Origins

Prologue

Vhisola rose amongst the wreckage that had been Metru Nui, her chest heaving with each breath. Her heart pounded like a hammer. Her body was numb, as though it was a separate entity from her throbbing mind. The world seemed to blur and shift around her. She panted desperately, awaiting what seemed an eternity for clarity to return.

"Ehrye?" The word came from her mouth, but it didn’t feel as though she had spoken it.

Silence wrapped its pale fingers around her throat and clenched, but the familiar voice of another pried open its grip.

"Vhisola?"

The Ga-Matoran whipped her head toward the source, her head swimming. Slowly, clarity returned, and she could see the form of Ehrye vaguely visible in the blackness. The sun-holes above had been blocked in the tremor.

"Are--ah--are you okay?" asked Vhisola. "That quake...it was horrible." She grimaced, stifling a cry of pain.

Ehrye stumbled closer over the carnage until his smile was visible, warm and comforting. Redeeming. "I'm...yeah, I'm fine, don't worry." Even in the dark, his eyes themselves seemed to smile, reassuring her. His smile faded into a frown. "Where're the others?"

"I don't know where they are... or if they're even still alive." Vhisola felt like she was going to be sick. "So what do we do now?" she asked shakily.

Ehrye opened his mouth, then closed it and was silent. Vhisola too was speechless. The earthquake had wreaked utter destruction upon at least half of the city. The aftershocks were--well, shocking. All sense of safety robbed from them, the two Matoran had tumbled into unconsciousness. Now they were on the verge of panic as the shadows engulfed them.

But the darkness was not complete. Vhisola scanned the shadows and spotted a weak light. "Maybe they went that way?" She gestured cautiously. It was as if too significant of a movement would be her death.

Ehrye glanced at her, then at the light, raising an eyebrow. "You sure?" he asked.

She hesitated. "No, but is there any other choice? Besides, it's...it's not like there's any other place they could have gone. It’s worth a look, don't you think?"

Ehrye did not respond, already trekking across the debris.

* * *

Nearly a full day--or was it night?—had passed, and their search had merited no results. It was common knowledge now that Mata Nui was their true host, their whole world; logically, there had to be some way out. The light Vhisola had noticed had been hard to track, though; it was brighter toward the end of the cavern, but the tunnel was steel, reflective. Deceitful.

Ehrye pushed through a small pile of rubble, and then paused his work to run to Vhisola's call. The metal wall was cracked--and outside was a paradise.

Trees - flowering plants - grass - and beings of all kinds. Some were recognizable as Matoran and Toa, but others were alien.

For a moment, Ehrye's heart leaped at the possibility of escape, but rationale stifled the impulse. "We cannot leave this way," the Ko-Matoran said dejectedly. "There's nothing we can use to widen the crack." The words burned his throat as he forced them out. "We’re going to have to find another way."

* * *

The dim reflection on the cave walls faded as the Matoran continued their search. They had found a hatch, but it was jammed, the twisted metal impossible to open. Light was blocked--whatever the inside possessed was shrouded in the ever-present darkness. The light dimmed every hour, until further exploration became an impossible task. The two Matoran made themselves as comfortable as they could get on the mounds of protodermic rubble and sank into fitful sleep.

Sunrise arrived, and so Ehyre and Vhisola and decided to explore a tunnel that the Ga-Matoran had found the night prior. After searching the rest of the metallic cavern and emerging empty-handed, it seemed that the tunnel was their only hope of escape.

The light in the cave gradually strengthened as the pair traversed its length. As the two Matoran reached the top of the tunnel, they saw a large hole - it did not lead into the paradise they had seen before, but instead into a second cave. It seemed that they had reached a large cavern, lit artificially. Six tunnels led into six different types of terrain that reminded the Matoran of the island of Mata Nui: fire, water, earth, ice, sand and jungle.

It was, put simply, majestic.

Vhisola and Ehrye ate some of the fruit from the forest area and then began to search the cave.

The cavern was filled with small trinkets, scattered amongst the shadows of the elemental tunnels.

"Vhisola! I found something!" shouted Ehrye.

Vhisola ran to his side and together, they looked at the wall. Inscribed on the wall, in perfectly-readable yet ancient Matoran language, was a story. Together, Ehrye and Vhisola began to read, their eyes widening at the tale the words told:

"Many billions of years ago, two large spiral galaxies collided. As the massive black holes touched in the center, a large blast of pure energy was sent forth and fierce jets of matter spewed from the black hole, planting the area around it with the elements, but also destroying the galaxy. These waves of gas hit a solar system that contained a rocky world known as Spherus Magna. The waves of matter were seeded with the elements needed to make energized protodermis. Over the years, the energized protodermis formed in the planet's core and filtered through to the surface, turning the barren world into a lush planet filled with life."

Their eyes wide, Vhisola and Ehrye exchanged a wondrous look...something incredible had begun.

The earth lives.

The ground quaked.

The creature peered over his shoulder and paused in cleaning its wing. A sort of primal curiosity fell over its expression. Too stupid to be cautious, the beast trotted over to the source of the rumble. A nervous squawk crawled out of its beak into the lifeless desert air.

Nature struck.

A brilliant flash of green disrupted the dry stillness, too fast to track. The creature was dead in an instant, blood flowing freely from punctured skin. A second twin fed on its cousin.

Evolution is relentless.

It refuses to be ceased. Time is its friend. It has no enemies.

Adversity is not in nature's vocabulary.

Evolution thinks big picture, and big picture starts out in a small frame.

Vetus Vicis the foundation. Vetus Vicis is all Spherus Magna knows, is all life knows. Vetus Vicis is the beast, is the hunter.

As nature weaves its needle through the threads of a mortal world, evolution perpetuates and life permeates.

Man plans. God laughs.

The Vetus Vicis is the conqueror of the ancient world. It is the Origins. But even the conqueror succumbs to evolution.

As the years tread over the earth, lightly but gradually, accumulating, the creature transforms. It becomes. It evolves. Soon the Vesta Vic is loosed upon existence, gifted and cursed by the spirits above with intelligence. The beast roams unchained and at its own will, hunting and dwelling where it may. The beast knows no bounds in a boundless world.

The Vesta Vic was three animals. As evolution was threaded soundlessly through the beast, the beast was split into three sentient, wild beings. As the Great Hands that guided the thread descended from the heavens to gaze upon their own terrible, elegant creations, three words emerged from their formless lips as a divine, ancient whisper.

"Agoji."

The word was gentle, calm. Soothing. The beast Agoji absorbed and reveled in the raw, unfathomable emotion summoned forth by that archaic word, blissful. Calmly euphoric.

The forces of nature cast their countenance upon the second being. A second name furiously burst forth, setting the air ablaze and heralding the winds, enraged. Hatred was strength, and strength was power. Power encompassed the beast, blazing, vivid hatred thrilling him, becoming him. Instinct and impulse buried themselves deep, deep within the creature, at its very soul.

"Skrali."

The third and final word was one of surprise. The demeanor of the third creature, bestial as it was, was remarkable. It stalked the deserts with pride, valiance its air. It commanded respect from even the most highly ascended of creatures, and they obliged with a single word.

"Glatori."

And as nature itself left evolution still rampant in their wake and let life guide its own course, the Ancient Chronicle commenced.

* * *


Now, in those days, peace was not in our vocabulary.

Idealists, philosophers, teachers like to pretend and preach that it did. I do not like preachers. They seek serenity, and that I admire, but they seek it through means of deceit and persuasion. Serenity itself is the result of war. My name is Noca. I am a herald of war. I am the bringer of serenity.

