Exordium

by Tyson Jordan

  “Be ye scared?” His lidless, murky eyes did not waver.

  “Yes.” My voice quavered, and I squared my jaw, reminding myself to breathe.

  “So am I.” His words were strange to me, and I concentrated, focusing on my sword before me and my dying comrades around me.

  “Death is always there for me, waiting to cut me away from this world. Oh, thirsty blade, see your work! See how ye have fed upon me with your curse, and rotted away that which was once beautiful! Ye will not let me die, and ye will not let me live!” The Pestilent Reaver fumed in his hand, sending noxious brown vapour to the ground, and though I did not know the blade’s origin, I understood Vaelryk’s meaning.

  “Hunters are always there for me too, and a great hunter is upon me now, greater now than he has ever been. He is coming, even now, ever courageous and more so relentless, and my life is not enough to pay his toll.

  “And now there are children who hunt me as well, pushed by others and by themselves to do great things. Are ye a mere child? Or be ye a hunter too? Your blue headband is the mark of hunters great, but your youth is the mark of all things weak. What say ye?”

  “You don’t know who I am, do you?” I asked, as the reality of an aging, addled mind trapped within a poisoned, rotting form grew inescapable.

  “I remember ye not, little swordsman. I remember few who have been cut down by my sword. I remember only those who have survived its bloodthirsty kiss, and they are few indeed. I fear that I cannot join them, for the blade will not leave me no matter my effort and it is ever hungry!” The wavering fear of inevitability filled his voice, and my childhood nightmare was no more.

  “My name is Zircon Fortuna, and I am the son of Cobalt Fortuna, the man you murdered!” Vaelryk stepped back at the sound of my father’s name, and I squeezed Demonbite ’s hilt tightly. My heart pounded and I could feel cold sweat on my brow.

  “You took him from me. You took everything from me! From so many people that day!” I pointed the long, heavy sword at him, finding courage in its heft and in my words.

  “I have taken a great many things from a great many people, child. Ye come seeking vengeance? Seek it! A great many before ye have come to try, and a great many still have failed.”

  “I won’t.” I bared my teeth and drew in a deep breath, readying for the plunge at last.

  “Ha! The spirit of youth, of vigour and determination! Ye be your father’s son! Will ye deliver upon me another great scar, such as his? Or will ye be the one to cut away my life, and save me from the suffering of my curse?” With his free hand Vaelryk loosed his tattered robe and let it fall to the ground. He opened his arms to me and smiled madly.

  “Do ye see the scar of your father, boy? Do ye see what he did to me? His hammer and this sword be brothers, the sort that was forged together by and with hate to suit the purpose of a higher power. Mine rotted the body, but his rotted the spirit, and gave to me a curse like no other! It will not heal, it will never heal, for such a grievous wound could only be given by his utmost dark Feeling.” I saw within Vaelryk’s chest the weakness that I so sorely needed.

  “Will ye come now, boy? Will ye come to finish what your father started so long ago, or will ye fall before me and leave me to suffer for the remainder of my days? Death and misery be all I have!” The time had come at last.

  I hurled myself forward, propelled by fear and loss and anger and hate, hoping that I would do my father’s legacy justice. With Demonbite at my side, I twisted and let the long sword cleave the air. The Pestilent Reaver met my sword with little effort, parrying my blow. My blade was twisted and pushed down into the sand. I remembered this well from my battle with Argenta, and I seized the same unconventional opportunity.

  My fist collided with Vaelryk’s brittle jaw and I felt it give way beneath my knuckles. The silent air broke and as he groaned, staggering back in recovery, I retrieved my blade from the sand and thrust forward. It was well directed, tempered by desperation, and it would have found its mark, but the beast before me would not be undone so easily.

  He stepped back and to the side, knowing my target, my goal, letting Demonbite ’s chipped edge pass him by harmlessly. I had overcommitted to the strike, and there was no time to pull back or counter. I felt his skeletal fingers wrap around my neck, crushing my breath from me in an instant. I kicked my legs violently, and the enemy cried out in pain as my greave split the muddy flesh of his knee.

