HTG - Chapter 162 ( Lunara POV )

Lunara

Chapter One-Hundred-Sixty-Two : Musings of Faith - Part Two

Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation

Solar System: D-447

Planet: Ora

Location: Upon the sands of the Colosseum.

“What did you see?” one of them asks Arrum.

He shakes his head, “It was nothing, I thought I saw a dead man.”

“We need to move,” the oldest among them says, he looks similar to Arrum and another man with them, steel grey eyes and dark skin, a face weathered by adversity, the others nod in agreement.  

My head swivels upwards, in the skies above us is flagship Thorn, the strongest warship under the command of House Helenius. Its ventral doors are opening, exposing its Railguns. They wouldn’t, surely not. Not a civilian city. Never a…

The air cracks like a whip as the Railguns from the belly of Thorn begin firing in sequence. The ground shakes as the railgun’s projectiles rain down, piercing deep through the layers of the city of Orarak. Everything is rumbling, screams filling the air as holes are cleaved through the tunnels underneath. Residential skyscrapers that lined the outer wall of the Colosseum begin to collapse as they are bombarded indiscriminately… it is madness, they aren't just aiming for the Colosseum, they mean to destroy the entire city.

My holopad is glitching with interference… they are wiping out the evidence of what has happened here. Wiping out the stain on their house’s legacy.  

Where the hells is Kotina? She said she would meet me. There’s a message on my holopad, one from Fennec. I haven’t had time to read it yet. When I turn back to grab Kalon, I see the others have already slung him over their shoulders and are fleeing. I give chase now, closing the distance in three bounds.

“Stay back or learn my blade's song,” Arrum says, spinning about, holding his knife between us.

The city buildings are crashing down, a deep ominous rumbling from underneath us, yet he and the others risk their lives to carry Kalon. Arrum’s eyes are fierce like Kalon’s. The others hold up their knives now, like a pack of noble dire wolves, I feel the loyalty they have for Kalon in their stances as they move between us, surrounding him. It reminds me of my father’s Knights.

“I don’t mean any harm, I just want to…”

A voice from behind me interrupts, one that I know, it takes me by surprise to hear it.

“Akah.”

It is the Kuwathi word for hello, but Kalon told me a Kuwathi would never use it like that. I turn to look upon them, a beautiful woman with radiant red hair and eyes to match. She glances at me for but a moment before moving to Arrum and looking down at Kalon. Why is Solara here? I’m about to speak, but I hear Leora’s words in my mind.

Trust her, she is one of my disciples.

What… my mind is spinning.

“I am your sponsor, Nekam,” she says to the oldest among them.

Nekam… my hand tightens as my anger flares past my confusion, his name is one that I know, he sold Kalon.

Solara looks at Arrum, “I have been helping Kalon, and all of you. Come, time is short, my shuttle is…”

“Helping Kalon?” I ask, confused again, “Why the hells are you here?”

“There is no time to explain, Luna, we need to…” she pauses for a loud explosion near us that shakes the ground, she turns and squints in the distance, swearing under her breath. “We will find another transport, it is not safe up here,” she breathes, nodding to them.

The sound of stone cracking loudly draws my attention, a large piece cleaves from the tunnel entrance and falls toward them. Time dilates, slowing down as I release my soul’s pressure, strength flows into my body, and clarity unclouds my mind. My leg strikes the stone as it falls, shattering it in a plume of dust and debris. I press my soul back, time returning to its normal cadence.

“Sekat…” the man she called Nekam says.

She is not wrong, we must leave this place, the lower floors should withstand the barrage for a time, long enough for us to get to the lower hangers, where Warden Adona told me to leave my shuttle.

Nekam and the others are still wary of us. They do not trust us.

“Your leg, and your arm, that was me,” Solara says, then turning to look at the barrage moving toward us again, “You must trust me, or you will die.”

Nekam curses looking her over, “We can trust her, I think.”

“We need to move,” I say, looking at Solara, “My shuttle is parked below.”

She nods, but there is hesitation in it. The others reluctantly follow me as well, still carrying Kalon.

