Chapter 133: A battle of wits...

This is incredible! To think that this citadel has been in existence since the time of the Kyth’faren! Tashana gasped, gazing up in awe at the majestic high-arched ceiling as they walked along the corridor of the Kyth’faren castle. Yet it still looks like construction was only completed a matter of days ago!

How old is it exactly? Alyssa asked in a hushed voice, gazing at the elegant architecture that precisely matched the design of the fortress in her pocket plane.

John shook his head. Rahn didn’t know. The archives do describe the final days of the Kyth’faren Empire, but he said there was nothing indicating how long it’s been here.

There was no obvious source of illumination around, but the airy hallway was pleasantly bright, the pale stone walls gleaming as though they were in direct sunlight. The trio walked along the corridor to the grand set of doors at the end, their eyes drawn to the intricate patterns traced in its marble-like surface.

Are these Kyth’faren Runes? Tashana asked, brushing her gauntleted fingers over the swirling shapes.

John hesitated then shook his head. I don’t think so ... or at least they’re not psychic runes. They’re probably just ornamental.

They’re beautiful... she whispered, gazing at them in fascination.

You can study them in detail later, he said, pushing the doors open. I think you’ll find this even more interesting.

Tashana’s breath caught as she stood bathed in multi-coloured shafts of light, the spectacular illumination coming from a row of stained-glass windows set high in the walls. However, it wasn’t the bright colours that had her entranced, but the glowing sphere of hexagons in the centre of the room.

Is this it? The Kyth’faren archive? she asked reverently, taking a faltering step forward.

John nodded. Yes, according to Rahn.

The Maliri archaeologist held out her hand towards the polygonal shape, then glanced back at John for confirmation. Is it alright to touch it?

He hesitated, then strode over to her side. Let me try first, just to make sure it’s safe.

Tashana moved aside, letting John bring his gauntleted hand closer to the glowing object. He touched its surface then felt a flash of sensation, his mind flooded with shapes, words, and images.

Woah! he gasped, wobbling unsteadily.

Are you alright?! Alyssa blurted out from behind him, a shrill edge to her voice.

He nodded as the disorientation passed. It was a bit of a headrush, but I feel fine now.

Gazing around in fascination, John felt like he was standing inside the sphere, with vast volumes of information filed away on each of the surrounding hexagonal tiles. He picked one at random, focusing on the word “Maedhane”, then he was tumbling down an endless well with images facing him on all sides. The pictures were spectacular, from sweeping mist-shrouded mountain ranges to enchanting emerald forests, giving him a breathtaking glimpse of the ancient Kyth’faren planet. The world was definitely alien, but there was an aching familiarity to the natural beauty, the flora and fauna not that dissimilar to the plants and creatures found on any Gaia-class world in the Terran Federation.

Reluctantly pulling himself out of the eldritch construct, he turned and gave Tashana an encouraging smile. It’s disorientating at first, but it seems safe enough.

Biting her lower lip with anticipation, Tashana held out her hand to touch the orb. She gasped and wavered for a moment, her eyelashes fluttering wildly. John held her upright, watching her face for the slightest sign of distress.

Oh! You weren’t exaggerating! she blurted out, holding onto him for support.

Maybe you should stop? John suggested, flicking a worried glance at her trembling fingers.

No, I’m okay, Tashana quickly replied, shaking her head. Wow ... this is incredible! I can’t believe how much information is stored here!

Alright, you can keep looking ... but sit down while you’re studying it, John said, guiding her to the curved benches that closely surrounded the data repository. And I want you to stop if you feel any kind of distress.

Yes ... I will, she murmured, already captivated by the ancient relic from an extinct civilisation.

Satisfied that the Maliri didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, John patted her shoulder, then turned to look at Alyssa. His smile faltered when he saw her fraught expression.

I’m fine now, there’s nothing to worry about, he said to reassure her.

There’s so much pain here... she whispered, her face pale with fear. An eternity of bitter rage and heartbreaking sorrow...

John looked at her in alarm. The whole castle, or just this room?

I-I don’t know... Alyssa muttered, the blonde turning to dart an anxious glance down the corridor behind them.

Are we in danger? John asked, looking at the jittery blonde with concern. Is something getting ready to attack us?

She shook her head helplessly. I’ve never felt anything like this before ... I just don’t know.

John narrowed his eyes and activated his X-Ray vision, then carefully swept his gaze over the interior of the castle. He was able to make out the dimensions of rooms and corridors inside the fortress, but there was no sign of any living entities that might pose a threat.

Drawing his sword just in case, he muttered, Alright ... we’ll keep our eyes peeled while Tashana studies the archive. If there’s any trouble, we’ll leave immediately.

Okay... Alyssa agreed, shivering involuntarily.

