New Enemies - Sean P. Wallace
Copyright 2015 by Sean P. Wallace.
Memorable names and terms from Deep Echoes, a story set five years ago...
Geos – A pangea world which, more than a century ago, lost all memory of the past. Their civilisation had Elizabethan-era technology before, and it's taken them a century to piece it back together.
The people of Geos almost-exclusively worship the sun, Sol, and fear 'the dark brother,' Lun. Politically, they are divided into those accepted into a Station as children and those who are not. The only exception are the Shields, a soldier Station the Stationless can volunteer to, and one criminals are sent to as punishment. The Stationed have food, wages, and funding provided for them; the Stationless either become Servants or struggle alone.
Maya – A trainee Contegon, a holy warrior, whose crisis of faith led her to abandon the Station. Fleeing, she was found by a stranger called Nephilim who trained her to use Cyrus Force, a hidden human ability which allows one to birth Spirits who can form armour, hurl attacks, or increase the effectiveness of weapons. Maya used Cyrus Force to fight the Disciples when they marched on Aureu, Geos' capital, and nearly defeated them. Nearly. Only through the intervention of an odd being did she survive to clear her name and create the Station of Acolyte to teach others how to use Cyrus Force.
Chain – Maya's best friend at the Contegon Academy. Damaged by association with a Heretic, she was not sent to the Front to fight and so stayed in Aureu. There, she met and fell in love with Wasp, leader of the Merchant Station. However, the unstable Wasp attacked Chain during the Disciples' siege of Aureu, forcing her to leave him wounded and crumpled.
Responsible for the humans' ultimate victory in the 'Battle for Aureu', Chain should have been a hero. However, Chain's anger at her former best friend got the better of her and she broke a vow to the leader of Geos. Her shame was compounded when Maya publicly prophesied Chain's pregnancy, the only possible father being the man she now hates, Wasp.
Snow – A young man used by Maya seduced to steal his mother's Identity Papers and leave the heavily-guarded Aureu. Aiding a Heretic, albeit accidentally, would have destroyed his family's reputation as it destroyed Chain's, so, to avoid the scandal, he and his parents fled to the western Front where his grandfather, Shield-General Scar, could protect them.
This flight made him witness to the Disciples' destruction of the western Front. Given temporary authority by the final order of Scar, Snow led the refugee children from the city of Call back to Aureu, bringing word of the coming invasion and pathing the way for their ultimate survival.
To correct the damage she did to him, Maya used her political influence to make Snow her first trainee Acolyte, and put him on the track to replace his grandfather as Shield-General.
Disciples – Robotic nemeses who have fought the people of Geos since records restarted.
Anger of Lun
“The deluded are Lun’s favourite targets.”
-- A Popular Saying
Chapter 1
A great forest separated Geos' new Fronts from the Disciple city of Moenian, a primordial woodland spoiled only by causeways the Disciples had torn through them. The further one got from the Fronts, the more the land looked untouched, wild, aside from where the Disciples regularly marched through them to war. Even there, gnarled branches and impudent grasses reached out into the worn, dead earth.
In the midst of these lands, Anger of Lun rested, an unwitting testament to humanity’s progression. Thick trees rose boldly around him. Verdant greenery – grass, moss, weeds, and clover – provided uneven carpeting. Running across the forest bed took courage and caution, as one always risked a poor step and breaking an ankle miles from anyone who knew or cared about you.
Anger of Lun avoided the ground wherever possible. With his abilities, that was most of the time.
He lay in a hut built in the most accommodating tree, which was little more than a platform with a camouflaged tent over it. Above him, a waxed sheet kept the rain away and collected it for later use. It was an awkward arrangement, but a well-hidden one, so he made do: his comfort paled in comparison with Lun's will.
Tall and thin, Anger of Lun wore black robes with a dark hood that cast his face in shadow. Two whips were tied around his waist, each with a pale yellow gem set in their grip. His black boots were cracked but worn-in, almost a second skin. He looked like he was resting, except for the hand cupped to his ear. Still, he listened carefully.
