1.6
“If the Meteans truly left to seek greater power … perhaps they will not return. Perhaps Solixia was only a beginning.” – Valeria DeVry (ANTHIS)
Metallurg (Metabode)
The moving stairs stopped abruptly.
The group within Metom’s tower waited in an anxious silence. Directly above, the spiraling staircase fed into a large platform made out of the same strange material as the eerie tower itself. How far they had traveled was impossible to tell; it felt like many miles. Aaron forced himself not to worry about finding a way down.
With a flash of his free hand, the King motioned for his guards to advance. Turning, he smiled confidently to Leena before dashing after them. There was no need to let his gaze linger, he would have that luxury soon enough. The King halted at the second to last stair where Fend and Fain were studying the dusty platform.
“Same prints as before,” Fend grunted. “No telling how fresh.”
“But definitely long after the dust had settled,” Fain added. “I’d wager there’s something still alive ahead, but I couldn’t guess what.”
Aaron pushed past the two hulking men and placed his own boot in one of the strange prints. He took a relieved breath upon realizing it was barely bigger than his own. Legends said Ironskinned wore boots nearly twice the size of normal men.
“If it isn’t a Metean,” the King thought aloud, “then what?”
“Another expedition?” Leena offered from a few steps below him.
Aaron withheld a smile. Her looks were not the only reason he had brought her to Metabode. “Certainly, the Alliance would have told us of a previous attempt. This mission is just as important to them as it is to us.” He paused and shook his head in disgust. “Although, they likely wouldn’t have if no one returned alive. They don’t like to advertise their failures. Any scholar would be hard pressed to find one.”
“If it is not Metean than we will end it,” Fend growled defiantly. The s’ore rifle pulsed eagerly in his hand. “If it is … we will hold it at bay.”
The two guards knew their place well.
“Lead the way,” Aaron commanded. They had come too far to leave without something to further their cause in the search for the Metean cache of s’ore.
The group watched wordlessly as Fend took a few cautious steps onto the platform. His black bodysuit meshed artfully with the darkness. Where there had been a man before, there was now only a floating light.
“It feels sturdy enough,” Fend finally proclaimed. “No traps yet.”
As Aaron stepped onto the dark surface, the green light leapt from the stairs and filled a series of lamps that hung intermittently along the high black walls.
He smiled, wondering if it had somehow pieced together that he was the important one of the group. Perhaps it had even known at the outer door. The smile fled his lips as he realized the implications of such a truth.
Whatever made those prints could be controlling everything…
Ahead, stood a gargantuan black-metal door gleaming ominously in the strange, living green light. Conservatively, it rose some fifty feet high. So high that it was impossible to distinguish its end from the roof of the tower. The flowing script of the Meteans adorned the portion of the door just above eyelevel.
It was cracked open. The trail led within.
Aaron called for lights and brought the s’ore blade to life within his hands. Whatever was on the other side of the door wouldn’t take them by surprise. It wouldn’t even live long enough to make out its killers.
The King licked his lips and motioned for Fain to enter.
This was not a time to be first.
The tall guard kicked the strange door inward. Aaron signaled to Fend and warily took a few steps forward, the orange rifle sweeping the space ahead of him. After a tense moment, the King motioned for the rest of the group to join.
So, it favors an ambush, Aaron thought as he passed over the threshold. Part of him wished the thing would have simply attacked them at the entrance. Whatever it turned out to be.
The green light followed.
The King turned and put a hand over the engineer’s breathing apparatus to silence a certain gasp. The chamber before them was grander than any he had ever seen.
It was more cathedral than residence. Giant mosaics adorned each of the four walls; ornate onyx columns wove beneath them shrouding the lower level of space to either side in utter blackness. A portion of the green light illuminated a pristine metal-worked throne.
But, it was the sublime artwork that caught the King’s eye. Two of the works were of Metom himself, his black star banner propped majestically in the background. The strange green light filled an array ornate lanterns that hung just above the frame of each.
In the first, Metom stood at the head of an Ironskinned legion. The green lands of Terramere had been fused with the deserts of Salmedia, intertwined with the stone mountains of Orilix and all wrapped within the flames of Kire. The great Emperor of the Meteans held Solixi in the palms of his open hands.
In the other, Metom knelt before a glowing angelic figure holding a crown of swirling stars inches above his head. There were no others in the mural. As Aaron watched, the woman made of light seemed to swirl and dance with an unspeakable power – the crown inching ever closer to anointing Metom as ruler of Solixia.
There was a change in the air.