  I stepped backward, hoping to recover before he did, but I could not. Decomposed and weakened as he was, Vaelryk he remained, still the killer of a titan, and he snarled victoriously, launching forward. Demonbite rang twice in defence, but was cast aside by hands more skilled than mine. The impact of his fist sent me sprawling into the sand, clutching my stomach in pain.

  With the fear of my impending death, I looked into his milky eyes and saw regret and impatience, that one so weak would challenge him. It infuriated me. It was too easy to give myself to him, too easy to let the Pestilent Reaver devour my flesh and bone and blood. Mustering what little I could, I rolled to the side and the jagged edge sunk into the sand harmlessly. Vaelryk swore. “Why do ye prolong this, little bastard? Ye cannot stop me!”

  He came at me again, but I would not run. I had run too long and too far from him and he would not have the satisfaction. He would pay for his transgressions. He would regret all that he had done.

  Spurred on by aggravation, Vaelryk advanced, and I heaved my body to the side, rolling and retrieving Demonbite from the sand. I stood and faced him, stepping away and breathing heavily in near-panic. He smiled at me, seeing my fears, and I bared my teeth. With one forced breath after another, I did everything I could to calm myself. My grip on Demonbite relaxed, and the tension in my muscles slowly evaporated. The rotting monster before me frowned.

  His damned sword screamed for me. The blow stunned me somewhat, but I retained my balance and struck back, splitting my knuckle with poorly directed might. I readied to swing again, wilfully ignorant of the pain and hoping to weaken him, but the monster before me cried, “Enough!”

  He moved with an unfathomable speed; it was a remnant of his former power, the kind that he once summoned in combat with my father. With no time to ready a defence, I felt his cursed sword strike my armour, rending its metallic light. My body shuddered in violent protest as I spun in place, staggering back. My ears rang and my arms shook as I saw with growing comprehension the Pestilent Reaver high in the air, thirsty and without peer. It was all I could do to retain that gift of momentum and turn to my side. With sword in hand I reached out, stabbing at him clumsily.

  The low, sharp sound of piercing flesh invaded my ears. The sting of my failure was overwhelming, and I felt the ache of my father’s rejection, for I knew that it was over. I felt no pain, only the chill of the desert night around me, and I looked up at my opponent.

  He looked down at me in surprise, and I noticed that he held his damned sword no longer.

  46

  We Shall Meet Again

  The Pestilent Reaver had fallen to the sand beside our embracing forms, and I stared at Vaelryk, not knowing what to say or do. I was unharmed, frozen in place. His eyes fell to his chest, and I saw that the decayed heart had been pierced, its feeble beating ended. His gaze met mine, and he smiled in genuine gratitude.

  “This be your father’s legacy, boy.” Through choking, bloody breath Vaelryk uttered his last words. His weight slumped suddenly forward, and I withdrew my sword from his chest as he fell. I did not know what to do. I did not know what to feel. I could only stand and stare at his ruined, broken body.

  There was a screaming in the darkness, a chilling shriek that came from the monster’s sword, and it shook me from my watch. It was the sword, howling that its bearer could no longer hold it. The cracks and chips in the blade and hilt came rapidly as the sword crumbled away, clattering and convulsing on the ground below. I stared at it in disgust, seeing its insatiable blood-thirst turn to torment, and felt gladdened by its dyin
g.

  The blade reduced to rust and broke apart in the still air, and my eyes fell to the ground. I stood alone and in silence.

  “Zir … Zircon?” I turned to see Argenta clutching her chest. Her fingertips were faint orange embers and I saw the cauterised wound, a smoking and charred path that wavered from hip to shoulder across her torso. She took a step towards me, and pitched forward into unconsciousness. I hurried to catch her limp form, and could hear the faintness of her breath. She would survive.

  Hey … hey, don’t forget about me. The rhythmic sound of the tide was interrupted by a barely audible voice in my mind. I turned my head to the sea, seeing Janus staggering from the dark waters, his hands clutched tightly over his stomach and a forced smile on his face. “You know, that dagger really doesn’t suit me after all, huh?” He winced terribly as he chuckled, and waved away my concern as he grimaced. “Ceres has seen a lot worse.”

