Xen'tarza
Chapter Seven

Theoretical Neurosis

I

Tall Tales

Eladoris destroyed the elemental particles in space that were threatening Marauder. As she created a safe passage, Vokken flew the ship out of harm’s way. In the meantime, Shirakaya conversed with the scientist, explaining everything she and her crew had been through since her initial confrontation with Ashkaratoth and his minions; the AI simultaneously interpreted the intense tale using the ugandian dialect, allowing Jai’ryndar to also be kept up to speed.

“That can’t be possible,” Del Vayso said, his wrinkled face blank as he sat in a chair.

“Even one of the Ruzurai believes me,” she said. “The threat is real. We’re the only ones working on a plan to stop them. But to stand a chance, I need my power. You found this book,” she added, revealing Medeix Et Victum to him. “Surely you can finish translating it. In fact, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you made a copy before the Tal’manac Order confiscated it. You must know a way for me to regain my magic.”

“How did you get a hold of this?” he asked, taking the book.

“My former mentor,” she said. “Owendar entrusted it to me.”

“You know Owendar? He is the Ruzurai who believes your story?”

“I...knew him,” she said, trying to keep herself together. “He was like a second father to me. He’s...he passed on to the Drift Void.”

Eyes downcast, the scientist grumbled. “I see. That is most unfortunate.”

“I’m sure it was Owendar’s intention for us to replace you. Please join us and help make his untimely death mean something.”

“Untimely?” the renegade muttered to Xorvaj. “The guy looked dead a hundred cycles ago.” While he made the ghensoth cackle, Myris shoved an elbow into his stomach. “Ow! What the fuck, kid? My ribs still hurt.”

Dojin walked off, returning to his quarters. The oracle merely shrugged and then picked Xeza up, petting her.

“Will you help us?” the freelancer asked Del Vayso.

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to produce a copy of this book. I never finished discerning all its secrets.” The scientist remained silent for some time, pensive. Eventually, he continued, “Nonetheless, there is vital information that I uncovered. Tell me, spiritual kin of Owendar, are you familiar with the mythos of Xen’tarza and the Spectral Pulse?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. While it seems farfetched to me that there would be a deity other than Maz’hura, we’ve been searching for a rift into the Spectral Pulse.”

“We were hoping you could shed more light on the legend,” Khal’jan intervened, anxious.

Del Vayso frowned. “I am speaking with Owendar’s spiritual kin...not you.” Turning his attention back to her, he went on, “Open your mind to the limitless possibilities of our divine universe. The god of time may be your only hope.”

Shirakaya softened her glare, revealing an expression of intrigue. “What were you doing on Ruegan’Uganta?”

“Seeking the very same portal you’re searching for.”

“Was it there? Did you replace it?”

The scientist shook his head. “My research led me here. But, as you witnessed, what we experienced was a doorway into an artificial dimension. In the end, the virtual world combined with augmented reality proved to not only be false hope but detrimental to existence. However, thanks to you and your brave crew, the artificial dimension has been sealed for good.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to track another rift?”

“Without a doubt. But first, we need an enchanted artifact of sorts that has the ability to detect arcane portals beyond our dimension. Mine was unfortunately destroyed by that planet’s radiation.”

“What about that Eye thingamajig your brother and I almost died getting?” Rah’tera asked.

Shirakaya raised an eyebrow, porting the mystical relic via kinetic link.

Del Vayso gasped at the cube. “By the twelve dimensions! You found the fabled Eye of Soth’yugon!”

“Hah! I knew it would come in handy,” the archeologist said.

“I take it this artifact will get the job done?” Shirakaya asked.

The scientist gave a subtle nod, approaching it with reverence. “Though it may take a few days, with this relic—and a little help from one of your esteemed researchers—I may be able to pinpoint an arcane gateway from our dimension to the divine.”

“I’m your man,” Khal’jan said.

The scientist looked at him, skeptical.

“Khal is my brother and an outstanding archeologist,” Shirakaya stated, patting him on the arm. “If it weren’t for him, we probably would’ve never found you. He’ll help with your research in the conference room.” Turning to the others, she went on, “In the meantime, the rest of you can stay here while I contact Xethren to replace out what crazy mission he has in store for us this time.”

II

Beyond Science

Settling down, the mercenaries returned to their stationed seats on Marauder’s bridge. The oracle guided Jai’ryndar to sit next to her. Xeza sniffed him from her lap and gave out a happy urp. Sitting in her armchair, Shirakaya activated the vessel’s relay system and sent a transmission to Xethren. After a minute, he appeared on the screen.

“Well, hello there. I see you survived whatever trouble you got yourself into. Bravo! Bravo! Ready to be professional now?”

“Professional? Just because I couldn’t…never mind. What do you have for us?”

“Learning manners? Good. Humility and respect were what you lacked prior to being a freelancer. Nice to see that your departure from the military taught you something. Anyway, down to business: There’s a teenage boy suffering from—wait! What in the flipping universe is that?”

Shirakaya saw him point in the direction of her newest ally. “Who? Jai’ryndar? Oh, he’s the last surviving uganda from Ruegan’Uganta in the Syichi-Photh Kos Galaxy. He’s sort of a mute but an extraordinary engineer specializing in experimental metaphysics such as augmented reality and artificial dimensions.”

The contact looked dumbfounded. “You do impress me, Shira. That I’ll admit.” He sighed, turning his attention away from the bizarre alien. “I digress. There’s a teenage boy suffering from something mysterious. We sent another freelancer to investigate but she hasn’t resolved anything yet and the benetarians are getting upset, so I figured you would be able to shed some light on the mystery. No one has proof. Most people think he’s crazy. Many believe he has an irreversible illness. A few say he’s faking it for attention. One person has a very different belief.”

“Do tell,” Rah’tera said.

