Sword Nation 1: House of Rahilius (A Dystopian Sci-fi Romance Novel)

by A. J. Ross

  Lincoln came into the training room. “There are things I must attend to, so today you must train with the army. The Kasiik Kiina has agreed to let you train with the 3rd front army. I have reinstated your full clearance. Now go. She is waiting for you at the base.”

  Lincoln rushed down to the base. It was a bit of a distance unfortunately, so he had time to think. He hadn’t seen Kiina in a while. She had cautioned him not to return to her, so he hadn't been able to share the latest developments. He hadn’t told her what price Tsamiit asked for her services. All he could do was hope she wouldn’t ask. If she did ask and he lied, she would know.

  He used his clearance to enter the training wing of the base. He could hear the war cries of the warriors filling the halls. The majority of the Grii would not speak audibly, yet they were very audible on the battlefield. He stepped into Kiinas room and stood by the door watching the soldiers perform their warm-up drills. It was mesmerizing to watch, even-more-so than the first time he had seen the Fiie in use. This time he was familiar with each movement and the force, position, and balance needed to achieve it.

  Kiina entered the room shortly after, and all movement ceased. The soldiers arranged themselves into columns and rows and stood perfectly still with their hands at their sides. When Kiina saw Lincoln, the light in her chest turned slightly purple. Lincoln smiled back.

  Immediately she called him to the circle. All of the other girls backed away and surrounded it. She stood on one end of the training circle with Lincoln at the opposite. She extracted her Fiie, and so did Lincoln. Kiina took one slow step to the left, and Lincoln took one slow step to the right.

  “Have you mastered level two combinations?” she asked.

  Lincoln nodded. “I’ve mastered level three.”

  Kiina’s chest glowed green. “Let me find out,” she said. She charged at Lincoln. In an instant he assessed her movement and countered it. She stepped back, then charged at him again, and again, and again. Each time he countered mirroring her exact movements.

  “Offense,” she commanded.

  Lincoln charged at her and she countered. He charged at her again, and again, and she countered again, and again. The final charge they remained engaged, and each movement was made in perfect harmony. Again that feeling. Involuntary like drawing a breath. He didn’t aim to control the Fiie, yet it performed according to his will. It trusted and followed Kiina as closely as he did. It wasn’t a fight, it was a partnership.

  After Kiina was satisfied with his performance she retracted her Fiie. Lincoln did the same. All of the warriors bowed to Lincoln and Kiina’s performance, and they both bowed back.

  When the training was finished, Lincoln sat with Kiina.

  “You have done well,” she said.

  “Thanks to your advice.”

  “I have a ship for you,” she said. “It will be programmed for your departure and return. You must not waste any time. You must kill Rahilius, retrieve Braii, and return home immediately. There is a possibility once Rahilius is dead his army will lose its taste for battle. If not, we will fight this war as planned.

  “I will kill him,” Lincoln said, full of resolve. “I’ll kill him and bring Braii back, whether or not we go to war. How much time do I have?”

  “It depends,” she replied. “They are still working to agree on terms for the war. That may be complete in a couple of weeks, or in a couple of months. When will you go to Kayora? It must be soon. I want Braii here before the fighting starts.”

  Lincoln nodded. “This is my last week of training. I will go to the Lawreiis, then to Kayora.”

  The two sat silently for a few moments, then Kiina said, “Now we will fit you for a harness, and commemorate your new station with a mark.”

  “A mark?”

  “Yes,” she said. She pulled the sleeve of her gown down revealing a tattoo of Griician symbols on her shoulder.

  “What does it mean?” he asked.

  “For me, it is just my station. But every warrior who goes into battle with the Fiie army must choose a special name. You will choose yours, and forever be recognized as the first human to take the Fiie into battle.”

