SunRider: Book 1 (The SunRider Saga)

by Hohmann, Rafael

  The edge of Finn’s lips curled in a smile. The man’s strange clothing and exaggerated facial expressions were disarming. The way the man spoke made Finn want to laugh. This Star-Child wouldn’t hurt him.

  “I miss the sea, I do. Anyways, so who might ye be, Finn? Are ye friend, or be ye a foe? Ye near sent us into a battle-flurry. We thought we were being attacked. Took all the trust I had to allow ye inside.”

  “Friend, not foe.” Finn replied. “My group and I come to seek shelter with the Coalition.” Upon remembering Goblin and Leeya, Finn jerked up. Salt tried to hold him down. “Blast it, boy! The ship ain’t sinking! Calm yerself!”

  “My friends! Do they live?” Finn spluttered.

  Salt patted Finn’s knee, grabbed the loaf which had flown down his blue coat, and handed it back to Finn, tearing a chunk off for himself. “They’re getting the same treatment ye did. They’ll all live.”

  “They will?” Finn choked out in relief. “How?”

  “With nearly a hundred Star-Children, we have quite the variety of powers, Finn-for-Finn’s-sake. Yer friends’ wounds will mend like the hearts of the many wenches I’ve left behind.”

  “Nearly a hundred you say?” Finn spluttered. That many Star-Children—and all of them good? Finn wanted to dance.

  “Where do ye hail from Finn?” Salt asked, his tone becoming serious. “And don’t worry, my friend. It would be best if ye told me the whole story—without leaving anything out. Ol’ Salt the Sea-dog here is as reliable as the tide.” He leaned in and took a sip of Finn’s soup. “Even tell me the bits about yer bracer-vision.”

  Finn was shocked at how blunt the man was. They’d barely met and already Salt was asking him to explain himself. How could he yet trust any man well enough to speak of his bracer? Or even more so, the vision that had come with it?

  “Let me see my friends and tell me your story first, then I’ll consider telling mine.”

  “Finn, yer a stranger to us. Ye could be attempting to kill us or gain dominance over the Coalition. Yer not the first Star-Child to come into Jakitta, riling us up, thinking they’re clever.”

  “I came under no false pretense.” Finn argued. “Plus, you have power over my friends. I seek no harm to you or your people.”

  Salt smiled and tapped a finger against his nose. “Yer name precedes ye, Finn. I merely jest.”

  “You already know me?” Finn asked in confusion.

  “Know of ye. Them Tulian Missionaries go around the land, speaking of a righteous Star-Child who crossed some stream or other. They sing happy praise of one called Finn. Unless there’s another bracer-wearer with the same name, I take it to be ye.”

  Finn didn’t know what to say. The people of Pittance spoke of him? Had he made that much of an impact with them?

  “How have you gotten word from Tulian Missionaries?” Finn asked.

  Salt winked. “My Star-Children come from all across the land. They have connections. I have connections. We have support from a few Lenovans—not many, mind ye, but word gets around. So ye crossed a stream huh? Ye sure yer not a sailor?”

  Finn shook his head. “So is it enough to earn your trust?”

  Salt chuckled. “It wouldn’t have been enough but for the stories of three Star-Children who fought to try and save Kazma. Some hate ye for not actually saving it, but many recognize yer attempt.”

  Finn again was at a loss for words.

  Salt beckoned him to stand. “Come, I wish to show ye Jakitta. Don’t mind the others. Many are hostile to those they don’t know. With word of ye spreading, some may treat ye with even more unkindness.”

  “I thought the Coalition was full of friendly Star-Children.”

  Salt scoffed. “About the only reason we don’t kill each other is due to me bein’ so handsome. The others can’t get enough o’ me appeal. If I was but a common, ugly man such as yerself, Jakitta would be a lake of blood.”

  Finn stuffed a large section of bread into his mouth, not knowing how to react to Salt’s comment, and left the room after the man, stretching his legs. He noticed his boots had been replaced with comfortable loafers. Out of the door, Finn found himself outside, breathing in misty air. Around him were dozens of moss-covered log cabins. In the distance, Finn could see a small grove of dark-green spiky trees. Near them was a large dip in the ground—as if a hole had been dug. He could hear shouts and laughter coming from within it. A dark-skinned man wearing lenses on his face walked in front of them, leading a goat to a nearby cabin. Salt pointed to the cabin and nudged Finn.