“His mother can tell you what she thinks. But perhaps a hint is in order. They are located in a colony on planet Omav in Zesga’De Xanam. Now, you know how benetarians are. Magi-phobia. Considering their Imperial Majesty governs that galaxy, no one’s going to side with the boy’s mother.”

Shirakaya lowered her head, groaning. “No freebies, Xethren. These days we need serious reons.”

“Eighty thousand isn’t enough?” The number got her attention as he continued, “Don’t assume because the mother is living in a colony that she’s poor. Margia Ve’Sar is His Imperial Majesty’s third cousin and Countess of Omav.”

The young oracle stiffened, feeling her past catching up to her again.

“Does the countess think her son is being affected by some kind of malevolent force?” the freelancer asked.

“I don’t have that answer. You’ll just have to go there and replace out,” he said, glancing at the time on his KLD. “I’m a busy man, Shira. Meeting with the Guild Master in a minute. The coordinates have already been sent to your KLD. Don’t bother contacting me until you resolve this case.”

Xethren ended the transmission.

After a moment, Shirakaya focused on the windowpane that revealed space. “You heard the man, Vokken. Zesga’De Xanam. Full speed ahead.”

“Entering dimensional space.”

Away from the elemental debris, Vokken opened an aperture within the cosmos and sent Marauder through the chasm at maximum speed. The crew remained seated, their chairs rumbling. A thousand suns greeted them. Becoming one with the void, they passed myriad planets, moons, and asteroids.

Marauder traversed past countless stars—from one galaxy to another. To the freelancer, seeing her battleship accelerate across the space map at such velocity seemed unnatural even to her. At a time like this, she conceded, the universe was a small realm; yet she knew all too well that the cosmos and its twelve dimensions were seemingly infinite.

“What do you think?” Yarasuro asked.

Shirakaya broke away from her daydreaming. “Of the boy?” At his slight nod, she went on, “We’ll be surrounded by disbelievers dying for a reason to put us in jail or kill us even if our mere expressions disagree with their scientific dogma. We’ll need to tread lightly.”

“Agreed.”

The vessel exited dimensional space. Before them hung a cracked, reddened celestial body whose appearance seemed ready to burst into devouring flames. Vokken made haste to maneuver Marauder away from it and flew toward the esorian quadrant within the Zesga’De Xanam galaxy.

After progressing to safety, the battleship changed course. Flying noquria for several minutes, the mercenaries entered a star system that was marked on the freelancer’s map as Benetar Lojaria. They soon came upon a purplish planet with a semitransparent force field enveloping it. Multiple fleets of ivory starships surrounded the world. Only one strayed from its mandated position, approaching Marauder.

“We have arrived,” Vokken said.

“Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t going to be a warm welcome?” Shirakaya said with a sigh.

“Because they’re mental,” Myris said, her comment making Rah’tera laugh. “Listen, you know what happened to me during the festival. I can’t let Command-Minister Iska or any of his douchebag soldiers replace me again. So, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna wear a mask.”

Shirakaya nodded, activating her kinetic link device. “Khal, my mercenaries and I will be dealing with another guild mission. Can you come get Jai’ryndar and also check on Xeza every now and then?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Thanks. I’m sure Jai’ryndar will be an asset to your research,” she concluded, ending the link.

“I’d better get Dojin,” Xorvaj said, standing up. “He’s not gonna wanna miss this.”

“You go do that,” the freelancer responded, her eyes focused on the approaching craft that gleamed like a white pearl.

III

Obscurity

Dojin returned to his cabin and sat down at a desk beside his bed. Using a computer linked to the transdimensional ethernet, he searched the military database and loaded up Zadoya’s biography, which revealed an unscarred image of her from when she served as a lieutenant. He gazed at it longingly before touching it with his fingers.

Drifting in thought, his haggard expression turned into a frown. Once again, he thought of her terrible fate. Before he could smash his computer, it abruptly blanked out. At the same time, the lights in his quarters fizzed as if an outage were about to occur. He then saw a message appear on the black screen: Dojin! Seeing his name appear made his heart skip a beat. Another message appeared: Help me! Help me, Dojin!

The renegade pushed his seat back. “Vokken, stop fucking around with me. I’m not in the mood.”

Vokken did not respond. Instead, the lights fizzed again with one final message: There is no time! Find me on—His computer screen returned to normal, as did the lights in his room. Dojin wasn’t one to fret, but receiving another unknown distress message caught him off guard. I’m losing my mind, he conceded. Before thinking further about the bizarre occurrence, he saw his door open as Xorvaj emerged.

“We have a new mission in Benetar Lojaria and just arrived. You coming?”

Turning around with a slight look of dismay, Dojin replied, “I’m not crazy about those tightwad militants, but I could use a breath of fresh air.”

“You all right?”

“Huh?” he blurted, trying to think of a way to hide his troubled thoughts. “What’s this? A ghensoth caring about a humyn?”

Xorvaj gave his comrade a look of death. Grabbing him, he forcefully turned and pushed Dojin out of his own room. Dojin let out a snorting laugh and made his way to an X-Phaser. The pair ported over to the bridge, rejoining the crew. Looking out of the primary pane, the renegade saw Omav, along with an armada of military spacecrafts.

Marauder entered the planet’s orbit, led by an ivory flagship whose curved wings were adorned with an array of cannons. Greeted by a bright horizon, some of the mercenaries gazed through the windowpane with intrigued expressions. The layer of gases that made up Omav’s atmosphere somehow made the sun appear purplish.

In addition to such an enigmatic sight, the crew was introduced to a rocky shore. Mauve-colored water washed over a cascade of pebbles and larger stones. Landing atop a cluster of huge boulders, Shirakaya and her entourage exited their vessel. Wearing a mask adorned with gems, Myris descended the ramp and hovered to a lower plateau. She kept to herself, listening to the rise and fall of crashing waves.