  We moved through the sand slowly and wordlessly, past the ruined rust of the Reaver and the rotten Malinvictus, who had fallen on his back and stared wordlessly and happily at the sky above. I paid him a final look, not only of hate and fear but of strange pity, and moved forward, noticing Janus send a signal to the ship that we hoped was still there.

  “Ha, I bid good riddance to that nightmarish little toy!” A woman’s sultry voice broke my vigil, and I wheeled around to meet her. Nyrvanna stood over Vaelryk and what remained of the damned sword, her face hateful.

  She was not close enough for my sword, and my breathing wavered, my body protesting against any further exertion with a mix of sharp pains and dull aches, and my gun had gone missing, drowned somewhere by my friend’s earlier efforts. She laughed, of course, and asked, “So what will you do now? Your enemy is dead, but do you have the nerve to carry on?” My friend swore at the silver woman as he struggled to command the Ebb, but the waters would not respond to his weakened call.

  I paid Nyrvanna no answer. I turned away and began limping towards the Teem, barely able to resist the pain of my injuries. My vision had blurred, and the taste of blood in my mouth had grown stronger than before. The Malinvictus called out, “He wasn’t very pretty at the end, was he? I loved him once, but I’m glad he’s gone, truth be told; he thought in such small terms. When the others arrive, you’ll really get to see what we have in store for you and all those leeches in their hovels, and the rest of this pathetic quagmire too.”

  I paid Nyrvanna no answer. Argenta’s body grew heavier with each step, but I pressed on nonetheless. I could feel the frustration in her voice growing as she mocked me, but I did not give her the satisfaction of a response. She would still be there tomorrow, and we would rise anew to meet her and all of her threats.

  “Is this your idea of strength? Do you know who we are, who you’re dealing with?”

  I still did not answer. I realised that I was limping, and there was sweat and blood on Argenta’s face that had not been there moments before. It was mine, of course, that had dripped from my bleeding face, and I turned my head, forcing out the metallic heat that had flooded my mouth on the sand. Far ahead, I thought I could hear the faintness of the Destrier ’s engines beyond the Bastion, and I looked at Janus in exhausted curiosity. He nodded his head and flashed his teeth, and I stumbled forward yet again with slight renewal.

  “Do you think yourself a hero now, boy? Are you a conqueror? A warrior? You’ve no idea what’s coming for you next!” I turned and simply stared at Vaelryk’s mistress, showing neither fear nor contempt. She was nothing; she could offer only words and their ineffectual harm, and I saw her far from me, small and in great pain. She spoke no more, and faded into the shadowy night again.

  The darkness of the night was broken by a single column of blue-white light that lanced through the air, dividing the sky as it approached. The Destrier was a simple beacon of white light that crackled and hissed in anger as Gareem landed the ship before us, casting sand in all directions. Its weapons still glowed, and entire sections of chassis had been dissolved, but the ship would fly nonetheless. We boarded.

  I sealed the hatch of the Destrier and we soared into the night that remained dark, beneath a still-menacing sky.

  Epilogue

  A few weeks passed, and our wounds had begun healing with time and Ceres’ meticulous aid, leaving behind their defacements and violent memories. Argenta’s movement was slow and planned, her chest and abdomen both scarred and scorched by Vaelryk’s blade and her own purifying, fiery touch. Janus’s dagger had been lost to the sea, and he expressed great gratitude that the weapon had not met its mark, thanks in no small part to his armour. His movement was strained all the same, and his smile, though much welcomed, had faded somewhat since all the misery of that night.

  I sat in solitude in the communications room, holding Demonbite across my lap. The blurriness of my vision had subsided greatly, and my earlier stabbing pains had been replaced by a chronic, dull ache that pulsed throughout my body. My sword, too, was wounded—the blade was chipped even further and had grown dull thanks to my clumsy exertions. With a grinding-stone in hand, I passed over the edge slowly and patiently, watching small glints of light fall to the floor with each stroke.

  “Do you have a moment?” Argenta and Janus both stood at the door. I nodded, and they sat across from me.