In the days of youth, mine and Spherus Magna's, I was a patriot. I still am today, of course--your upbringing has a way of engraving morals deep within you--but I am not nearly as brash, as reckless, as heroic, as utterly stupid and immature. In those days I relished war. Peace was a bore. I fight even more fervently today, but I fight far more grim-faced than my young self did.

Always was the peace disturbed--God, the peace was in a perpetual state of disturbance. The Stone Tribe brainwashed their children practically out of the womb to draw the blood of the enemy. The enemy, of course, was anyone besides the Skrall--those devils were bred and fed racism. A sort of battle-ready calm had unconsciously dug its way into our lives, so used to war were we; we would pleasantly trot down the street with a bloody blade slung over our shoulder and greet the neighbors warmly on our way to the headquarters to prepare for battle.

It was one such occasion I arrived at the headquarters in Magnacus, me and my youthfully exuberant self jolly and ready to rip some Skrall appendages off. Maganacus's history was shrouded by much superstition and mythology--unity, as a matter of fact, was a modern invention. Years prior, the place had been sprawling with religious cults, skirmishes breaking out pretty much every odd day. The common factor in every story was that the city was the fire tribe capital, and apparently it remained that way for a couple hundred thousand years. For me, at least, it meant home.

A familiar voice called out, shakily. "Noca!" I peered over my shoulder. Raginus was smiling warmly, albeit nervously. I always liked him--sincerely, too. If there's anything I'm not, it's a suck-up. By far the most potent, upright soldier I've ever seen, Raginus--and the most modest, too. I bet he slams his head into his bedroom wall every night once for every mistake he didn't make that day, so hard on himself he was. He could be the leader of the entire tribe and he'd think he's the worst soldier, the most undeserving fellow there ever was. The nicest guy, too.

"Yeah, boss?" Raginus was the captain of the fire tribe elite. Not the general--he didn't have the whole army, couldn't mobilize in a battle himself, had to be told to do prior--but he did have the army's best at his disposal.

"C'mere, head over to headquarters with me. Um…glad I found you, actually." He twitched his head a bit.

I giggled. I'd always had a bit of a crush on Raginus--girly of me, really. My youthful immaturity. He was my boss. Besides, love does not persevere in wartime. This is life, not the story scrolls. If you ever reveal that, by the way, I'll slice your head off and feed your bones to the Sand Stalkers. "Alright. What's up?"

"We've, uh...we got some n-news." He stuttered.

I raised an eyebrow. "You okay? What news?"

He avoided my gaze and did not respond. His eyebrows were raised in a strange blend of hopefulness and sympathy. And self-pity. Always self-pity. Raginus was an excellent warrior and leader, but he was not at all skilled at masking emotion. I failed at several times to force flirtation out of my mouth. I was about as socially skilled as Raginus. Perhaps that is what attracted me.

Time passed, the sun raised in the noon sky. The form of the base clarified in the distance, rippling in the heat. Raginus still refused to even look at me.

We entered the steel fortress. Training was active, as always. The place reeked of sweat and masculinity. Feminine presence was discouraged within the army. I and a few others had hitherto proved these beliefs entirely futile. I do like to boast that in my earlier days I was a sort of role model to those who preached equality of every kind. Then again, those weren't the Glatorian in the army.

I waved at a couple familiar faces, averted by face and nose from the stench. Some soldiers barbarically bulged their muscled chest in my direction, as if it were impressive. Bulge your weapon at the enemy, not your chest at your ally. I tossed back a menacing glare in response.

Raginus headed me, guarding me from the wave of testosterone. We paved our path into the conference room, a smallish room packed with solid steel. The room doubled as shelter for the select authoritative few if battle were ever to reach the capital. A few others I recognized were present, and a few I did not.

Arai, default lord of the water tribe, welcomed me with a particularly insincere smile. I'd seen her a few times out on the battlefield, calling the shots from way, way back, totally calm because she never actually did any of the fighting. The woman was brilliant, but she got on my nerves. Still does.

I responded nonchalantly, eyes narrow. I was in strategy mode. "Yo." A grunt came from a being at my side, from a Skrall I did not recog—a Skrall?!

"What?! What is the meaning of this?!" My nostrils flared. I vaguely recall steam blasting out of them. Fury surged through me as an electrical current, my blade whipped out of its sheath in one swift motion. Two men grasped my arms and pulled. Mightily. Strength was necessary to restrain my anger, so vibrant was it. Rage is at its brightest when it is filtered through surprise.

"Noca! Be still!" The request was Arai's. I politely declined the generous offer.

"Noca."

Raginus's voice was gentle, fragile, even. It entered my mind and massaged my spirit. I grudgingly obliged Arai's command. My tense shoulders fell slightly.

A second Skrall entered my field of vision, this one a tremendous mass of bulk. My rage transformed into heated confusion, my brow furrowing. "What is...what?"

The big one I tried to hack to pieces addressed me coolly. His voice was deep, commanding. Dark. It had a presence of its own. "I am Lithon, of the rock tribe." Yeah, pebble-butt, I'm not blind. "My acquaintance you attempted to assault is Pior. I am under the assumption your accompanying partner has informed you of the current state of events. I represent the newly formed Stone Tribe as its leader, and Pior is general of its armed forces.”

I blinked.

Raginus coughed and muttered something unintelligible to himself.

"Um, yeah." Raginus still stuttered. "About that. That briefing never happened."

I felt miserably lost. "Am I the only one who feels miserably lost?"

"No, I'm with you." A Glatorian of the water tribe appeared as clueless as I was, and his face illustrated it in glorious detail. I thought I recognized him from someplace, somewhere on the battlefield. Which made sense, since that's where I always was.

Arai sighed her pretentious, dramatic sigh. "Raginus? If you would?"

Raginus closed his eyes to gather his thoughts for an interminable moment, though when he opened them he seemed as perplexed and nervous as ever. "Pravu, my name is Raginus. Noca, you know me. After what has, trust me, been an incredibly toiling and arduous effort, years of confrences have brought us to an agreement." I assumed 'us' meant everyone fighting. I did not like the sound of this. "Alliances have been formed. Instead of separate warring factions, peace will conquer the destruction that the Glatorian have wreaked upon Bara Magna and form three kingdoms."

This speech sounded awfully rehearsed.

"The jungle, water, and ice tribes will coalesce to form the Sea Tribe, led by Arai. The fire and sand tribes will coalesce to form the Magma Tribe, led by General Acrus. The iron and rock tribes will coalesce to form the Stone Tribe, led by Lithon, as he mentioned. This act has been unanimously approved by all representatives of each tribe." His mouth did not close, as if he wanted to say something else but could not properly verbalize it. Eventually he decided to shut it.

This was a lot to take in.

I was about to answer when Lithon interrupted. I was beginning to like him even less, which made me want to kill him that much more.

"Acrus was killed in battle yesterday. Arai and I have agreed that Raginus will be promoted to his position upon this act's public announcement."

It was Raginus's turn to blink. "Excuse me?"

Arai's face was stoic. "Do you not accept?"

"What? No! Of course I--I mean, yes, I accept! I do not decline. I--yes, yes! Yes!"

I think I blushed, but my memory may have instituted that detail itself. I was far too bewildered to keep control over my body.

Arai nodded approvingly. This part I am sure of. As Raginus finished stammering, she winked in his direction and shook her hips a bit.

My fury tripled.

She gestured to Lithon, who then informed Pravu, Pior, and I that we were to be to army generals of the Sea, Stone, and Magma Tribes, respectively. I was too overwhelmed to process that, to do anything but nod numbly. We were dismissed from the conference room. Pravu got out of there as fast as he could. I got the feeling he was not the sharpest dagger on the belt. Poor guy probably wanted as little to do with politics as possible.

