The Corin Chronicles Volume I: The Light and the Dark (3 page)

“So tell me, Feliath,” said Sebitatus. “What did become of the Earth woman that spurned Baran’s affections for yours?”

Feliath returned toward his seat. “I refuse to get bogged down with such matters at a time of war,” he said. “Baran overstepped his mark. A woman’s love cannot be bought or controlled, and is certainly no reason to continue with such blasphemous acts as the ones in which he has been engaging. Besides, the truth behind his wrath is far more sinister and has nothing to do with any mortal woman.” He directed his gaze at Auphora. “His ultimate goal is the Red Elixir,” he continued. “For many years, he sought it from my planet, but my refusal to give it to him has led us to this.”

Sebitatus slammed his foot against the ground and walked toward Feliath. “But would it not have benefitted everyone, and maybe even prevented this feud with Baran, if you had shared the Red Elixir with the rest of us, when you first knew of its existence solely on Earth?”

“This is not the time or the place to have this conversation again,” said Feliath, scowling. “The Red Elixir is dangerous, even in the correct hands. Its power goes back to the First Coming, during the times of the demigods. Besides, with the rumors about Baran’s plan to spawn his own children, I had no choice but to make its whereabouts unknown.”

“But do you think that was a decision you alone could make?” asked Craxin. “Hiding one of the most potent forms of magic seen in our galaxy for thousands of years?”

“The risks were too great.” Feliath sat back down. “In the end I was proven right, and the rumors came true, when Baran started to create gods in his own image. Their limitations prevented them from achieving ultimate power. The Red Elixir would have given them just that, which is why it had to be hidden.”

“But do you not see, brother?” said Sebitatus. “Even without the Red Elixir, Baran’s children still wield great power, sharing their life force with their hyper lords.”

“The hyper lords will never be true demigods,” Feliath said sternly. “And with their life force shared, Baran’s children will always be vulnerable, which is why he so desperately wants to assume control of Earth. He will do anything to find any form of Red Elixir that remains. Only with its power can he separate the bond and dependency between them. Crazar, Sontana, and Grogdor—he invades them only in the hope to acquire the Red Elixir.”

“And is there a chance that he may find some?” Auphora held on to his chin as he spoke.

“No, Father,” replied Feliath. “I have hidden every last element left, but Earth is vast, and the emergence of Red Elixir cannot be foreseen.”

Rising from his seat, Auphora walked around the smoldering fortress that was Mount Pyro, his flowing, silver hair brushing against both shoulders. The dark cavern rippled with fire as he addressed his children firmly. “Send all the messengers,” he said. “Send them far and wide, and pass on my judgment. Baran’s petulance ends today.”

As the fires around Mount Pyro burned with ferocious intensity, the cold, frosty breeze surrounding Mount Anobis crackled with tension. The home of the great gods of Corin was wide and vast, with perpetual snowstorms uniquely identifying one of the galaxy’s most sacred mountains. Looking around his immediate surroundings, Baran, the Red God of Corin, rose from his seat with purpose and intent. The ice crystals that surrounded his chambers were exquisitely designed, all bearing the seal of his father, Auphora, under whom he so proudly served for nearly seven hundred millennia. The mood within the fortress was clear and calm. The noise of the flying Zoatans covering acres of the sky above was unable to affect Baran’s deep concentration.

“What’s troubling you, Father?” asked Eclipse, Baran’s eldest son and conqueror of Grogdor. The fair-haired Eclipse stood a few inches away from his father. Beside him, as always, was the gigantic twelve-foot beast that continually watched his every move. Smoldered in hellfire, the hyper lord Diavos was intricately bonded to his master and rarely let him out of his sight.

“Three planets conquered, and yet the Red Elixir evades us,” replied Baran. Even in his human form, he was a man of considerable height. His jaw was chiselled and square. His thick beard was as dark as his eyes. “That concerns me greatly,” he continued. “I also worry that I have no insight into the conversations taking place on Mount Pyro. The number of messengers coming into Corin has diminished in the past few months. Have there been any murmurings across Grogdor, Sontana, or Crazar?”

