Prologue
The two combatants worked each other over, throwing punches, slamming into walls, shaking the very bedrock of the foundations of the practice room. Their metal bodies crashed together with a resounding clang. The giant twelve-foot Guardians attacked each other with vigor as each massive armor-clad individual wrestled the other in a battle of wills and superiority. The noise level alone deafened anyone watching the exercise. The Guardians were the defenders of Akkadia. No need arose for their use in the passing of eons, as the Akkadians lived fifteen miles below the earth’s surface, unbeknownst to the humans that lived their lives above.
As the Guardians practiced, a notification siren blared throughout Akkadia. Prince Pikkar nodded to General Nutrion, the Guardian Guilds First Council, pulling him away from the commotion to the other side of the training facility. Even with the general’s immense height, he needed to gaze up at the prince to meet his eyes.
“You wish words?” the General asked.
“The Reaction Lift with the envoy of women goes to the surface again this eve. We could not have asked for a better distraction,” Pikkar stated.
“Indeed,” General Nutrion agreed and thought about the ramifications of that ascension. “I have spoken to Drakar. He alluded to a coming of a crossroad. Our time is almost upon us.”
Wickedly Pikkar smiled as he eyed the old Guardian. Nutrion edged the periphery of his golden years, but his body held incredible muscle tone. Pikkar guessed his physique rivaled other Guardians much younger than himself. Familiarity wasn’t the prince’s strong suit.
On the other hand, Nutrion made it his personal job to know his prince. Besides being the Queens husband, Pikkar was First Council of the Igniter Guild. Controlling the entire illumination system of the subterranean city engaged most of his time. Strikingly impressive, with the blackest of eyes, but with white skin and hair, some would consider him an albino. He was not. His colorings were the markings of all true Igniters, except for his eyes. Other Igniters shared the ice blue eyes of their Guild.
Pikkar made sure his words found his General’s ears but were not overheard by others. He leaned in lowering his voice. “I have longed for this day, Nutrion. To play at complacency is... more difficult each day.”
“Victory shall be ours, my Prince,” Nutrion assured him. “We have waited patiently for our time to expand our borders and subjugate the people on the surface.”
“Indeed, and our catalyst seeds itself even deeper. At this time, she defies me, again and again. If there is one person I know better than myself, it is her. The unyielding tenacity of my own daughter, Ilmartutar.” General Nutrion would have said more, but the Prince walked away from him and continued to watch the Guardian gladiators.
The practice arena held approximately fifty Guardians, all intent on proving their prowess to their General. For any out-Guild observers, the hand-to-hand combat, which the Guardians participated, often proved dangerous.
Prince Pikkar focused on Lieutenant Thorium and his opponent. Thorium was a beast of a man. In his non-Morphed state, he stood head and shoulders above all others. With his Guardian Ability activated, he was a mountain. At the moment, he was more concerned about the Prince’s scrutiny, then his opponents ferocity.
With renewed intent, Thorium charged his adversary. “Grrrargh!” He growled in a low inhuman voice as he threw himself at the other Guardian. Both sailed across the practice floor, ripping a few floor tiles in the process. They crashed into the adjacent stone wall, again, shaking the infrastructure.
Thorium’s practice foe had no intentions of being beaten in front of the Prince, either. Forcefully, he reached out with both hands and pushed Thorium backward. The two ton Guardian flew into the air and landed with a loud rumble. Their action caused the floor tiles to crack and split, but before Thorium could recover, his opponent was upon him again.
The other Guardian slammed into Thorium’s body armor. Thorium staggered briefly, managed to hoist the other over his head, and then tossed his competitor backward. The thrown Guardian slammed into another duo of combatants. All crashed to the floor. The room shook violently from their massive weight.
Pikkar stepped backward as the ceiling cracked and crumbling stone fell to the practice floor. Glancing around the room, he searched for someone. “I thought I saw Yanni? You DO have her here, Nutrion, do you not?”
The General nodded and smiled. “There is always need of a Level 4 Telepath after a training session. And there is only one sympathetic to our cause. Yanni.”
