Star Rising: Heartless (9 page)

They continued down the narrow path. Flickering lights above illuminated the grimy steps, which seemed to become more slippery the lower they went.

“I can’t imagine what would have driven Reave to take on a new Alioth,” said Febron. He stopped, stared at Xalen for a moment, and then continued on his way. “As I mentioned earlier, you must be very important.”

“Why do you say that?” His hand subconsciously traveled to his chest.

“Think about it,” said Febron, his one good eyebrow rising an inch. “Reave spends most of his time in the Outer Ring searching for Black Sanction activity. It has been many cycles since the man made his way into the Noble Ring. The man is obsessed.”

“Obsessed with what exactly?” asked Xalen, his curiosity peaked.

“I don’t know for sure,” said Febron, raising his hands innocently. “But…” He lowered his voice, as if in danger that someone might overhear him. Which considering they were the only two people underground, seemed pretty useless to Xalen. “I heard from other Alioths, that…” Once again, Febron lowered his tone. He leaned in closer to Xalen. “Reave believes that the Dearg attacks signify the return of the destroyer of worlds, Yashvir.”

“Yashvir!”

“Shhh… Don’t speak his name out loud!”

“Errr… okay.”

“Anyone could be listening.”

Xalen took a quick look around them. Besides the dirt-streaked metal walls, light bulbs hanging overhead, and stairs, they were completely alone. Nonetheless, he decided not to argue with the man. He had more pressing questions he wanted the answers to. “Reave told me he believes that the Black Sanction is responsible for the Dearg attacks. He made no mention of Yashvir.”

“Perhaps he didn’t get to it, but it’s all the talk over at Zizor. They say he believes there is a connection between Yashvir, the Deargs, and the Black Sanction.” He sighed. “Quite sad, really. All this hysterical thinking is tainting his legacy.”

“Hysterical thinking?” said Xalen, surprising himself by just how defensive he felt toward the man who had recruited him. “Reave is a great Alioth!”

“Y…yes, of course,” said Febron. He looked back apologetically. “Trust me, I know. The man’s a living legend. Only Junia has ended more Deargs and Black Sanction members than he. But the fact still remains that he has a very turbulent history with Yashvir. There are many who think that he has gone off the deep end; that he’s obsessed with a resurrection myth that only exists in his mind.”

“There must be other Alioths who are on his side,” said Xalen, knowing the answer before Febron even replied.

“No. He’s the only one.”

“What about the army he was with when Yashvir was killed?”

Febron stopped for a moment. “
Army?
Who told you anything about an army?”

“The students as Zizor mentioned that Reave was an instrumental member of the army that brought Yashvir down at the Bickland Station.”

The man giggled under his breath. “My boy, you have been grossly misinformed. Reave’s army was completely wiped out.” He let that settle for a few seconds. “Yashvir was destroyed single-handedly by Reave.”

“But how?”

“Now that…” A pause. “Is a good question. The battle took place in an underground cave, you see. No one saw exactly when Yashvir was killed, but people nearby say that they heard thunderous cracks that shook the very sky. The earth itself ripped to shreds. They say that Reave emerged from underground, carrying the mangled, lifeless corpse of the man who had once been the destroyer of worlds...” He gulped loudly.

“Go on,” urged Xalen, growing frustrated by Febron’s constant pauses.

“Some people say that Reave had a wild, untamed look in his eyes. Almost as if…” Another pause. “Yashvir himself had taken over his body.”

“That can’t be … can it?”

“I don’t know. The full extent of Yashvir’s power was always a mystery. And it certainly didn’t help that Reave and Yashvir had a long history. It was Yashvir, after all, who murdered Reave’s sister. Poor soul. Burnt her alive while her brother watched.”

The grief Xalen felt surprised him. He hadn’t known Reave for long, but already he felt a bond with the man.

“I’m sorry,” blurted Febron as they reached the last step. “I shouldn’t have told you all that. Please don’t tell Junia or Reave what I said.”

“I won’t,” said Xalen, intending to keep his word.

Febron turned to the door, which was a large hunk of rusted metal. “How about we turn our attention to something more lively. Are you excited?”

“Hard to be excited when I have no idea what I'm doing here.”

“They didn’t tell you?” Febron licked his lips and clapped his hands. “You’re going to love this!” He pushed the door open.

