by Blake Vanier
Isis lets out a huff. “I can’t imagine it’s possible for that amount of power to be contained, let alone harnessed. I know the ancients were capable of some impressive feats, but this is too unfathomable.”
“Is it? The other theory says they’re natural concentrations of Aether. What gets me, though, is why there are exactly six. Why is there exactly one Corusnigma for each cast? It’s too perfect for a natural occurrence. There’s something in them, something of the purest form, with unimaginable possibilities.”
“Wow, Alec, you continue to surprise me. I didn’t think you had this sort of hunger for power. Perhaps you’re more like your peers than you think.”
Alec lets out a short laugh. “Not quite, Isis. I don’t see this as a tool to take over the world. I see this as something to bring the world together. If we were to unlock the secrets of the shrines, the races of the world would have to share them. It would be the common ground pulling us together.”
“I’m glad you have so much faith in people, but my experience tells me they would rather fight to the death for this sort of power than share it.”
Alec looks down for a second, then into Isis’s pale blue eyes. “That’s where we differ.”
Isis shakes her head. “If the Corusnigmas were meant to be open, then why is it so difficult? How many people have died trying to unlock the monoliths?”
“Many, but if they knew what they were doing, if they had a key… I just need to get my hands on one, and take it to―”
“Is this all that you have for me? Speculation?” Isis asks. “It’s giving me a headache. And here I expected you to have something of interest.”
Alec takes a moment, then offers her a half-smile. “And I’d hate to ever disappoint you. If you don’t distract me further, I’ll give you something that’ll pique your interest.”
“The anticipation is unbearable,” Isis says sarcastically. “Please, before I lose it.”
Alec glares at her, shaking his head. “It looks like the spooks in RIGID got your item, but seeing that they’re as helpless as they are, about a week ago, they called me in to help with a preliminary analysis. Oh, and by the way, their equipment is much nicer than mine.”
Isis rolls her eyes. “I told you―I’m working on it. It’s not easy to approve half the things you request.”
Alec smiles. “As long as you’re trying. Anyway, after using their fancy equipment, I was able to run some tests of my own design.”
“What did you find?”
“Besides a mind-bending conundrum?”
Isis scowls at him, trying to hide a smirk.
“Alright, I’m getting to it. This is a very strange piece. It didn't behave as I’d expect a Braunstadt piece to, at least from what I’ve heard and studied. I tweaked the experiment a touch, which delivered some interesting results.”
“That's good, isn't it?” Isis asks.
“I guess that depends on your definition. I don't think this piece is pure ancient.”
“What? But I thought you said it was?”
“Don't get me wrong―there are still ancient elements to it, but there's something else there, too. It's like it's a hybrid of different technologies from different races.”
“Does that mean it isn't as old as we thought?”
“No. I ran that test as well, and it definitely originates from the same time as the other Braunstadt pieces.”
“Did you find any hints on the non-ancient part?” Isis asks.
“The parts are meshed perfectly together, which makes it very hard to actually detect the differences. It had to be someone with extensive knowledge of ancient technology, or someone with the help of the Lost Race to make this piece. It makes me wonder if the other pieces are also hybrids… But there’s no way to tell unless I get my hands on them. I probed the newer technology with much more success.”
“And what did you find?”
“Well, you're not going to like it.”
“I will decide that for myself, Alec. What’d you find?”
“It’s very similar to ancient Human technology.”
“Don't be ridiculous. The Humans are morons. Plus, weren't they enemies with the Lost Race then?”
“Yes, I know. I triple-checked my results, and I found the same thing every time. Maybe this piece was made under a peace treaty, or something like that? We know their conflict was settled right around the end of the Second Age.”
“Are you sure you aren't losing your mind?”
“I'm just following the facts, Isis. Maybe you’re the one slipping from reality. Did you bump your head a little too hard this time?”
Isis rolls her eyes. Her face grows serious. “Did you tell all of this to the RIGID personnel?”
“I may… have left out a few details.”
“Good. Hopefully when they mess this up, we can get it back.”
“I made the suggestion that I should take the lead, but they weren’t very amused. I wouldn't hold your breath.”
“I'll see what I can do to stir things up.”
“I'd expect nothing less from you. Well, Isis, I hope you feel better. I'll talk to you soon.” He hangs up before she can answer.
Isis smiles to herself, her finger hovering over the end call button. She lies back in her bed, thoughts drifting. She finds herself staring into the mirror of a dark bathroom. She flips on the light, and to her horror, one of her eyes and the surrounding skin are completely black. She jumps back but the mirror image of herself does not move. It just stares.
I just want to live.
Isis jerks herself awake to find her fists clenched and her heart racing. Damnit! Why am I letting this get to me? You’re stronger than this! She closes her eyes, visualizing rows and rows of Erohsian military vehicles and troops. She imagines every detail of the vehicles, their conditions, the uniforms of the troops, the perfect lines on their armor. Her breathing slows. A beep from her wrist computer disturbs her. It is General Lark.
“Congratulations on a successful mission, Isis. I knew you'd get it done. There aren’t many others with the perseverance to drive their battle group for as long as you did. From the sounds of it, you were tracking no more than a ghost.”
