said, trailing off. Need her? He thought. He didn’t need anybody. Now more than ever. People just made things worse. Relationships and women and… and love. All confusing and useless.

  “I told her she was wrong,” Bekka said, staring at him. “I told her you did need her. That there was a part of you missing inside, a part that she fit just right.”

  “I don’t need nothing,” Rosh grumbled, turning away from her to hide his own shame. “I got everything I need right here, don’t need no confused woman, don’t need no damn ship, and I don’t need this.”

  “Rosh,” Bekka said, her voice somehow becoming even softer. “It hurts, I know. I… I loved her too Rosh. I could never have her though, her heart was yours. Please Rosh, don’t spurn her memory. She just didn’t know what to do!”

  “Didn’t know what to do? What needed doing?” Rosh hissed angrily. “Everything was going just fine.”

  “She didn’t know how to tell you she was bearing your child!” Bekka told him in a rush of words.

  Rosh stared at her, his mouth open and no words coming out. Tears ran down Bekka’s face as she stared at him. Rosh turned to look off into the void again, staring for something he knew would never be found. Even if the sun had not burned everything not on an elder ship to a crisp there was no way she could survive more than half an hour without a ship.

  “Rosh! Bekka!” Dexter called from where he and Jenna were walking. “Logan! Xander! Gather the others below; my treat at the tavern!”

  Rosh growled and straightened to his full height, tearing the crushed section of railing he had been gripping with him. He stared at it in his hands, amazed at his own strength even as his rage made him want to tear the rest of the ship apart. He stared at Dexter, hating him for his happiness with Jenna. He hated everyone on the thrice damned ship for caring for him when he wanted to owe no one nothing!

  “I’m done,” he spat out, dropping the ruined section of railing. He turned and walked off the gangplank, leavin
g the stunned crew staring at him speechlessly.

  ####

  About the Author

  Jason Halstead works by day as an IT Manager, developer, and database administrator. In his spare time Jason enjoys spending time with his wife and two children, writing, and powerlifting.

  He enjoys reading and responding to fan mail as well, so if you liked any of his other books, don't be shy! Find him on the web at http://www.booksbyjason.com or email him at: jason@booksbyjason.com.

  Other books by Jason Halstead:

  Voidhawk (Voidhawk, book 1)

  Voidhawk – The Elder Race (Voidhawk, book 2)

  Voidhawk – Redemption (Voidhawk, book 3)

  Voidhawk – The White Lady (Voidhawk, book 4)

  Voidhawk – Lost Soul (Voidhawk, book 5)

  Wanted (Wanted, book 1)

  Ice Princess (Wanted, book 2)

  Dark Earth (Dark Earth, book 1)

  Devil’s Icebox (Dark Earth, book 2)

  The Lost Girls (The Lost Girls, book 1, a Dark Earth novel)

  Traitor (The Lost Girls, book 2, a Dark Earth novel)

  Wolfgirl (The Lost Girls, book 3, a Dark Earth novel)

  Voices (a Dark Earth Book)

  Bound (a Dark Earth Book)

  Vitalis Omnibus (Vitalis, books 1 – 7)

  New Beginnings (Vitalis, book 1)

  The Colony (Vitalis, book 2)

  Parasites (Vitalis, book 3)

  Screamer (Vitalis, book 4)

  Squatter’s Rights (Vitalis, book 5)

  Evolution (Vitalis, book 6)

  Matriarch (Vitalis, book 7)

  Human Nature

  Sex Sells

  Voidhawk – Redemption

  By Jason Halstead

  He stared up at the sky, noticing the way the wispy clouds obscured but did not hide the stars above. He wondered, for a long moment, what he was doing staring at the void and not out there sailing amongst it. A grunt and a scream from nearby reminded him of the present.

  The warrior sat up, dirt falling from his dented and torn shirt of mail. He was sitting in a furrow dug into the ground by a massive stone hurled from a trebuchet. He shook his head and rose, flexing his arm and shoulder as he did so to restore feeling to them. He had been clipped by the rock and knocked from his feet. Others nearby had not fared so well.

  Then again, they didn’t possess the large man’s unique talents. Earned as a reward for service to a race of ancient and powerful beings, the warrior was something special. Something that took more than an army of siege engines to kill. He bent over and grabbed his sword, also a gift from the Elders, and climbed out of the small crater.

  Just in time, the men on foot were fast approaching. The rain of arrows came to a halt, giving the army of King Peter a brief respite before the opposing forces crashed into them. The warrior fought with the strength of a dozen men and the vitality of a hundred. He seemed unstoppable. Only after swinging his massive two handed sword for what felt an eternity did he pause to realize he was completely surrounded by soldiers that bore the livery of their enemy, the Kingdom of Faramyr. They gave him room, none too anxious to feel the weight of his sword upon their brow.

  The warrior breathed heavily, taking the moment to try and catch his breath. He managed it easily, slowing his breathing within a few breaths as his body recovered from the exertions. He stared at them, brandishing his sword and making his foes shrink back defensively. Behind them he heard a commotion as someone pushed through the ranks. They men circling him parted, allowing a soldier dressed in the fine plate of a high station to come before him.

