A Rising Tide

by Ross Buzzell

  The echo subsides for a moment, the air returns to its still, peaceful, quiet before a roar erupts from high up on the mountain. A tired smile forms on Konner’s lips as he sees a black silhouette shoot into the sky, wings spanning ten meters in length. The beast circles around and begins a low approach to the palace balcony. The lights from the palace ever so slightly light up the incoming creature to allow Konner to see it has a strong, muscular body with four legs tucked underneath it. It glides silently toward him, a strong, square jaw that is capable of biting through even the toughest Boronian armor, and a beautiful, contrasting and exceedingly rare color pattern of black with white swirls that spiral over its body. Konner takes a step to the side as the dragon, his dragon and lands next to him. Standing roughly the size of a small car, the beast bows down before Konner and puts his head to the ground. The prince smiles; he rubs the back of the dragon’s head which results in a soft purr leaving the dragon’s throat. Konner climbs onto his back before the beast stands back up. Konner leans forward and rubs the mount’s neck.

  “Drakesjäl. Take me to Caelum with haste.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, the dragon gives his mighty wings one powerful flap pushing both beast and rider into the air. Konner feels his stomach drop for the briefest of seconds, a sensation that is vastly different from the first time he rode a dragon. This time it’s different. This time it is his dragon having practiced to resist the g-forces created by the mighty creature’s movements Konner was ready to soar. As the initial ‘whoosh’ fades in Konner’s ears from the takeoff, a serene silence takes over with only the faint sound of the beast’s leathery wings as they slice through the air propelling them at near break neck speed toward the capital.

  Konner leans forward to create less drag for his mount, wrapping his arms around his neck in the process. Usually a leisurely flight would be in order for them, a way for both master and beast to unwind together from Konner’s rigors of the day and Drakesjäl’s stress of having been without his master. But today is not like other days. There is a ‘Darkness,’ one that has crept its way into the Cryptea, the best of the best and turned them traitors to their own cause. Now that only a handful are left, the threat is less imminent but still quite severe and the prince feels a swell of desperation to relay this knowledge to his father, the Triad Generals, and the Emissaries. Perhaps they will know what to do.

  Drakesjäl gives off a soft muttering scoff to Konner. The prince looks down to see the capitol building beneath them; he gives his trusty mount a gentle pat on the neck before gripping him tightly. The dragon folds his wings under himself, cocooning his body in his scaly, leathery wings, creating a natural cylinder shape with his body before diving head first toward the ground. The rush of air pushes Konner’s hair back. The prince squints his eyes as they adjust to the high speed of the wind being forced into them; the flapping of his azure, silken, cape is a soft echo in the background. As their speed increases toward the ground Konner can hear the whistle of air as it is sliced in two by Drakesjäl’s stiffened tail. The wind begins to gradually howl in his ears once more as they pick up incredible speed, then, for the briefest of moments, a cloud forms in front of them and everything goes silent for Konner. No more howling of the wind, no more whistle of the tail and no more flapping of the cape. There is only silence as he and his dragon dive toward the capitol building with such enormous speed most dragon riders would begin to panic. Not Konner, nor Drakesjäl, both have pulled this maneuver before and are confident in their abilities to be successful at not colliding with the ground. Konner and his beast pass the roof of the capitol building; the ground is now a few dozen meters away, Konner gives his dragon a gentle kick with his heels. Immediately Drakesjäl’s wings shoot out. They rapidly decelerate enough for Konner to hear the wings flap open. He holds onto his dragon tightly as he is forced against his muscular upper back and neck from the rapid slow. Before they reach the ground a near deafening ‘BOOM’ finally catches up to them. Both Konner and the dragon wince as the soundwave blasts past them both before echoing partially back up toward them from the ground.

  With a few more strong flaps of his wings the dragon’s feet gingerly make contact with the ground. Almost before he makes contact, Konner leaps off of his dragon and begins to sprint toward the building’s entrance. He hears a lazy yawning roar leave his friend’s mouth, before the distinct sound of his heavy body slamming against the floor to sleep, echoes into the Senate Buildings main lobby. Having not been in the capitol since he was inducted into the Cryptea; Konner would usually be inclined to look around and explore once again but not this time. Time is of the essence. He only hopes he is not too late to warn the high council. Konner approaches the electron displacement generator that will take him to the High Council chambers, still in an all-out sprint. A beam of light scans him and a robotic voice echoes through the empty hallways of the capitol building.

  “After hours. Security code required.”

  “Cryptea code one nine nine zero. Open portal to the High Council!”

  The prince yells as he continues to sprint toward the wall.

  “Code unrecognized. All Cryptea key-codes logged as blacklist. Initiate Dark Matter Transport.”