“Thank you, General, but certainly you called for another reason? Not just to congratulate me.”
The General smiles. “Let's just say the last day of the Borukin Games has produced some interesting results.”
“Oh, yeah? So, your trip to Kiats and your visit with the King, went well?”
“Of course, but it's not that. I found someone you’ll be interested in talking to.”
“Are you going to tell me? Or are you just trying to torture me?”
“Torture, of course. I’ll tell you when you get out of the hospital.” The General ends the call.
Damnit, Richard! Isis shakes her head, flopping onto her pillow. Did he find the Borukin? She takes a deep breath, her fatigue washing over her. There is a moment’s struggle, but her eyes soon close.
A soldier kneels next to her, holding her head up. “Ma'am, can you hear me?” He pulls off his armored glove to check her pulse.
“Is he dead?” Isis tries to prop herself up. The soldier stops her.
“Yes, Ma'am. I flattened him.”
“Did you check his pulse?”
The soldier glances away. “Ma’am, we need to get you to a medical pod immediately. You’re in bad shape.”
“Check it!” she yells.
The soldier leaves her to stare up at the trees and the grey sky she cannot fully focus on. What’s taking him so long?
“I said to check his pulse! What are you doing?” Isis hears nothing and rolls over to look around. There is no one to be seen. She stands up and finds the remains of a mid-infantry soldier. The armor is hollow. A skeletal hand covered in slimy goo protrudes from one of the sleeves.
Someone grabs her around the neck from behind. Panic stabs through her chest as she claws at her assailant’s hands.
Warm breath
tickles her ear. “You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?”
“It wasn’t easy at all. But I still got you,” she says, almost whimpering.
He lets loose a vicious laugh. “Oh, Isis, we’re just starting to have fun.
25
The King
Nero
“Next time I tell you no, and you think otherwise, you have permission to kick me in the butt,” Saraf says when Nero limps into his store. “I heard they’re calling you the wee Borukin, for Stone’s sake. For how well you sense Aether, I should have figured you’d be able to perform Odo. Did you pick it up from watching Natina?”
“A little.”
“Did you learn from Sosimo?”
Nero shakes his head.
“Then where?”
Nero looks off to the side, inspecting some of the Amulets.
“Out with it, already. You’re giving me an ulcer.”
“There’s this smart Entity or something I play with in the park,” Nero says, just above a whisper. “I’ve been using broom sticks to defend myself from its Aether.”
“That explains everything…”
Nero looks up. “It does? Do you know what it is?”
“I’ve been wondering where my broomsticks have been going! Come on, Nero. I’m not that old and gullible. Where did you come up with the idea of a smart entity?”
Nero’s head drops. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”
“You’re serious?”
Nero nods.
“A smart entity?”
Nero nods again.
“For all the times you’ve proved me wrong and surprised me, I’d be stupid not to take you seriously. You’ll have to show me, but for now it’ll have to wait.”
Nero barely catches a package as it bounces off his chest. “What's this?”
“A package, you broom wit,” Saraf says. “Open it.”
Nero rips off the wrapping. His excitement plummets. Clothes? He pulls out a nice tunic, holding it up. “Uh… Thanks. This is very… nice.”
“Yeah, I'm sure you really like them. Hurry up and put them on.”
“What? Really? Do I have to?”
“Yes, you do. If you’re going to accompany Natina today, that is. Your ratty clothes won't cut it.”
“What?”
“Natina wants you to join her for the final day of competition.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“You don't mind?” Nero asks.
“No. This may be the only opportunity you’ll ever have to go to this event and besides, Delue, Ritami, and Lagia are in Axiom today. This does not happen often.”
“And if I want to go, I have to wear these clothes?”
“It's a horrible price to pay, I know. Can you manage?”
Nero looks at the clothes one more time, nodding. “I’ll try.”
*****
Saraf leads Nero through the crowd at the base of the stadium until they reach a small guard stand. Saraf talks with the guard for a moment, who sends for a royal assistant.
After a few moments of waiting, the royal assistant approaches Saraf and Nero. “Are you the Human child, Nero?”
“This is him,” Saraf says.
The royal assistant signals with his hand, turning toward the door. “Follow me.”
“Have fun, Nero,” Saraf pats him on the back. “Try not to hit your head on anything hard. Remember to take the steps one at a time.”
“You're not coming?” Nero asks.
“Who’d run the shop? You’ll have fun with Natina. Go.”
Nero reluctantly leaves Saraf and follows the assistant through a side entrance. The assistant leads him up flights of stairs. They pass a few ticket checkpoints and people of all sizes and colors, all finely dressed. They are adorned with Artifacts and jewelry. Using the trained eye Saraf gave him and his sense of Aether, Nero quickly sums up each Artifact he sees. Some are nothing more than precious stones. Others shine with Aether as bright as Saraf’s finest items. The assistant finally brings Nero to a door where a large Borukin royal guard stands, tattooed arms crossed. Her head is shaved. Her torso and shoulders are covered in red armor trimmed with gold and her styk is strapped across her back.