  “You are surrounded, warrior,” he said, his voice strong and powerful. “Throw down your arms and you may live.”

  The warrior spat on the ground, then grinned at him. “Come and get them,” he challenged.

  There was a frenzy of chatter from the soldiers, surprised at his belligerence. “Your forces have retreated, you have been abandoned! I admire your bravery, but do not cause your blood to be spilt in vain. You are a valiant man, I could use you.”

  “Who’re you?” The warrior asked, daring a glance around in hopes of being able to see if what the man said was true. The noise of battle had died down some, he had to admit.

  “General Pilan,” he answered, offering Rosh the honor of a nod. “I heard of your valor and demanded to see it firsthand.”

  “Looks like you get your wish,” The warrior said, raising his sword in front of him.

  General Pilan stared at him and shook his head. “Such a waste. Kill him!”

  None of the soldiers moved. They looked to one another but came not a single step closer to where Rosh stood. The near giant of a man laughed and spat again, this time on the General’s boots. “Looks like you need to be doing it yourself!”

  Pilan scowled at him. “So be it,” he said, lowering his helm and drawing the sword at his side. He raised his shield and approached, lunging at his opponent with the skill of a veteran. The abandoned warrior smashed the blade aside, making Pilan grunt in surprise at the man’s strength. The massive blade was back in position before the General’s, another impossible task given its size and weight.

  Pilan launched several feints, each designed to draw his opponent out of position. The warrior ignored them all and instead waded forward after one such attack and swung his sword towards the General’s head. Pilan ducked under the blow and lunged forward, spearing his blade up into the warrior’s stomach. The blade sank in deeply, having found a rent in the chain mail shirt he wore. The warrior reached down with one hand and grabbed the cross guard of the sword before twisting his body away. The sword ripped free from of Pilan’s grasp, which drained the victorious grin from the general’s face.

  The warrior pulled the blade free from his belly and tossed it to the ground behind him. “What else you got?” he asked, sneering at the General.

  Pilan scrambled backwards, at a loss for what to do. His opponent showed no sign of injury from a wound that should have been mortal. The warrior was moving towards him again, swinging his great sword up and around. Pilan threw up his shield to block and felt the impossible strength behind the blow. The General blinked and looked up, realizing he had been driven to his knees by the blow. He started to raise up when another strike slammed into the shield, sundering it and driving the General to the ground.

  Pilan held his broken arm to his chest and stared up. The warrior took the three steps necessary to stand over him. The warrior grinned down at the fallen General and raised his sword. “Wait!” Pilan called out, pulling his helm off submissively. “I yield!”

  The warrior started his downward plunge, then hesitated and stopped the tip of the blade only a few inches from Pilan’s face. “You yield?” He asked, not sure what to do with the man.

  He nodded, his face white with fear. “Retreat,” the warrior told him. “Give us the field, and you’re coming with me until there ain’t a stinkin’ one of your men on it.”

  The warrior reached down and grabbed onto the metal lip of the General’s armor at the base of his throat. With a single arm he hauled the man up and set him on shaky legs in front of him. “Turn around,” he growled, “and start walking.”

  Pilan did as he was bade, clearly terrified at the thought of disobeying the inhuman warrior that had defeated him. The warrior sheathed his great sword, but drew out a hand axe he kept and made sure that Pilan knew a quick swing would be the end of the General’s life if he gave his captor any trouble. The soldiers melted away from them like butter on a warm summer day. General Pilan frequently called out orders for them to pull back and to give up the field as they walked as well, only finally only the bodies of the fallen lay before them.

  “My armies retreat,” Pilan said as they stood there.

  The warrior watched as they pulled back, some units in an organized fashion but most confused. He snorted and shook his head. “Let’s go,” he said, turning back towards the open field and where the warrior knew they would eventually find King P
eter’s forces.

  “I made good on my bargain!” Pilan spouted.

  His captor growled. “I still see your men here.”

  Pilan closed his mouth slowly, seeing the menace in the warrior’s eyes and the way the man held the gleaming axe. “Tell me warrior, what is your name?”

  “Rosh.”

  Voidhawk – The White Lady

  By Jason Halstead

  “Tie me up.”

  “What?” Bekka asked, pulling her hood back and releasing long tresses so dark they seemed to absorb the light around them. Her green eyes pierced the man who had spoken. “Why bind you, Logan? We know of your curse.”

  “I can invoke it and have some control when there’s no moon,” He said. “This place has two moons! The smaller is always full. I can feel it now and it’s not even risen.”

  Bekka glanced to the sky, searching for the missing satellite. A dockworker had told them it circled the northern sky and rose and fell at least once, sometimes twice a night. “We’ll take care of you.”

  Beside her another woman pulled her hood back to reveal wispy blond hair that nearly floated on her head. She looked like more of a girl than a woman until her eyes were noticed. They seemed to have witnessed a thousand hardships. She nodded and smiled at the priest. “It’s our time to help you.”

  Logan took in the reassuring looks upon their faces and felt some of the weight on his shoulders lift. “Thank you. Both of you. I often wonder what I’ve done to deserve such friends.”

  Bekka snorted, then covered her mouth in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, but you’re both here to help me, remember? I’m the lost soul looking for guidance.”