The Kintark officer paced back and forth on the Bridge of a heavy freighter, staring at the holographic Sector Map that floated above the command table. The bulky cargo hauler had been commandeered by the Imperial navy and was now at the forefront of a dozen similar ships, all heading towards the invaders. The freighters weren’t alone in their mission as a second group accompanied them, this one comprised of ponderous mining vessels.

“Prelate Rentak?” the freighter’s helmsman asked, his stubby tail twitching nervously. Turning in his seat to look at the military officer who had replaced his old captain, he continued, “We have reached your desssignated navigation point.”

Rentak stared at the red and purple swirls of cosmic gases they had passed on their port flank, and felt a flicker of apprehension. Anything could be lurking inside the brightly-coloured astral hazard, even a Brimorian warfleet if they were operating on minimal power, and he would be none the wiser until falling into their laps. Instead of answering the navigator, he strode over to his command chair and activated the display to recap his orders. After double-checking that the coordinates were correct and this was the correct nebula, he rasped his teeth together to catch the helmsman’s attention.

“Change courssse to heading 245 and proceed inssside the nebula. I will Inform half the fleet to follow our lead,” he declared, before designating a point on the map a short distance inside its murky depths. “Hold at thisss posssition and begin jettisoning our cargo.”

The helmsman shot him a worried glance. “But Prelate ... the sssteel ssstanchionsss we are carrying will be undetectable with all thisss background interference. Deliberately creating a flight hazard inssside a nebula isss a crime punissshable by-”

Slamming his scaly palm down on the armrest of the command chair, with a crack like a plasma pistol, Rentak silenced the civilian. “If the Brimoriansss have any complaintsss, they can contact the Empresss herssself and asssk for recompenssse!”

After jumping in fright at the loud bang, the helmsman broke into a grin, finally understanding the purpose of their secretive mission. “Sssetting courssse, Prelate Rentak!”

Acknowledging him with a curt nod, Rentak began transmitting his orders to the rest of the freighters in his fleet. With that task done, he turned to watch the cluster of cargo haulers make a ponderous turn and head towards the nebula. Several of the lumbering ships held back, dumping out a number of nasty surprises for the invading enemy.

While the freighters went to work, the fleet of mining ships plodded onwards. Rentak didn’t envy them, as they had an even more dangerous task to complete, those brave souls heading even closer to the invading enemies.

How are you getting on, Tashana? John asked, placing his hand on the Maliri girl’s shoulder.

This is fascinating ... simply fascinating... she murmured in reply, the wonder quite clear in her voice. There’s so much information here on almost every aspect of the Kyth’faren civilisation. It’s going to take me months just to sift through it all and find out what’s here, but studying it in detail would take a lifetime.

That doesn’t surprise me; these archives have kept my father entertained for over nine millennia, John noted with a grimace. Have you found anything useful so far?

Tashana nodded, her violet eyes flicking back and forth as she stared at something only she could see. Take a look at this. I found a collection of images taken from Aeraldhaim, a Kyth’faren planet in what they called the Segaeth spiral ... on the opposite side of the galaxy from us.

How far away from Terra is that? John asked Alyssa, who was watching the corridor behind them with a wary eye.

If it’s located on the Scutum-Centaurus arm ... at least 60,000 light years, the blonde muttered distractedly.

Before John could ask any more questions, the polygonal object in the centre of the chamber began to glow. Light beamed out from a hexagonal tile, then pictures blossomed into existence on one of the walls, offering him a tantalising view into the galaxy’s distant past. Beautiful pale-stone cityscapes appeared, the elegant Kyth’faren buildings interspersed with broad tree-lined streets. Amidst the majestic splendour of the city was the tell-tale glitter of advanced technology, old and new integrated seamlessly in a way that John had never seen before.

The image suddenly burst into life, movement occurring within the city as small vehicles raced between the gleaming spires. It was surreal to see the same fantastical architecture that they’d only encountered in the Astral Plane, but as it had originally existed in Kyth’faren cities millions of years ago. John found it sobering to think that the beautiful megalopolis before them had been destroyed, its population devoured by Xar’aziuth to feed his insatiable hunger for power.

The imagery shifted, showing a view of the planet itself, with a gleaming orbital ring surrounding the world in low orbit. Like the view of the city beforehand, the picture smoothly came to life, with scores of unfamiliar spacecraft approaching the colossal docking facility. Each ship possessed a beautiful grace that made it quite obvious they’d been designed by a species who had mastered interstellar travel.

The picture panned back from the space station, revealing a gigantic hoop hanging motionless in space. The steady stream of traffic was coming from the glittering structure, with more of those mysterious spaceships heading back towards the enormous hollow disc.

Wait a second! What’s that? John called out, pointing to the circular device.