  “I feel that you deserve my gratitude, Zircon. I still do not understand how you won, or how any of us are here, but it is our present reality.” I gave a half-hearted smile, understanding that further praise from Argenta would not be coming.

  “Same goes for me. Well, the thanking you part of it, anyway.” Janus laughed, and my smile spread. Argenta shook her head, uncomfortable with pleasantry.

  “Now that our gratitude has been expressed, we need to consider our future course of action.” The Ocean Dweller and I agreed, and the young woman continued speaking as she rose, beckoning us to follow her. We exited the Bastion together, and I saw that it was midday. The sun above shone dimly on the Teem before us, its light obscured by many passing clouds.

  The influence of the Malinvicta was, at least for the moment, eradicated. The countless refugees of the Teem had returned to themselves once more, yet I could not bring myself to feel glad at the sight of them. They remained helpless and without direction as they milled about their broken streets and squalid hovels, awaiting the next shipment of algae.

  Mirakind was no more. Upon reading the reports submitted by Ferric, describing the new presence of the Malinvicta on Grand Ocean, the Guild’s response was immediate and left no room for reprisal. What assets of the corporation remained had been seized, and all algae production on Grand Ocean was brought under the total control of the Guild, under the scrutiny of what few scientists and physicians could be spared.

  Argenta moved slowly, pointing out the various weaknesses that had been inflicted on the Bastion, and expressed no concern about Osmium’s departure, much to Janus’s dislike. Her words, as always, were pragmatic and focused only on tomorrow, yet there was something different in her eyes and her voice, something which hinted at remorse. She left us shortly afterwards to patrol a section of the Teem, and to be alone with her thoughts.

  “You seem especially talkative today.” Janus smirked as he playfully punched my arm. I tried to smile in return, but could not, and I stood motionless in an alleyway.

  “I don’t understand any of it, Janus. I just don’t.”

  “What’s on your mind, big guy?” Janus murmured in reply, and I looked back at him, weary like I had never experienced before.

  “I don’t know. I wish I could feel vengeful or proud or justified or … or anything. But I just … I just don’t. I’m still scared and lost and … and all of it. I don’t know what to do.” I sunk against the crumbling wall of a shack, staring blankly out at the aimless men and women of the Teem.

  “And that’s fine. It really is. No one expects you to have all the answers, Zircon, and if you weren’t afraid … well, I don’t know what you would be. Not one of us, t
hat’s for sure.” Janus joined me, wincing audibly as he leaned back and bent his knees, sliding down the wall to sit on the uneven road.

  “Was it worth it, Janus? Did we actually accomplish anything? We’ve bled and suffered and this … this is worse than it was before we got here. Ferric, he … he died. For me.” I stared at a puddle in the street that began pulsing with the rhythm of an approaching delivery vehicle, and the clamour of the Teem rose to meet it.

  “You know, some people might call me naive, but … I don’t look at Vaelryk’s death as our real victory here, you know. And things here aren’t worse than they were before. In fact, I’d say they’re better now.”

  My friend smiled warmly at my confusion, and I replied, “Better? How?”

  Janus pointed at the receding throngs of refugees as the limited delivery vehicles finished their daily rotation and retreated to the Bastion and Anion beyond. The girl was there, holding a fresh pack of algae close to her chest as she hurried home, and she took notice of us in the alley. Her pace slowed, and after a moment of hesitation, she turned and walked toward us, wordless and wide-eyed.

  I gazed up at the girl as she peered down at me, filthy and streaked with salt, her bare feet calloused from the endless stones below. She tore into the small, silvery package of algae with dirty hands and squeezed it, setting free a green globule that she consumed without hesitation. The girl smiled at me as she chewed noisily, then ran home.

  “That right there. That’s how things are better now. It won’t happen overnight, Zircon, no matter how many monsters we kill, but … that right there is enough for me. It’s enough … for today, at least.” Janus climbed to his feet and stood before me, his eyes gleaming with purpose as he flashed a toothy smile. He extended his hand to me, and my aches subsided, replaced by new vigour.

  I grasped his hand and rose to my feet.