SunRider: Book 1 (The SunRider Saga)

by Hohmann, Rafael

“We-must-continue!” the boy pleaded. “It-will-kill-us-if-we-stop!”

  The golem ducked beneath the destroyed entrance to the Neck, crossed the bridge, and went up the stairs, each long step coming closer. It stepped foot onto the catwalk and the structure groaned. The monster moved again, bending the narrow platform under its large weight. Behind it, Mal'Bal waved his hands forward, either goading or controlling the monster onwards. It took another step—now halfway across. If it came any closer, it would bend down and crush them into paste.

  “Finn!” Goblin screamed.

  The catwalk shattered, exploding downwards as Finn had planned. The golem let out a haunting cry and collapsed into the falling debris, breaking through the roof of a house below and disappearing from sight. Dust rose into the air and the platform Finn stood on shuddered. Far beneath their feet, another smashing noise sounded out, and another. The monster was still alive, struggling in the tight confines of the alley floors. Finn looked to the other end of the newly-formed gap. Mal'Bal was nowhere to be seen. Had he fallen?

  “Come on!” he told Goblin, “Let's find our way around to one of the other bridges. We have to return to the Neck and help out the others!”

  They ran across a small stone path and slid down a rope to the level below. In the distance, they could see citizens and soldiers fighting against Mal'Bal's forces. Finn spotted Quinta, the crazy vendor, charging a score of robed figures. He brandished a stick as a weapon and around him, swarms of blue moths converged on the enemy. Finn could hear screams and Quinta's shouts. “Kill! Kill! Kill! Protect the city, Matriarch!”

  Leaving the scene behind, Finn sprinted through a house, finding a dead-end. Both him and Goblin were forced to hop a window to continue deeper through the city. They landed in a large clothing store with wooden shelves boasting nightwear. The dark room was lit by torches, bathing the place in red light. Like many of the other buildings, this one was abandoned due to the attack.

  “If-we-go-through-that-door-we-might-find-stairs-leading-up-to-the-plaza!” Goblin suggested, pointing to a nearby passage.

  Before Finn could concur, the floor exploded, throwing them across the room. Finn smashed against a wall, crying out in pain. His head vibrated and he couldn't see straight. He attempted to stagger to his feet but tripped and fell back down. Smoke, there was smoke in the air—something was on fire. The torches! The torches must have fallen onto the clothes and wooden shelves. A haunting moan rang out and suddenly the entire room shifted, tilting to the side. Finn rolled and bounced, smacking into furniture and screaming in shock. He fell through a hole in the floor, landing in the store beneath. The place was so full of flames Finn couldn't tell what it had once sold. And being immune to heat didn’t prevent him from choking on the thick black clouds surrounding his head.

  “Goblin!” he coughed.

  Something moved in front of him. Bursting out of the flames came the wooden golem, its body swallowed by uncontrollable fire. It sounded as if it were shrieking. It writhed about, flailing its arms and breaking everything in its path. Finn tucked and dove, dodging falling beams and burning branches, backing into the depths of the room. He spotted Goblin leaning against a shelf. His friend looked dazed and held his mouth open, unable to take in enough oxygen. There was a crash as the golem came for them, a hairsbreadth behind Finn. In desperation, Finn tackled his friend and—without planning to—broke through a window, falling outside. He landed on a wooden platform between two bookstores, losing his breath. Garbage sacks and clothes tangled his feet.

  Behind them, a section of towering stores exploded outwards and the golem reappeared. Debris and furniture rained around them and into the depths of the city. The golem ran to them, crackling and popping as flames ate its body. It’d lost an arm, leaving only a red-hot stump in its place.

  Finn untangled himself and jumped to his feet, running for his life, Goblin at his heels. Spinning down an alley and turning a corner, they came to a bridge leading into the Neck’s pavilion. Far inside, he could see Leeya still battling Wahala. The alley behind them was ripped open as the golem rushed through. It stretched out its remaining arm as if to crush them, its shoulders grinding against the walls. Half its head was crumbling off, black and red wood turning into coal and ash. Its chest was cracked open, exposing a glowing green gem for a heart. It was dying.

  Finn and Goblin ran away, once more entering the shade of the Neck. Behind them, the beast gave chase, so close Finn was afraid Goblin would catch on fire.