Eladoris leapt down in front of the oracle. “If the others are looking for me, tell them I have better things to do than babysit.”

“Laters.”

The necromancer waited for the military flagship to disappear into the clouds and then flew skyward across the ocean. Slightly jealous, Myris watched Eladoris with fondness until she vanished from her sight. Not seeing any benetarians around, the oracle removed her mask and took in the fresh air.

“Any reason why we landed in the middle of nowhere?” Dojin asked.

“Cos foreigners like you sexy lot aren’t allowed to land in Benetarian ports,” Myris said from below.

“Well, that sucks ass.”

Shirakaya tried to ignore the renegade’s remark, choosing to focus on the various seashells that lay along the shore and rocks. Each of them was shaped differently. Most intriguing, she thought, were the humming sounds that emanated from each shell. Scanning them, her KLD identified them as a species called igsus, also known as echoic igsus for their ability to capture and mimic lamenting voices from tormented beings.

“Not that I care about the kid,” Xorvaj started, “but why are we still here? Do you want him to die?”

No longer paying mind to the seashells, Shirakaya gave him a long look.

“The admiral may have given us permission to land, but he informed us that we need to wait here for someone to escort us,” Yarasuro said.

The ghensoth scowled. “When did this happen?”

“When you went looking for Prince Charming,” Myris responded, putting her masquerade mask back on.

“Escort us where?” he snapped.

“The child’s village,” Rah’tera answered.

Xorvaj sighed with impatience, leaning on the ship’s hull. The freelancer and her other companions remained by the mossy rocks. They had no choice but to try appreciating the ocean view. In time, a group of benetarians approached the Shadow Mercs. Once they reached them, a soldier in a military suit crisscrossed his arms.

“Welcome to Omav, jewel of Benetar Lojaria. I am Jandu, First Soldier of His Imperial Majesty.”

“Thank you, First Soldier. I am Shirakaya of Aarda, and these are my mercenaries. I must say, this is truly a beautiful world. We are all honored to be here and look forward to meeting the countess.”

“Such introductions will be my pleasure. Follow me.”

IV

Bittersweet Acquaintances

The soldier and his two knights escorted the mercenaries past the rocky shore, bringing them to a vibrant jungle filled with multicolored ferns. The moist and shady woodland revealed a swirling creek flowing toward the immense rocks that jutted down to the sea, which now surged far behind the mercenaries.

Stepping deeper into the dense woods, Shirakaya heard a chorus of sing-song chirps. She managed to spot a yolku, one of many creatures singing within the forest. Its twin tails wagged and fluffed upward as it jumped off a branch above. Expanding its quad wings, it flew over to a higher bough on another tree.

Ahead of the group lay an uneven footpath that led them to a manmade bridge. Crossing the overpass, Shirakaya saw a stellar ouva drifting toward a waterfall. She stopped for a moment to gaze at the interstellar being. The gelatinous animal floated through splashing waters, rising skyward.

“I’m rather mesmerized by this world,” Yarasuro said, strolling beside his leader.

“You and me both,” she said, smiling.

Continuing through the woods, Shirakaya and her companions could tell that the trees in the region were noticeably less. They eventually reached a meadow where a village was located. Many of the buildings resembled cottages. Only one appeared more modernized, which was a bunker whose scouts blew a horn as the mercenaries approached.

Most prominent in the village, however, was a structure standing behind the bunker and humble cottages: a skyscraper castle built atop a cliff at the northern end of the village. The castle’s ebony-hued stonework glimmered with the purple horizon, complementing the sky. And its arched turrets seized the heavens, merging with the clouds.

“Incredible,” Yarasuro said.

“It truly is,” the freelancer replied warmly. “This place is like a breath of fresh air for the mind. If that even makes sense.”

“It does,” Myris said with appreciation.

Upon reaching the village square, the soldier and his knights turned north. The Shadow Mercs followed them, passing homes on either side. Workers like the local blacksmith couldn’t help but fix their eyes on the foreigners with curiosity. In fact, most villagers stopped to look, especially the children.

“Mommy! Mommy! Look! Aliens!” a boy said, pointing at the ghensoth and sandstalker.

“Shhh!” the mother uttered, pulling him into her cabin and closing the door before he could attract any more attention.

At an alley between homes, a couple kissing each other glimpsed the sandstalker and broke away from each other, gazing at his face with horror. They whispered to one another, eyes fixed on his breathing apparatus, as well as his many dreads that curled down to his spine like tubes.

Noticing their gaze, Rah’tera smirked at them. “So, how come the folks here are not using technology?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, it’s cos they can’t afford such luxuries,” Myris said, her voice disguised by the mask she wore. “This is actually how a lot of colonies are…at least in Benetar Lojaria. But don’t feel so bad. The villagers are used to it.”

“I’m not sure what’s more lame,” Dojin began, “what you just told us or that stupid ass mask you’re wearing.”

“Don’t get me started, ya ninny.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Princess.”

Myris was livid but kept quiet, pursuing Jandu. The Shadow Mercs soon passed the village and made their way up a hill, toward the ebony castle. The rock-strewn path remained safe for the most part, allowing them to stride onward with ease. Only a few areas of the winding path had sinkholes, forcing everyone to occasionally watch their steps.

Upon reaching the castle’s entrance, the group stopped and waited for the drawbridge to be lowered. The oracle felt a knot in her stomach as the gate ahead opened. I can’t believe I’m back. After everything I’ve been through, I have returned. But this isn’t for me. It’s for my new family. Yes...even that prick Dojin is family, Myris reflected as she stepped forward with her companions, entering the royal fortress.

“Fond memories?” Yarasuro asked the oracle.

Shirakaya couldn’t help but produce a soft chuckle. “I’m surprised, Yaro. You’re not one to be sarcastic.”

“He’s catching the Dojin disease,” Myris said.