“No, my lord,” replied Eclipse. “I fear that although the citizens accept you as their new leader, their loyalties still lie with their exiled gods.”

“I should have put an end to those cowards when I had the chance,” growled Baran, sitting back down. “Instead, they stand by Auphora’s side on Mount Pyro, unwilling to challenge me themselves for the right to rule their planets.”

“But do you not think you have done enough, Lord Baran?” said Samtunu Shimway, a human advisor to the gods. Although a plump man, he was extremely intelligent. His words brought about a growl from the Red God, but he continued speaking, albeit in a shakier voice. “Auphora knows what we are capable of. Is it not time we ended this and made the peace?”

The chamber remained quiet, with the Corin gods looking at Baran, waiting for some sort of reaction. The Red God remained rooted to the spot for a few seconds, before slowly rising from his chair with a smile on his face. The winds that smothered Mount Anobis continued to bellow into the chamber, but that was the only sound that could be heard as Baran continued walking toward his trusted advisor. A few seconds of no activity came to an abrupt end with the raise of Baran’s right arm.

As everyone watched, sheets of ice encapsulated his raised hand, and with a forward thrust, multiple layers of thick ice capsules flew toward Samtunu. With his hands clenched, the human desperately tried to move away from the path of the incoming projectiles, but before he could move an inch, the ice smothered his whole body, forming a cocoon around him. Barely a second passed before the ice shattered. The gods shielded their eyes, as shards of ice exploded in all directions. When the ice crystals settled, there was no trace of Samtunu’s body.

Returning to his seat, Baran gently massaged his arms, removing the droplets of water that remained, before looking up at the other Corin gods. “Now, where were we?” Baran’s intent remained clear for all to see. He would not end the conflict until the Red Elixir was in his possession.

1.3

T
HE
B
ATTLE OF
C
ORIN

15 years later

T
he pale, red deserts of Semsena dwarfed all others in Corin, and most across the galaxy. Its endless stretch of land knew no bounds, and with decades of intense fighting, Baran thought it a fitting enough place for the defeat of Auphora’s army. Watching the battle unfold from the top of the largest tower in Semsena, the Red God continued to seethe in rage at the turn in fortune, which saw his army pushed all the way back to what had now become his final stronghold.

“We must surrender, Lord Baran,” said Copelcius, a valued adviser to the Red God. Despite his short, squat frame, he, along with his brothers in arms, had the ear of Baran. Collectively, they had earned the title of “The Philosophers,” a name they came to be known by across the galaxy. “Auphora might show mercy if we put an end to this now.”

“Impossible,” boomed Eclipse. “We will never surrender to him. He preaches about truth and honor, and yet here he is, coming to claim a victory based on treachery and deceit.”

“If I may, Lord Eclipse,” said Copelcius. “There was always the risk that Craxin pledged his allegiances to us under false pretenses. It was a work of genius on Auphora’s part. If Craxin did allow us direct passage into Crandor, we would have marched into Shoraux unimpeded, but his betrayal prevented that. We must now do the only thing left to do.”

“We shall do no such thing,” shouted Baran. “I want you to send all of our messengers. I want every single prisoner that we have taken captive killed. I want it to be violent. I want them to suffer. Let Auphora look on helplessly, as his children are slaughtered by my hands. Make the murder of the Earthians and the Crandorians especially brutal. Let Feliath and Craxin know the consequences of betraying me.”

“But what will that achieve now, Lord Baran?” asked Corinthus, another one of The Philosophers. His thick beard covered most of his mouth, such was its coarseness. “Surely, we might need to start considering a pact with Auphora, especially if this war does not go as planned.”

