by Blake Vanier
This time, Onk and Fording were ready. They both blasted the creature with Aether, knocking it back into the forest. The fiery energy of Fording’s Pahzan Aether interwove with Onk’s blue Moltrik Aether, blending across the creature’s body and occasionally jumping to the surroundings.
“It’s a virker,” Rolk yelled. “It’s made of Aether. Physical attacks are worthless alone.”
“They don’t exist,” Onk yelled. “It’s impossible.”
I stepped beside Rolk, bo styk ready. “We can have that discussion after we’ve dealt with it.”
Rolk held out his styk to me. “Take some of the Aether I pulled from it. When we attack it with Aether, it will temporarily be drawn closer to our realm. We can attack it directly then.”
I grabbed his styk and pulled some Aether from it. “Thanks.”
The virker leapt at Onk again, and the two Humans countered with their Aether attacks. This time, the virker was barely slowed down. With the Aether still coursing over its body, I swung my styk at the creature as if I were going to deflect an Aether attack. My styk struck the creature, driving it to its knees. I followed through with the other end of my bo, but it jumped out of the way, slashing its claws at my leg. I pulled back just in time, though the searing heat of the claws still singed my skin.
The Humans attacked again, knocking the virker off balance, and Rolk leapt closer. His styk connected once in the creature’s side making it stumble, but it blocked Rolk’s next few attacks. Rolk dodged swipes from the claws and swung at the virker again. With no apparent effort, the creature grabbed his styk and raked Rolk’s chest with its other hand. My heart seized while I watched my husband clutch his chest and fall to the ground.
The creature turned back to the Humans and flicked away their Aether attacks with ease. It launched itself at Onk, sinking its claws into his shoulder, and driving him to the ground. Fording grabbed at its arm, but she was easily tossed into the vegetation. The virker raised its other set of claws to strike Onk’s neck. I forced the thoughts of Rolk away and rushed to help. Just as the virker began to swipe, a pale green blur slammed into it.
The virker’s arm flared with Aether as a large, hairless, dog-like creature bit into it. There were spikes along the length of the new creature’s body, larger at the joints. Its cat-like paws dug into the virker, and the wounds flared with light. The virker struggled with the new creature only to get pounced on by two more. Yellow eyes flashed. These were the cressen. A hairless, monkey-like cressen dropped from the trees onto the group.
Even with the cressen hanging off of its arms, the virker struggled to its feet. Aether spewed from its wounds, a thick mist that slowly settled and eventually burned away in an orange glow. Again, the colors of the forest began to fade.
The virker slowly brought one arm around to grab the cressen. Its claws sunk into the cressen’s back. Red blood painted the cressen’s pale skin.
A sudden bright flash blinded me, and the world disappeared.
The ringing in my ears was the first sign I was still alive. Each following pain, whether it was sharp and stabbing or large and throbbing, was another confirmation. It took me a moment to sort out that I was upside down against a tree, most of my weight on my head and twisted arm. I could feel blood rushing to my face, and sticks poking me. As my sensations began to work themselves out, I could tell I wasn’t suffering any life-threatening injuries. I hoped the others fared as well.
What happened? I pulled myself out of a clump of vegetation at the base of a tree and looked around as dirt and clumps of plants sprinkled the ground from above. There was a large crater where the virker and cressen had been. A great chaotic buzz of Aether filled the air. The color and normality of the world quickly returned, and the buzz of Aether settled.
The others in the group were stirring from similar tangled positions. I let out a great sigh of relief when I saw Rolk walking toward me, his hand on his chest. I struggled to my feet and rushed over to him. The gouges across his chest were cauterized from the Aether burns and the bleeding was minimal. He would live.
“What was that?” Rolk asked.
Seader brushed dirt off himself and patted his weapon. “Yeah, sorry about that. It’s still a bit crude but at least it got the job done.”
“I've never seen anything like it,” Onk said. “It didn't even leave behind essence.”