  These words shock Konner. Dark matter transports are micro black holes that take their victims to limbo, similar to the space between teleports, until their day of judgment. A jerk stops Konner in his tracks; his feet dig into the ground as he pushes all of his strength forward, but to no avail. A sudden jerk pulls Konner backward slightly, his feet still firmly planted. The ground cracks under his strength of resistance. Konner looks back to see a void floating in the center of the hall, no light nor energy output just a sphere of the purest black Konner had ever seen. His cape begins to flap toward the sphere as Konner drops to his knees; slowly he begins to slide backward before he digs his fingers into the ground as he grips it with all his might. This leaves five small lines burrowed into the floor as the prince is pulled toward the Dark Matter Transport. Konner looks back up and yells at the computer in a commanding tone as he feels his grip loosen on the floor.

  “OVERRIDE CODE ONE ZERO ONE TWO!”

  “Pass code accepted. Restoring initial order by High Prince Konner Lorian.”

  Immediately the Dark Matter Transporter shuts off and Konner slides to a stop just as his cape is about to be pulled into the device. Instantly on the far side of the room a portal opens, on the far side Konner sees the High Council already convened. Konner climbs to his feet before he walks briskly toward the portal. Without a moment’s hesitation Konner marches through the portal. His thoughts focused on the act of treason committed against him and his team ignites a fire in his belly once more. Konner steps through and into the council chambers where the members talk amongst themselves. The second the portal closes, however, each of the members quiet down and look at Konner. The look of anger and frustration on his face silences even the High King for a moment. Konner’s heart slams in his chest like a hammer with such force the simple beating of his heart causes his body to move rhythmically with each beat. After what feels like an eternity of palpable silence, the High King finally opens his mouth and speaks to his son.

  “Report on your mission.”

  This almost makes Konner laugh at the King’s nonchalant statement.

  “Mission report?”

  Konner scoffs.

  “Is that what you want? My team was almost killed, an entire village murdered, and at the very least a planet destroyed by a Boronian Crack from nearly the entire Cryptea! How is it that our best of the best all went rogue and tried to murder ME!”

  “Was the mission successful or not Cryptea Lorian?”

  Ti’Zellor calls out. Konner shoots the general a vicious glair before growling behind clenched teeth.

  “The mission was a success. Na’era is back planet side, but at what cost?”

  One of the Emissaries opens up a holographic map of the mission’s solar system. There is nothing left, the entire
solar system is a floating cloud of dust and even the star at the center had been stripped away, causing it to begin to collapse in on itself due to the force of the blast. Konner looks in horror at the hologram as his anger is squelched with an overwhelming sorrow at the loss of the system. His eyes begin to burn as he holds back showing his inner emotions but his voice is unable to hide his sorrow as it cracks when he speaks.

  “Is this… um, is this what’s left?”

  The Emissary nods solemnly.

  “I am afraid so, the force of the united blast completely destroyed not only the system but the star as well; it is only a matter of time before it collapses into a black hole.”

  A lonesome silent tear rolls down Konner’s cheek.

  “There were seventeen worlds in that system, eight of them inhabited and hundreds of moons. Were there no survivors?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  The king’s voice shows Konner he feels the same heartbreak the prince does.

  “How umm… How did we not know that the Cryptea had been compromised?”

  “We are currently working on that; however is there anything you can tell us about the mission that could spread light on our investigation?”

  Ja’Sanfurs’ words echo into Konner’s ears. Konner re-centers himself; he takes a deep breath and gets himself under control once more.

  “Tal’lak and Fi’ran were leading the rogue factions; they did not assist in the rescue of Princess Na’era and ambushed my squad. We were able to hold them off using shielding but when they used Inferno our shields took too much damage to quickly. Off World Chief Man’Sanfur initialized the assault using his long sword as the guns provided only fueled their strength. When enough of the inferno was brought down, my team systematically joined the fight. Knowing the Cryptea are trained as a unit they broke the ranks and fought one on one. This is what allowed my team to achieve victory.”

  Konner pauses for a moment, something else was nagging at him.

  “They also said, before they Cracked, that ‘a tide swells in the Darkness and that by using ‘his’ blue light he will wash over this universe like a wave and will wipe it clean.’ They spoke about the Darkness like it was alive. Do you have any idea what that could be?”

  A perplexed look washes over the High King’s face. He slides back from his chair and begins to whisper to the other High Council members. Konner wants to listen in but is so weak he is unable to muster the focus required to do so. After a few moments of whispering the King slides back up to the table. He looks at his son and takes a moment’s pause before he speaks.

  “We are unsure what this prophecy is. The Emissaries will consult their scripts. In the mean time we need to close ranks and ensure that whatever threat looms on the horizon does not strike again. High Prince Konner, do you have any input on how we should proceed?”

  Konner takes a deep breath, such a decision is a heavy one, without a moment’s hesitation he growls softly.

  “Yes, disband the Cryptea!”