Pior kept tossing me dirty looks. When we were out of earshot in an empty hallway (we'd taken a detour route back to the exit to avoid the mass workout), I decided to vent my anger and grabbed the Skrall by the collarbone, shoving him up against the wall. A knife flashed to his abdomen instantly. He was light and scrawny, I realized. There would be no retaliation from him.

"Listen, pal. I'm probably about as thrilled about the idea that I can't carve up you and your brothers as you are with mine. So I got a pretty irresistible urge to relive some nostalgic memories of blood and gore before I never can again."

He snarled, but remained silent. Smart kid. Anything he said probably would have tipped me off the edge.

I threw him to the ground and sneered at him as he scrambled up and frantically dusted himself off. The rest of his face refused to admit to the deathly fear his eyes expressed. "I'm not gonna do you the dignity of dying by my hands. There're plenty more like me out there, and now there're two tribes of us. Peace is never an option, and don't you forget that. If I'm not watching, someone will be."

I still had the dagger in hand as I left and entered a much darker world.

Chapter 2

Life rides on, as does a tireless horse, but its bones becomes stressed. Pressured. The body cages sheer fiery emotion, but the flame must be channeled in waves. It cannot be released at its fullest. Physicality is a curse. Stress traps the true self within.

Stress surprises, is rooted in the shadowed corners that we once thought empty. If it was visible, we could plan and avoid it. My shadowy corner was Raginus. The hands that weave our Destinies are clever indeed--my body would not resist Raginus, but my very core was too pained in his presence. His mind had become cluttered, his soul purpose turned to politics, business. I was not a member of his life.

That thought tortured me. So I seceded from the Magma Tribe, my people, my heart, so overtaking was it. I succumbed, I admit, and I lived out my days among the Sand Tribe.

The most painful wounds, after all, are immaterial.

***


A sleek metal object entered the atmosphere, hurtling toward the ground.

A bang louder then a million sonic boom.

A light--a million suns bursting.

Morning.

I was sitting in my hut in Karaub, a village in once Sand Tribe territory the Magma Kingdom had absorbed. I swear I felt the planet shake beneath my feet, felt my being rock. The ground itself was displaced in that instant. A blinding white light followed. Far too irrational to reach for a weapon, I collapsed, the raw driving power sending me tumbling. Hurricanes struck.

I am not sure how much time passed. I may have lost consciousness--I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. At some point I emerged and sprinted outside, lost among an immense crowd of equally bewildered Karaubi.

I searched frantically for the source, following the gazes of my neighbors. Smoke was still rising from beyond the Northern Mountains, past the jungles.

***


I awoke, early, to sound. After I'd collected myself I recognized it as yelling. Negatively. Booing. Tired confusion fell over my expression. I stumbled out of bed and out of the hut, half dressed, three quarters asleep but physically poised. Battle instinct could not be beaten out of me with a mallet, that's for sure.

Raginus!

Excitement overwhelmed me. I felt heat sweep through me, and I'm pretty sure I mumbled something incoherent but I can't remember because my mouth was numb. I think I drooled, too.

He was in royal armor. He looked different, changed--better! Muscles bulged from body parts I didn't know he used. He looked cleaner, neater-- not battle-ridden. That modest, small presence was still there, and his eyes still flashed and twitched as always. I guess promotion can't steal away everything.

His eyes bulged, and for once he focused on something. Me. "Noca!”

I giggled a couple minutes too long.

“Oh lord, Noca! It's--we haven't--I--years!” Raginus's smile almost made up for the years he'd missed.

My mouth opened and closed, my posture masculine and proud. I promptly slapped Raginus straight across the face. He stood there dazed for a long, long moment.

Guess he hadn't worked out his cheeks.

"What?"

“When you got the throne...I haven't--you haven't talked to me in an era, Raginus.” Every feminine fiber in my being screamed at my to wrap my arms around him, but I knew better self-discipline than that. Still, my voice wept.

His brow was raised. Genuine concern flooded into his eyes. I saw an arm outstretch, though he thought better and left it limp at his side. "Are you crying?"

What a stupid question.

I yelled, now. "Certainly not!”

Certainly not? Was I taking oration classes?

“Noca...you think I ignored you? I had to make time to see you! And, and I did! I swear it! Business has kidnapped me!” The guy was frantic. “I’m sorry.”

I could do nothing but smile, awesome I am. I practically pounced into a monstrous hug. I tried to wipe away my tears, but the rain didn't stop pouring down my smiling, stupid face. My Raginus was back.

I got off him. An equally idiotic smile was drawn over his lips. A warm feeling erupted within me. “So...um, why are you here?”

He stumbled. Small talk was never his thing. Apparently, clothes did not change that. "Duh, um, I'm sure you noticed that thing up there yesterday. Uh, in the sky."

I chuckled. “Yes, yeah I did. What's that got to do with you?”

He whispered now. “The stargazers have told us kings that it wasn’t a comet.”

I didn't like the way he said that. It was cocky. "What...?"

"It was a spacecraft."

My turn for eyes to bug out of their skull. He covered my mouth before the vocal storm hit. He knew me too well.

“Keep it down,” he said, “No one else knows.”

“Why are you telling me?” Of course, me and my girly young self had to go and use aliens as an excuse to get closer with this month's boy.

“Well, two things. Kings and their generals are heading to the crash site to investigate. Also, you want to be Head General of the Magma Tribe Army again?”

Well, that was blunt.

I was stunned for a second. He was asking me, a female, to be General of an army.

“Why, yes, sir, yes to both,” I stuttered. I made a mental note to bash my head into a wall later that night.

Raginus's voice got all cheerful and cheesy. “Great! Come with me, we're meeting everyone in Roxtus.”

Off we went with Raginus’ guards.

***

Roxtus was a work site, that much was known throughout the kingdom. The place was under constant construction, yet dirty and unkempt as ever. You wondered when the dump was going to be finished. Agori and Glatorian were scattered throughout mines everywhere. Most of it was slavery, too--evolution apparently leaves mentality as primitive as ever. The Agori were starved and weak. The Sand Tribe was renowned for cruel efficiency--the slave market was entirely theirs. One collapsed before me, dead before I clambered over there.

“This place makes me think of death,” I whispered to the dead air as I walked back to Raginus. The wind reeked of it, too.

My voice was low and informal with him. "Where're we headed?"

“Up there,” Raginus answered as he point up to what seemed nowhere in particular.

He didn't have to specify--the place he meant commanded an attention all its own. It looked like what would happen if Death moved into Roxtus and bought himself a nice homey living space. Shaped like a skull, and smelled like one too.

We walked up the obligatory spiral staircase and peered through the open doorway. Faces I regret to call familiar peered back--the Skrall Lithon, and Her Supreme Ultimate Majesty Arai, and that Pravu fellow. I didn't mind the latter so much, but in my short pre-retirement experience as general I'd discovered him to be about as smart as my left foot.

"A pleasure to finally see you, Raginus," That dark voice brought back some unpleasant memories. The Stone King's, Lithon's. “Who's your company?”

Yeah, right, 'cause I'm too lowly to deserve a spot in your precious memory.

Raginus played it cool, politically. He must've honed a skill for that--probably had to, in his position. “You might remember her, the Magma Tribe's former general. She's returned to reclaim her position and as such will accompany us on our journey.” The two of them had a little staring contest for a minute or two.

Arai was visibly irritated and made no effort to hide it. "Let's catch up later at a picnic. We have business to attend to."

What lovely associates Raginus was privileged to spend every waking moment occupying his time with.

***

The trip took about an hour. Pior, Lithon's worker bee, personal butler, and army general, shouted quite loudly his scouts had made the trip in a quarter of that time. That Skrall would sacrifice trust, dignity, and his rear end for his ego.