Instinctively, Aaron moved backwards, just managing to take the startled engineer to the ground beside him. He raised the great s’ore blade defensively and forced his heart to slow. The room had stilled once again.
They had triggered the ambush.
The King sought the condition of the others only to stop when he noticed Fain’s staggering gait. The guard’s protective mask was shattered. Blood poured from a wound in the space between his eyes. The man’s mouth moved feverishly but no sound came from his suddenly pale lips. He fell dead a step in front of where Fend and Leena had taken position against the entrance wall.
As the guard dropped, the assailant struck again.
The ancient blade burned like with the intensity of a sun as Aaron met the demon’s weapon. That was the only way he knew to describe what stood before him. An armored creature as tall as he with slanted blood-red eyes that burned like dancing flames. A jagged blade extended from each arm – one dripping with fresh blood.
The King met the creature’s gaze without fear. As they had been trained to do, any spare thoughts fled from his mind. There was only the melodic rhythm of his heart, the great blade in his hand, and the foe before him.
The armored demon moved first, but the King was ready. Effortlessly, he turned the twin short swords aside and steered the creature away from Amon. As he drove the tip of the glowing blade at the demon’s exposed back, the creature leapt high in the air – flipping backwards over Aaron to land in front of the engineer.
The King knew the reason as soon as he saw it. The small screen in Amon’s hand was definitely working again. Without thinking, Aaron threw himself at the alien creature and drove it into the column beside Amon. He cringed as he felt a piece of its gray armor cut through his suit and lodge in his arm.
“Run you fool,” he shouted to Amon as the fiery eyed creature renewed its assault.
The King quickly met Fend’s eyes in unspoken understanding. The guard split off into the darkness beneath the mosaics. Fend would approach from behind. There was no need to lead the thing anywhere near Leena. Starcaptain or not.
Little more than a blur, the creature emerged from the wreckage of the column.
Aaron barely managed raise his blade in defense as the twin swords struck in a series of well-designed offensive maneuvers. The King recognized similarities in some of the sword-forms, but most were foreign. The split second it took to diagnose each maneuver brought every attack closer and closer.
On cue, Fend materialized from the shadows behind the creature. Aaron took a calculated step away as the guard’s sword took it through the midsection. The demon’s eyes blazed brighter as the end of the Fend’s blade appeared through a small hole in its armor.
But it did not stop.
The air in the room shifted again as the creature jumped over Aaron’s head and staggered towards where Amon had joined Leena.
The Starcaptain’s rifle sparked to life, sending a blazing orange round through the wall of the tower where the creature had just been. A startled look overtook the woman’s face as she realized she had missed – that the armored demon had vanished.
Luckily, the King of Orilix was no fool.
Rushing towards the pair of Orlixi, his fiery sword rose and met the creature’s blades an inch from Amon’s neck. Blackish blood oozed from the thing’s mouth as it turned Aaron’s strength against him and reverted back to offense.
This time, however, the King was better prepared. If there was a compliment his mentor, Aarod, had paid him more than once, it was that he adapted quickly.
Aaron stepped briskly to the side as the twin swords sliced through the air where he had stood and instant before. In the same breath, the s’ore blade carved effortlessly through the creature’s forearms. Spinning fluently off the primary strike, Aaron finished the attack in style, parting the bizarre beast’s head from its broad shoulders.
That would make the old sword master proud, he smiled as the fire left the strange creature’s eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, Aaron realized he was looking through a hole in the tower Leena’s missed shot had created.
Metabode stood just as they had left it – deserted. There was far less light than when they had first entered Metom’s tower. The green light above the murals had seemingly escaped into the gray atmosphere.
“What was that?” Leena shouted as she rushed to the King’s side.
Fend had already beaten her to the spot and was removing the lodged bit of armor from the King’s arm. Wincing, Aaron watched blood began to pour from the wound. He hadn’t realized how long or deep the gash had been.
Of course, it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
“Get something to wrap it,” the guard barked. “Stars know what toxins still remain in the air. You’ve only let more in.”
Leena shot the tall man an impressive glare but did as she was asked. A moment later, she had secured Aaron’s arm with a piece of the dead guard’s suit. Afterwards, the King slowly made his way to the headless body of the strange foe.
“Its armor is nearly a part of it,” Amon observed from where he sat on the ground. The engineer was trying to pull the spiked metal helmet off the thing’s detached head. “It is as if skin and metal were wielded together … fascinating.”