It’s the reason I showed you this image, Tashana replied, her unfocused eyes turning in that direction. I’ve seen multiple references to a hyper-gate network ... and I think this is one of their gateways.

John studied it in fascination. Is this the same kind of hyper-warp gate that Larn’kelnar was talking about?

Tashana turned away from the picture to look at him. I don’t know, but the Kyth’faren obviously used a similar kind of technology to travel across their Empire. Maybe those original gateways still exist and the Progenitors have taken over the network?

After considering it for a moment, John shook his head. Larn’kelnar talked about building his own and taunted me about not having constructed one yet. My father also mentioned that he expected me to have used Mael’nerak’s hyper-warp gate to fight the Progenitors; he gave me the impression that Mael’nerak built it rather than found it. I think we can safely assume that Progenitors construct their own before they start fighting any wars.

That makes sense, the Maliri archaeologist agreed.

What else have you found so far? John asked, tearing his eyes from the compelling images so that he could look at Tashana.

I’ve been reading through personal accounts of the collapse of the Kyth’faren civilisation, Tashana replied, her expression turning grim. They didn’t know what was happening at first. People seemed to be dying at random, their corpses discovered in their dwellings as little more than desiccated husks.

Husks? Like what Progenitors do their thralls? Alyssa interjected.

Tashana nodded. Exactly the same ... the bodies had the life force drained out of them. The Kyth’faren didn’t realise the threat they were facing until it was too late; Xar’aziuth was using dreadful psychic abilities that no one knew even existed. The death toll increased exponentially, until their civilisation dissolved into anarchy, whole worlds going silent as their terrified populations were consumed.

John experienced a disturbing flashback to one of his Astral nightmares, recalling the sight of a carpet of husked thralls lying withered and twisted at his feet. He shivered at the thought and shook his head to clear the horrible memory.

Have you found anything on Kyth’faren runic knowledge? he asked, eager to change the subject. Rahn said he discovered how to construct my runeblade from one of these archives.

The Maliri archaeologist shook her head and gave him a guilty look. I’m sorry ... I haven’t started looking yet. I was so excited by the opportunity to actually see Kyth’faren worlds and read first-hand accounts from their people that I got distracted.

John gave her an understanding smile. I guess this must be like finding the Holy Grail for you.

Tashana nodded enthusiastically. It really is! This place is an absolute goldmine of priceless information! She hesitated and her expression turned rueful. I’m sorry I let myself be distracted though. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out anything about Kyth’faren runes or runic weapons.

He patted her on the shoulder. Thanks, honey. Keep focused on that for now and we can come back to study the rest later.

Will do! she replied, her violet eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Turning away from the Maliri, John studied Alyssa, who was still deeply unsettled. Are you sure you’re alright? If it’s getting too much for you, we can all leave, then I’ll come back with just Tashana.

Alyssa immediately shook her head, but her wary gaze flicked to the corridors again. No ... I’m not leaving you.

John watched her for a long moment, then swept his gaze through the fortress again. There was still no sign of any hostile threats, but that gave him small comfort in the face of Alyssa’s troubling reaction to the citadel.

High Prelate Zorlin stood on the sweeping observation gantry overlooking one of Mar’Trinark Shipyard’s huge docking bays. His reptilian eyes followed a munitions train as it emerged from a tunnel in the side of the hangar, its open-topped trucks stacked high with hundreds of newly constructed EMP warheads. The vehicle rumbled along raised rails towards his flagship, the battlecarrier Breklan’tohok, which looked resplendent with its iridescent green armour glittering in the light.

While the train was huge, it was dwarfed by the colossal warship that dominated the hangar. The Breklan’tohok seemed to effortlessly swallow up the munitions convoy, which disappeared inside a loading bay below the battlecarrier’s starboard missile launchers. Zorlin knew that his munitions teams would now be working frantically, rushing to install all those EMP warheads in repurposed plasma missiles as they prepared for war with the Brimorians.

The High Prelate grimaced. He couldn’t help worrying that they were actually preparing for the largest collective suicide in Kintark history.

A piercing shriek reached his ears, the terrified wail fading away as if the owner of that voice was falling from a huge height. Zorlin caught movement out of the corner of his eye and he spotted a flailing figure arc across the hangar before landing in a crumpled heap. The Kintark engineer made no attempt to get up, but that wasn’t surprising considering the mangled state of his corpse.

Before he could do or say anything, the High Prelate heard the ominous approach of thumping footfalls and he turned to see the perpetrator of that unlucky engineer’s doom. Empress Tamolith stalked menacingly along the metal gantry, her massive maw twisted into a snarl of irritation. Several more Kintark engineers rushed to get out of her way, literally running for their lives as they sprinted past him.

“Zorlin!” Tamolith snapped, her amber eyes blazing with anger.