  Lincoln took off his shirt so the Tufuga ta tatau could work. Kiina had taken him to the man the army used to tattoo all the soldiers with a chosen name or station, sometimes both. The artist had a set of tools that all looked the same, but were different sizes. Each one had a long wooden handle, with an ivory-colored comb attached to the end of it. Each tooth of the comb looked like it had been filed into the sharpest possible point, and the tools looked homemade. There was a tray of ink, and another wooden stick on the table. Lincoln had never seen this process before, so he had no idea what to expect.

  At first the man took a pen and gently traced a design at the base of Lincoln’s neck, but far enough away so the collar of his shirt would hide it. Kiina stood nearby watching. The artist picked up the tool with the smallest comb and dipped it into the Ink. He began tapping the sharp comb into Lincoln’s skin with the other stick. Lincoln felt the strangest sensation shoot through the nerves of the entire right side of his body. He couldn’t even describe it as pain. It was something much worse than pain. It was excruciating. He looked over at Kiina, watching with a white glow in her chest. He bit his tongue. He wanted to scream, curse, cry, and piss all at the same time. The artist worked very quickly going from the small tray of black ink to the exposed skin at the base of his neck, tap, tap, tapping away.

  He told himself, In a moment I’ll get used to the pain. It never happened. There was never a moment when it lessened. He slid further and further down in the seat as the artist worked, and had to be reminded over and over again to “stay still,” or “sit up.” In a little less than an hour, the artist was finished. He took some thick white oil and rubbed it over the tattoo after wiping it clean from the blood seeping through from his broken skin.

  The pain of the actual process was over, but a new pain was just beginning. He felt a burning sting on his skin worse than all of the blisters Tsamiit had given him during his training. He was in pain, but he had survived his rite of passage and now wore a symbol of the Grii.

  This must be what childbirth is like, he thought to himself. All of the pain, just so he could stand in front of a mirror with a Griician symbol tattooed on his neck that read, “Pursuer.”

  TEN

  Departure

  Lincoln made his way to the base excitedly. Having completed his training with the Fiie, he was proud of what he could present to the Lawreiis. It had been difficult. He had scarred his body so many times and in so many ways, but he felt pride in every mark. He granted himself permission to revel in his pride rather than acknowledge his guilt.

  Penny was in a hospital alone, and Lincoln had lied to keep it that way. He hid the truth from his best friend and the rest of the council. They were searching for her and her boyfriend was worried. He reasoned within himself, if Penny was braindead, how could she care for a child? He wasn’t heartless enough to consider Penny’s accident luck, but he wasn’t stupid enough to waste the opportunity either. Besides, he still blamed her for the impending war between Graiis and Kayora. So much was at stake. If his mission was successful, there may not even be a war. Lincoln was ready to do what he could for his planet, and the way he saw it, Penny was helping him by doing what she could. Her sacrifice could save the lives of many of those whom she had endangered in the first place.

  Overall, Lincoln felt he had been successful in his actions. Kiina had already programmed a ship for him. He had the resolve, and now thanks to the Lawreiis, he would have the strength to carry out his mission. He had the support of both the Acting Grisian, and the Ksaiik of the Fiie army. He was ready.

  He imagined himself being reunited with Braii. Rescuing her from Rahilius compound and bringing her home with him. He wondered if she was okay. There was no way to know if Rahilius had hurt her, or if she was even alive. He feared the worst. He couldn’t imagine anything more terrible than arrivi
ng on Kayora to find she had been killed long ago. Naturally Rahilius would try to use her as a bargaining chip or as an informant against the Griician army, but she would never betray her planet, which could possibly provoke Rahilius to kill her as he had killed Grisian.

  He entered the building. He couldn’t help but beam when he and Shang saw each other. Shang read Lincoln’s expression loud and clear.

  “You can use the Fiie?” he asked.

  Lincoln nodded, and went straight for the Lawreiis.

  He took off his clothes and placed his hands in the red circles. A spark of electricity shot through his body. Then another, and another, until he was lit up from the constant streams. He felt it in his fingertips and toes, but mostly in his brain. His body was lifted from the ground until he was supine and suspended in mid-air. His opened eyes stared blankly into nowhere as the Lawreiis invaded his brain, calculating his knowledge and quantifying his physical capabilities.