“You have a plan?” Nekam asks, the others are wary of me though, their knives still in hand as they run behind me.

“Part of one,” I admit, jumping over rubble. The air is heavy with smoke, making it hard to see clearly.

“Vek…” one of them curses.

My holopad vibrates to remind me of an unread message. Before I can check it, I hear a loud whistling over the chaos, in a normal tune and tone, as though unbothered by the pounding of the railguns firing upon the city. Who would be calm enough to whistle a tune at a time like this? And why do I know the tune? It sounds like something my grandfather used to whistle. It moves further down one of the collapsed tunnels. I’m half tempted to race after it, but I don’t. Their lives are in my hands.  

Never mind that. We need to move. Adona is in the hanger bays helping people escape, or so she told me before communications were cut off, my shuttle is there. Opening up my holopad as I move, I see a message from Fennec. We have not spoken much since I knocked him out and ejected him from an escape pod.

Kotina told me you were on Ora again

For the record, go fuck yourself

Not happy you knocked me out, less happy…

Never mind, no time for that

Hanger Bay is tits up, don’t go there

I’ll pick you up on the Colosseum sands

Be ready, and do not leave without him

I owe him

He seems upset still, which is unsurprising. I trust him though, despite our differences. This message was sent before the barrage started… will he be there? What happened that he owes Kalon? There is so much that I am missing, so much that I am trying to understand after all those months of solitude.

“Change of plans,” I say, wheeling about, turning back towards where we came.

“Sekat…” one groans.

“What do you mean change of plans?” Solara asks, looking back and forth, “Up there is a death sentence for them.”

“A shuttle will pick us up. Come, as you said, time is short.”

We rush back through the cracking halls.

“Something is wrong with him,” Arrum says, hoisting Kalon up as we move.

We do not stop our pace, but I see Kalon’s eyes flitting open and closed, the Kuwathi glow high in them. The center of his chest illuminated crimson. Dark webbing flows back and forth as though something is fighting inside of him. Shit. Nothing we can do right now. If he does change, will I have the strength to… My heart begins twisting as the lines around his snake with light and darkness.

As we reenter the Colosseum’s sands, I see a figure standing in the center, at their feet amongst the rubble from Railgun fire… I see Kotina, slumped on the ground in a heap. My heart begins to thump like thunder in my chest, matching the chorus of explosions all over the city. The figure slowly turns to face us, dust obscuring their face.

The man in the center of the Colosseum looks towards us, his gaze is unnerving as I squint through the dust at him. As the dust begins to unshroud their face, my head tilts ever so slightly, it’s Dargo, he is still here. But why is Kotina at his feet? Has he attacked her? My hand reaches for my Ionic blade’s hilt.

“Stay back,” Nekam warns the others as the dust clears even more, “Be ready to flee.”

“It is just one man,” Arrum says, his face looks confused as he looks at Nekam, then back to the man. There is a change in him as he looks closer, as though he begins to feel something. It is something we are all feeling.

“He may as well be an army,” Nekam says shaking his head, “It is folly to fight him, better to flee.”

My eyes take Dargo in, I do not know him well, and before today I had not seen him since I was a girl, since before my mother… pushing the memories away, I try to remember more about him. Kotina and Father have spoken of him before, not in public, but in private. They say he is the greatest swordsman to have ever lived. Kotina once told me in a drunken stupor one night after he came to visit my grandfather, that some of the Gods may even fear the edge of his blade. She does not praise often. I can feel her spirit from here, she is not dead, only unconscious, but why?

“We must protect the Alakin,” the one they called Henek says. I recognized the name from Kalon’s retelling of his old Clan chief’s fall. How does Kalon inspire such fierce loyalty from someone who was once his enemy?

“We will draw him away, take Alakin,” the one they call Neeba says, his grip is shaking on the hilt of his weapon, but his resolve is clear.

Yet another that was his enemy, he tried to kill Kalon once. Yet, I do not feel uneasy, their loyalty is clear.