They laughed, including the renegade himself.

Inside, the mercenaries found themselves in an atrium with chandeliers lighting the ebony stronghold. Twin fountains stood opposite each other, water trickling down plants whose arched leaves and sprawling, exposed roots appeared as healthy as could be. Stairs rose from either side of the foyer, and in the center lay an arcane platform akin to an old-fashioned elevator.

“This way,” Jandu said.

He and his knights led their guests to the enchanted platform. It automatically reacted to their footsteps, glowing with a subtle aura. Moments later, it elevated above countless floors. Dojin leaned forward, looking pale. Closing his eyes was the only thing that saved him from vomiting all over the floor.

“Oh, that’s right,” Shirakaya said, patting him on the back. “I forgot all about your motion sickness.”

Xorvaj snorted with amusement.

“Oracle?” the freelancer called out, smirking.

Without a word, Myris serenely waved her hand at the renegade and conjured a soft spell that dispersed his nausea.

“Thanks, kid.”

“Strange how you can handle the velocity of a starship but not a simple elevator,” Jandu said with curiosity.

“My, what a keen observation,” Shirakaya replied, ready to chuckle.

“Force fields and inertia dampers reduce the bullshit feeling of motion on a ship,” Dojin said through gritted teeth.

The elevator slowed down and came to a complete stop. Stepping off the platform, they walked through an unusually long hallway with bedchambers on either side. Around the middle of the corridor, Jandu entered a doorway that led everyone slightly upward through an arched turret. Shirakaya stopped midway, as did her crew. Approaching them from the opposite end was Lady Niksa who also froze in disbelief.

“Frauds!” she blurted. “They’re all frauds! Seize them!”

Jandu appeared disoriented by the other freelancer’s reaction but nevertheless obeyed; he and his knights turned to face the Shadow Mercs, unsheathing their weapons. The mercenaries copied their actions. Guns and swords pointed in opposite directions. Even though Shirakaya’s group was better equipped, Lady Niksa and her entourage of soldiers evened the odds.

“Stand down,” Myris said with firmness, removing her mask.

A few of the benetarians stumbled while others gasped, lowering their weapons without hesitation. Jandu and his knights kneeled before her, their arms crisscrossed. Lady Niksa looked confused as the guards listened to the young oracle.

“Who is this brat?” she inquired.

“Princess Eianvok?” Jandu said in disbelief. “Impossible. The emperor said you died in Lojaria after that nightmare earthquake.”

“Lies,” she declared. “My parents were assassinated by the Lojarians because I refused the arranged marriage.” Most of the benetarians looked horrified as she went on, “I was shot in the back while trying to escape. I managed to survive. Paralyzed, but alive.”

“Your Grace, you must announce this betrayal to the public immediately,” Jandu said.

“Absolutely not,” Myris affirmed. “I didn’t come here to restore monarchy as we knew it or claim the imperial throne. I am not the benevolent princess you may have once loved. I have a new life as an oracle. And this is my adopted family.”

“Then these must be the noblest of people,” Jandu responded.

“Surely this is a joke,” Lady Niksa said. “Your Highness, is it? You voluntarily follow this shady whore?”

“Watch your filthy words!” Shirakaya snapped.

Dojin charged his shotgun. “Can we waste the cunt?”

“Sounds good to me,” Xorvaj said, raising his battleaxe.

“Stop!” Jandu demanded. “Lady Niksa is another respectable freelancer aiding us to cure the prince. You must replace a way to work together.”

“Over my dead body,” Shirakaya said.

The benetarians raised their weapons again.

Myris slammed her fists on the arms of her wheelchair. “Jandu, I thought you were one of the few who truly loved my parents before the fall of kingship. If you have any respect for me as the former princess, then stand down and let us continue our mission.”

The soldiers and knights glanced at each other and obeyed her, forcing Lady Niksa to also surrender.

“Smart move,” Dojin said.

“Can you shut it?” the oracle scoffed, rolling her eyes. She turned her attention back to the benetarians. “Thank you.”

Shirakaya sheathed her sword, calming down. “Lady Niksa, I had no idea you were also a freelancer for guilds. Perhaps, as Jandu desires, we can temporarily put our differences aside and work together so that the benetarians can get their money’s worth.”

“Work together?” Niksa said, an insulted expression carved on her face. “Be grateful I’m not putting a bullet in your head,” she added, stepping aside. “You may go about your business here, but I’d still watch my back if I were you.”

“I think Lady Niksa still fancies you,” Vokken said to Shirakaya via KLD.

The freelancer cleared her throat and gestured for him to keep quiet.

“Thank you, Lady Niksa,” the oracle said. “And let it be known here that no one is to reveal my identity.”

Not a single benetarian in the corridor rejected her demand.

Lady Niksa momentarily grabbed Shirakaya by the arm. “This isn’t over yet. I’ll have my revenge.”

“We’ll see about that,” Shirakaya retorted, pulling her arm back.

As they were free to go, the mercenaries continued following Jandu through the other half of the interior turret. Myris put her mask back on and hovered higher to look out of a window, where she could see multicolored clouds alongside the battlement. At the end of the turret stood a sealed door. When they arrived, a servant attired in a robe opened it.

Fluffy curtains decorated the stained-glass windows while dimly lit sconces brought life to the fairly dark chamber. Beside the bed sat a red-haired woman in garbs of velour. Yet what Shirakaya and her comrades fixed their eyes on was the scrawny, unconscious boy covered in blankets.

“Good evening, Countess,” Jandu said, saluting her. “I bring you Shirakaya of Aarda and her noble mercenaries.”

The soldier couldn’t help but stare at Myris, wanting to announce her presence.

“Leave us,” the woman said in a forlorn tone, holding her son’s gaunt hand. She waited for them to leave, including the servant who closed the door on his way out. “I thank you for coming. I am Margia Ve’Sar, Countess of Omav.”