“There will be no pact. There will be no peace.” Baran walked around the top of the tower, sparing sharp glances at Corinthus. “The skies will rain with death for the remainder of this war. Women, children—it makes no difference. This will be Auphora’s darkest hour, regardless of what happens to me. This is the father I have served so honorably my entire existence, and yet he cannot save my family at this desperate time of need.”

A sudden silence emerged following Baran’s words. On the ground, miles below where they stood, the armies paused as the sheer force of Auphora’s Noboros sent tremors across the land. Their size was almost god-like, the scales around their bodies like forged iron. Baran could only stare, as the fire spewed from the beasts’ nostrils burned effortlessly through the armor of his Akarai warriors. The sight of his soldiers repeatedly falling to their death slashed at the Red God’s confidence, but a sight in the distance reignited his anger, and he struck the tower in rage.

“What is it, Father?” asked Eclipse.

“He dares come here, to my planet, after his betrayal?”

Eclipse approached the edge of the tower and looked down, followed closely by the three Philosophers. “It is Auphora,” Eclipse said, “with Craxin and Feliath. They are here to claim their victory. We cannot let that happen, Father.”

“Auphora gave me Corin to rule because he felt that only I could do it.” Baran’s jaw started to twitch. “But here he is, back on my planet, striving to take it away from me. I think it is time I showed him why
I
am the most powerful being in his universe.”

A sudden chill filled the air, and the top of the tower soon cascaded into a bed of ice. The Philosophers stepped backward, as the Red God began to take his true form. Completely covered in ice, Baran grew taller until the tower began to shake.

Standing at a gigantic twenty feet, the Red God brought a halt to the ongoing battle, a flaring red halo circling his head. The glares from his blood-shot eyes sent tremors to all who witnessed his transformation, but his gaze was directed at the three gods who continued to approach the battle. They maintained their human forms, but Baran could see their eyes fixed on him. Leaping from the top of the tower, he began his descent to enter the battle for the first time, joined mid-flight by Eclipse and Diavos. Then the rest of his children and their hyper lords came alongside him, as he neared the battlefield to face Auphora.

Auphora watched the intensity of the battle, flinching at the clang of swords and the howls of the Noboros. He knew that this course of action was the only one possible. Still, he could not help but feel frustration toward Feliath for hiding the Red Elixir without first seeking his counsel. But his anger was interrupted by a sudden crash, like a meteor striking the plain before him. As the dust began to clear, Auphora caught sight of Baran standing on the field of battle, waiting. The God of Gods raised his right arm in the air, and followed the gesture with a heavy waving of his hand.

A loud horn sounded, and the masses of human soldiers stopped their attack. Even Auphora’s very own Monoroi, who remained the fiercest fighters in the universe, stood their ground, their golden armor gleaming on the battlefield and their fangs trailing down even farther than those of their distant relatives, the Akarai. After the fall of Crazar, Auphora had employed the Monoroi in the war against Baran, and their power to manipulate the elements had yielded the results he had so desperately desired. But for now the Monoroi fell back to Auphora.

Across the plain, and at the beckoning of their own god, Baran’s human soldiers, Zoatans, and Akarai, also retreated.

“Assume advanced battle positions,” said Auphora. He uttered the words so gently that they were barely heard, but his intent was clear.

“BATTLE POSITIONS! ASSUME BATTLE POSITIONS!” The words echoed across the battlefield, continually repeated by the string of riders, who spurred their horses into a line formation. Standing behind the God of Gods, they pressed horns to their lips, emitting the same loud noise as before.

Responding to the call, Auphora’s frontline soldiers steadily retreated to the new line. The Guards of the Realm also joined the retreat, struggling to pull back their Noboros, with thick and coarse chains around the beasts’ necks and legs. The immense mass and strength of the great, scaled beasts made it no easy task. Their tails were the length and girth of two grown men, and a minimum of eight Guards were required to handle a single Noboro. The Noboros screamed and fought against their captors, reluctant to move away from the fray and back into formation.