Dargo shifts his gaze from us, turning upwards towards the sky, watching the Railguns rain hellsfire on the city. There is a slow tilt happening to the levelness of the city, the Etherium drive must have been damaged, and the city is beginning to slowly fall from the skies. Where is Fennec? Will I be able to recover Kotina? Fucking hells… focus on what is in front of you.

“They ruined my favorite teapot you know,” Dargo sighs, moving his hand slowly towards the sheathed sword upon his hip.

“Dargo… I do not wish to fight you,” I say, grasping the hilt of my Ionic blade, heart pounding. I can’t sense all of his aura, I have no idea how strong he is. All I know is that Kotina is one of the strongest Knight Commanders in the galaxy, and she lies at his feet.

“Watch closely,” Dargo says, placing his hand on the hilt, moving into a pose, “For it is rare that I draw the Day Mother’s blade.”

The Day Mother… Leora is known by that name… he worships her too? My head is reeling, thoughts bubbling to the surface. Why is he here? Why has my Goddess taken such an interest in this conflict? Did they use me? Is this some kind of… what the fuck is going on?

Leora comes to my side now, entering my perception again. Placing her hand on my shoulder, the questions quiet as I take her in fully. It is always strange how real it feels, as though she is really here, though I know she is not in this Realm, not truly. I feel her power seeping into me, slowing down time in my perception. Her other hand is on Solara’s shoulder, and Solara’s face bears excitement, does she know Dargo too?

Leora’s mouth is in a full open smile as she watches the energy flowing off Dargo rising, reality bending around his spiritual pressure as he begins releasing it… he is ridiculously strong… stronger than my father even. Leora’s eyes sparkle in the glow of the blade as it erupts in light, shining through the cracks in the sheath.

“A thousand cuts…” Dargo begins, there is a flash of movement my eyes cannot follow even with my Goddess slowing my perception of reality, the sword is already back in the sheath “…in one.”

Nothing happens for a moment… then suddenly… like a solar flare rippling across a planet’s magnetic field, light erupts all over the sky, pushing back all of the Railgun’s onslaught. The sound barrier shatters as the wind rushes away from Dargo, blowing back the debris. Vibrations rattle existence itself, sending objects into the air in defiance of natural law. I fall to my knees as the energy cascades around us, my mouth agape in awe of what is happening.

Reality warps as curved blades of light cut through the air, ripping the belly of the Flagship Thorn asunder. Smoke billowing from it as it begins to lose altitude. The Railguns… completely, and utterly destroyed in a single move.

The distorted air around Dargo falls back as the pressure of his soul is pulled back in. My hands are trembling, my eyes blinking again and again but still, I cannot fully fathom what I just saw. It goes beyond swordsmanship… is it the blade? Is that his power? My mind is spinning. Father and Kotina have told me before of the upper boundaries, but I have never seen it, not with my own eyes.

He walks towards me, his pace steady as he drags Kotina behind him by her leg, plopping her down next to me. He moves towards Kalon. Nekam and the others move in front of Kalon, blocking the path, and protecting him. Their eyes burn brightly, hands trembling but they do not succumb to the fear, they stand firm, even if it is folly. As I take in their courage and loyalty to each other, even in the face of certain annihilation, I cannot help but be swept by how profoundly beautiful it is.

“I was not wrong to learn your names,” Dargo says, looking at each of them in turn.

He steps forward, Arrum leaps in front of him, his weapon extended, and his hands shake, but his resolve does not.

There is a grin on Dargo’s face as he asks, “And what is your name, boy?”

Arrum does not reply, his grip tightens on the hilt.

“His name is Arrum, Keeper,” Nekam says, still tense.

Keeper? Dargo was their Keeper? That can’t be right, why would he be here of all places? What the hells is going on? Turning to my Goddess, looking for answers, she gives me a sly smile and a wink. I cannot help but feel angry at this, it is becoming more clear that she used me. I think about what my grandfather once said, as he drew upon his favorite pipe, blowing concentric smoke rings. Words from the memory of it echo in my mind.

We mortals are the playthings of the God’s whims

Doomed to toil under their pleasures and suffer their vices

Lest we rise to meet them

That which could be—will always seek—That which will be