“This is the boy Natina requested,” the assistant says.
The guard raises an eyebrow. “He’s a bit small, isn’t he?”
“He’s a Human, what do you expect? He’s also now your responsibility.” The assistant leaves.
The guard looks Nero over one more time then knocks on the door. “Natina, the Human is here.”
The door opens and Natina's head pokes out. “Nero!”
Natina grabs Nero’s arm and pulls him into her private box, which looks out at the same arena Nero saw yesterday. A small table to the side has an assortment of snacks and drinks.
“Where’s Grebson?” Nero asks.
“He doesn’t go to the Games for some reason, so the woman is watching me for the day.”
“I think I saw a statue of him yesterday at the Orinda Museum. Did he really compete in the Trial of Orinda?”
“Yeah, I think so, but no matter how hard I try, he never tells me anything about himself. It’s incredibly annoying.” Natina points to the table. “You can have some food if you want. And sit down. The opening ceremony’s about to start.”
A large Borukin with a shaved head walks to the center of the stadium and the crowd begins to cheer. Nero watches the big screen. His skin crawls at the hardness of the King’s face. Yikes… Ivory tattoos run up his neck, wrapping around his head like a crown. They cover his muscular arms, exposed from his short-sleeved gold tunic.
Natina points. “That’s my dad!”
The King holds up his hands, settling the crowd. “Out of the ashes we arose in the Second Age, with King Stone leading us. The world was scarred, and our King was tired, but he would not rest until he saw us fit to survive. Knowing we must always be ready to meet any challenge that threatens our country, he came up with the Games. These games provide us with incentive to hone and test our might! He created three trials, which in the simplest way describes our unmatched abilities. Three trials to test the strongest Borukins. Only the fiercest take part in Stone’s Trials, and today they will compete in this arena. First is the Trial of Odosa. A trial that defines the core of the Borukin’s defense.” The crowd cheers. “Second is the Trial of Borutaress. A trial to demonstrate our effectiveness in combat and why we are feared as warriors!” The crowd cheers even louder. “And finally! We have the Trial of Orinda! A trial that represents our honor and a taste of the nightmare we’ll summon if we are backed into a corner.” The crowd roars. The King looks out at the stadium, raising both fists in the air. After turning to face all the spectators, he walks out of the arena.
“I can’t believe your dad’s the King,” Nero says.
“Yeah… He’s scary.”
Nero nods his head. A silence passes between them.
“So, what do you think of these seats?” Natina asks.
Nero walks to the window. “We're so high. It’s awesome.”
“It is a great view… I wish we were closer, though. You can't hear or feel the excitement from way up here.”
“Why don't you go closer then?”
“This is my box. I don't have tickets for the lower area.”
“Aren't you a princess, though? Can't you watch from wherever you want?”
“I guess… That's a good idea.”
“What?” Nero asks, suddenly nervous.
“We should go down and get a closer view.”
“But I thought you said we need tickets?”
“Yeah, but you just said I'm a princess. I don't think they'd mind.”
“Are you sure? I don't want to get in trouble.”
“Yes, I'm sure.”
Natina grabs Nero's arm, pulling him out of the room.
The guard turns to her in surprise. “Are we going somewhere, Princess?”
“Yes, we
are. We're going to get a better view of the competition.”
“But you’re supposed to watch from your private room.”
“It's too high up. Besides, you can’t see. Wouldn't you like to get closer to the action?”
A flash of desire passes over her face, but it quickly turns somber. “It’s not my job to tell you what I want.”
“I saw that!” Natina says, smiling and pointing. “Are you coming, then?”
“I'm assigned to you, my lady. I will follow you to the Tenebrous Miasma if that’s where you’re going.”
“Really?”
“Of course, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Maybe down the road then. Let's go.” Natina turns and hurries off.
The guard looks at Nero then gestures onward. Natina hurries through the crowd, always descending when possible. At the bottom level, she walks up to an usher in a red uniform checking tickets, right at the arena level. The usher's face is curious as Natina approaches. He looks annoyed when Nero stands next to her, and worried when he sees the guard hovering behind them.
“Excuse me, sir,” Natina starts. “Do you mind if my friends and I sneak into this section to watch up close?”
The usher looks at the guard then back to Natina. “Do you have tickets?”
“No, that's the thing. My dad, the King,” she says with emphasis, “got me a private booth up high, but I want to be close and with the people.”
The usher swallows. “The King?”
“Yes, my dad. I'm not sure what he was thinking. I asked if I could have a closer seat, but he must have been too busy.”
“Uh. There are no open seats here. Would you like me to kick someone out?” He asks, stammering.
“Oh no. I don't mind standing. We'll even try to stay out of the way, if you think that's okay.”
The usher lets out a pent-up breath, relaxing. “Yes, I think that would be fine, Princess. Enjoy the Games. Let me know if you need anything.” He steps to the side.
“Thank you.” They all hurry past.
Natina walks down the longs steps to the railings. She stops, mostly out of the way of the spectators behind her. The conversations around them turn to whispers.