As the practice session continued, the wear and tear of the facility took its toll. Yanni made herself useful and used her Telepathic Ability to reconstruct and reinforce the walls, ceiling, and floor. Easily, she raised her hands and manipulated the rubble as it replaced itself, nudging into the open cracks the broken pieces of stonework, and floor tiles. She knitted each piece with her Telepathic Ability, returning the Guardian training facility to a fair state of repair. Yanni lifted herself into the air with just the power of her mind. She sailed over to Prince Pikkar and General Nutrion.
Yanni bowed her head slightly in reverence to the prince, causing her raven black hair to fall into her eyes. “My Lord, Prince. The altercations between the Guardians seem intense this day. May I raise a force shield to protect you from any unwanted potential accidents to your person?”
Pikkar scowled. “You presume I can not remove myself from the path of a fighting Guardian?”
“No, my Prince,” Yanni answered quickly. “I only wished to offer my services for your peace of mind.”
“Hum...” Pikkar dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
It was a mistake. The ground under the Prince’s feet trembled, and his attention drew to its cause. Three Guardians stood at the end of the practice room. Each stomped their feet in unison, creating a physical vibration that Pikkar experienced at the opposite end of the cavern.
General Nutrion witnessed the Prince’s confusion and smiled. “I have been working in secrecy with those three.” He pointed to the Guardians who marched in place. “I hoped their skill would one day rival the Telepaths in earthquake creation.”
“Ha!” Yanni scoffed. “It shall be a cold day in the Abyss of Fire for that to happen!”
“Now, now, Yanni,” Pikkar began. “A bit of friendly competition is healthy.”
As they watched the Guardians move, the practice floor visibly shook, causing the rest of the fighting Guardian’s to stop and check their footing. The earthquake makers picked up their pace and mashed their armored feet into the floor. Slight vibrations shook and intensified. It wasn’t long before stress cracks reappeared on the ceiling and walls of the training facility.
Pikkar nudged Nutrion. “Perhaps we should halt their disciplines for the time being before I must summon the complete Telepath Guild for repairs.”
General Nutrion held his hand up to curtail the Guardians, but it was too late. The entire wall behind the threesome collapsed, and they watched in horror, as the corridor beyond it crumbled as well. Springing to action, Yanni levitated to the destruction and attempted to hold the falling corridor and adjoining caverns back, but the amount was too extreme for her to bear alone. The people of Akkadia fled in all directions, as the upper crust of the caverns caved in on the Commonwealth emporiums and shopkeepers.
“Goddess, Nutrion!” Pikkar growled. “Look at what your Guardians have done!”
“One thousand pardons, my Prince.” The General bowed, swiftly. “I had no idea things would get so carried away.”
Unable to hold the canopy back any longer, Yanni retreated from the falling boulders before their heaviness crushed her. When she approached Nutrion, wrath covered her face. “Why do you presume we Telepaths carry out this task, instead of Guardians? I will let you know! Simply because we can control our beam to a specific area!” She brought her lips close and whispered to the prince. “Now, Torg has been alerted to the incident.”
Pikkar barred his teeth. “Torg!” Oh, now I must endure that insufferable bore! He thought to himself.
Yanni caught his meaning, and he heard her laugh inside his head. He shot her a glance of disapproval that might have cut her in two, making her avert her eyes. Pikkar had heard Torg’s arrival inside his mind before he saw the Level 5 Telepath float toward the rubble in the corridor.
Rarely smiling, Torg’s mental acuity was sharp as a tack, perhaps among the greatest of the current Akkadians, excluding those which belonged to the Scholar Guild. Not a piece of his dark hair moved from place as his light green eyes gathered information from the scene.
When Prince Pikkar spied Torg, he attempted to massage the Chancellor’s ego. “Thank the Goddess for your swift arrival, my Lord Chancellor.”
“Indeed?” Torg raised an eyebrow at the prince’s praise. “The entire kingdom of Akkadia felt the seismic activity. Speaking as First Council for the Telepath Guild, I advise you to curtail the Guardians from this line of instruction. Leave the earthquake making to the professionals.”
“As you wish, my Lord Chancellor,” Bowing low, General Nutrion promised his cooperation.