  Chapter 12

  Silence fills the cavern, not a normal silence but an awkward one. Konner notes the look of concern on the Triad General’s faces. The Emissaries appear to be pleased with the declaration while the High King looks straight forward unflinchingly at Konner.

  “Are you certain?”

  The High King finally breaks the silence. His voice is steady and soft. The High King looks at his son, in silence, he nods. Konner’s eyes locked with his father. No words need to be spoken; the two know what needs to be done. Sal’Der stands up. This catches Konner’s eye and the prince looks over to the baffled General.

  “My King, we cannot disband the Cryptea because one faction has gone rogue. They are our greatest defense against any enemy that could strike at us!”

  His words carry through the air with a heavy sense of passionate concern. Konner steps forward. He meets Sal’Der’s passion with that of his own.

  “This is true General Sal’Der but think of it, nearly all of the Cryptea just destroyed an entire solar system. Should all the others be sleepers as well, then we have at least a dozen Cryptea members still planet side. I want you to imagine something General, imagine the others are activated and even one of them Cracks while on Boronian soil. Then not only is our planet lost but so are all the others who are under our protection. Should we allow them to walk free, unchecked, it could very well mean the end of the galaxy’s way of life as it is known. Is that something you want, General Sal’Der?”

  Konner’s words are not threatening, but rather are doused in concern for the safety of his planet and his people. Konner takes a few steps forward before he kneels down before the High Council and the prince places his wrists together and offers them before them in a symbol of surrender.

  “As a show of good faith, being part of the Cryptea, I offer myself to the High Council for interrogation and cerebral probing to prove my innocence; I only ask that you spare my OWS the same fate.”

  There is a moment of silence, as the High Council thinks on Konner’s offer. The Emissaries seem to be pleased with the idea of observing his mind. The High King shows mild disinterest in putting his son through such an agonizing procedure. The Generals are all physically outraged at the fact that Konner would offer himself up in such a manor.

  “The boy has a valid point; we should initiate our investigation immediately.”

  The leader of the Emissaries’ voice is monotone, yet Konner detects a hint of excitement within it.

  “This is outrageous; I will not allow him to be put through such a strain!”

  Ja’Sanfur roars as she slams her hand on the table with such force Konner feels the vibration in his knees.

  “I have trained this young man since he was a boy. I can tell you he is no traitor!”

  The leader of the Emissaries smirks wickedly before he stands as well to meet with the general in verbal combat.

  “This may be true, but you have shown no aptitude in the past of observing a traitor, even one so close to you as he.”

  Ja’Sanfur goes quiet at the mention of ‘he,’ a look overtakes her face, one Konner had seen before. If she had her sword on her the blade would already be drawn. Ti’Zellor’s hand is placed on his subordinates shoulder. Ja’Sanfur looks back at her commanding officer.

  “Calm yourself Ja. All will be well.”

  Ti’Zellor stands to address the rest of the council.

  “Members of the High Council in light of the evidence brought before us, who votes to dismember the Cryptea and question the surviving members to uncover what dark secret lurks in the shadows?

  Almost unanimously everyone raises their hands slightly and calls out with a mighty ‘Aye!’ save Sal’Der. Konner could see in his face, it would be difficult for him to give way and allow the squad which is held in the highest regard to fall in such disgrace. After a few moments of silence, he lazily raises his hand.

  “Aye, dissolve the Cryptea immediately.”

  “So it passes.”

  Declares the High King.

  “And those who would take Konner up on his offer to probe his memories to discover if he is a traitor or not?”

  Konner’s father continues; across the table each of the Emissaries vote “Aye” one at a time. The vote skips over the High King with each of the Triad Generals voting “No” and so it all comes down to the High King. Konner looks up at his father, not pleading for mercy, nor yearning for favor, but rather with a sense of purpose. Yes the memory probe would be dangerous and agonizing but to protect his planet Konner is willing to endure even that to ensure that he has not even been subconsciously compromised. After a long moment of pause with Konner gazing into his father’s bright eyes and his father staring right back; he rests his face onto folded hands. A single word echoes from behind the High King’s hands. With such command neither side, nor Konner would dare argue with the verdict.

  “No.”

  The Emissaries move to argue, but the High King fires a sharp glair at them w
hich sits all three down.

  “I know my son as well as I know myself. If he were compromised I would know it and I would deal with it personally. As for the other matter, dissolve all Cryptea members. Scatter them throughout the planet in interrogation rooms and discover who has been compromised. Those who have not will be set free. Those who have will be sentenced to prison. As a result debrief and disband the OWS as they are the right hand of the Cryptea. They will be reassigned to different units and the loyal members of the OW S will be granted special titles for standing firm in the face of treason.”

  As his father’s redeeming tone washes over Konner, the prince rises to his feet and drops his hands to his sides. His tattered silken cape lightly caresses the prince’s hands as he looks toward the ground for a moment.

  “Thank you my King.”