“That's because it’s brand new,” Seader replied with a smile. “It's an Aether weapon, the first of its kind. It seems to have passed its first field test with flying colors. I told you you’d soon be respecting the Erohsians as an offensive force.”
“You just evaporated the cressen along with the virker,” Rolk said. He paused and let silence fill the air. Not a single creature could be heard. “We've just started a war with the Anterraktor.”
“But you promised it wouldn't be an issue,” Seader said.
“That was before you started killing cressen,” Rolk turned to me. “We need to pull everyone back before it's too late. We won't have much time before they form up and attack. May Stone be with us. We’re going to need him.”
*****
After a half hour of waiting in the truck, the guards finally bring Nero out to stretch his legs. The cool, salty air of the ocean tickles his nose, vivifying his senses as he fills his lungs with a long, deep breath. The caravan is parked on a large shelf with mountains protruding into the grey clouds on either side. The shelf reaches toward the ocean and suddenly drops away. Goosebumps cover Nero’s body and the tingling of Aether runs over his skin. He shifts his perspective. Immediately, his senses are drowned by an intense blue Aether from beyond the edge of the shelf. After a moment, his senses adjust, and the light around him is muted. Waves of blue Aether radiate outward, varying in brightness, as though a blue star is hidden just below the edge. Every few minutes, deep thuds of thunder echo between the mountains.
“Are you okay?” Bresta asks.
Nero lets his perspective shift back and looks at the guard. “I’ve never been around so much Aether…” He points toward the edge of the shelf. “Are we going that way?”
She nods. “We’ll head off to the right ridge. Let’s hope to stay out of the way of the King and prince. I think the prince is done, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Remove any metal from your pockets and body. Stay between us in case there are any hot spots.” Bresta hands Nero a little tube that looks like a pen with a clip on it. “Put this on the collar of your shirt.”
Nero looks at the tube and notices it is hollow down the center with glass on one end and a white film on the other. “What is it?”
“It’s a radiation dosimeter. In case we get hit by stray radiation, it’s good to know what we’ve been exposed to.” She then holds out a set of earplugs. “And put these in.”
“What for?”
“To protect your ears. Don’t ask stupid questions.”
The two guards remove their styks from the truck and check the lepisents strapped to their forearms. Nero takes his spot between them, and they start toward the edge of the shelf. The ground falls away and reveals another shelf fifty meters below. They can hear the faint sound of waves crashing against the rocks below. Fog flows down the mountains like little streams. It passes around boulders, slides off cliffs, and collects in troughs, until it reaches the lower shelf. The fog spills across a flat, grey-metallic surface that extends for hundreds of meters. A few silver streaks run through the surface at random. In the center is a pyramid no taller than a small house. It is made of the same grey metallic material. A beam of light shines from the top of the pyramid, arbitrarily scanning in every direction.
Suddenly, a vortex of light and energy swirls about the peak of the pyramid. It coalesces until there is a bright flash. A blue bolt of lightning arcs out, burning a line in Nero’s vision. It reaches across the shelf and strikes the ground. There is a sharp crack, followed by a concussion that hits Nero in the chest. He instinctively throws his hands over his ears, even though he is wearing ear
plugs.
A forest of electrical tendrils sprouts from the ground where the bolt struck. They reach up toward the sky, whipping in the air for a moment before gradually fading to nothing. Two more bolts of lightning strike other parts of the shelf in quick succession.
“That’s the electric forest, as I bet you could tell. Not even the strongest Borukin could survive one of those,” Jaice says as echoes of thunder bounce between the mountains. “The beam of light coming from the top of the pyramid is the spot light. It might look harmless, but there is a large range of electromagnetic radiation in the beam. Radio waves, microwaves, x-rays, and gamma rays―which is why we wear the dosimeters. You want to stay out of the beam at all costs, or down the road you will regret it.”