  There was a vision in his mind of a black figure moving toward him. He stood on a large glass plane hanging from nothing, and supported by nothing. There was white all around, but infinite darkness above and below him. His heart skipped a beat and he felt the handle of the Fiie come into his hand. He focused his attention on the figure as it came closer.

  The body shape, height, and pace were not that of anyone Lincoln knew. What he did recognize was the Fiie in the hand of whom he now assumed was his opponent. He braced himself. Correct in his assumption, the silhouette attacked him. It started with basic attacks, but they quickly intensified and became more difficult. Lincoln fought harder and harder using every bit of skill Tsamiit had helped him to develop. Round after round he continued with the faceless warrior. With each round the fight intensified. Ultimately the silhouette outmaneuvered him, and he lost the fight.

  As soon as the fight had ended the silhouette was gone. Lincoln was alone again. The plane he stood on dissolved, and so did he. There were a few seconds that passed, but they felt like eternity. He felt the force of something flooding into his brain so quickly it hurt. The pain grew more and more intense until Lincoln could no longer stand it. He screamed as loud as he could as the pain reached its peak.

  Then everything went silent. Lincoln could still feel the pain in his brain, but it had dulled somewhat. He saw a figure standing on a plain. He focused on the vision in his mind. This first figure had returned, but this time Lincoln saw himself as a silhouette as well. He recognized himself by his shape, height, weight, and connection to the movements of the image. Different from the first time, he was not in the body of the silhouette, rather he was outside watching.

  The two figures charged into each other. The same as before, the battle started with the basics and intensified with each round. Lincoln's avatar was much more skilled than he was. He was faster, and his moves were more precise. Round after round he contended with his opponent. He fought twice as long as he had the first time. Twice as many rounds. Ultimately, he was defeated by the other silhouette just as he had the first time. Then the vision disappeared.

  Lincoln felt the control of his own mind being returned to him as the lightning in his body lessened to none. He was lowered to the ground and the whole room went dark. Laying on the cold floor, he stared up at the ceiling waiting for his senses to realign. As they returned to him, he became conscious of how much pain he was in. He had a migraine and his muscles hurt all over as if he had actually been the one fighting in his visions.

  He slowly lifted himself from the ground. The movement made his head hurt even worse. He took slow steps to the changing room and put his clothes back on. Leaving the base, he went straight home, laid down in his bed and went to sleep.

  Braii sat across from Erwin at the table, deep concern on both their faces. They had just been informed Rahilius was aware of her escape, and his guards were searching for her. He had sent them to comb the streets with the Nephilim and learn whatever they could about her whereabouts. He offered a reward for her capture, and threatened consequences for anyone who might have the audacity to harbor her.

  “That means you can’t go above ground,” Erwin said. “If anyone sees you, they may turn you in. There are people here who work with the Kayorians, and against us. It’s hard to know who you can trust. The majority of the people who live down here won’t betray us because we're all in the same boat. This is the only place where I can guarantee your safety.”

  Erwin explained they were relatively far underground. The Kayorians had built a city for them beneath the surface. They were not able to buy or sell, only the Kayorians and those living above were. Each person living underground had to be attached to a Kayorian sponsor to survive. They had to go above ground each day, and slave for the Kayorians in return for one day's ration of food for themselves and any child under nine years old. If you didn’t go above to work, you had no food that day. If you were too sick or weak to work, you had no food. Above ground, the Kayorians used people as slaves to mine, farm, build, cook, take care of their children, and any other tasks they felt were beneath them. There was no pay, or time off. Humans died by the hundreds each day from abuse, malnourishment, and disease.

  “Nephilim,” was a derogatory term used by those underground to describe a group of people who didn’t live as slaves below the surface. They were “free.” They were trained to despise other people who were slaves, convinced they had earned a place in Kayorian society through hard work. In reality they had been chosen by Rahilius to help him maintain control over others, at least, according to Erwin.