  “Split up!” Finn roared out and Goblin complied, dodging to the right. Finn took a sharp left and the monster followed, going after him. Ahead, a bloodied Wahala beat Leeya to the ground with a closed fist. The two women were gasping for air, equally matched. Finn ran past Wahala, screaming. She looked up in time to be bowled over by the golem. Wahala flew backward, head cracking against the ground. She rolled to a stop, robes smoking. Her body didn’t move.

  The golem's legs caved inward, its knees breaking, no longer strong enough to support its own weight. With a final howl, it went down face-first. Its body burst into chunks of burning wood; snapping, shattering, and flying about. Splinters buzzed through the air, embedding into skin. The scorched gem heart shattered upon impact with the hard tile, pieces sliding all over the room. There was silence. Finn fell to his knees gasping. Nearby, Leeya stood up, groaning and rubbing her ribs and cheek. Goblin walked over to them, trying to catch his breath.

  “We-did-it! It's-dead!” he said.

  There was a thump behind them and they turned, finding Altin. Blood leaked from dozens of cuts on his body and he walked as if drunk—yet he still had a crazy smile to his face. “Lost it.” he panted. “The puppet’s up somewhere on floor eighteen.”

  “Impressive.”

  They spun in place, hearts jumping to their mouths. Finn was already clenching his fists, recognizing the voice.

  Mal'Bal strolled forward, looking as if he'd awoken from a nap. His gold body moved smoothly, each joint adorned with a green gem like golem’s heart. He was human, yet something else entirely. Something...wrong. An abomination.

  “I guess I'll fight you all myself.”

  The words had barely left the man's mouth when he was upon them, a blur of movement so fast Finn could hardly follow. The Star-Child punched Altin across the face and there was a crunch of bone. Altin shouted and fell back, blood bursting out of his nose. In the same movement, Mal'Bal spun and kicked Goblin in the chest, sending him flying.

  Leeya jabbed at the man with her spear, yet Mal'Bal wove to the side like a snake, not even needing to parry. Finn dove for his sword, which he'd dropped when the golem first attacked. As he grabbed it, something collided with his chest. It was as if he'd been hit with a battering ram. His ribs cracked and suddenly he was airborne. He hit the ground rolling, coughing, and half-unconscious. Mal’Bal had merely kicked him. His vision blurred as he sat up, holding his stomach. There was a flash of light from where Mal'Bal fought Leeya. Finn cleared his eyes and beheld a magnificent sight: Leeya had activated her bracer.

  It was unlike anything Finn had imagined. Every time he'd seen a bracer activate, it’d split and moved, settling on various sections of the body. Leeya's on the other hand, did more.

  As Mal'Bal swung his scythe at her, the metal of the bracer hovered over Leeya's body, barely kissing her skin, and covered whatever spot was being attacked. Like a living, moving shield. The round plate-sized piece darted to her neck, blocked the blow, and dove to cover her knee. So that was the power of an Exception. No wonder she couldn't be classified like the other Star-Children. She was no Accessory, Half-suit, or Full-suit. This was a fluid, adaptable, armor.

  Mal'Bal stabbed and slashed, creating complicated patterns, leaving the afterimage of strange lines in the air. Yet no matter how quickly or skillfully he attacked, he couldn’t cut Leeya. On the other hand, Leeya could attack back without worry of being injured. She gored Mal'Bal over and over, her spear cutting divots into his golden body.

 
; “Duna-vel-meyoh!” the Star-Child screamed.

  Leeya's spear sunk into Mal'Bal's leg, his appendage becoming liquid. Mal'Bal tipped over, unable to support himself.

  “Bek-mull!”

  The leg hardened, trapping the weapon. Mal'Bal rolled and the spear shattered, its head trapped in Mal'Bal's body. The man spoke more strange words and the spear-tip dropped out. He stood, panting. His eyes gleamed with what seemed to be pleasure.

  “WORTHY!” he roared, face split into a wide grin. Spit flecked his lips. The man looked to the ceiling. “Break the organ.”

  It took Finn a second to realize whom the man was talking to. He followed Mal'Bal's gaze. In horror, he saw the Golden Puppet drop from the elevator opening and land by the DozDum pipes. Finn recalled what Leeya had told him. There’s a magic flowing through the runes, keeping the Upper-District floating. They’re powered by the DozDum Organ. A cold claw of despair grabbed at Finn's soul. So that’s why Mal'Bal had made his way to the Neck. He wasn't interested in capturing Kazma for himself. He wanted to destroy it off the face of Lenova. He was going to drop the entire Upper-District on top of the Lower-District.