He points to the shelf and sweeps his hand around. “The only sign of the molecular igniter is the grey, shiny metal you see making up the whole shelf. That’s silicon. It’s what’s left of the natural granite when it’s broken down into its constituent components. The few streaks you see are aluminum and other elements. The last smite is the magnetic morass. It’s pretty harmless as long as you are clear of metal. The worst it’ll do is slow you down… which is bad enough if you get caught by one of the other smites.”
“And it’s really possible to get by all of that?” Nero asks.
“That’s what makes it such an achievement. In order to make it to the monolith at the center, you need to sense the Aether and avoid it accordingly.” Jaice points to a group of Borukins hiking up a trail from the lower to the higher shelf. Their faint chant carries over the distance. “It looks like the Prince made it. He’s becoming a great Borukin.”
Nero shifts his perspective and watches the currents of Aether. It concentrates in knots right before a smite occurs. So that’s how you’d avoid it. For the first time, he sees several Humans wearing khaki colored clothes, standing along the ridge of the upper shelf. A few are standing at the outer edges of the lower shelf. Nero points to them. “Who are those people?”
Jaice dismisses them with a wave of his hand. “Spirit hunters. They pillage the Corusnigmas in order to capture and sell spirits.”
“Why would anyone want a spirit?” Nero asks. “It wouldn’t be wise to make artifacts out of them. The thoughts of the person the essence belonged to could mess with how the Artifact behaves.”
“That’s correct… but they’re not making Artifacts with these spirits. The behavior of spirits is partially due to the memories caught in the essence. There are ways to extract the memories and study them. A lot of people, especially nimus extractorians, buy the spirits for these memories. Because the Corusnigmas are dangerous, they fetch a nice price.”
“But why would you care about old memories?” Nero asks.
“The Corusnigmas date back to at least the War of Salvation. We lost a lot during the War of Salvation… a lot of history… a lot of technology…” Bresta says. “Somehow, the spirits here are tied to the Corusnigmas and are equally as old. Historians like to use these memories and attempt to piece together the past.”
“That seems like it might be important,” Nero says. “Why don’t you like them?”
“The past is the past. We should focus on the present and the future. The conflict back then killed a lot of people, so I say let it rest. Besides, it doesn’t seem right to sell people’s spirits to be dissected and put under a microscope. I wouldn’t want it done to my essence.”
Jaice points once more to the group of Borukins climbing to the upper shelf. “Let’s head back so we can catch the King and Prince before the marking ceremony.”
On the way, the hairs on the back of Nero’s neck stand on end and the air buzzes with Aether. Nero comes to a stop. “Something doesn’t feel right.” He shifts his perspective but doesn’t see the telltale signs of any of the Corusnigma smites.
The guards slow down, raising their styks. “I may feel something as well,” Bresta says after a moment.
His perspective still shifted, Nero watches as wisps of blue Aether seep from the ground, twisting as they grow, slowly collecting in a humanoid shape the height of the Borukins. Streaks of electricity race through its limbs and arc outward from all over its body. When the Aether finally stops collecting, the edges of the spirit form the fuzzy facial features of an old man. He looks directly at Nero and smiles, a strange crooked smile. The old man raises his hand and begins to approach. What the heck? Nero takes a step back, letting his perspective shift back to normal. Only the outline of the spirit is visible now. Its color has turned to the blue of an electrical spark accompanied by a constant crackling. The guards step in front of Nero, which causes the spirit to stop and cock its head to the side.
Out of nowhere, a stream of fire slams into the side of the spirit, knocking it off balance. The spirit spins around, and the hard outline of its shape explodes with wild hairs of electricity. Two streams of electricity from the spirit’s hands scorch the ground, shattering the boulder where the spirit hunter hides.
Jaice jumps forward and strikes with his styk, disrupting the spirit’s attack. The spirit quickly turns on the Borukin to blast him with Aether. He barely blocks it and is knocked off his feet. Bresta catches the streams of Aether with her styk, using it to power her pulse lepisent. Two fast moving fireballs slam into the spirit’s leg, bringing it to its knees. Bresta springs forward and strikes the spirit’s head with her styk. It tumbles to its side.