  They could be seen in the city walking and talking with the Kayorians in their nice clothing and full bellies, blissfully blind to the disdain in the eyes of the Kayorians, who viewed them as toys pining for playtime. Their very existence undermined the strength of the people. They represented the possibility of living in freedom and at peace with the Kayorians. A lie many began to strive for, so desperately they would betray others in an effort to gain recognition among the Kayorians.

  The people would wear snake skin garments to try and match the scaly look of the Kayorians. They stayed away from the underground, which was necessary because they were considered traitors. They had lost their place among the humans, and were confined to a life outcast from both worlds. As much as they broadcast their status among the Kayorians, it was clear they were only allowed certain positions. Their companies and businesses could thrive, but only after they obtained a Kayorian endorsement. They were allowed to live above ground, but not among the Kayorians. They were not equals, but simply “of use,” just like all the other slaves on Kayora.

  “Do you think Rahilius will hurt other people to draw me out?” Braii asked softly.

  Erwin was thoughtful. “Possibly . . . Princess, I have to ask if you would honor me with a promise.”

  “Name it,” she replied sincerely. Erwin had been kind to her and Riian, and she was happy to have the chance to show her appreciation.

  “Will you do as I say in this matter? I need you to stay here no matter what Rahilius does to anyone else.”

  “Sacrifice them?” she exclaimed.

  “Princess, we’re already dying. Your capture and torture by Rahilius won’t change that. If you really want to help us, you can help train the men. We have rebels willing to fight, but no army and no skill with weaponry of any kind. You can protect a few of us from death, or you can give us all the tools to protect ourselves.”

  She nodded. “I will honor you, and train whatever army you manage to bring before me. You have my word.”

  He smiled with relief. This was only the second time Braii had seen him smile, and it made her feel warm. The warmth made her remember Lincoln. Ugh, she thought as she pushed him from her mind. Remembering him served no purpose other than distraction. She didn’t know what would happen in the near future, but was certain she would need her whole intellect and emotional core to survive it.

  “So, Erwin,” she said, “Were you born here, or on earth?”

  “On earth,�
� he replied. “I was about four when we left, so I don’t remember much about it. But I do remember the day. I remember my parents preparing for it. They were so excited. They had paid a fortune for our seats like everyone else who came to Kayora. I remember being afraid of the Kayorians when we reached the boarding site. They only talked to each other. They laughed and joked, but it wasn’t the kind of smiles and laughter that put you at ease, you know? It was like they had a secret, and we were the only ones who didn’t know what it was. They had learned English, but among each other they Spoke Kayor.

  There were people everywhere. Some I knew and recognized from my father’s parties. My parents came from very high society, you see. My father and my mother were always organizing charity events to benefit the people living in red Zones.”

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “Red zones were places with the most toxic air, no clean water, dangerous climate, food shortage . . .” he answered. “Basically, they were anywhere poor people lived. And not even poor poor, just . . . not rich. When we left, 79% of the Earth was considered a red zone. Because of the disparities there was violence everywhere. People were desperate, and where there is desperation there’s rebellion; revolution.

  They had been trying for the last ten years to find another planet for us. After the Mars colony failed, we realized we needed a place that was ready for human life. In the end, astronauts found three planets willing to accept Inhabitants from Earth.”

  “Delu, Kayora, and Graiis,” she said.

  He nodded as he continued, “Delu wanted children, no one over ten. They thought they would have the best chance for survival, and the Deluvians had the least amount of space to offer us. Graiis was second, with its auditions. A merit-based selection. A problem for us, because the things of merit on Earth were worthless on Graiis. They wanted singers, dancers, composers, architects, engineers,” he chuckled, “everything but stock traders. And then Kayora gave no stipulations at all. They gave us complete control in deciding who would inhabit the 1.5 million available spots on Kayora.