Xalen’s jaw dropped a few inches. Before him was a large room devoid of furniture—no chairs or tables of any kind. What it did have, however, was countless weapons, armor, and shields hanging from its four walls. They came in all shapes, sizes, and colors.

“I’m the blacksmith for Zizor. With a few exceptions, I designed every single piece of armor and every weapon the students use.”

“You made all these?” asked Xalen, impressed.

“That’s right,” said Febron proudly. “And now it’s time for you to choose your own set of armor and weapons. Some people, like Reave, still prefer to use swords, though they are a bit antiquated. Most Alioths nowadays use either metatons or guns.” He trudged over to the wall before them, where a long gun hung beside a red cloth suit. He took the ridiculously long gun into his hand. “This is the Febron .900 Sniper. I designed it myself.” He pointed at the top of the weapon. “The front and rear swivel are both inventions of mine, then I added this scope. They’re a lethal combination. With this baby you can take out an enemy from over five-thousand meters away.” He grinned widely. “And on planets with low density and wind, why you could even reach six-thousand meters.” He tossed the weapon.

Xalen caught it, grunting under the weight. “It’s sort of heavy.”

“Oh, that’s because it comes with extra perks.” Febron spoke proudly, almost as if Xalen was carrying the man’s very child. “You see, the Febron .900 Sniper comes with something that no other gun has ever had before…” One of Febron’s pauses followed. “It has the ability to fire energy shots. So if you are a metaton user, you can redirect your energy through the gun and fire through it.”

“Sounds neat,” said Xalen, handing the weapon back to its maker.

The blacksmith took it with a frown. “What’s the matter? Anyone else would be drooling all over this baby.”

The youth narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want to hurt Febron’s feelings, but his gaze was preoccupied with the shiny set of armor and sword that hung from the black wall directly in front of him.

The blacksmith followed Xalen’s line of sight. He laughed heartily as he slapped Xalen’s back. “It looks like you take after Reave.” Motioning for Xalen to follow, he dashed across the long room, coming to a stop before the silver chestplate. He took it in his hands and handed it over.

The first thing Xalen noticed was just how light it felt.

“Feels light, right?” said Febron, mimicking Xalen’s thoughts. “It’s made of Acolyte steel, the same material that Reave’s sword is made of. You won’t find a lighter, yet stronger material anywhere in the known galaxy.”

Xalen ran his hands through thick left shoulder blade, which was much bigger than the right one. It felt soft and smooth under his fingers.

“If you like that, take a look at this.” Febron handed the young Alioth a medium, curved sword. Xalen took it in his hand. Immediately, he felt as if he had been reunited with a long-lost friend. Unlike the sniper, which had felt alien and cumbersome in his grasp, the sword felt like an extension of himself, a piece of his very flesh and bone. He took a few practice swings, admiring the low whoosh sounds that emanated in its wake.

Like the armor, it was silver and was made up of Acolyte steel. The hilt consisted of a two sharp ends that Xalen was certain could be used to eliminate someone at extreme close ranges.

“This feels very good,” said Xalen. “I could work with this.”

Febron gave an exaggerated smile that spread widely across his battered face. “I’m so glad you found it to your liking. Like the sniper, I designed this armor and sword myself. Though I was beginning to think no one would ever claim it.”

Xalen took a few more practice swings, feeling more at ease with every second that passed. “Why is that?”

“Acolyte steel is not for everyone. Less than one percent of Alioths can wield it properly. It requires a certain…” Xalen found that he didn’t mind this pause as much as the previous ones. “Finesse that few beings possess. Furthermore, the steel is not compatible with the skin of most people. It immediately causes a terrible rash for most who attempt to wield it, that’s why it’s been called the ‘blistering steel’ by many.”

Xalen didn’t care much about the history of the steel, or what people chose to call it. He slipped the thin breastplate over his head. It fitted snugly over his chest and torso. The leggings felt as comfortable as the rest of the suit. He then slowly sheathed the sword.

He did his best to not smile too much, but he failed. Ever since he’d left Vintra, he had felt like an intruder in this world of elite warriors that he had been thrust into. A pathetic simpleton looking through an impenetrable window. But he had shattered that window. He was now one of them. He was an Alioth.