  “In there lies yer pretty friend. She’s being healed now.”

  “What’s with the goat?” Finn asked.

  “That man there, Petreamus, is a Star-Child with a unique power. He was the one who healed ye. He’s already taken care of that long-haired blondie too, but the other two—they need more mending.”

  “How did he take care of us so fast?”

  “He sacrifices animals in place of yer friends. The injuries are passed from human to beast. Don’t ask me the science of it, there is none. It’s a terrible thing, it is. Us Star-Children have war powers, Finn. Seems even the healing is meant for hurting.”

  Finn closed his open jaw. He’d never imagined such abilities to exist. “Will he be able to take care of Leeya and Goblin?”

  “That be their names? Well, he better find some mighty big animals for them. I heard the worse the injury, the more exuberant the sacrifice. Told me once, he did, of a time someone near to him was clean-cut in half—don’t know how or why. He took a team of Convoy Bears as sacrifice—mind ye, they be large beasts. It didn’t work so well. The bears all died and so did the individual. At least he tried. Guess ye can’t heal all injuries, right?”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” Finn groaned, gritting his teeth.

  “Oh. Sorry about that.”

  “May I see them?” Finn asked. But already Salt was shaking his head. “Ye may see the blondie, but not them other two. They need to be left well enough alone for now.” Salt paused. “Say Finn, that younger boy… he ain’t a Star-Child.”

  Finn grew defensive. “He’s my friend. If you kick him out, I’ll leave with him.”

  Salt nodded. “Loyalty. I can respect that in a man. If the boy—Goblin—lives, he can stay as long as he’s beneficial.”

  Finn smiled, calming down. “Good. I didn’t want to choose between the two.”

  Salt led Finn around a group of cabins, some were small homes and others large dorm-like bunkers. Few of the buildings were made of stone and clay; the majority of Jakitta was wood. Between smoke-spewing chimneys he caught glimpses of the tall fort-like walls of the town. Had Salt been the first to find him outside, drenched in the rain?

  Salt scratched his stubble. “I was a merchant sailor. Still am, deep in my heart. I roamed the SeaLake beneath Lyria and its many vast rivers for nigh on twenty years. I was near shore on a small skiff, fishing solo for Pepper-Guppies. Mind ye, them dimwitted fish only come out at night to feed on moonlight—strange animals they are. Suddenly my boat exploded, throwing me overboard into the waves. Something had crashed through the vessel, sinking it and taking me with it. Shaking my head, dazed, and with my fishing pole halfway up my—”

  Salt paused and looked sideways at Finn. “Well, it’s best to not go into details. But anyways, t’was a bracer. I had been chosen.”

  “You were made a Star-Child.” Finn spoke.

  Salt huffed. “That I was. And soon enough, so were many others all across the vast reaches of Lenova. Rumors of powers running rampant spread across the land. Uncontrolled death. I couldn’t allow my world to fall apart. I formed the Coalition as a means to bring in as many Star-Children as possible before they turned wild. We try to get them before they first learn to use their power. That way, when they go stir-crazy from First-Use, we can guide and coax them back into normalcy. Sadly, there have been many who’ve fought or turned on us. Yet we still spread the word throughout the lands in hopes those l
ike ye and yer friends will show.”

  “Those that fight you, or those who become rampant, what happens?” Finn asked.

  Salt grew somber. “We do the only thing we can. We end the threat. Whether they be Accessories, Half-suits, or Exceptions. Thank the waters we haven’t faced any Full-suits. I’m sure we could perhaps defeat one, but I might lose most of the Coalition.”

  A question burned in Finn’s throat. “And what of their bracers?”

  “Perceptive ye are, boy. I think I like ye! Follow me.”

  Finn was led across the camp and toward the only building in the area made of stone. It was small—no larger than his old limestone hut. Pulling open the thick door, Salt presented a set of stairs leading into the dark. Brimming with curiosity, Finn followed after Salt, the door behind them closing. All became dark except for a soft glow at the bottom of the stairs. Leaving the final step, Finn entered a room where two Star-Children stood side-by-side, each holding a sword. They were both exactly alike. Their height, weight, and even looks were identical. The only difference were their weapons. One sword’s blade was white and the other black.

