First Song

by Blaise Corvin

  Anonymoose had been a fantastic resource for Noah over the years. They had even raked several international databases for Noah to search for specific information. Noah had asked them to look for anything on Doc Broad, his list of future fort names, the fort leaders’ names he could still remember, and raider faction names. To his surprise, they had done it without asking him why he’d asked. Noah had a hunch they were trying to figure out his angle or motivation, and he wished them luck. If they could discover he was preparing for the end of the world, they were welcome to the crippling anxiety that came with it.

  Seeing the message reminded Noah that he’d been hoping to have a lead on tracking down Zelda from Camp Hammerfist by now, the only fort thought to have survived an Aelve attack. Nothing had come up for Doc either, which was more than mildly concerning. The only thing they’d found was a single article about the disappearance of Chris Broad the day of Noah's birth in 2020. It was like Doc had vanished off the face of the Earth. That information had rocked Noah to the core, leading him to the theory that the magical blast that had killed Noah was both the reason for his rebirth, and possibly the cause of Doc’s disappearance.

  The hackers of Anonymoose were experienced, careful, and talented. They were good, probably the best in the world. It had never seemed real to Noah that Anonymoose could be found or caught.

  This new message had come from the hacker who went by the moniker Dressrosa, Noah’s French contact. This alone was enough to worry him. Dressrosa was the leader of the small hacker group. If he was giving Noah a warning that they'd been compromised, it was even more alarming.

  Noah tapped his desk nervously. Who is on to us? The Russians?

  Another thought came to him. Aelves. I don’t think they’d use human technology, but there’s too much I don’t know about them to rule anything out. The last thing Noah had asked the hacker group to look into was the U.S. government's databases for any hints of the Aelves or things other than EMPs that could wipe out an entire nation's technology, affecting both electricity and pressure.

  They had actually said they thought he was crazier than they were, which for them, was a compliment. What if one of the members had actually found something on the Aelves? The memory of Noah's Trial of the Archetype came to mind, reminding him that Kahlek had probably been reborn as well. What if the Aelves had found a way to track Noah and his online friend's down? He couldn’t think of how the Aelves would have managed it, but since he still knew so little about them, anything was possible.

  Noah summoned several mundane skills to calm his mind.

  The shock of seeing Dressrosa's message slowly faded as his skills helped him focus. He knew the Aelves would always be a problem, but they would be arriving after the Shift, that was obvious. Doc had always theorized that the Shift had prepared the way for the Aelves. Electricity didn't work. Explosives never went off. Airguns didn't shoot. Engines didn’t work. In essence, humanity had been ripe for the picking.

  What if they could appear before the Shift? Did they arrive on Earth before it? he wondered. Terrifying stuff. From what Anonymoose had been able to find by scouring several international space databases, there had been no sightings of anything that even looked remotely like spaceships heading toward Earth. It hadn’t entirely surprised Noah that several governments around the world had teams to watch the stars for alien attackers. Of course, this begged the question of how nobody had known about the Aelves before, but Noah had no more answers.

  Even with all his calculated preparations, there was too much crucial information out of his grasp. If Kahlek had been reborn, the Aelve might have received similar powers to Noah. If Kahlek had been reborn like Noah, then the Aelve might have also been aware that Noah had taken the Trial of the Archetype. Meh, thinking about this too much is a waste of time. All I can do is prepare the best that I can.

  He pressed a few commands on his keyboard, opening a folder labelled ‘The Shift.’ Inside the folder was contact information for all of the several thousands of storage houses he had secretly purchased with his vast wealth over the years. Detailed instructions were ready to be sent to all of the people occupying his properties all over the world. Of course, he had letters printed on-site, too, but in case anyone got into one, he’d been intentionally vague with instructions in them, wording them to make sense if the power went out. The instructions he could send in email form right before the Shift were much, much more detailed and specific.