He, of course, walked a few yards ahead. "It's just over this ridge." His voice was high-pitched and incredibly irritating. Me being an incredibly irritable person did not mix well with his type.

Voices were audible from our height, their source below. Laughter. The chatter sounded lighthearted, almost like banter. I risked a glimpse over.

A tower had been erected. No evidence of a crash remained visible.

In one night?

I gestured to fall back. "Hide." I hissed to the others.

We noticed a couple of robed beings considerably larger than ourselves. Tremendous, elaborate machinery was scattered over the ground, carried by the creatures. I did not recognize the language they spoke. Perhaps they were suggesting plot to conquer our planet and later depart for some drinks?

Arai shrugged almost nonchalantly. “Shall we inquire these beings as to their intentions? They seem great beings indeed--perhaps we might extract some information as to this technology and their whereabouts on our planet?"

I was shocked.

Had she gone mad? Her curtain of extensive vocabulary hid an incredulously naive suggestion. We were to tap these aliens on the shoulder and ask if it would be alright, kind sirs, if we could maybe borrow some of your weapons of mass destruction and maybe come over to chat a bit about our childhoods while we're at it? Was this who was leading a third of our planet?

Naturally, the others agreed and followed at once.

Sometimes I believe the only sanity in this world is my own.

Chapter Three

We proceeded with stealthy caution, avoiding the eye of the beings. I was overcome by a sort of mental sensation, and--

My unvoiced suspicious were confirmed when one of the titans peered over at us with a swift man of his neck. I swear I stared death in the eye...and then he nodded politely and wordlessly resumed screwing around with the heap of technology on the ground. I sensed a similar miserable confusion in the others.

“Come join us, friends!"

I blinked.

“We come in peace, we mean no harm to you or your home.”

Words spewed out of my mouth while my brain caught up with events. "Who--what--who are you? No harm? How can we trust you? Who--how--wha...Why are you here?" Not one of my brighter moments. Pior articulated as much. I ignored him, stifled the urge to turn his face inside-out.

“I am Heremus. I am of the elders among us Great Beings." The being did not turn from his work.

Great Beings. Go figure.

I had the vague feeling he'd sneaked into my mind and pulled out that title. Which, at very least, made it sound a bit less self-absorbed.

"I'd really like to look at your machines!"

Raginus blurted , jittery. I'd never seen him this giddy--he acted as if it was wrong. I giggle a bit, what I thought was to myself. Arai cast me a degrading expression. I waved it off.

Heremus turned, now. His expression was cheerful, almost uplifting of my own spirits. Almost. I was pretty far down running around life-threatening areas with this zoo of buffoons, and not even a smile of that disarming caliber of sheer innocent, warm accommodation would raise me up entirely. "I like your enthusiasm, youth." Raginus was not a youth. "Come enter our workplace, all of you!"

A simultaneous cry of 'Yes!' rang out. Ever-cautious but aware protest would do me no good--especially considering the possibility these guys were actually alright, and I ended up getting on their bad side--my hand did not fall from the grip of my blade in its sheath, ready to shed blood at a moment's notice. Pravu eyed it and nodded approvingly. The man had a decent battle instinct, even if that was as far as he went.

Pior, of course, was apparently taken aback by Heremus's welcoming gesture. "...I think I'll be heading back to Roxtus. I'll check on progress there."

For once Pior was making sense, if for the wrong reasons. "Yeah, I'll go with him.”

Pravu nodded several times. Thought the guy was going to dislocate his neck. "Yeah, boss--uh, bosses, I'm going with 'em. Be too uncufferble being the only non-king and all."

Raginus nodded obliviously, though once he processed it he peered up from obsessing over some glowing hunk of crimson steel. Thing looked like nothing I've ever seen in nightmares. "Alright, be on your way..." He looked me straight in the eye. His eyes were a deep, deep crimson, like a fiery ocean...they were calm, hypnotizing, like the fire that sets the night ablaze and envelops you in its bliss. I felt enveloped in bliss...

They tell me he told me to be careful.

We traveled Roxtus-ward. I left with the impression this would all be smooth sailing. As it turned out, that impression was exactly wrong. On the nose.

***

Armatus lurked the halls of the alien Tower in naive amazement, his jaw gaping. White hair spurted from his wrinkled scalp and fell, unkempt, as an animal. Eras gone had passed through his eyes, and still they remained soulless holes. Back arched over, the sinews of his neck were stretched to their limit as he craned to glimpse at the otherworldly glory.

The dark threads of brilliance--insane, twisted brilliance--weaved through themselves and back again in patternless madness. His mind was not his own. It had been lost to the darkness of obliviousness before the days had been numbered. Yet still it weaved threads through his quivering, twitching skull, guided by those invisible demons it is said all good men must face down.

The wicked do not have to bear such menial burdens. The demons are their friends.

The demons stalk the shadows cast by those relics of evil, of power. The Tower is home to the archaic, is the core of power.

The hermit walks in the shadow of those that walk in the shadows.

***

Yesterday's events still was upsetting me. The paranoid sensation of another mind buried somewhere in mine refused to be shaken. I shivered on several occasions, which prompted high-pitched chuckles from Pior and repeated inquiries of 'Are you okay?' from the Sea Kingdom General, as if he'd forgotten the last answer. He had a good heart, Pravu. It was the brain that got on my nerves.

Paranoia spawns paranoia. Theories swirled in my mind, some rational, others undeserving of being labelled even remotely logical. They ranged from attempting to swindle the military's secrets to the desire to seduce my to disembodied aliens who had sneaked aboard the ship of the 'Great Beings' to find fleshy hosts for their consciousnesses. I felt an awkward and personal vulnerability upon the realization that not only what I struck utterly clueless and currently possessed no means of further uncovering the mystery of the strangers, but the presence in my head could not be rejected. I did not even know if whatever it was was conscious I knew.

I wondered, briefly, if my associate generals should be informed of my state, as it may be a potential threat to the security of all species, which then prompted the curiosity as to whether they felt a similar intrusion. I decided against it. The two of them are too stupid to be aware of yesterday's dinner leaving their digestive tract.

For once, I had a lot of time to think--today was battle training, required of all soldiers, a regimen I had not practiced in a long while--so naturally, it had to be inconveniently timed when all my thoughts were centered around irrational, baseless paranoia. At least it helped my training. I work best when I do not ponder on my movements and simply let my body flow. I must admit I am quite naturally inclined toward combat--my body moves as one of liquid, elastic and poised.

A figure became visible in the distance. I squinted--we were in the isolation of the desert, and the noon sun blazed dazzlingly above. The silhouette of a jogging--no, sprinting--Agori became clarified. Poor guy had no animal. Pravu took advantage and abruptly knocked the wind out of me and sent me tumbling flat on my butt. Pior started preaching about attention, stopped when he noticed the Agori.

He ran close enough for us to hear him. I could make out heaving, rapid panting. The stench of sweat entered my nostrils, to which we all had visible reactions. Which was saying something, us being out in the battlefield twenty four-seven. An Agori of my own fire tribe. He began waving a letter and collapsed at our feet.

"My lords...My generals, sirs...sirs and madam...I wish to--"

"Whoa there, take it easy, brother." Pior took his hand and cast his shadow over him to ward off the heat, which frankly didn't do much considering how skinny it was.

"Do you need rest?"

God, Pravu, shut up.

I snatched up the envelope and tried opening it. It was crudely sealed. Too much adhesive, all over the place. I resorted to ripping it open and tore the letter within, which didn't matter much since the only three words within were gigantic.

Don't trust them.

Chapter 4

Morning dawned, calm, dry, and blazing hot. I was, however, in no mood to appreciate nature and worldly beauty. Hot weather and I did not mix--not that I'd ever admit that out loud, of course, what with being Fire Tribe and all. Besides, my head was already plenty hot enough. The extra heat just scorched.