Then he heard a yelp of distress and panic, a strangled sound no animal makes during normal predation. The Disciples were hunting again, which meant Anger of Lun must hunt too.
He stood and prayed to Lun for the power to kill the Disciples. After thirty seconds, the gems set in his whips glowed. This light reached out, extending like spilled honey, until the whips were bathed in yellow light. Anger of Lun tested one, let it snap a few feet away, and nodded when vibrant energy extended beyond the whip and cracked like thunder.
Satisfied, he jumped from his platform and threw a whip out. The Lunlight again extended, but this time it wrapped around a tree, forming a rope that let him swing around its trunk. He flicked his wrist, the energy released, and he snapped the other whip onto the next tree.
It was a showy way to travel, but Lun appreciated such things. Why hide yourself or be ashamed of what you can do? Besides, it was safer than running across the treacherous ground.
Wildlife scattered before him as he swung, squirrels and birds darting away. This created a cacophony, but Disciples concentrate only on their prey when they hunt, and so would not notice the minor stampede. Anger of Lun fell into a rhythm of swinging, and listened for their prey's dismayed panic.
Soon, there was another yelp of pain from the north-east. Anger of Lun threw both whips out, stopping himself between two trees. With a flick, he snapped the whips back and landed on a flat patch of grass.
He soon found the Disciples' trail. Not that it was hard to follow three of the monsters running down a pack of wolves. The forest had become eerily quiet with the Disciples' passing: even the insects had realised they should remain still, silent. Anger of Lun's breathing seemed to echo between the trees. He knew that was ridiculous, but the strange notion stayed, perhaps because it was better than considering the fight to come.
Whimpers and yelps from the wolves echoed out, and then he heard the terrible, rhythmic whirring of the monsters who hounded them. Anger of Lun slowed and strayed from their trail to seek a vantage point. He moved deliberately now, each minor rustle chosen carefully, each step well-considered.
Soon, he saw his prey. Their golden claws were dipped with blood, and water steamed from their metallic skins. One had wire nets over their shoulders, in which three wolves struggled, panicked beyond all sense. The others advanced on an enormous wolf and her pup. The she-wolf growled at them, her hackles raised and her teeth bared. Her pup rubbed into her flank as though it could hide there.
Anger of Lun's purpose was to disrupt all Disciple activity. To that end, he had spent the last few years cutting supply lines, disrupting their assaults on the Fronts, and blocking their causeways. Sometimes, he packed up and worked with his fellows so the Disciple hierarchy never worked out where they operated from. But he hadn't had to do that as much recently with the local Disciples concentrating on hunting wildlife. His job now was to disrupt these hunts.
He continued quietly until he was close enough to strike. By that time, the Disciples had surrounded the Alpha, who was losing her mind with fury and panic. The Disciples didn't have a spare net, must have planned on carrying her back to Moenian. Without skin, the act wasn't dangerous to them.
When a Disciple bent to pick the wolf up, getting a claw to the face that it ignored, Anger of Lun attacked. Both whips sc
raped down the Disciple's outstretched arm, and the energy cut deeply into the metal, rendering the limb useless.
The Disciples all turned and raised their gun arms to fire. Anger of Lun threw himself aside, avoiding each shot. Behind the cover of a tree, he pressed a gem on his necklace and whispered another prayer. Bullets shredded the tree as he spoke, would pierce the trunk in seconds. He didn't have to pray for long: yellow energy covered him, deflecting the Disciples' bullets as they tore through his cover.
Lun did not provide his grace for long, particularly protective strength, so Anger of Lun ran out and lashed the Disciples' gun arms, disarming the two not carrying wolves. The other shot him between the eyes, a disconcerting shot to survive: he couldn't help but raise his arm to his face, which allowed the disarmed Disciples to close in.