  Other communications were ready to go, too. All it would take was a simple series of codes and commands on his computer to send them along to some of the most influential people in the world. The tireless young man had also prepared emails to send to various political authorities should he die before the Shift. If he didn’t input a code into his systems every six months, the emails would automatically send—a failsafe in case he somehow died before the end of the world. The warehouses held food, weapons, instructions on how to build forts, and a hundred other resources to help humanity survive and unite against the coming of the Aelves. The resources were far too precious to go to waste if something were to happen to Noah. Of course, he had his personnel stationed at all the warehouses too, but they’d need help.

  He shook his head and got back to the subject at hand. It's okay. Kahlek only had my face and name to go off. Noah stared at the message in French from Dressrosa. Someone had caught them. Did the Aelves even know how to use computers? They obviously had technology that was far superior to Earth's. Computers might be children's toys to them.

  Noah slammed his fist on the table. He punched in a few sequences into this keyboard, and the computer shut off. I shouldn't go online for a while, keep my digital footprint to a minimum. I’ll lay low for a few days, and then try reaching out to Dressrosa, Fickle, Unkle, and Wash.

  But I still don’t know about the Aelves. Should I pack up my parents and leave Michigan for my safehouses in Colorado? That would mess with all my plans to turn Steelton into the central fort, but I’d be closer to where Camp Hammerfist will grow, and my family would be safe.

  As he argued with himself, Noah did a quick check of his weapons. He’d decided years before not to keep any guns, mainly because his parents weren’t weapons people, and the pros were far outweighed by the cons. He was too young to purchase firearms legally, and if he got caught with them, it could be a serious pain. Stealth had been his best defense so far, but he still kept a brace of quality throwing knives, a powerful pistol crossbow, and a machete in his room. He checked the edge on his machete before putting it away under his bed again.

  "Krystal is going to be pissed if I just take off without an explanation,” he mused out loud. Noah let out a sigh, weighing his options, staring at the snowfall out his window.

  "No," he muttered. "I'll stay here. Even if I bought some safety for my parents, the Aelves would still wipe everyone off the map eventually. If we all get arrested, I can afford the best lawyers and probably still prepare. Life will get way more complicated, but I only have a few more years until everything goes sideways. If the Aelves come for me, I'll think about it then. I should at least be able to lead them away from my family." A big ball of stress twisted Noah’s back until he had a hard time breathing. For over a decade, he’d been keeping this secret, bearing this burden. The open questions were not making things easier. There were just too many unknowns about the Aelves.

  Noah was paranoid, but that didn't mean he needed to abandon all his plans at the first sign of real trouble, not yet. Maybe Anonymoose got in over their heads about something unrelated to Noah’s challenge. I should still exercise caution, he thought, typing in a few more keys. He double checked his fail safes, double checked his secure cloud storage, protected by top-of-the-line encryption, the servers in a secure location he owned, and hit a complex number of keys. Then Noah folded his computer, set it on the floor, and crushed it beneath his feet. It was useless now. He’d just triple wiped his drives and fried all the components using a special dead man’s switch he’
d had installed on every computer he ever used. Later that day, he’d need to grab one of his spares from a nearby storage area. I need to lay low until I hear from Dressrosa again. It could be the Aelves, but it also might not be.

  For the time being, he would stick to his original plan. It would suck to die again, or get locked in prison, but if humanity survived due to his preparations, then it’d be worth it. If he died without ever having his first kiss—again—he could be sure the universe was playing a cruel joke on him, but he was still at peace about it. Noah walked over to his bed and stared at stars on the ceiling, and named the various constellations until he fell asleep.

  ***

  The next morning, Noah walked to school with his guitar case strapped to his back, Dressrosa's message lingered on his mind.

  I just need to focus on what I can control instead of worrying about things I can’t, he tried assuring himself. The Shift was going to come, with or without him. He’d been busy, not only trying to prepare humanity, but working on himself too. Noah had spent nearly every day mastering his body, pushing himself past his limits. The skills he had learned through [Jack of All] had only made acquiring martial skills, combat knowledge, survival skills, and gymnastics easier—cutting the time required to get better at them. It had saved him time, but not effort.