The Prince and the General managed to keep their thoughts closed to him which caused Torg to doubt their sincerity. Not many could master the ability. Infinitely suspicious, Torg would have pressed the issue, but the whole Igniter Guild approached to help fortify the caverns over the Commonwealth.
The Chancellor shook his head at the Prince. “The Queen is beside herself with concern at this. She commands the Guardian Guild to cease training at once!”
Torg turned away from the prince, unable wait for a response. Extending his hands outward, he immediately lifted the rubble with the power of his mind, orchestrating their replacement.
As soon as Torg restored the granite stones to their proper place in the cavern canopy, the Igniter Guild went to work with their mending-mesh machine guns. The hardware showed its ancient craftsmanship – each cannon-shaped object, pitted, scarred, and tarnished with age. As the Igniters aimed and shot a web-like substance of sticky organic material into the ruptured terrain, they used their Ability to activate an accelerated growth of living rock.
The Guild member’s hands glowed white, activating their Abilities to transition their energy to the gun. Viscous elements erupted from the barrels, sealing the breaches and repairing the collapsed area. They repeated the process again and again until they healed their world.
Torg lowered himself. When his feet touched the ground, he approached the prince. “I am unsure of both your intentions in this... Be aware; I shall be watching.” The Chancellor turned, rose into the air and sailed down the corridor. Pikkar and Nutrion locked eyes, but no words passed between them.
The room was dark, and the moonlight created shadowy landscapes, as it broke through the slatted window shades. The rhythmic breathing of the other person in bed told her he slept. The woman threw back the covers, rose carefully, and redressed. She did so in relative quiet, hoping not to wake the man who lay next to her.
Continuing to the bathroom, she checked her face and hair. Brushing her fingers through the blonde locks to tame her unkempt ends, she checked her reflection in the mirror. As she ran the faucet and brought the water to her cheeks, it revitalized her. With a new confidence, she dried her hands on the towel hanging on the rack. She headed back to the bedroom, but when she entered, the man on the bed was awake.
“Lacara,” he said weakly, calling her to him. “Are you leaving already?”
Lacara smiled and sat on the bed next to him. “You know I shall return.” She got up to go, but he grabbed her hand. Consumed with guilt, she glanced down at it, feeling his pain. I have done this to him. Her thought referred to his bruises, open blisters, and sores, covering his face and body.
Jeff Donaldson didn’t look his twenty-five years. His sallow skin and dark circles under his eyes bemoaned his suffering. Hunger grabbed at his intestines, and he found it hard to gather the energy to get up and go to work. His condition deteriorated right before Lacara’s eyes.
“Hush, my love,” she said. Using her Empathic Ability, she soothed away his pain with her voice. “Lie back and return to sleep.”
He did as she told him. He ran his fingers through his hair, and the corrosive blisters at his forehead throbbed with pain. When he pulled his hand away, some of his hair came with it, wrapped in his fingers. “Okay, I’m not feeling great right now, anyway.”
“I shall see you again tomorrow night. I promise.” Lacara smiled again, but tears ran down her cheeks.
She turned, walked to his door, but paused for a moment. She faced him one last time to blow him a kiss, and then walked out of his room and closed the door behind her. When her mind refocused, she found herself out on the street in the warm summer night air. She walked for two miles while she marveled at the stars in the sky.
So beautiful, yet so alien, she thought, as she reached a sandy path.
She bent down, took off her shoes, and trekked through the parkland barefoot. Lacara hurried because she was late. As she approached the open field, she ran toward the bright light – her eyes gauged everyone inside waiting for her. She joined the other women in the Reaction Lift, as the doors closed behind her.
“You are late again, Lacara,” Ilmartutar said, full of disappointment.
“I know. Forgive my delay,” Lacara apologized.
“Mother will not be pleased,” Ilmar warned, shaking her head as the giant elevator descended on its way miles below the surface.
Above, in the abandoned human baseball field, nothing remained of the strange visitors, except the blowing sand erasing any trace of their footprints. As the only witnesses of their passing presence, the scrub oak, the sand, and the breeze tried to warn – whispering, whispering, whispering to no one.