He ducked under the first attempt to sever his head, and then rolled between the pack as they followed up with a gutting and a hamstring shot. In response, he raked Lun's fury down their backs, trying to sever their strange metal organs. One saw this coming and took only a glancing blow. The other took a deep gash, the wound enough to kill it. Smoke billowed from its husk.
The Disciple still capable of shooting held its captives, which writhed furiously, howling. The Alpha and the pup had escaped, sensing their opportunity. The Disciple didn't seem to care as its arm clicked and twisted in horrible ways, changing shape and form. Anger of Lun recognised the motion and threw a whip out. The explosive shot passed beneath his feet as he shot towards the tree.
Then it burst in all its fury. Anger of Lun was thrown against a tree, hard. He struggled to his feet and saw that the land where he had stood was now a bowl in the earth. Many trees were aflame. The other Disciple had been caught in the blast, but it had survived, its skin melting as it slowly picked itself up.
The explosion would give other Disciples in the area the exact location of the fight. Anger of Lun had to go soon, and then avoid his home for days, for fear that the Disciples might track him.
Two more shots came at him. He dived forward, rolling underneath both, and used their force to propel himself past the Disciple before it could strike again. He landed, skidding on the undergrowth, but wasted no time: before he'd stopped, he wrapped both whips around the Disciple's gun arm and used his momentum to rip it away.
The dismembered hand smoked as the whips pulled it away: an explosive shot was lodged in it. Anger of Lun flicked his wrists and threw the limb at the melted Disciple. It crashed against the monster, and then discharged, rendering it a pile of molten orange and foul smoke in a brilliant explosion.
The remaining Disciple dropped its quarry and charged Anger of Lun, striking him in the back. Lun's protection held, kept him alive, but it faded as he tumbled. Angle of Lun came to a stop, and used a tree trunk to flip onto his feet and avoid a clawed foot ripping through his spine. He tried to put some distance between him and his opponent, but the Disciple kept at him, gave him no time to recover.
At close range, a whip would normally be useless. But Anger of Lun did not wield normal whips. He dropped one and gripped the other with both hands. Lunlight shone across its length, responding to his will by firming the leather up. He then used the whip as a short staff, deflecting the Disciple's attacks. Lun’s energy sparked each time it touched the Disciple, singeing its golden skin.
The Disciple lunged with both arms to catch him out. This was a common Disciple tactic, so Anger of Lun rolled under the assault. Rising beside the creature, it was simple to wrap the whip around the Disciple's head and pull, Lun’s fury severing it neatly. Anger of Lun span, released the end of the whip, and slashed down the Disciple, ensuring its death.
In the post-battle silence, Anger of Lun breathed in, allowing his raging body to calm. Soon he would have to run, but he let himself recover first.
Over his breathing, he heard the wolves yelp and wail in their nets. Their suffering pulled at his heart: he couldn't leave them like that, not with more Disciples on the way. The animals snarled and gnashed, not recognising friend from foe in their frenzy, but he didn't mind. With three swift cuts, he gave them enough room to escape and backed away, let them work their own way out.
The first wolf took a minute to crawl out, eventually deciding to use its paws for purchase. When free, it growled at him, its mouth frothing. That seemed a good time to escape: Anger of Lun collected his discarded whip and swung away. The wolf gave chase for a few feet, but thought better of it.
Lun's will had been achieved: the Disciples would not get these beasts for whatever dark purpose they held. It felt good to do what he'd been sent north to do, to meet Lun's expectations.
Lun. Oh how he loved Lun. The person he had been, the sad little girl confused about her identity, had once had the pleasure of meeting Lun. A great black beast covered in spikes and darkness, terrifying and awesome, he had understood her: he had accepted who she felt she was, told her she could be anyone under his eyes. The path to that meeting had been long and hard, and the resulting mission far tougher, but it was worth it for the tolerance and love Lun had shown to the person Anger of Lun once was.
Anger of Lun swung away, to hide and wait. As he went, he thanked Lun for this and every opportunity he had been given.