  If anything, Noah worked ten times harder because he was afraid to rely on magic. His drive wasn’t just about having a body to survive the Shift, Noah wanted to push his mind—his identity—past who he had used to be as far as he could.

  All of his efforts had produced a strange side effect. These days, whether through his effort, or magic, or being the Listener, he had gained several inches of height. Maybe it's my diet, Noah joked to himself. Then he realized he had had almost this exact same conversation with himself the day before and rolled his shoulder, calming himself with an effort. Despite trying to suppress his nerves, he was still jumpy as a fox in a culvert.

  Noah realized he’d be late to school while he was only a few blocks away from his house. Luckily, he felt confident his teachers would give him a pass. This would be a good day, yes. He tried to think about school, but his more serious worries kept surfacing. He warred internally with himself, part of him wanting to work through the issues with Anonymoose, but another part just wanting to enjoy his walk to high school. There won't be many moments like this after the Shift, Noah mused. Even with all my effort, peace will be rarer than Doc's cancer sticks. Actually, how the heck had he had so many anyway? Now that was an interesting thought. Noah couldn’t believe he’d never wondered about that before.

  Walking to Washington High from his house only took about half an hour. Noah had enough money to buy a car, actually any car that he wanted, but was legally still too young to drive. Besides, he loved the walk, one of the few times of the day he gave himself to just enjoy the present. Peace and quiet also helped him think sometimes.

  Suddenly, he caught an odd, static sound with [Listen], the noise coming from two joggers a few blocks down the street.

  I don't recognize them and [Community] isn’t picking anything up, he realized. Hoods covered their faces. Why would they do be dressed like that, both of them? They could just wear knitted hats. Noah closed his eyes and focused on [Listen], amplifying the clarity around him. Everything was normal. The joggers’ breaths were easy and relaxed. They clearly weren't trying to push themselves.

  What in the world is that sound? Noah wondered. With additional scrutiny, he realized that next to the joggers’ breath was some kind of fuzzy sound. Noah focused on the static while walking down the street, doing his best to look as if he was just a normal fourteen-year-old running late to school. The static opened up and noise came through, a stutter of short and long beeps.

  The noise didn't make sense to Noah at first, but he began picking up a pattern. It’s Morse Code, he realized grimly. Normally, he'd force himself to stay calm, but instead, he let his heart race. I might need some adrenaline here in a minute, Noah warned himself.

  He let the joggers pass him on the street.

  His [Morse Code] was level three. Among the different kind of skills Noah had picked up over the years, levelling up his languages had been the easiest for him, and the highest priority. The beeps translated to: "Do you have your sights on him?"

  One of the joggers was a woman. She huffed in a breath, held it, and responded in Russian, "Just checked over my shoulder, sir. Doesn't suspect a thing."

  Beeps came through the static again. "Keep your eyes on him."

  The woman spoke in Russian, but the Morse Code responded in English? That’s odd. Noah’s nerves were on edge. The joggers were clearly here for him. The person on the radio told the woman to keep an eye on me. What for? Russian and Morse Code are two completely different languages, well, three, sort of. Would the Aelves use two languages when they could just use their own?

  Noah slowly tightened the straps on his guitar case so they held fast to his shoulders. He suddenly deeply wished he had a weapon, and started searching for a stick or broom handle, or even a rock. Carrying weapons to school had obviously never been an option, but he wished he’d planted caches of useful things along the route to and from school. He planned to fix that mistake as soon as he could. His mind raced about the joggers, Maybe Aelves wouldn’t want to be caught speaking in their own language. If Kahlek got sent back to the past, he might know that I did the Trial of the Archetype too. He might have been searching for me this entire time to take me out. The Aelves were looking for the orb before. It was pretty obvious why they'd want it. If I die, will the orb appear again for them to pick up from my corpse?