Chapter 7

A short step back. That was Junia’s initial reaction when Xalen and Febron ascended from below. She tried to hide her surprise with a roll of her eyes.

“C’mon, Junia,” said Febron, smirking. “You can’t deny he looks good in silver.” The blacksmith ruffled Xalen’s hair. “It even matches his hair. And, in case you hadn’t noticed, that’s Acolyte steel he’s wearing, just like Reave.”

“I noticed,” said Junia, looking unimpressed.

“Can you send Reave a message?” Febron pressed on. “Let him know that we have another Acolyte user in the Alioth ranks.”

Junia frowned, and Febron’s face turned an ashy white.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled under his breath. “For a second there I forgot about your past and…”

“Stop talking!” ordered Junia. The blacksmith quickly complied. The woman turned to Xalen. She looked none too happy, which caused the Alioth student to move a few feet away from her. “Let’s go. I h’ve issues I must at’nd to back at the dojo.”

She turned and stomped back into the dense forest. She didn’t look back, nor did she answer when Febron yelled out a quick, “Be safe.”

“Thanks for everything!” Xalen called back before he darted into the curtain of leaves.

“Come back and visit sometime,” was the last thing Xalen heard from Febron before the eerie silence of the forest once again took hold.

ΩΩΩ

They had been trudging through the dark trees for about two hours when Xalen, growing tired of the silent treatment, blurted out a question. “So. Why is Febron so far away from the dojo?”

Silence.

He pressed on. “I mean. The dojo is so big. I’m sure you could find a place to put him, and that way he won’t have to be alone all the time.” The melody of birds erupted around them for a second, then it stopped as quickly as it had began. “Or at least Sensei Kayos could send someone to spend some time with him. He seemed really lonely. Maybe an apprentice would do him—”

“Shhhh!” called Junia from up ahead.

Xalen didn’t know what was going on, but he did as he was told. He mimicked Junia, who was now staring intently at the ground below them.

“What’s going on?” asked Xalen.

“Shhhh!”

Junia’s eyes darted up at the trees above, then back down at the ground. “Get back!” She didn’t wait for Xalen to react; instead she grabbed him by the neck and tossed him aside. Xalen stumbled into a tree trunk. No sooner had he come to a stop, then the ground he had been standing on exploded in a web of cracks. A long, scaly hand erupted from the earth, taking hold of the firm ground. A grunt that sounded more like a howl followed.

What is that?
Before Xalen’s mind could come up with an answer, the body that belonged to the hand emerged. It was something so vile, so terrible, that he could only describe it as a product of the most twisted of nightmares.

The creature before them was a Dearg, of that Xalen was certain. He’d never seen one before, and he knew that most of them differed physically, but there were certain traits that all Deargs shared: the brown masked face, unnatural long smile that seemed to have been stitched together by a child playing with red yarn, the crimson mop of hair, and the putrid stench of rotting corpse.

The sheer size of it, easily over twenty feet long and ten feet tall, caused Xalen to freeze, fear taking hold as the Dearg approached him on all fours. Everything moved in slow motion. The creature’s defined muscles along its black body flexed and unflexed as its legs pumped at an uneven pace. The mouth opened, revealing a set of sharp fangs and an impossibly long, forked tongue. Then, with an untamed ferocity, the creature took to the air, its massive body looming over the Alioth. It was mere feet away from Xalen when it was suddenly and viciously thrown back by a tremendous blue blast to its gut. It crashed, back first, into a nearby tree.

The Dearg hissed savagely at its attacker.

Junia stood, with a bored expression on her face, looking down at the massive monster. In her hands she carried a long, lapis-lazuli rifle.

The Dearg recovered, bared its fangs, and ignored the Feehan, moving toward Xalen once more.

This time Junia sprinted directly into the Dearg’s path, jumping and  landing on the creature’s mask. Her right hand laced around a chunk the monster’s untamed hair. She waved her free hand. A blue cube from her bracelet came lose. Instantly, the cube opened, taking the shape of a handgun.

How the?
Xalen’s mind was still trying to figure out how such a small cube could have taken the shape of an orange handgun ten times its size, when Junia unloaded shot after shot at point-blank range into the Dearg.

The orange blaster shots bounced off the mask and flew into the nearby trees, burning a clear slash mark in the trunk where they landed.