“It is an honor,” Shirakaya said, bowing.

“Is it?” she said bitterly. “Let us not create false pretenses, Shirakaya of Aarda. You and I both know how my people feel about the blasphemy of magic.”

“And yet here we stand. It’s evident you realize magic is a necessity to saving him.”

Countess Ve’Sar snorted. “My son has been ill for a fortnight. He grows weaker by the day. He’s certainly worse than yesterday and has fallen into some sort of coma. I fear that his life is dwindling by the second. I need you to do whatever it takes to cure him.”

“We’ll begin immediately,” the freelancer said. “Oracle...”

Myris nodded, hovering toward the bed opposite the countess. She waved her hand over the pale boy’s chest. A slight aura radiated around him. The boy remained in a comatose state, unresponsive. With an intrigued expression, Myris drew three symbols in the air above the boy: one by his forehead, another near his torso, and the last by his feet.

The runes glowed bright, but they dissipated as quickly as they had appeared. An eerie breeze swept past the mercenaries despite the windows and curtains remaining shut. The boy rose half-way up in the bed, his blood-red eyes open and fixed on the oracle. He snarled and waved his hand in the air, hurling the oracle against a wall.

“Don’t fuck with me, bitch!”

Horrified by the insidious voice, the countess shrieked and backed away. Even the other mercenaries were taken aback, Shirakaya included. Myris, unshaken, waved her hand in the air with defiance, forcing the boy to lie back down. The boy struggled, screaming at the top of his lungs; it was the high-pieced roar of a monstrosity. The bloodcurdling nature of the sound caused Jandu to reenter with his knights.

“What in the world is going on?” he demanded.

“In the name of the divine Goddess,” the oracle started, “begone from this innocent boy and return to the dark trenches of the void, demon!”

“De-demon?” the countess said, stuttering.

“Mercs!” Shirakaya shouted in an uneasy tone, unsheathing her enchanted blade. “Be on your guard!”

“No!” the countess cried out.

The benetarians ignored the superstitious ramblings of the oracle and raised their guns and swords, aiming them at the mercenaries; at least until they heard another inhumyn roar from the boy. Scratch marks burned into the boy’s skin as his body twisted. He roared again, the bed rising and slamming down on its own.

“We’re not equipped for this paranormal shit,” Dojin said.

“I can handle this!” Myris said, noticing Yarasuro take a step forward with his enchanted swords.

She conjured additional runes above the boy. Curtains swayed. Lights flickered as many of the flames were randomly doused. The room darkened. Another roar shook the chamber. The wardrobe toppled. Tiles cracked. Then a divan at the foot of the bed abruptly flew up, smashing through a stained-glass window.

“Vokken!” Shirakaya called out, wincing as pieces of shattered glass dispersed. “Where the hell is Eladoris?”

“I’m afraid she’s not interested in helping at the moment.”

“Fuck the necromancer! We need a damn exorcist for this!” Dojin said.

The benetarians stood frozen, their mouths agape while Myris muttered a telekinetic spell that kept the possessed boy grounded. There was a great deal of resistance. The mask she wore concealed her pale face but could do little to hide the sweat dripping down her forehead. Etching more runes in the air, she approached the drained boy who groaned loudly in response.

Furniture lifted and slammed back onto the ground, splintering on impact. The floor trembled. With the exception of the oracle, everyone briefly lost their footing. They heard a deafening shriek, the noise clawing at the very edges of their sanity. Shirakaya was about to signal her men to attack when the shaking and screaming abruptly stopped.

“What just happened?” she asked.

“It seems to be retracting,” Myris said. “I still sense its presence, but it’s not strong. Wait. I think it’s gone…for now. It’s as if someone or something brought that entity to possess the boy on purpose. I’m just not sure. Wait!” She closed her eyes. “I feel water. It’s dark and dank inside. We’re in a pitch-black passage. They lurk therein, where the flame burns.”

“Have you gone mad, kid?” Dojin blurted.

Shirakaya sheathed her sword and crossed her arms. “Are you insinuating that whatever demonic presence this is may have been summoned from the place in your vision?”

“I don’t know,” Myris said, sounding queasy. “Maybe.”

The freelancer furrowed her brow. “Countess, where was the last place your son was before he succumbed to this swoon?”

“The same location where you landed: Hy’alu Beach. Why?”

“Maybe something happened there. We’ll need to thoroughly investigate the area. Oracle, stay with the boy in case something else stirs. Rah’tera, search the village for potential cultists.” At his nod, she went on, “I’ll return to the shore. The rest of you can reconnoiter beyond the village walls.”

V

Echoes of Pain

Returning to the colony’s outskirts, the mercenaries searched the wild, forested environs for possible clues. Even though Shirakaya’s intention was to make her way back to the shore, she temporarily stayed with Dojin, Xorvaj, and Yarasuro who scouted around the jungle. Weapons raised, the quartet strode east with caution as they passed a flock of jintars—two-legged steeds with a single eye that stretches across their skimpy foreheads. Hooves stomping without grace, the animals encircled Shirakaya and her companions.

“Any chance we can tame these one-eyed freaks?” Dojin asked.

Yarasuro shook his head. “Best we keep our distance from such beasts. Goddess knows how deadly they may be.”

“I agree,” Shirakaya said. “Leave them be.”

“Hmph,” the ghensoth uttered, cleaving one that drew too close to him.

When the jintar fell, its pack stopped circling them and instead attempted to trample on the mercenaries who dodged their movements. Xorvaj cut through another beast, slicing it in half. Using his plasma shotgun, Dojin blasted two of them. The freelancer sulked, annoyed at feeling forced into shooting one of them. As another turned to flee, Yarasuro rolled toward it and sliced its stomach open when it tried jumping out of harm’s way.