  “No!” Finn screamed, picking up his sword and running toward the puppet. Goblin and Altin stood as well, charging the creature. Leeya shouted a war cry and attacked the Star-Child with her fists. Mal’Bal laughed hysterically, letting her blows bounce off his chest.

  The puppet cut into the thick metal pipes, its sharp arms biting deep. It used its arms like axes, its fingers like prying blades. Hacking off a piece, it turned and threw it at Finn, who ducked and tripped, nearly falling on his head. Altin tried to grab the monster's legs but the puppet kicked him away, hitting Altin's already injured face. He collapsed, unmoving. Behind them, Leeya screamed as Mal'Bal liquefied his arms and stabbed at her from various angles. Leeya's suit was only able to block one attack, leaving her right side open. Mal'Bal's sharpened hand jabbed through her skin, near her hip. He splayed his fingers, tearing her flesh. Goblin twisted in place, changing his course for the Lich-Lord.

  Finn, still running to the puppet, threw himself, and slid across the floor. The move was a surprise to the puppet, for it didn’t react in time. Finn skidded between its spidery-thin legs and stabbed up, sliding his blade between where the right leg met pelvis. His sword cracked against a gem serving as a joint and his weapon shattered. Yet the move did something to the creature. The puppet spasmed, writhing and twisting upon itself, its appendages lashing out. It smashed into Finn, and his left arm—the one with the bracer—dislocated as he was crushed against the DozDum pipes. With face pressed against the metal, he could detect a large change of vibration in the magical structure. The hum was far more sporadic, as if losing strength. He moaned in pain but was unable to break free. The puppet continued to twist about him, as if without control of its limbs. Another section of the pipes was cut. Above them, a titanic groan roared out. How had the evil Star-Child known the secret to the Upper-District's magic?

  Goblin rushed Mal'Bal, who loomed over Leeya with bloodied hands. The girl was crawling backward, holding her side and gritting her teeth. Her face was pale, as if she was losing consciousness. Finn tried to break free to help his friends but the puppet continued to pin him.

  Using a chunk of burning wood from the fallen golem, Goblin jumped in the air and hit the Star-Child on the back of the head. The crack was heard across the chamber. Goblin's makeshift club shattered and Mal'Bal fell to the ground, landing heavily. Goblin fell beside him, sprawled on his back and losing his breath. Had he done it? Had Finn's young friend taken out the evil man?

  Leeya was unconscious, her hand falling away from her injury. Blood leaked out freely. Altin was moving, his body turning over. The puppet threw Finn to the side and sliced one final time, cleaving the DozDum pipes in half. Mal'Bal turned around on the floor, holding a glowing shard from the dead golem's heart. Finn was falling, hitting tile, opening his mouth to scream, eyes widening. Altin was rising. The pipes were shrieking. The ceiling was shaking. The puppet was twisting in place.

  Mal'Bal stabbed Goblin through the chest.

  Time froze. Finn couldn't hear anything. About him, pieces of the ceiling rained, shattering against the floor, forming craters. The evil Star-Child rose to his feet and kicked Goblin to the side. He was no longer grinning. His eyes met Finn’s and their gazes locked.

  We're not through yet, you and I. Someday, we’ll meet again. The words weren't spoken, but felt. Fate coursed through them both. Visions of the future. Their bracers glowed, as if acknowledging each other. Two swords raised in salute, ready for a distant duel.

  Mal'Bal spun and ran toward Wahala's fallen form. He picked her up with ease and grabbed his mask, dodging around collapsing obsidian. Three golems appeared near one exit and hoisted their master. Before Finn could shout, the Star-Child was gone, whisked away, leaving behind the afterimage of gold.

  An arm pulled Finn up—Altin. The boy was blinking blood from his face.

  “We must run!” he was bellowing over and over.

  They sprinted to their fallen companions. Finn's dislocated arm dangled freely: useless. As Altin reached Leeya and picked her up, Finn dropped beside his best friend in the whole wide world.

