Rise of Shadows

by Vincent Trigili

  “All hands, all stations, this is Chief Engineer Darius Stanley assuming command. Fall back to engineering and medical. We will make our stand to retake our ship from those two locations,” I announced over the ship’s public address system.

  With the bridge crew gone, I took over control of the ship from the stations in engineering and activated the autopilot with the directive to retreat. Soon we had crew members pouring into engineering from all the nearby sections and more of the foul creatures chasing them. With our remaining forces consolidated, we were able to secure this section of the destroyer, but our power plants were fading faster than I had anticipated.

  “Abandon ship!” I called out and sent the orders out across the ship’s comm system. There was no reason to fight and retake the ship anymore, as it would not get us safely home. Our chances were better in the escape shuttles.

  I led the men that had rallied to engineering and made a push to the shuttle bays. Eventually we got everyone off, well, everyone that still lived. In the end less than a quarter of the crew made it to safety, and the Basilisk was destroyed by enemy fire.

  Ever since that battle I was obsessed with learning all that I could about magic, demons, and the ancient arts. I researched every culture’s history, tracking back all their legends, looking for common features that would give some clue as to how the universe changed so drastically so fast. I could not accept that wizards and sorcerers just randomly showed up here one day. Something must have drawn them.

  My obsession eventually drove everyone I knew away from me and cost me every job I could get after the war. I had taken to petty thievery just to stay alive and spent many a night in jail for it. It was just such a night that put me on that battleship.

  I was sitting in a local pub where less than respectable people would go looking for work. It was a rough crowd there, as usual, but it was the only kind of crowd where someone like me would be welcome. I had a plate of food in front of me, which I ate very slowly, trying to prolong the inevitable, when a group of men came up to me.

  “Hear you’re an engineer?” asked one.

  “Yes,” I said and then added, “with combat experience,” because they looked like the rough type.

  “Perfect,” he said and tossed a credit stick on the table. “Come with us, and that plus much more will be yours.”

  I should have stopped and asked some questions, but the truth was I could not afford the meal on the table, and I was planning to spend the night in jail since I had no place to go. The credit stick they tossed me was more money than I had seen in years, and it hinted at freedom. I took the stick and followed them out.

  We quickly boarded a shuttlecraft and left the station with several other craft. They gave me some combat armor and weapons. At this point, any sane man would have been questioning the assignment, but a life of poverty effectively banishes any such thoughts.

  “One minute till boarding, safeties off, men!” called out a voice on the shuttle’s speakers. I watched my fellow shipmates make obvious battle preparations and decided it would be wise to follow suit. As I was getting ready, I felt the ship slam to a halt, and the outer hatches flew open.

  “Charge!” came the cry, and suddenly I was in the middle of a firefight to take control of a shuttle bay. We had the advantage of surprise so we were able to take it quickly. Instinctively I started calling out orders to men around me to secure the bay until the others could join us, and then I ran to a computer station and pulled up maps of the ship.

  While I was doing that the man that hired me ran up beside me and said, “You want to be chief engineer? Take the men from your shuttle and claim engineering. I will be taking the rest up to the bridge.”

  “Yes, sir!” I said. I knew now that I was in too deep to ask questions. Whoever owned the ship we were taking over would kill me if they got the chance. My best chance for survival was to help my new shipmates succeed in taking control.

  I split my team into two squads and charged towards engineering from two different directions. The route to engineering was a grueling fight. Whoever we were up against was unorganized and primitive in their combat skills, but they were fierce and dedicated. My men were not much better trained, but we had the advantage of momentum, surprise, and my superior combat tactical training.

  Eventually we reached engineering, but the ship’s defenders had anticipated our goal and fortified themselves well. The battle was fierce, and I lost more men than I cared to think about, but we were making progress in breaking through their line, when an old man in a robe appeared behind their lines. He was wearing a shield belt like those that the sorcerers from the Great War used to wear. He raised his hand, called out a word in an arcane language, and sent a bolt of power right towards us. Thinking quickly, I dove behind a pile of debris, which was completely destroyed by the bolt that was intended for me.

  I jumped back to my feet, looked him in the eye, and called out, “Astrapi!” Immediately a bolt of electricity arced from my outstretched arm and into his body, quickly overwhelming his shield. As he screamed in pain everyone paused to look, and I called out, “Charge!”

  That delay was all we needed to take over engineering and kill the remaining defenders. It was not long after that until we got the report that the battleship was ours. We quickly jumped away to prevent anyone from attempting to retake the ship.

  The next month was spent repairing the damage we had done to the ship in taking it over and preparing for our mission. Captain Kerid had dreams of taking this mismatched group of criminals and making vigilante warriors out of us. He wanted to come to the aid of any ship in need that was outside the reach of the Aleeryon Navy. It was a grand scheme, and one I could definitely get behind for a while, just long enough to make some money and pay off my debts.