It didn't exactly improve my temper any either. I growled several obscenities. I'm pretty sure I got a couple tisk-tisks from some low-classers who didn't realize who they were dealing with.

So yeah, great day.

The letter we had received was fresh in my mind. It had overwhelmed my thought processes, to be honest. It was probably the leftover paranoia--the psychic link that had haunted me had dissipated somewhat, and I felt it fading away, but it wasn't gone yet--but nevertheless, I had the thing memorized. Every trace of a life, every imperfection in the print.

We still didn't know who the 'them' was. We figured the Great Beings were a safe bet, but naturally the professional advisers we'd called it to analyze it dismissed it as speculative.

You don't win wars by being conservative and checking evidence, I can tell you that much.

About them...

I searched for the handle to pull on a push door, earning myself a smirk from a passing Glatorian. I imitated the gesture in kind. My mind had wandered again. Shaking my head, I mentally tied myself back to reality and shoved on.

My irrational paranoia had subsided significantly since yesterday, regardless of the letter we had received. Lucky me, they had evolved into slightly more rational fears, like being strapped to one of those pieces of machinery I had seen on the spaceship and being fused with a machine.

Right, like that's going to happen, I chided myself, for perhaps the thousandth time. Of course, the same reply came right back to me.

Maybe...

I threw it off with an inward laugh, nervous. I stifled that, too; I was not nervous, and I would be caught dead noticeably so. I faked contentment, but irritation and worry slipped through the cracks.

Breakfast usually relaxed me, if for no other reason than to preoccupy me. That, naturally, got me wondering as to whether they were cannibals. I gently put down the food and headed off for some business.

The other generals had arranged a meeting to try to make more sense of the message. I expected baseless conjecture. The Agori who had delivered it was being treated--seemed his knockout when he'd dropped it off had gone deeper than appeared. No good asking him, then.

I trotted out into the courtyard, and shot my usual downcast glare at Pior, who pretended not to notice. We'd worked it down to rote by now. Pravu was staring at the message in a magnifying glass, either ignoring my existence or forgetting it entirely. I blinked, resisting the urge to bash the glass over his head and scold him under he finally understood the magnitude of his own stupidity. Something like, “Good morning.” came out instead, through clenched teeth. The Sea Tribe general quit the dumb looks, blankly handing me the paper. I noticed signs of exhaustion in his eyes, and I was willing to bet they'd been up all night staring at the letter. I rolled my eyes. Stubborn and stupid. Brilliant combination.

I shrugged my shoulders, not glancing at the paper.

"So I take it no mysterious voice from above told you what in God's name this thing means?" I asked, not a touch irritable. Pior sneered at me. I was willing to bet that Pravu was hoping that that would make a guest appearance right around now.

The sun was well up, and so was the heat. Apparently, my fellow generals had made the mistake of choosing a sunny part of the courtyard to meet in. Already my steel armor was hot to the touch. Sweat dripped within the padded armor. I was getting cooked.

"This is insane." I hissed. Nice job hiding the anger, Noca. "What're we doing in the heat? There better be a flood coming." My companions took the sideways hint. We moved towards the nearest patch of shade.

There wasn't much to discuss, so I didn't really know why the meeting was called. We had already tossed around every imaginable possibility yesterday. For a few minutes, we tried offering awkward suggestions, but the talk wasn't really flowing.

So I directed my attention toward the courtyard. It amazed me, the different faces. It was like a painted picture, so rehearsed it seemed. Diversity and equality were trapped in a cage. I was pretty sure dignity and chivalry had landed there, too. One face in particular caught my eye, a new one. A scraggly old man, low to the ground, a primal look in his eyes. I was distracted by the sun intruding upon my shade. I cast a deathly look at the far-off fiery orb.

"Good morning, generals." The same archaic Agori. A quick glance at all of us noted our individual existences for a brief moment. How thoughtful. His eyes lingered on me for a little longer then the others, and I fixed him with a dead-on stare, my hand to the hilt of one of my knives. It was unusual for me to hide my temper; most days, I would've belted him for that. The guy thought better of it, gazed past me and pretended it was where he'd be looking all along.

"Yes...?" The question hung in the air for a moment. He didn't meet my stare for more then a few seconds before his eyes resumed their darting.

"I take it a Agori messenger met you yesterday?"

Pravu cut in. "Yeah, he's gettin' feel-good over there now." He gestured to east of the hospital, moved his finger. "What about it?" The hermit's eyes rested on him for a few seconds before returning to normal.

"I sent him before I traveled personally. I thought you might want advance warnings."

"Warning?"

"These newcomers, the Great Beings... They've convinced your kings to back them in their research, but what might interest you more then that is this other little fact."

He paused for dramatics, then continued. Pior tapped his foot impatiently. If there was one thing the military taught me, it's respect. You don't screw with your superiors, or else you end up leading a mysteriously vague one-man rescue mission in a scorching food-lacking desert off the mountains.

"They, ah, have been brainwashed. They are a tad bit in the eternal servitude of the Beings."

Silence.

"Right, gramps. And why exactly should we trust you?"

Way to show some sense, Pravu. Never expected it.

The hermit smiled a black-toothed smile. He'd been waiting to hear those words. He rummaged through his coat for what seemed ten minutes. I recall he had one pocket.

The hologram phased up. My eyes bugged out, my voice a hoarse whisper on wild noon winds.

"Raginus... No..."

* * *

The decision took thirty minutes. I was not happy. Everything but.

"How can we...you trust...you honestly--" My emotions were a bit unkempt, I admit. A lovely blend of fury, helpless confusion, hopeless depression, burning anticipation, and a feeling of falling swirled around. I did not exactly feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"Unquestionable proof, Noca. We may not know to what extent that report was genuine but we do now he's got your boyfriend."

That shot me through the roof. I hit atmosphere. In the event that select readers of my texts may find it inappropriate I will refrain from repeating the words that exited my mouth.

"Noca, will you shut up? They have ultimate power at their disposal. We will not go on a rescue mission to retrieve our superiors. An authority greater than our own has been taken captive, and you expect us to successfully return with them? We do not possess any inkling of the abilities of these warriors."

I was not in the mood for rationality. I went for the throat.

Pravu held me back. "Noca, he's right. They could get back anytime themselves, maybe even. We need to take over before that happens."

"We can't risk any more delays." Pior's voice was wicked, calculative. He was not helping a lot, enjoying my discomfort a lot. I get the sense he was never smooth with the ladies.

I could not get a 'but' in. Trust me, I tried.

"It's settled. Let's get moving."
***


I was feeling a bit more relaxed. Content, not in the slightest. But I had grudgingly succumbed to reason, despite it being from the ugly face of Pior. Minor civil unrest had emerged, and I had the lawful right to fight back with whatever means necessary to restore peace. A bloody knife always calmed me down.

My outside was just ticked off. My inside was eating my outside for lunch. My terror for Raginus had taken precedence over concern for the Magma Kingdom. The ultimate defeat, which naturally I was too proud to admit to. Love was bigger than the job. That led to corruption, as the ghost stories go. I refused to acknowledge that lives might be spent because of my own immaturity.

God, I was young.

I recalled the insane fears that I pondered on when the messenger had first arrived...

Insane? Pretty true to life.

A system of messengers and sentries had been organized to alert us immediately if the kings were to return. Pravu and Pior's forces were lying in perpetual wait, ready to fall into position at the first knowledge of the king's location. Their private armies were performing the general military duties, so stuff got solved faster, but if real war broke out we'd all be screwed.