Only four remained. They stopped galloping, slowing down in a panic. Snatching the chance, Dojin ported a laser-powered chain via KLD and grabbed one by its fur, swooping on to its back. As he wrapped the chain around its throat, it let out a bawl. The more it resisted, the more he tightened his grip. Fear took over and the beast relented, allowing him to remain on its back. Shirakaya and Yarasuro saw it submit and copied Dojin’s actions. Xorvaj grumbled, approaching one of them. It took a step back, afraid of him. When he growled, however, the jintar lowered itself for him to mount.

“That’s more like it,” he said.

“I must admit,” Yarasuro began while gripping his jintar, “I’m impressed with how you improvise, Dojin.”

The renegade gave him a sly grin. “Where to?”

“That would be up to Shira.”

Shirakaya gave her bodyguard a look of respect. “I want the three of you to meet up with Rah’tera and investigate the vicinity of the village. There’s little we know and a lot at stake. We need to get serious and ask questions.”

“Can’t we just kill them all?” the ghensoth asked.

Shirakaya laughed, convincing herself that his words were nothing more than a demented joke. Jintars at their command, they galloped their separate ways: the mercenary brutes rode to the village while Shirakaya went on to Hy’alu Beach. With the jintar galloping at such a fast pace, the freelancer reached the water in no time. Riding onward, she passed Marauder and cantered along the coastline where the waves crashed against the shore.

After traveling for a while, she saw an open passage with fewer rocks. Shirakaya followed the footpath, which led her to a beach. At this point, the starship was far behind her. It barely remained visible, blanketed by a thick mist. She looked back only once and continued farther down the beach that was littered with an array of colorful seashells.

Spotting a wide mound ahead, Shirakaya approached. She soon noticed the beach’s end, a wilderness of scattered trees taking its place and stretching off into the distance. Just before reaching the mound, Shirakaya heard a familiar voice shout out her name. She turned and fixed her eyes on Lady Niksa who was seated on her hover-bike.

“Don’t think for a second that you’re a better freelancer than me,” she said, wielding a laser rifle. “I will have my revenge.”

Shirakaya dismounted her jintar, knowing it couldn’t outrun the vehicle. “So, you’re a stalker?”

“How did you do it?” Niksa said, scowling. “Hypnotism? Magic? Yes, of course it was magic. There’s no logical explanation as to why the benetarian princess would follow the likes of you.”

“No one is obligated to follow me. We believe in each other and work as a team. Only by working together will we defeat the koth’vurians.”

“Liar!” Niksa shouted, maintaining a steady aim as she approached her target. “You somehow put a hex on the princess. As for these people, they would never willingly hire scum like you!”

“You can’t be that ignorant and naive. Myris’ own people abandoned her. My crew and I accepted her with open arms.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Niksa cried out.

Maintaining her guard, she reached her target. At close range, she dropped her gun and reached out for Shirakaya. No longer being held at gunpoint, Shirakaya felt strangely relieved, even more so as she felt the other freelancer’s soft lips against hers. They embraced one another, dropped to the sand, and rapidly removed each other’s clothes.

“You can’t leave me,” Niksa whispered, using her tongue to please her lover below the waist. “I own you.”

“Nobody owns me,” Shirakaya managed to utter, her body tingling.

“You’re mine. And I am yours. We need each other.”

Shirakaya moaned, letting her would-be competitor pleasure her. Legs spread, she lay on the ground and surrendered her body to Lady Niksa who behaved as though she was possessed by a spirit of lust—if such an entity actually existed. Shirakaya closed her eyes, expecting a lot more pleasure when, instead, she unwillingly heard a faint voice of what seemed to be the prince weeping.

“Stop,” Shirakaya uttered, replaceing it difficult to push away. “Please stop. I hear something…”

“What?”

Turning around, Shirakaya gazed at an ark-shaped seashell. Though she hesitated at first, she grabbed the shell and pressed it against her ear, surprised to hear the countess’s son crying from within. The same sobbing repeated, at which point Shirakaya switched shells. However, she heard nothing in the others around her.

“Listen to this.”

Niksa reluctantly complied, picking up the first seashell her lover had examined. “I’ll be damned, an echoic igsus. Not many left.”

“I thought all of them were igsuses.”

“No,” Niksa said flatly. “An igsus takes refuge in a shell like this. But most of them eventually get eaten by frincraws—nasty little critters that live in the sand and come out when the tide rises. Looks like you got lucky. Really lucky.”

“Something’s not right. It sounded as though the boy was here recently and yet he’s in the bedchamber with the countess as we speak. Where else is there to search?”

“Hmmm…Brye Ves’Kor Island?”

“This is really bothering me,” Shirakaya said, activating her KLD. “Vokken, release the ZX-9000 and notify everyone except Myris to rendezvous by the tank.” “Affirmative.”

“Wait a minute,” Niksa said, frowning. “You’re leaving? Again? We may be freelancers, but there’s more to life than completing a mission. Don’t I mean anything to you?”

Shirakaya sighed. “You know what’s at stake. The countess’s son is in danger. You’re more than welcome to join me. After all, the Guild Master assigned you to the same mission. With or without you, I need to investigate.”

“I am my own leader. I’ll do as I please. Go check your precious lead. I have my own to follow-up on, and it’s far more solid than the stupid sounds of an echoic igsus.”

Shirakaya shook her head. She swooped back on her jintar and galloped off.

VI

Necropolis

The mercenaries met up with their leader in front of Marauder, where the ZX-9000 was parked. They entered the heavy tank, Xorvaj activating it. In the meantime, Shirakaya explained to them how she had found an echoic igsus by accident. However, she decided to skip the details of being intimate with Lady Niksa.

“So, you decided to go on a midnight stroll along the beach by yourself and happened to stumble upon an echoic…whatever the fuck it’s called?”

Unable to contain his amused expression, Yarasuro hid his face from the group.