  He didn't know. As usual, he just had more questions, never any new answers. Noah hadn’t seen the Modifier again to get more information, but he was pretty sure that being reborn, going back in time or whatever he’d done had not been a normal thing for orb-wielders. His had probably been a special case. Maybe.

  The lean young man gritted his teeth. If they were Aelves, they probably had magic to disguise their appearances, and Kahlek had shown that they could speak a human language. With [Listen], Noah discovered that the two “joggers'” breathing was closer than before. They were circling around. What did they want? If they were the Aelves, wouldn't they just use magic to scoop him into the air like they had done with Doc? Noah knew they were definitely capable of it. According to Doc, sightings of the Aelves had only come after the Shift, and Noah had learned their secret, and the reason they were afraid of human technology. Electricity had a devastating effect on their magical capabilities, disrupting whatever forces they summoned. Maybe that's why they aren't shooting fireballs at me right now, he realized. Not only would it attract unwanted attention, but they might not be able to use their magic at all.

  But the Aelves hadn’t seemed to have a lot of restraint before. It was far more likely that the fake joggers were human, but if so…who were they with?

  Either way, Noah had a problem. He could go throughout his day as if nothing was different, using [Listen] to learn more about his stalkers–there was no way they could know that he had heard and understood them. But the more he thought about that idea, the more it sickened him. Noah had made a promise to himself that in his new life, he would never let others dictate how he was going to act or live. He would play by his own rules, be his own person.

  Washington High School was a straight shot on the street, twenty more minutes and he'd be there. Noah reached the end of the block and took a left, opening one of the five rooms of his [Memory Palace], the map room. It held several locations, and he instantly recalled the satellite image of his neighborhood. Even without [Memory Palace], he knew the entire neighborhood like the back of his hand, but the map helped him predict where the stalkers were. The method wasn't perfectly accurate, but it'd help.

  "Crap," he heard the woman curse in Russian.

  "What?" the other hoodie asked, also in Russian, a man's voice.

  "The kid took a detour," the woman said.
Noah heard them picking up the pace, but gradually, probably not to cause him alarm. "Boss said the kid was going to school and just to keep an eye on him. What the heck is he doing?"

  Boss, huh? Noah mused, already thinking of his next part of the plan.

  The man spoke up a few seconds later as Noah hooked back toward his house. "M says she has eyes on the kid from her vantage point. He’s heading back to the house. Maybe he forgot something."

  "Or not,” the woman replied. "Maybe he's on to us."

  "He's a fourteen-year-old," the man said, skepticism in his voice.

  The woman muttered, "Boss said—"

  So, there's another one that can see me walking on the street. Noah couldn't hear any other joggers in the area, or even anything out of the ordinary. Wherever this 'M' was, she could keep an eye on him outside the range of [Listen]. Either that, or she might be inside a building where his ability was muffled.

  There was no way he was going to let these hoodie watchers control the situation. He refused to play their game. Maybe it was time to get his weapons after all. After another second, Noah dismissed that idea. It was more important right now to escape, and move toward his ‘Vette. Legal or not, he kept a car he sort of technically owned near his house. If his mom ever found about that, she would kill him, but these people speaking Russian might try to take him out for real.

  Time to change the rules. Noah spotted his house, checked the balance of his guitar case on his back, and sprinted.

  "The kid is running back to his house," the woman said with alarm in her voice. Both of the joggers’ breathing quickened, their footsteps hitting harder on the winter street. Morse code beeped through the static: “We need multiple eyes on him. We don't know what he is capable of."

  Is it my abilities they're worried about? Noah leaped over his front yard fence with grace. No, I can't lead them back to my house. If they've been watching me for a while, they probably know the layout of the place. Luckily, one of my safe houses I prepared for the Shift is nearby. He grimaced. I am definitely putting weapons freaking everywhere if I get out of this.