My troops were also ready, but would be following a more orthodox method, simply marching out with the pretense of welcoming the kings back. As such, I had decidedly fewer troops, but they would be on their own quite enough to defeat the parties of the kings. The rest of my guys were the fallback if we got massacred out there.

We were scared.

Only the immediate areas surrounding our palaces had received word of the true rulers' absence, and in a short time revolt had already broken out. If they didn't get their butts back here by the time the rest of the world found it we'd have civil war.

I exited the building, fully armed. I was prepared only physically. My mind was a tornado of terrified paranoia about everything from love to life to dinner. My troops were waiting and ready, hopefully more than me. I screamed a bit to spike moral, though I must've seemed more insincere about it today. Frowns were prevalent. Routine checkups on inventory and preparation and the like were all fine. I wanted to get out of there soon as possible.

They got themselves set up, and we set out for a brisk jog.

***

The place we had set was at first sight entirely unimpressive. The road was wide, and the ground around it was reasonably clear. A small party would have been able to disguise them well enough behind the terrain.

We were not a small party.

The road crossed between twin rocky hills. Both of them were several hundred feet away from the road, and any ambush from there would be spotted easily, and whatever party on the road could easily escape before they got their hands dirty.

Great. We'd have a wonderful escape plan, and terribly ineffective offenses.

My party marched along the road bold as brass; ambush was not our purpose. We slowed down considerably as we neared, fearing we'd overshoot. We needed decent surveillance--if we got too far they might slip past our field of vision altogether.

I patted myself on the back when troops began to materialize in the distance. The wind was up today and so was the sand. Had we been moving faster, we would've met them out of the range of the ambush spot.

I once again tried using logic as a tool to untie the knot of fear. I once again failed.

My troops were arrayed in standard marching formation. I told them to imagine they were walls. That helped some. Convince someone they've invincible and willpower will conquer, assuming skill is adequate. In that, I was confident. That was the base of my entire soldiering mentality.

Pior and Pravu's troops gave us the high sign they were ready to go. They lie in wait back at the hills. The plan was I'd go first, then if we got killed the kings would get reckless and charge and get ambushed, then if Pior and Pravu got killed the rest of my troops would attack full-force. I was told I had to stay alive at all costs to order them. I reminded them I was not suicidal.

Good thing all that could go wrong was the whole thing.

***

We drew to a stop as the kings’ party grew closer. My eyes flicked from one figure to another as I numbered their escort--no more than three dozen.

I breathed the largest sigh of relief I had in my life.

They were expecting no army! They thought they could sneak through!

My eyes stopped frantically calculating fixing themselves on the form of the head of the party.

The splendidly arrayed figure of Raginus.

My heart throbbed, and the command for retreat crawled up my throat. It was an uncomfortable sensation.

But I pressed on, shoving it down. That was not lovely either.

Duty called.

Who am I kidding? One day my knife will be on the other side of Pior, Pravu, Arai, Lithon, that old Agori. Those Great Beings.

Or I could just run...

Nah. If I wanted to run, I wouldn't have gone in the first place. There were safer places. Yeah, like hiding under my bed from aliens.

I shook my head, and drew my soldiers to a halt. My eyes were somber. An unbearable weeping seeped through them, and I feared the flood. I closed them, welcomed the black oblivion. Ignorance is bliss. I let my hand guide itself, salute of its own accord. I would not be held responsible for whatever ensued, even if only in my own mind.

At once the ambush rocketed into action. My soldiers formed a compact wall of shields, with spears and swords making it look like a pincushion. Pior and Pravu spearheaded formations of half of each of theirs respective forces, the others remaining at the hills with arrows nocked.

Caught by surprise, the leaders and their escort froze for an interminable moment. I felt a life pass through my own soul. I was not sure whose it was, and I preferred to keep it that way.

My eyes, as they opened, locked with Raginus's. His quivered. I believe mine had gotten far past that stage and the storm had arrived. His brow was furrowed like a forest. Was that...confusion?

Could it be...?

I could not fathom the rage evident on Arai. She had stored that anger for centuries far too many, and it released in a glorious blaze of raw malice. A mad torrent of screams was unleashed on the world. Lithon looked as if he were going to destroy our forces himself, hammer raised and nostrils pulsing like a bull.

I did not, could not notice. My eyes remained in Raginus's.

Lithon was the first to gather sense. "What! What is this?" He roared.

"Noca... W-what?"

That voice...

I looked at him, my gaze that of a newly widowed woman.

"Raginus...I know you are not...you." The words were physically painful.

Arai shot a shrill scream again.

That enraged me. Anger replaced sadness. I was given an opportunity to loose emotion from my physical cage onto the mortal world, and I took it. "We are not fools. Surrender!"

"Have you thrown away your senses?" Lithon broke in. He sounded a bit irritated, I thought. "This is treason!"

"Against kings, no less!" That was Arai, though it took me a few seconds to interpret the high pitch.

Knives flashed through my fingers.

"The only treason is yours! Will you come, or must we massacre your escort first?!"

Raginus glanced at Lithon. Helplessness echoed.

I heard a murmur. Something about forfeit.

A wild burst of curses broke forth. Steel whipped through air.

Lithon was drawing his breath in for another torrent when a gleaming pinwheel of metal flashed past his face, slashing off a section of his helmet. The ever-faithful soldier behind his lord found himself less lucky. He fell, arm bloodied, and let out a shriek, cut it short in favor of masculinity. That proved futile as he whimpered like a tame animal.

"I'll. Give. You. One. More. Chance," I grated out slowly. Already my dagger lined with the Skrall's throat.

Raginus, firm for once, whispered.

"We surrender to your madness."

***

Ragiunus...

The ambush had gone well. Officials were impressed.

Raginus...

I huddled in my blankets. I am a child. I am helpless, I am hopeless, I am nameless, I am homeless. I am soulless.

Raginus...

Agony but swept through my body. The pain was its knifing through my soul.

Raginus...

I am torn apart, ripped into pieces, scattered among foreign grounds.

Raginus...

I will kill.

Insane rage burned in me, leaking through my scarlet irises. Blood pulsed. I felt an inner sun's fury as my own.

I will kill the hermit.

I will kill the Great Beings.

I will kill the enemy.

I will kill them all.

Raginus...

I stalked the shadows. Demons lurk in shadows, and I felt their touch. I felt their whisper, their beckon...Come...Feel me...Kill...Kill...Kill...

Raginus...

***

Feeling and consciousness had fled me. I was numb, a shell, my mind comatose and my body possessed by that force that drives us all to madness and to love.

The execution platform hung before me. I saw ghosts float gently over its surface, lone tears forever drawn on their faces in an eternal anguish. Their torment would not end. Their torment was forever. Their existence was torment.

I saw the Hermit.

Pior stood tall, Pravu too tall to stand low. They were noticed. I was not. My shoulders were slumped to the ground, my muscles aching beyond the point of feeling. I stood in the place of honor.

There was no honor in this.

The prisoner carriage rolled its way towards us. My eyes shut of their own accord.

The legends say death is slow in its arrival. They say the prisoner carriage stalks toward you as love climbs out chained and bloody, that you hear death's whisper upon your own lips as he faces his. They say you wish to the powers that be for your souls to be exchanged, for you to endure the fate of your twin half.

They lie.

There was no encounter with the otherworldly spirits, with devils, with angels, with death. My mind was far too lost to acknowledge its existence. Death came and went.

I felt its breath upon my lips, its taunting kiss.

And then death was gone.

Chapter 5

"Maybe this wasn't such a bright idea."

Dear God, did Pravu really just say that? I know he's a moron, but...

Pior concurred in his tinny little voice, which far from soothed my frazzled nerves. "I agree. Our kingdoms are no longer kingdoms, friends; they have become a large, collective army, and our citizens have begun noting your mistake."