The freelancer, on the contrary, glared at the renegade. “Why do you have to be such an asshole all the time?”

Dojin smirked. “But that’s why you can’t resist me.”

“I heard the boy crying. An echoic igsus won’t mimic lamenting sounds for more than a couple of hours. He must be here somewhere. I say we investigate that island to the north. It’s the only other nearby place we’ve yet to search.”

Transforming the tank into a hovercraft, Xorvaj drove it across the ocean and made his way north toward the isle of Brye Ves’Kor. Trees sprang from the ocean, their crystallized branches littered with fungi. Water cascaded from several trees whose bark contained natural holes. Xorvaj avoided them with ease until reaching a dense water forest.

With caution, he glided past the cluster of water trees. The mercenaries eventually came across purple- and black-striped, gelatinous lifeforms that were wrapped around the boughs of the water forest. One in particular clung to an arched branch, its long neck drooping down in an attempt to sniff the tank. Xorvaj unexpectedly submerged the tank for a brief moment instead of shooting it.

“Are you getting soft on me, Xorvaj?” Shirakaya asked.

The ghensoth snorted. “Don’t hold your breath. Sensors show chemicals in their bodies that could cause explosions if shot with the wrong firepower.”

“Good catch,” Yarasuro said.

“Yeah,” the renegade agreed. “I would’ve definitely blown us up.”

Passing the oceanic forest, Shadow Mercs reached the island’s coast. Xorvaj decelerated, driving the hover tank onto the myrtle-colored sand. Just before leaving the shoreline behind, he landed. Without delay, the mercenaries exited the ZX-9000 and made their way through a jungle where an outcrop of rocks stood on either side.

“Be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary,” Shirakaya said.

The mercenaries nodded. As they progressed, a chorus of insects filled their ears. An array of colorful plants surrounded them, interspersed with multiple trees and vines. At times, Yarasuro sliced through toxic-looking flora that blocked their path. Although the jungle was dense, Shirakaya and her comrades remained vigilant.

Moving ahead, the mutant heard faint voices. He stopped and listened intently. After a few seconds, he decided to pursue the sounds. Walking southwest, Yarasuro noticed an unusual cluster of vines and gestured the others to follow him. Upon further inspection, they found what appeared to be a grotto nestled into the rocks behind a multitude of faux vines.

“Sands of Balvon, how did you spot this?” Rah’tera inquired.

“Dude, look at his eyes. Let alone his face,” Dojin responded.

“Point taken.”

Considering how benetarians reacted to magic and superstition, Yarasuro didn’t feel bad kicking a bed of candles aside. He then gripped a religious-looking female statue that had twelve arms, toppling it in the process. Nothing but a wall of rocks greeted the mercenaries. The mutant snorted, extending an arm towards the ghensoth who took the hint and rammed himself through the cracked boulders that crumbled into dust on impact.

“Bitchin’,” the renegade said.

Shirakaya cleared her throat. “Nice work, gentlemen,” she said, unsheathing her ghanis blade. “You know the deal, mercs: weapons out and charged.”

With anticipation lodged in their guts, the quintet followed the torch-lit footpath that curved and brought them downward. As they descended through the spiral passage, they heard whispers in another tongue. Anxiety festering in his pounding heart, Dojin sprinted down the flickering cavity and opened fire.

“Party’s over, assholes!”

To his surprise, his plasma shells had zero effect on the sextet. Only an open sarcophagus was damaged, revealing a screaming boy. Fury on her face, Shirakaya rushed down and assisted the reckless renegade, along with her other comrades. A barrage of beams flew across the chamber, followed by a salvo of fireballs and bolts of lightning that had been conjured by the female cultists.

Swiping their enchanted blades, Shirakaya and Yarasuro cut through the fireballs. Xorvaj, however, wasn’t able to repel one of the bolts of lightning, which sent him smashing against a wall. Rah’tera hurled plasma daggers at the cultist who harmed the ghensoth, piercing her neck. Upon her death, another cultist summoned a bitter-cold gale that doused the flames of every torch in the hidden lair.

Feeling blind, most of the mercenaries withdrew to the cave’s ramp. Yarasuro was one of the few who remained, swiping his enchanted blades at the cultists. They attempted to hide but failed miserably, either being sliced in half or decapitated in the process. Now, only one of the cultists remained. Frantically, she reached into the tomb and grabbed the kidnapped boy.

“Retreat or suffer the prince’s demise!”

Shirakaya peered out from the corner of the ramp and hurled her sword at the last cultist, jamming the blade deep into her forehead. Blood splattered everywhere. The boy screamed and took off, but he was snatched by Shirakaya who quickly managed to calm him. In the midst of the dying chaos, Xorvaj got back on his feet.

“What in all the hells was that, Dojin?” Shirakaya said through gritted teeth, holding the distressed boy.

“What? Did you expect to have a conversation with these sisterhood scumbags?”

“Goddess, that’s not the point! No one hates that cult more than me, but we don’t go in guns blazing when there’s a hostage! Not ever!”

Dojin rolled his eyes. “Who knew there was a kid, more so that the prince has a twin.”

“Twin?” Vokken interjected via KLD. “The prince does not have a sibling, let alone a twin.”

“In that case, payback is a bitch!” Xorvaj roared, charging toward the stunned boy.

“No!” the freelancer cried out, standing in front of the prince. “Can’t you brutes just think for once before taking action? I told you about the echoic igsus. The prince was kidnapped. For what purpose? I don’t know yet. But this is him.”

“The-they wanted a de-demon to po-pose as me,” the boy said between sobs. “It w-was th-their desire to ta-take control an-and invite the em-emperor to ki-kill him.”

“I’m sure Myris would’ve loved—”

Shirakaya pinched the renegade’s shoulder, ignoring his piercing whimper. “Vokken, has Eladoris returned?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“We’re on our way back. Myris is in grave danger. You must get her out of the castle immediately.”