  “A beaver has a rudder, making him a better boatsman than I. Yet I shall profit more. Why?” Salt spoke.

  Finn cocked his head in puzzlement. The twins didn’t blink, nor stare directly at them.

  “Your rear won’t ache after half-a-day of sailing.” the twins stated, their voices monotone and whispery, like the echo of ghosts. Finn shuddered when they spoke, yet wanted to laugh at their response. They nodded to Salt and stepped aside, revealing another door. Salt clapped and chuckled.

  “I love when ye boys say that!”

  Salt led Finn through, leaving the two eerie twins behind. Finn made sure to stay close to the sailor. Closing themselves in the room, an empty place apart from a wooden chest, Salt winked at Finn.

  “What was up with that?” Finn asked the man.

  Salt snorted and grinned. “Just a witty little phrase I came up with as extra security. Ye never know when someone’s going to mimic yer looks. Lenova’s a strange place.”

  “They didn’t look so happy with the reply they had to give.” Finn commented.

  The remark made Salt hold his stomach and laugh. “I know boy! That’s the best part about it! Couldn’t get those two to say anything more than yes or no, so I decided to humor myself. They don’t have both feet on the deck, if ye know what I mean.”

  “What do they do?” Finn asked, creeped out by the twins.

  Salt became serious. “They be Exceptions. It may not look it, but them swords are their bracers.”

  Finn spun about but the door was already closed, hiding the two men. “Their powers were active?” Finn asked.

  “Always active. They never turn it off. Perhaps that’s the reason why they act so strange. No one knows. We don’t even have their names. The others, they call them Justice and Punishment. Ye don’t want to be on their bad side. Loyal though. They fight all evil with unbridled passion, they do.”

  “What are their powers?” Finn questioned.

  “They fight united; each move in perfect synch—as if they can read one another. Ye get hit with the white blade, then the black blade in the same spot, you immediately die. Doesn’t matter if yer wearing armor or if they merely tapped yer toe. They fight so well and so quick, most don’t even have time to draw their weapon before they’re touched by the swords.”

  Finn licked his dry lips. “And you said they’re on our side?”

  “On the side of righteousness. I figure if I were to ever abuse my power or hurt the innocent, they’d come after me. Dreaded be the day.”

  Finn wondered if the twins fought Mal’Bal, how the battle would fare. Another thought entered Finn’s mind: Mal’Bal had never activated his bracer in front of them. Was he an Exception? Was he perhaps a Full-Suit? Finn felt he knew the terrifying answer.

  Salt approached the wooden chest and cracked open the lid. He stared at Finn with a cool, calm, and friendly smile. “Now don’t ye turn on us Finn. Don’t ever turn on Lenova. For if ye do, especially after seeing this, I’ll have to personally kill ye myself.”

  The words were spoken calmly and in a friendly manner, but they dripped with the power of a man who could keep promises. Finn froze, yet not in fear or offense. Here was one who’d seen a lot of Lenova and fallen in love with it. His conviction to protect the land was strong.

  “If the day comes, then by all means, lop off my head.” Finn replied.

  The man smiled. “Now that we got the friendly banter out of the way, behold: each sea-dog has a treasure chest full of loot.”

  Taking a step forward, Finn examined the container. He gasped. Within, was a small pile of bracers. Eleven in total. Dried blood coated them and dimmed their reflective glow. Each one was strikingly similar, yet held small unique differences. One was wider. Another longer. One had the carving of a star and another the carving of a snarling cat standing on its hind legs. One even had small blunt spikes sticking out from its edges.

  “These came from rogue Star-Children?” Finn asked.

  Salt nodded. “We’ve had our share of run-ins with those who believe they are new gods of Lenova. The end result is clear: we’re no gods, Finn. It’s blasted difficult, but we can be killed. Petreamus removed these from the arms of the corpses. Some had begun to mesh with bone, others only to muscle and skin.”