Your mistake?!

I opened to reply heatedly, but Pior held up his frail hand (and oh, how I felt like breaking it from his wrist and proceeding to choke him with it) and frankly refused to shut up.

"Management of the military is our only trained skill. Granted, we are skilled at it--nay, the best--but when it comes to possessing the diplomatic finesse and austerity needed to run an entire kingdom, we're....lacking."

I'll show him lacking, that frail, ungrateful little--

I became suddenly struck by verbal diarrhea. "We can do it! We are better than our leaders, better than the old leaders, better than--"

Raginus.

I felt something lodge in my throat. A sob crawled up and out of my throat, through my mouth, my nostrils, my eyes. My breathing became frantic, tears storming.

Raginus.

He had been abused, controlled, possessed as an object. We had--I had killed him. I had ripped away his life. Clumsy, pitiable, brilliant, muscular, selfless, beautiful Raginus.

"We did the right thing, Noca," came Pravu's baritone voice, which only supplied more flame to my burning fury. Yes, we had, but did I have to be reminded? Was that supposed to be reassuring?

I won't deny it, the thought of killing both of those idiots flashed through my head, flashes--premonitions?--of killing them and adopting their kingdoms, watching as the world beyond Magnacus crumbles and falls beneath me.

A girl can dream, can't she?

The truth behind Pior's words swept all emotion on way. Politics had no place for feelings, for bias. Emotion is the source of impulse, of corruption. I loathed to admit it--oh, did I hate it so--but he was right.

"So," I started, trying and failing to keep my voice level, "What do you propose we do?"

I felt the words stabbing my windpipe as they made their way through my mouth and into the ears of two fools.

Silence spoke louder volumes than words. Pravu voiced all our thoughts.

"Let's see the Hermit."

*******

"What do you expect I do?"

Now, I don't like a lot of people. Most people. But hatred is, as children know, a strong word. Hatred is the ultimate, unmatchable despise of the very existence of another creature. Hate is everlasting. Hate is ingrained into your very soul. There is no 'hated.' Hate is eternal, as is love.

I hate the hermit.

Yes, he had opened our eyes to the truth of the strangers that came from the spacecraft. Yes, he had opened our eyes to the truth of our leaders' brainwashing. Yes, he had put us in charge of the kingdoms we served so faithfully for years. That does not impact my hatred. Noca-brand hatred is truly unwavering.

"Help us!" Pior's voice cracked.

Oh, Pior. How pathetic your frail little voice sounds, your frail little mouth that I wish I could tear off that frail little body...

The Hermit was adamant, as an immature child. "I cannot." His smug face was asking for a breaking.

"I can make you," said Pravu, as if his muscles could force the Hermit to change his mind. The Hermit grinned in reply. He stated it almost matter-of-factly.

"You could beat me within an inch of my life, and I would be more powerless than I am now. Doom yourself, fool."

"I'm considering it."

I interrupted, desperate. Lives and the peace that we had devoted our very beings to were at ultimate stake, and they were playing games. "Please, Hermit. There must be...there is something you can do."

The Hermit's grin grew maliciously wider. His teeth were black and yellow. Life meant nothing to him--not others, not his own, not its joys. I felt no pity. Wickedness replaces that in a person which makes him pitiable. He is only pathetic.

"Don't go anywhere." He trotted excitedly, like an animal, over to another room in his hut. The sun had moved visibly when he returned, the same smug grin pasted on his face. A piece of paper was gripped by his twitching hand. Pravu snatched it and read it. The guy looked like he was counting up his life's savings, so toiling was the effort he made. He was not particularly literate.

"What is that?" I asked suspiciously. The Hermit's smile actually grew some more, if that was possible.

"This, Noca, is a treaty I've spent the last few hours on." A few hours, huh? Sounds like it was personal in his heart. I did not like the way he said my name, as if there were disgusting intentions behind it. I told him so. He responded by giggling madly.

"It needs all of our signatures to be effective, but if it is ratified, I will handle the diplomatic end of all three kingdoms. I will handle those aspects of the profession you cannot as an adviser, and you three will retain power all the while, even when you're off at war.

My jaw dropped. That would make him the most powerful man on Spherus Magna. He can't possibly be serious--

Pior took a pen, dotted it in Thornax ink, and signed.

"Pior, we should discuss--"

"Shut up, Noca! You're just power-hungry, that's all you are!" Pior's frail body quivered in anticipation.

I hoped that Pravu would show some honest intelligence for once, or at least some intuitive concern, but after a few long-winded moments of painful thinking his hand sped to the contract.

Which left me.

Six expectant eyes stared at me, and I got the feeling if I didn't sign, I would be killed, and another, more willing leader would simply take my place. Awareness that you are disposable is not a pleasant feeling.

I gulped. The pen seemed to float to my hand, and I don't think I looked as I signed.

"Well, that's that. You're all fired."

******

I screamed.

It ripped through the soundless, dry desert air, echoing to the point of madness. It did not soothe me whatsoever, and did nothing to ward off the sensation I was drowning in my own stupidity. Pravu, behind me and walking with enough fervor to rival the sun, looked as if he wanted to punch something until it stopped moving, which was arguably his only real talent. Behind me, Pior was actually trying to soothe us, which only provoked my murderous impulses.

"The Hermit knew what he was doing. Maybe this will still turn out for the be--"

Pravu's moronic, raw rage was seething at every orifice.

"We should both kill you right now." I felt a surge of goodwill towards him for a moment. That was swiftly quelled by the hatred that burned for the Hermit.

We had been tricked. We've been tricked all along. The leaders were never brainwashed.

Raginus's face flashed through my mind, and a single tear ran down my face, dried mockingly by the desert sun.

Chapter 6


I had never crawled on all fours like a beast before. Being to all intents and purposes the most powerful being on the planet before now, the thought had never occurred to me. I was too tired to walk upright as my pride would normally dictate. A burning sun beat down on me and my fellow outcasts, draining us of our last bit of energy since the food had run out. The open desert plains were a harsh place, even for hardened warriors. Pravu and Pior were some distance behind me, but that mattered little. None of us knew where we were going, and cared even less. The one thing I desired more than water was the chance to plunge one of my throwing knives into that cursed "hermit’s" beating heart.

Soon though, all vain wishes and desires blurred into a bright yellow haze that bordered on unconsciousness. I could faintly hear the ragged breathing of my comrades nearby. Before drifting off into what I was certain would be my final sleep, I thought of Raginus; I thought of war and pretended peace; I thought of betrayal. I also remembered thinking that it was strange that a shining tower should be off in the distance not a mile away.

***

As my eyes snapped open, my hidden blade was out of its sheath and at the neck of the being standing over me.

“It’s alright,” the figure said. “You are meant no harm.”

I eyed the unfamiliar being suspiciously. “Where are my companions? What has been done with them?”

“Look beside you and you will see.”

Doing so, I saw Pravu and Pior on beds similar to mine.

“They have not awakened yet,” said the strange being.

Relaxing my grip on the dagger, but not lowering it, I peered into the eyes of the other. “Who are you and where is this place?”

“Forgive me; I had forgotten that you have never seen one of us without a shroud. n unfortunate miscalculation of your behavior on our part, I'm afraid. The last time you came to this place, you did not stay long.”

Realization finally came to me like a blow to the head. This was a Great Being. “But… we are your enemies.”

A cautious smile appeared on the his face. “We have no enemies, only those who don’t understand us. But this talk can come later, when your friends have woken. You must have unwittingly wandered close to our dwelling place. If you had not, the desert would have surely killed you, judging from the lack of nutrients in your packs. Food and fresh water will soon be available to you, as well as any mechanical work you may require for repairs.”