  That plan would have been great, but less than a month later ghosts attacked the ship. I knew them from my studies, and I tried hard to organize my shipmates to fight them, but the ghosts’ fear weapon was overwhelming, and the crew quickly fell. I tried to make a stand in engineering, but the ghosts turned my own men against me as zombies. I summoned a powerful electrical elemental, which almost completely drained me, but even he could not stand against the ghosts. Eventually the elemental killed all the zombies, and I was left alone with a ship full of ghosts while trapped behind the shield belt taken from the sorcerer I had defeated when we stole the battleship. I was utterly powerless to do anything but watch my elemental destroy the animated corpses of my shipmates while the ghosts pounded on my shields.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Darius’ memory ended there, and I was once again Shadow and back on the Dust Dragon. I looked at him and wondered a bit about what I had just witnessed. “So, what does everyone think?” I sent across our network.

  “He is an outcast, no different from many at Alpha Academy. We should give him a chance,” sent Phoenix. I had to wonder if he was referring to Spectra or Dusty with that comment.

  “He wanted to help police this space. That’s gotta count for something, right?” asked Flame.

  “Darius, your story is definitely interesting, but how did you know my name?” I asked.

  “This is the Dust Dragon. You launched with a crew of wizards a few weeks ago. I assume this is Spectra, but I do not know the good doctor,” he said.

  “That does not answer my question,” I said.

  “No, I guess not; but it is not as if you have kept quiet out here. Everyone is talking about your mission. Captain Kerid was hoping to meet up with you at some point,” he said.

  “That’s why we are out here, after all,” sent Flame.

  “I suppose we have not exactly been quiet,” I said, then an idea hit me. “Come with me to the bridge. I want to get your thoughts on something we are monitoring.”

  “My pleasure,” he said as he followed me out. Spectra fell in line a few paces behind him. I suspected she did that so that if he caused a problem he could not get at both of us at o
nce.

  Once we were on the bridge, I gestured to the screen and asked, “What do you see?”

  He gasped, turned white, stumbled for balance and then said, “It can’t be!”

  “Yeah, that's what we thought, too,” said Phoenix.

  “For twenty years I have searched for proof, and there it is,” he said.

  “Proof of what?” I asked.

  “The last Great War,” he said.

  “You were in the Great War, why do you need proof?” I asked.

  “No, not that one. The one ten thousand years ago,” he said. “It’s all true! I can hardly believe it, but it’s true!”

  “Please, sit down and fill us in,” I said, helping him to a seat. He was still weak, and this was proving a bit overwhelming for him.

  “Sorry, but right there is the proof I’ve been searching for since the day I left the Navy,” he said.

  “You just said twenty years, but you left the Navy long before that,” commented Phoenix.

  “Yes, yes, but it has only been twenty years that I have known about the Great War,” he said.

  “Okay, tell us what you discovered so we can all be on the same page here,” I said.

  “Well, as you know I have been researching myths, legends, and stories of old, looking for something to explain how we got to where we are today with wizards and sorcerers fighting for dominance. I am still missing a lot of information, but the one thing that spurred me on was a comment from the logs on the Dragon Claw. The captain’s informant told him they would find the secret to the powers of old on Arken IV, but at the time no one could explain what that meant, and it was forgotten. Well, whoever the captain’s informant was, he was on to something all right; because this is not the first time magic has been in this realm, nor the first time wizards and sorcerers have done battle here,” he said.

  I would have to discuss with him later how he got access to that log, which I was sure was classified and secure at the time, but for now I was far more interested in his story.

  “Basically, about ten thousand years ago there was one last massive war between wizards and sorcerers. It threatened to destroy all life on Terra Prime, when the wizards discovered a way to fight back that had grave repercussions. They found a way to remove all creatures’ ability to use magic itself, but they had no idea of what the cost would be. They thought they were merely wiping out the sorcerers’ source of power, but it went beyond that to an unimaginable level. They tore reality itself, which sucked all magic everywhere out of the realm. Lesser wizards and sorcerers were left weak and feeble, and the greater magi were destroyed. No one knows what happened to the masters of either side, as their bodies were never found, but from that point on life in the universe had to start over, this time without magic.”

  “Wow,” was all I could respond.

  “That tear right there is one of five wounds in reality that I expected to find, based on the stories,” he said.

  “Why five?” asked Spectra.

  “Each represents a master wizard who took part in the spell, and two of them refused, fearing a bad outcome,” he said. “To be clear, I do not know for sure, but I assume there must be five.”

  “It seems they were right about the bad outcome,” commented Flame.

  “Then how come magic works now?” I asked.

  “Reality has been slowly healing, and it’s finally healed enough for magic to work again,” he said.

  “And the ghosts?” I asked.

  “As reality heals, more stuff of legend will return,” he said.

  “This tear, then - can we close it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know; maybe,” he said. He stood and approached the view screen and then asked, “Those ships out there, are they friendly?”

  “They are all ghost ships,” I said.