“Did you hear that, Oracle?” the AI said, transmitting the message to her.

Back in the royal bedchamber of the countess’s fortress, Myris shrugged. “I don’t get it. Why? This place is totally loaded with guards, and the boy is unconscious. I have things under control.”

The boy abruptly roared, his body floating, expanding, and shredding apart. Within the torn flesh manifested a demonic being whose skinless, prickled body looked as hideous as its horned face. It slapped the shrieking countess to the floor and levitated toward Myris who remained motionless and pale.

The demonic being extended its needle-shaped hands at the oracle in attempt to pierce her face. Just then, one of the stained-glass windows shattered as a poisonous-looking flow of power consumed the demon, sucking its life force. Emerging through the window, Eladoris focused her leech-like spell on the insidious creature.

“Elly!”

Eladoris ignored the overjoyed oracle. Despite the strength of the necromancer’s dark magic, the demon used telekinesis to hurl its adversary back into the midnight sky. It rapidly flew toward the heavens, confronting Eladoris. Murmuring an incantation, she tried subjugating the demon.

“Pathetic,” it said monstrously. “Your proficiency in demonology and necromancy are abysmal.”

To no avail, the demon produced an ear-shattering roar as it swiped its needle-like fingers at the necromancer. Wings extended, she veered aside and dodged the attack while summoning an enchanted pitchfork. Not wasting any time, Eladoris hurled the weapon into the demon’s spine. She then murmured another incantation, gaining control of its bones and ripping them out of the skinless body.

Myris cheered from the window. “Hell yeah, necro!”

“If you can’t mind-control the damned thing, conquer it with death.”

Eladoris descended back into the chamber. Yet, before she could reenter the castle, she was blasted with a fireball from behind. Mana shield decimated, she fell flat on to the roof of a turret. Myris shrieked, witnessing skin and muscles reforming on the skeletal entity. As the demon replenished its body, it launched multiple waves of flame at its adversary.

“Look out!” Myris shouted.

The necromancer flew up just in time, fireballs destroying the turret’s roof. She swiftly descended to the surface, waiting for the demon to pursue her. Though it did follow, Eladoris staggered when it slammed onto the ground. Not only did it cause a tremor upon landing, but the demon also transformed into a giant.

“Conquer with death?” the demon bellowed, its body enflamed. “I am death!”

Villagers and nobles from Omav’s castle scrambled, running for their lives. For the first time since her battle with Shirakaya, Eladoris looked as if she’d met her match. Nevertheless, she refused to flee like the humyn colonists. Flying up toward the fiery fiend, she attempted to smite it with an enchanted scythe while simultaneously putting a curse on its soul.

The demon, however, merely cackled, immune to curses. Its flame-filled body also caused the scythe to dissolve. The demon whacked Eladoris down to the ground and was about to step on her when it was unexpectedly blinded by a bright light; it was followed by Myris whose eyes glowed as she descended on her hovering chair. Serene and focused, she extended her hands and released a magical nimbus, its radiance surrounding the demon until seizing it.

“Su-krey al’sa fum-na,” the oracle said, composed. “In the name of Maz’hura and all that is holy and pure, I banish you back from whence you came!”

“Your feeble power can never banish me!”

“Bek-na ghem jah-rey var’la,” the oracle continued.

Some of the lingering colonists gazed at what the oracle was doing. They were frightened by the demonic monstrosity but also mesmerized by the white magic. Myris continued to remain focused, ignoring the demon’s screech. As she thought of the wellbeing of her people, the power of her divination increased. The arcane nimbus grew until it engulfed the entire colony, causing the demon’s corporal form to decompose and disintegrate.

“Well done!” Eladoris said, unable to avoid a tone of envy.

“Yes,” Vokken said via kinetic link. “I am truly impressed. For a fleshling, your power in divination is remarkable.”

Villagers and soldiers in the vicinity cheered, Lady Niksa included. Myris saw all her people return and celebrate. Thrilled to see a moment of peace in one of her colonies, she felt tempted to reveal her true identity. In what felt like an instant to the oracle, her former life of royalty flashed by her mind. For a moment, she earnestly wanted to resurrect her old life. Yet she thought about how hateful the Lojarians had been, especially with magic. In the end, she shed a tear and kept her mask on.

“Lady Niksa,” the oracle began, “for the safety of my people, please ensure the events that occurred here don’t reach Lojarian ears.”

“I…I’ll make sure of it.”

Moments later, the countess joined them. Though relieved that the monstrosity had been banished, she couldn’t help but weep for the loss of her son. Eladoris saw the frail countess, who looked dismayed, and scoffed.

“Useless humyn,” she muttered to herself.

“My baby boy,” the countess said, weeping. “How can this happen? How can he be gone?”

“He’s not,” Vokken said aloud via Myris’ kinetic link device.

“Where in oblivion are the others?” Eladoris asked, her brow furrowed.

“Calm yourself, my Queen,” Vokken responded. “They found cultists from Sisterhood of Light and put a swift end to their vile scheme, but not before they summoned that doppelganger. Shirakaya has the real prince and is bringing him back as we speak.”

“What?” the countess said, her voice filled with hope.

“You heard right, my dear Countess,” Myris said, maintaining her mask. “Your son was kidnapped, but our fearless leader found him and is bringing him here. All is well between the heavens and hells. Now, where’s the mula?”

Forsaken

Abandon not those who care for your wellbeing. Neglect only what harms the body, mind, and soul. For what greater bliss is beyond love? There will be pain. There will be joy. There will be sadness. There will be peace. There will be Chaos. But in the end, Order shall prevail. Believe in yourself. Have faith in those around you. But most of all, take comfort in the power of love. For with the Great Love, there can be no abandonment.

Apophthegm of the Divine 61:25