In stunned silence I ate and drank my fill, and watched first Pior, and then Pravu come out of their sleep. The Great Being came in and out of the chamber, bringing all that he had promised. Presently Pravu spoke.

“Well, if this is what I think it is, and that’s assuming we’re not dead, I think we’ve all been wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!” He said this with a contempt for himself that I had begun to feel myself. I looked down at my hands. These hands had murdered their rightful rulers, and would have, if given the chance, tried to do the same to the ones who now showed them kindness. I shuddered.

“I think… I think you are right.”

“What are you two saying?” Pior broke in. “That these invaders are actually “peaceful” and they never meant any harm? I hope you can hear yourselves. Just look at what they've done to our planet with so much as making a raid! Why would they take us in if they knew we wanted to kill them? This is obviously a trick.”

I stared in disbelief at Pior. “After all that’s happened; after our supposed ally, that filthy worm, the one who we thought brought evidence against the Great Beings, betrayed us and cast us out, you still believe his lies? Look around you. This is not a prison.”

The beginnings of words formed in Pior’s mouth, but he remained silent as the newly met Great Being entered the room. I don’t know why, but I was starting to feel relaxed around him. He had a certain air that made you trust him. That also made me suspicious.

“Um… sorry. Did I interrupt something?” Our host stopped advancing into the room, seeing Pior’s clenched, but thankfully silent, jaw. “ And I don’t mean to pry into your business, but three high ranking generals like you alone in the desert with little provisions leaves very few possibilities to hypothesize.”

He reminded me that their species’ mode of speech was very… technical, for lack of a better word.

“No, you’ve actually got it right. It was all because of-“

“Wait. I’ve been practicing this.” The Great Being closed his eyes and then said, “The hermit, Armatus, am I correct? Mind reading is a delicate business, even for us, though I hear some of the female members of your Rock tribe have spontaneously gained the ability... Yes, we knew he was skulking about in our tower, spying. But he did us no harm, so we let him be.” He laughed, a sound I hadn’t heard for weeks. “Actually, it was rather amusing at the time- but I see it hasn’t turned out so amusing for you.”

Pravu looked agitated. “Uh, yeah, whatever. Look, just give us our weapons back and we’ll be on our way.”

“But your weapons were never taken from you.”

Pravu looked, and saw that it was true. “Oh…er, thanks.”

“But you don’t have to leave just yet. While my brothers and I may be peaceful, we aren’t dim. Under their present ruler, your kingdoms are even more of a threat to us. We would appreciate your help, if of course you are willing to offer it.”

I still had doubts, but it would have been just plain dumb to refuse his offer. I was going to get back my kingdom any way I could. “Alright, we’ll do it,” I said.

Pior finally spoke his thoughts in front of the Great Being. “I guess both of you are foolish enough to throw your lot in with them, but I’m not. Yeah, I’m going to take back my kingdom, but I can do that without alien help. I’m going to Roxtus. My soldiers will follow me, no matter what an old betrayer, or any of you, say.”

With that he walked out of the room, doubtlessly toward the exit, wherever that was. For the first time since our mutual takeover of the kingdoms, I was glad to see him leave. I turned to our calm host, not knowing what to expect.

“Well,” he said, “Let’s start out with some new armaments. You won’t be able to storm Magnacus alone without, shall we say… upgrades.”

That made my throwing hand tingle with anticipation. Fighting, real fighting. No cowardly backstabbing.

Our host, who I couldn’t help but associate with the unfamiliar word "kind", was about to leave when a thought occurred to me. “What is your name?”

“My name is Angonce.”

***

The palace doors flew off their hinges with a loud crack and bang! The explosive rounds my new weapon fired didn’t stop to argue with hinges and locks. I called it a thornax launcher.

“Where is that little worm?” Pravu said, knowing perfectly that our enemy was sitting there on the thrown; or he should, anyway, since he was pointing his weapon at the scum. The Magnacus guards hadn’t put up much of a fight. Some resisted but most stood down when they recognized us. I could see attendants scurrying away, leaving us alone with the former hermit. I was very pleased at that.

“What is the meaning of this?” Armatus said. “You are no longer welcome in my kingdom. We agreed-“

“We were betrayed!” I was fuming.

Pravu followed up, “Now you’re gonna get what’s coming to you.”

I advanced on Armatus and he, true to character, scrambled behind the throne and tripped. He wasn’t heavy to lift.

Seeing the battle light in Pravu’s eyes, and mine, he decided to play it safe. “Please!” he said in a whimper. “I’ll do whatever you want! Yes, take your land back. It’s yours! Just let me-”

Armatus was cut off for the second time since we’d arrived, this time by Pravu’s fist. “I’ve had about enough of him.” Now he looked unsure. “But now what do we do, with him I mean. Do we hang him just like- like we did to the others?”

I was in a quandary as well. All the events of the past months, all the mistakes I had made, all the things he had done. I was in a position every honorable warrior dreaded the first time. I had my enemy in my hands and he was helpless. Did I kill him or let him live? That thought shocked me a little. I was a veteran fighter of the Magma Tribe. Such naïve things were for green soldiers, not me. I definitely felt no pity for the vile creature. The guilt I felt toward myself at my recent wrongdoings were still outweighed by my hatred toward him for them. But the question remained. It didn’t feel right to just dispatch him, just like we had Arai, Lithon, and…

My eye started to tear up at the last name and I punched it away more than wiped it. “I know what we’re going to do,” I said.

Grabbing Armatus, I dragged his limp form to the open balcony of the palace. Pravu seemed to know what I had in kind, and he bellowed at the crowd below in the city streets.

“Listen! Hear what your queen has to say!”

The masses went still, and I prepared my speech. “You know this being?” Pausing, I held up the hermit. “When your rulers, the three tribal leaders were slain, it was done because he had sold false information; information that severely weakened our trust in the visitors, the Great Beings, and our trust in our rightful kings. His lies caused death and strife, but we believed them. More of his trickery earned him the throne to the kingdoms, and we were banished. But now I am glad this has happened, because we have seen the ones we thought were our enemies. We have been with them, and it has convinced us of the same thing that Raginus-" I choked on the word, but went on, “-Arai, and Lithon were convinced of. The newcomers are not here to fight us. They are not here to invade. They are peaceful. And now that you know this, what would you have done with this traitor?!”

The crowd of Spherus Magnan inhabitants had obviously taken in and accepted my words, rushed as they were. A jumble of shouts came in reply to my question, but the meaning of it was obviously “give him to us”. I did so. I think Armatus must have awoken in midair because he screamed as he plummeted into the awaiting hands of his former subjects. I doubted he had been a kind task master.

“Well, that’s done.” Pravu’s words summed it all up. What more needed to be said? He had a knack for saying little but meaning much, though perhaps sometimes unknowingly. A less than willing leader admired by his soldiers, he had taken up the mantle of general, so long ago it seemed, with a nod and a shy grin. In fact, he was very much like Raginus had been. I remember smiling at him.

***

The Stone King Pior slouched in his rock throne. It felt good to be back in it. Whatever remorse he tried to conjure up because he was sitting in Lithon’s place didn’t come. He didn’t care. He was the stronger. And because he was stronger he would do what that fool had been too afraid to do. He would declare war, total war, on anything non-Stone Tribe. If Noca and Pravu didn’t see sense, that was their fault. And despite what that scum Armatus had done to him, he was still right about the newcomers. They were too powerful to be trusted. True, there were rumors that many of the seven old factions within the three kingdoms wanted to split. It didn’t matter, even if it happened to him as well as his onetime partners. Rock was stronger than anything thrown against it. He would do it out of spite.

“Just like old times,” Pior thought cheerfully.