The spirit dissolves and coalesces on its feet, but before it can attack again, pulses of Aether from converging spirit hunters catch it. Wild streams of electricity whip around the spirit as it stumbles backward. It tries to focus on one of the spirit hunters, but the barrage is too consistent, its attacks are poorly aimed. Finally, the spirit crumples to its knees and its outer shape melts away as though it lost what was holding it together. A melon-sized shining star hovers in its place.
One of the spirit hunters rushes over to draw it into a small device. She closes the device, tucking it into the front pocket of her jacket. “Yee haa! That was a powerful spirit.” Her hair is grey, tied back by a bandana covering her forehead. The sides of her face are hidden behind the high collar of her jacket. She turns to the Borukins. “It would have electrified you gargantuan masses if it weren’t for us.”
Jaice walks up to her. “It may have done us no harm if you wouldn’t have attacked it.”
The woman rolls her eyes. “It was a tormented spirit. There’s no rhyme or reason with them.”
Jaice shakes his head. “You’re a fool.”
King Kamin and the Prince run up with an entourage of other Borukins. Nero notices three Humans with them. One is older, with the loose clothes of an academic. Another man is wearing modest clothes and has an emotionless face. The last, younger, has spiked hair, tight pants, and a vest.
“What’s going on here?” King Kamin roars.
Bresta dips her head. “There was a powerful spirit that these Humans,” she says waving her hand toward them, “enraged.”
The woman spirit hunter steps forward. “What she’s really trying to say is, we saved their lives. I believe a reward is in order.”
The King turns to her. “Be gone, hunter. Your kind isn’t respected by Borukins.”
The woman shrugs. “You heard the King. He doesn’t appreciate our protection. Let’s move out.”
The King turns to Nero and the guards. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The weight of his ire nearly causes Nero’s legs to buckle.
“Taking the boy out to stretch his legs,” Bresta says, strain in her voice.
“He’s a prisoner. He doesn’t need to stretch his legs.”
“I’m sorry, Your Honor. Natina recommended we take care of him, so he is presentable for the ceremony with the Erohsians.”
“Did she also tell you to make a fool out of yourself in front of the spirit hunters? Just get him out of my sight, you worthless Borukins,” the King growls. “I don’t want to see him until the ceremony.”
The guards both dip their heads. “As you command.” They grab Nero and shuffle him back toward their vehicle.
“Do you think we’re in trouble?” Nero asks from the backseat.
“Just be quiet,” Jaice barks.
Nero’s shoulders slump and his nerves begin to overcome him. I hope I get rescued soon…
A communication device beeps. Jaice picks it up. “Hello… Okay, we’ll do so.” He puts the device down, turning to Nero. “Looks like you’re going to have a visitor.”
“Who?”
“A Human. The King gave him permission.”
What, now? Nero leans back and starts to pick at his pant leg.
Shortly, Bresta steps out of the truck and meets the three Humans Nero saw with the King earlier. While they talk, Nero shifts his perspective. The Humans glow much brighter than the Borukins. Their swirling Aether obscures their shapes, whereas the guard has very sharp features. The old man and the younger man with spiked hair have Pahzan Aether. The modestly dressed man with no facial expressions has a mixture of Pahzan, Moltrik, Icor, and Biat Aether. Wow, they’re as bright as the woman from Blue Horin. Are these the same essences I saw at the Games?
Jaice soon gets out of the truck as well and the old man takes a seat in back with Nero.
The Human holds out his hand. “Hello, Nero. My name is Vilhelm.” Nero looks down and sits on his hands. Vilhelm closes his hand, smiling. “It is good to meet you. The King says the Erohsians are looking for you and your friends. Do you know why? Did you and your friends find essence containers?”
Nero remains silent.