Junia’s fiery red eyes widened ever so slightly.

The clawed hand of the Dearg came up, swatting the Feehan aside like a mild pest. A cloud of dust and grass rose from the forest floor as Junia rolled across it. Before she came to a stop, she shot up in a backflip, landing gracefully on her feet.

The creature, flashing two uneven lines of sharp teeth, scurried toward Xalen once more. Its speed was staggering. But even more staggering was the speed of the sensei. Her feet barely touched the ground as she dashed to intercept the Dearg.

Junia leapt in the air, her small frame ramming into the Dearg’s chest. Xalen looked on in awe. Despite the monster’s size, the loud crack of bones shattering reverberated through the air, followed by the Dearg crumpling to the ground with a loud whine.

There was, however, no time to celebrate. While laid out, the Dearg’s tongue shot out at its adversary. Still looking rather bored, Junia moved to the left, then to the right. The long tongue snaked under her, leaving a path of repugnant-smelling drool in its wake. The Feehan flipped forwards over the slimy attack. When she landed, she slapped her bracelet with her right hand. Two cubes came loose. While still in mid-air, they connected, erupting into a massive cannon that had to be five times heavier than its handler and just as long.

Despite the size, Junia effortlessly hefted the gargantuan cannon over her shoulder.

Finding its fighting spirit once more, the Dearg stood. It dashed behind a tree, barely dodging a thick wave of energy that Junia shot at it. The energy wave crashed into a tree, blasting its trunk into a thousand pieces and sending the top of the tree crashing to the forest floor. The ground shook.

The tremble was what Xalen needed to snap out of his stupor. He opened and closed his eyes as the sensei jumped from branch to branch, firing shot after shot at the enemy below. Amazingly, despite its injury, the Dearg was managing to dodge the attacks. But each one was hit closer to its mark, and the Dearg’s breath was growing heavier with each feint. Junia, on the other hand, was breathing slowly, almost as if she were enjoying a relaxing nap back at Zizor.

C’mon,
Xalen’s inner voice urged.
This is what you wanted. Are you just going to stand back, cowering while a Dearg makes an attempt on your life?
Breathing heavily, Xalen unsheathed his sword. The metallic sound revitalized his resolve.

Yet, despite his newfound determination, he found himself unable to move toward the Dearg. Junia was bombarding the forest with so much firepower, that he was afraid he might be caught in the crossfire if he were to rush in. He would have to wait for an opening.

He didn’t have to wait long. The Dearg, eyeing him with hateful eyes, made one more desperate attempt at him.

That’s right
, mused Xalen.
Run in a straight line so that the sensei has a clear shot at you.

“G’t out of the way, you fool!” came the shout from above.

Xalen had barely enough time to register Junia’s curse when he noticed the blinding light coming from the Dearg’s mouth. No. Not light. Energy shot!

A wave of green came from above, cleaving the creature’s neck. The Dearg’s head flew off, but not before a crimson ray of energy from its innards made its way to Xalen. The young Alioth brought up his sword in a defensive position. Most of the attack, however, made it past the weapon and slammed into his chest. The young Alioth fell to the forest floor, heaving loudly.

A second later, Sensei Barteau landed beside him with a soft thump. She was looking down at Xalen’s chest with a face of both curiosity and admiration.

Xalen’s eyes traveled to his chest, which was now glowing a bright red with the energy it had absorbed.

“I…I…” stammered Xalen. “I’m not a monster. It’s just my heart. It can absorb—”

“Don’t b’ther,” said the Feehan, the red in her eyes was gone, replaced by a bright yellow. “There’s no need in e’splaining what is o’vious.” She scratched her pale chin. “What I don’t understand is the Dearg’s beh’vior.”

“What do you mean?” asked Xalen, not liking the dread in Junia’s tone.

“Dearg’s are v’cious creatures, known to skin their prey alive before feasting on their flesh.” She leaned toward him. “This Dearg, however, was not aiming to kill. It w’nted to capture.”

“Febron mentioned that you had killed more Deargs than any other Alioth. It’s only natural that it would go after you,” said Xalen, not seeing anything strange in the Dearg’s actions.

“It wasn’t try to capture me,” said the Feehan. “It w’nted you.”