  “Why don’t you put them on? Gain even more power?” Finn asked, the idea sounding so instinctual. With multiple bracers, one could be invincible. Salt laughed.

  “If it were simple, the chest would be empty and all evil would be long defeated. What yer talking about is becoming a Prime-Child.”

  “Prime-Child?” Finn whispered, furrowing his brow.

  “Yes, only a theory. But if a Star-Child were to wield multiple bracers, he’d become something beyond mortal, beyond what even we are, become…a new thing. But, as is with a lot of theories, it seems an impossible task.”

  He rolled back the sleeves on his arms. Upon one arm was his bracer. The other arm though, bore a brown and purple scar running around Salt’s wrist.

  “It was nigh unbearable to keep it on for longer than a split second before it slid off, leaving a beauty-mark. The emotion and chaos that came with it was impossible to overcome. It was as if my bracer and the other were fighting, using me as the battleground. My mind was so overwhelmed, it’s a miracle I’m not in some cabin, drooling like a sun-fevered sailor lost at sea. It seems it would take a willpower far greater than my own—greater than any can attest to. As far as I know, there are two other Star-Children in this camp who’ve had previous encounters with rogues, killed them, and tried to wear their bracer. They bear the same scar. Some higher power has made a rule against wearing more than one. Perhaps it’s the same entity that makes these blasted things rain upon us and scuttle our ships.”

  Finn was bummed. In his mind, he’d pictured putting on one of the spare bracers and gaining a power he could activate. Perhaps because his bracer was ancient, it no longer worked.

  Salt closed the chest and sat on its lid, folding his arms. “And now yer story.”

  Finn bit his lip. Salt deserved to know the truth. He was fighting for everything Finn believed in. He began his tale with the day he’d escaped the vat-worm. Salt constantly interrupted, asking all sorts of questions. Many were of Finn himself. How had working the Crust affected his views toward slavery and power? What could be improved? What did a vat-worm look like? The man was as much of a scholar as he was a sailor. Every little detail interested him and at no point did he act bored. When Finn told of Nozgull’s attack at the mining outpost, Salt listened with upturned eyebrows.

  “We’ve heard of the name EarthBreaker. He’s a dangerous fellow. Half-suit, they say.”

  Finn told Salt of escaping into the Slaglands and finding his own bracer in the heart of the crater. At that point, Salt took heavy interest. He seemed to stop Finn at every other word, asking a multitude of quest
ions from how each rock looked to how each experience was felt. The fact a bracer hadn’t fallen from the sky in front of Finn, but he’d found it in a land unexplored in hundreds—if not thousands—of years, made the mystery that much stranger.

  “So ye be an Unchosen.”

  “What do you mean?” Finn asked.

  “Well, Unchosens are ones who’ve managed to kill a Star-Child and take their bracer for themselves. It’s a rare occurrence. Only way a human’s been able to kill a Star-Child has been through deceit, poison, or assassination. Yer the first to have found a bracer. An ancient one at that.”

  Salt grabbed Finn’s arm and examined the bracer. He read the word carved on its edge. “Akuun. No idea what that means.”

  The implications that there’d been Star-Children long ago quieted both Finn and Salt. Why had no records been made? As far as Lenova knew, Star-Children were a new thing—yet Finn’s bracer proved otherwise. Sometime long ago, another generation had been chosen. None of them were alive or had been talked about. What had happened to them? Where were their records? How had Finn’s bracer come to be? And the biggest question of all: where were the bracers coming from?

  Finn continued his story and Salt listened patiently. When Finn told of how he’d defeated Nozgull, Salt laughed loudly and clapped his hands. “Served him right! Poetic justice, that is!”

  He asked Finn what had become of the rogue Star-Child’s bracer and Finn told of Pittance, Piscus, and the Stream of Fate. After much convincing, Salt finally accepted Finn’s actions of entrusting Nozgull’s power to Piscus. Under Finn’s circumstances, there had been little choice. Salt promised that once he could spare the men, he would send a couple of Star-Children to Pittance to retrieve the bracer and bring it back to the Coalition. He told Finn to write a note that could be handed to Piscus to assure the man all was well, but warned him that it could very well be a long time before they were given the opportunity to take the bracer.