  “All of them?” he gasped.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Some color drained from his face again, but once he regained his composure he asked, “You rescued me from a ghost ship, so that means you have a way to fight them. Do you think we could get control of any of those ships?”

  “The smaller ships, sure, but we lack the numbers to control most of those ships,” I said.

  “Well, I don’t mean full control; we would just need some time in their engine room,” he said.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  “We create bubbles in space-time all the time with our jump drives. Perhaps if we created a big enough bubble it would press against that tear and force it closed,” he said.

  “Like some kind of cosmic tourniquet?” asked Phoenix.

  “Yes, exactly,” he said.

  “Interesting idea, but one additional problem we face is that someone is controlling those ghosts, so the moment we close the tear and cut off the ghosts’ route we could have trouble on our hands,” I said.

  “Whoever is controlling those ghosts would have to get here, and I suspect if the tear is closed, it will cut them off too,” said Spectra.

  We talked for a while longer about the plan and the possibility of actually pulling it off. After a while it was decided to trust Darius and try it, primarily because we had no other options on the table. He was still weak from his ordeal, so I decided we would wait another day before making our move.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  The next morning I met Darius for breakfast and asked, “Darius, with your knowledge of history, I wonder if you could help me figure something out that has been puzzling me for a while?”

  “Of course, Master Shadow,” he said.

  I thought about correcting him on the ‘Master’ title, since we had not been using it, but I began to wonder if that was a bad idea. The titles helped instill an environment of discipline that we needed out here. We had not had any problems yet, but it might just be a matter of time. “You said that magic was wiped out ten thousand years ago and that reality has been slowly healing, which is why wizards were able to return. Correct?”

  “That is correct, Master,” he said.

  “That seems to make sense, but it does not fit with what happened. A century or so ago the Black Adders were rounded up and put on Arken IV to study the powers they had, which means magic started to return at least a century, possibly two centuries ago. Then, a year before the Great War, Grandmaster Vydor and six other wizards learned what they were. Over that following year, they skyrocketed in power and eventually defeated the most powerful of all sorcerers in battle. Since then magi have slowly been trickling into the Academy, and even after many decades of real training, no one is remotely close to the level of the masters. That leaves me wondering: if your theory is true, how did their power grow so fast?” I asked.

  “Astute observation, Master. I do not know for certain, but I have thought on that extensively and I have a theory. It seems to me that everything in nature has a state of equilibrium that it strives to reach. The coffee in your cup, for example: no matter how much you tip or jar the cup, the liquid will always try to return to a level, calm state. I suspect that the same holds true for magic. When the sorcerers came into this realm, bringing the power and training they had from elsewhere, magic was tipped out of balance and fought to restore that balance by dumping power into Grandmaster Vydor and the others,” he said.

  “But to be a great wizard takes more than just power, it takes decades of training,” I said.

  “Yes, Master, but blowing things up does not take much skill, just a lot of raw power. Think about the stories of their fights: were they raw power, or intricate skill?” he asked.

  “With the exception of Andreya’s illusions, I guess there was not much in the way of skill,” I said.

  “Yes, Master. It is like this ship. To kill your enemies you just need to put her guns on max and fire. Tremendous power, but no skill involved. Now, as you train and refine your skills you can better direct and control that power, but you do not really need that to get started.” He paused and then sai
d, “Andreya’s illusions are a bit of an anomaly in this theory. All I can point out is that she was one of the first of the Black Adders put in that prison colony, so she had at least fifty years to practice before she met Grandmaster Vydor.”

  “That seems to make sense, but that implies that sorcerers are being created in our realm to balance us,” I said.

  “Maybe, Master, but isn’t it Grandmaster Vydor who famously said, ‘We only pushed back the darkness for a while, it is not defeated’?” he asked.

  “Something like that,” I said. “Then when we seal this hole, will the amount of magic in the universe increase?”

  “Yes, Master. That might allow more magic to flow back into the universe, which could mean more magi, magical creatures, and phenomena,” he said.

  “So this realm will look more like the Korshalemian Realm?” I asked.

  “Master, I do not know. My studies have been focused on this realm only,” he said.

  “I see.” I sat for a moment, studying him. He was much older than anyone else on board, probably at least two centuries old, but years of living in poverty had aged him much beyond that. He had the look of a seasoned warrior who was well past his prime. I knew from reading his memories that I could trust him to tell me what he thought was the truth, but I wondered how much of what he told me was reliable.

  “I have to ask: how much do you trust your interpretation of history?” I asked.

  “Master, I can’t claim perfection, but I believe I have at least the bulk of it nailed down correctly now,” he said.

  “What are your plans now?” I asked.

  “To help you close this hole, Master,” he said.

  “I mean beyond that,” I said.

  “Master, all I have done since the war is run, and I think it’s time to stop, but I do not have any place to go,” he said.

  “Ever consider applying to Alpha Academy?” I asked.

  “Master, with all due respect, I have no interest in spending my days sitting in classrooms rotting away,” he said.