Aaron kicked the strange creature’s body in disgust only to leap back as a bright blue light flashed just below its waste. He instinctively readied himself to attack but thought better of it. It was obviously dead. The body needed to preserved for research.
“Some kind of transmitter,” Fend grumbled. The guard placed his boot on the light and crushed its source. “Perhaps it has a ship.” Aaron was grateful he left the worse possibility unspoken. The last thing they needed was for the thing to call in reinforcements.
“It had to come from somewhere,” Leena agreed. She shot the guard another pointed look. “But why would it come here?”
Aaron listened to the ensuring discussion as he walked over to the engineer. The man had given up on the helmet and returned to the Metean screen. “I see you’ve got it working again, Amon,” he said. “Tell me why that thing wanted it.”
The engineer smiled, eyes wide beneath the clear mask. “I don’t know, my King. But look!” Amon held the screen so that it was a finger length away from Aaron’s eyes. The devise wavered as the engineer bounced with excitement making it impossible to read. “This is our language! Not theirs. Ours!”
Aaron chewed on his lower lip as he considered taking it from the man. If what he said was true, then perhaps the devise was some kind of translator. And if that were the case, it could prove more valuable than a planet made of solid gold. Perhaps it could direct them to where the Ironskinned had stashed their s’ore.
Amon nearly leapt into the air as the devise suddenly pinged, the sound echoing loudly off the high walls of the room before escaping through the hole. “Starmother’s grace,” he whispered as he lowered the screen to the dead creature’s body. “The Meteans have already named it for us. Machean.” The engineer turned the devise so that Aaron could see the loan word on the cracked screen.
Machean.
The King smirked at his own good luck.
Could anyone else have rebooted the devise? At the very least, Amon had just secured himself a lifetime position in the well protected walls of his own palace. One thing was for certain, the Alliance could not be allowed to get their hands on it. To even know of its existence. Perhaps this devise was the key generations of Orlixi Kings had been seeking to finally break the Alliance’s grip on Solixia.
“Fend,” the King said. “Radio the plane, we won’t be walking back. I’d say it is high time we get out of here before more of these Machean arrive to avenge their kinsman. Who can guess what now knows of our arrival here.”
The guard nodded as Aaron picked up Fain’s discarded rifle. As soon as the man had finished transmitting the message, Aaron fired two rounds into the wall surrounding the existing hole. More of the planet’s murky light streamed into the great room as the chunks of the alien material began their long journey back to ground level.
“My King.” It was Leena. “I found its ship. Right next to the airlock.”
The King turned and saw the woman examining a small, black spacecraft. It was very similar in design to his own but fitted for fewer passengers. That meant the creature had had some kind of contact with the Meteans. The Starcaptain stepped from the ground onto the ship and began to examine it.
For a long moment, he couldn’t take his eyes off the way the black climate suit clung to Leena’s body. Thoughts of the strange creature and the Meteans vanished before those of lust. How she must look beneath it! He wondered how difficult it would be to strip off. Surely, the Kirians had streamlined the process. That meant it couldn’t be too difficult.
As he finally managed to force his gaze back towards the ship, he knew very well the gift the Starmother had just bestowed upon him. “Well Starcaptain,” he grinned, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You think you can fly it home?”
Leena caught her blush in the infant stages and quickly pressed her lips near his ears. “That and so much more, my King.”
“Once we get this ship back to Orilix, we can trace its travel history,” the King explained to the others with a confident smile. As always, he had pieced everything together.
“There is no doubt that the Meteans created these strange creatures to guard the reserve of s’ore – that this Machean, and stars knows how many more, came to this planet to investigate what happened to their creators when they never returned for it. Wherever this ship came from is where we will find our prize. By leaving now, we can convince the Alliance that there was nothing to this legend after all.”
Aaron spun his ancestor’s blade in his hand triumphantly and watched as Fend finished dragging the creature’s body next to the fallen guard. Next, he took the engineer forcefully by the arm and pulled him beside the two bodies. Amon made no sound. The man’s eyes were still locked onto the Metean device.
A good man, the King nodded as he met the guard’s stony eyes. The hulking guard pointed to the screen then to his own heart. A very good man. He would see that Fend was rewarded upon their arrival to Orilix. Of course, the other ship would return long before their own.
“Shall we depart, my King?” Leena asked seductively.
Aaron smiled as the Starcaptain led him aboard the ship. They hadn’t found the cache of s’ore, but it was now only a matter of time. And that screen was definitely important. In Amon’s hands, it would likely become invaluable. But it could all wait – there was no need to rush. And certainly, there was no need to be first.