  Goblin's eyes were closed. Waves of blood soaked his shirt and he didn’t move. Gone. Finn screamed his throat raw, feeling heat emanate from him unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Rage hotter than the Slaglands wanted to tear free, wanted to consume him, control him. But he couldn't. Not yet. Not now. He had to escape. He had to take Goblin with him. He couldn’t leave him there to be crushed by the collapsing city. With adrenaline rushing through his veins, Finn lifted Goblin with one arm, holding him over his shoulders. His body shook, wanting to collapse, his legs threatening to give out. He gasped, gritted his teeth, adjusted his grip, and raced after Altin.

  He didn’t know how he had the strength. Didn't even care. He only focused on putting one foot in front of the other. His steps were a monotonous droning chant. Escape. Escape. Escape.

  He ran across catwalks and bridges, citizens and enemy alike fleeing around him, shouting in terror. Behind them, the connecting tower caved inwards, throwing debris and dust across half the city. Shrieking stones, the size of city blocks, spun in the air and fell, smashing and rolling around them. Entire streets were obliterated. Towers containing homes and businesses collapsed against each other, flattening people in the alleyways like two doors closing shut against a bug. Finn ran faster than ever before, his lungs working to a point of near bursting. Goblin’s body bounced and slid along his back, tottering on the edge of falling off. Finn could see the distant Eastern gate—the only free exit. Crowds surged toward it, fleeing for their lives.

  Altin changed his course toward a nearby stable where horses buckled and whinnied, terrified. Citizens were grabbing at them and jumping on their backs. Men fought men for a chance at the animals, neighbors and family turning on each other, fear blanching their faces. In the confusion, Finn and Altin found a gap to the back of the stables. Behind a shut door were two forgotten plow-horses: a gray filly and a brown mare. Putting their friend's bodies across the animals, Altin and Finn hopped on the saddles. Finn had never ridden a horse before, yet instinct took over. Following Altin's lead, he grabbed the reigns and whipped them. The beast took off at full sprint, pushing through the crowds and back into the streets. Panicked citizens grabbed at Finn’s shirt and he verged on toppling off.

  Breaking loose, they made it to the main alley and rushed through the Eastern gate, tearing out of Kazma. Around them, people cried and shouted, running with arms outstretched, reaching for life as if it was escaping them. Within under a minute it happened.

  The Upper-District broke apart, tipping and coming down with a haunting roar. The walls which held the carved runes imploded: the destruction of a powerful magic spell, the death of a city. With the boom of finality, the Upper-District hit the ground and Kazma was obliterated. Earthquakes forced the ground into a
bounce, splitting earth. Waves of dust swept out like curtains across the land, turning Lenova into a place of shadows.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:

  Upon the Ruins

  —The practice of cannibalism was purged, city by city, throughout the first millennium of the Economic Era. Either by sword or diplomacy, the King and his men went forth putting a stop to the primitive act. Placing trade routes and teaching agriculture, the King helped civilize vast lands across Lenova that were once wild and had been so for thousands of years.—

  -Lenovan Economic History Vol 4, page 457

  All was still. The world no longer moved nor battled itself. The sounds of collapsing rock and the screams of death no longer rang out. Blood on skin had caked dry, forming thick crust. Thirst had been intensified, demanding with more strength. Body had no energy, but instead screamed as every muscle contracted, tightening into spiraled knots. Wahala opened her eyes.

  Smoke and dust clotted the air, darkening the noon sun. She’d been unconscious for a while. Surely the battle for Kazma had finished and since she was still alive, the cult had won. Yet… she was still alive. Why was that? Had she been saved? Heavy footfalls answered her and she turned her head, feeling her hair drag along debris. She was laying on a collapsed street. A shadow hit her face and covered the sun. She blinked. It was Mal’Bal. She croaked, her chest and lips trembling.

  “You live.” his voice spoke out, “by my decision.”

  Wahala tried sitting up but her body refused to obey. It twitched and rolled on its side, flopping like a food sack. In a move she didn’t expect, Mal’Bal crouched and lifted her head and neck, propping her on a flat stone. He gazed into her eyes and they stared at each other. She was sure her weakened state shone clear to him. In turn, he was unreadable. His eyes reflected only controlled madness. Mal’Bal stood and turned away, looking about him with a sigh. Wahala studied the rubble: Kazma was no more.