Fighting down his natural urge to flee in terror from the furious dragon, Zorlin managed to keep his clawed feet rooted to the spot. He gave the leader of the Kintark Empire a low, respectful bow. “Your Imperial Majesssty ... how may I be of ssservice?”

Tamolith towered over him as she came to a halt, her baleful gaze staring down at the leader of the Kintark defence fleets. “What is this nonsense about me abandoning the throne?!”

“Begging your pardon, Empresss, but you wouldn’t be abandoning the throne,” he stammered, wondering if he was risking death by contradicting the temperamental dragon. “Thisss isss merely a precaution.”

“You want me to cower like a whipped cur and flee from the treacherous Brimorian scum?” she rumbled indignantly.

Zorlin forced himself to meet her piercing stare. “Evacuating Kinta will ensssure your sssafety, Empresss. The oddsss are heavily ssstacked against usss.”

“You told me that Blake’s defensive plans would give us a fighting chance,” she growled, her reptilian eyes narrowing. “Have you changed your tune?”

The High Prelate shook his head. “No, Imperial Majesssty. We do have a chance ... but our forcesss are ssstill heavily outnumbered. If the battle should not go our way, I do not have a fleet ressserve to guarantee your sssafety.”

Tamolith scraped her claws across the gantry, accompanied by the shrill screech of mangled metal. “I thought the Brimorians were planning to target this shipyard, not our homeworld?”

“That’sss what Admiral Blake believesss isss their most likely courssse of action and I am in agreement with hisss asssesssment. If I wasss in the Enclave’s posssition and intended to cripple our ability to defend the Empire for decadesss to come, I would make dessstruction of the Mar’Trinark Ssshipyard the highessst priority. Having sssaid that, I do think that your withdrawal to the far reachesss of our territory would be wissse ... at leassst until the invasssion isss dealt with.”

“What kind of message would abandoning the Imperial capital send to my minions?” she snarled, lips curling back to reveal a terrifying set of huge fangs. “I’m already having to deal with widespread dissent after ceding half the Empire to the Terran Federation. If I appear any weaker, the planets I have left will start openly defying me!”

Zorlin spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Pleassse accept my humble apologiesss, Empresss. I cannot advissse you on sssuch mattersss ... my area of expertissse is fleet tactics.”

The Empress’ tail lashed back and forth, revealing her anxiety. She was quiet for a long moment, her amber eyes shadowed with worry. Tamolith blew out her breath in frustration, the wind whistling between her huge teeth as she exhaled, then the imposing dragon turned and headed back along the gantry.

Finally allowing himself to relax, Zorlin’s shoulders sagged with relief. He actually felt safer facing impossible odds against a highly-advanced alien menace than he did in an audience with the draconic Empress. His relief was short-lived as Tamolith’s long serpentine neck twisted around so that she was staring at him once again.

“I wish you good fortune in the battle, High Prelate. You carry the future of the Kintark Empire in your hands ... do not fail me.”

“I will do my utmossst, Empresss,” Zorlin replied with a respectful bow.

He watched the huge dragon depart, then turned on his heel and entered the elevator that would take him down to the hangar below. The fleet was nearly ready to depart and they had additional surprises to prepare for the Brimorian invaders.

I found it! Tashana blurted out, grinning with delight.

Found what? John asked, surprised that she’d already discovered something useful.

The schematics for your runesword! she replied, her eyes darting from side to side as she studied the information in the archive.

That was quick! Nice work, he said, patting the Maliri girl’s shoulder. Can I take a look?

Tashana nodded, already activating the Kyth’faren polyhedron. Of course ... let me just display it for you.

One of the hexagons blazed with light, then a technical schematic for his runeblade appeared on the wall of the chamber.

Kyth’vindathys, John murmured, reading the title written in Progenitor runic script. He glanced down at the gleaming ethereal weapon he clutched in a gauntleted fist, which was an exact replica of the one he held back on the Invictus.

Those runes ... I don’t recognise them. What are they? Alyssa asked in fascination, momentarily distracted from her misgivings about the Kyth’faren fortress by the surprising discovery.

John stepped closer and studied the intricate runic phrases needed to forge the weapon. Looking at the complex structures made his head spin, but he could sense the formidable power contained within those incantations. Like Alyssa, he didn’t recognise several of the elaborate sigils, which were not part of the Kyth’faren eldritch alphabet that he was familiar with.

I don’t know, he admitted with a puzzled frown. I’ve never seen them before either.

Then how did you forge your sword? Alyssa asked, waving a hand at the razor-sharp blade. You must’ve used all those runes to make it.

He gave her a helpless shrug, then glanced down at the rune-embossed weapon, turning it in his fist and watching as it reflected the light. I wasn’t even trying to create anything like this at the time. I was reshaping my sword to make it stronger, but I got distracted and made this runeblade before I realised what I was doing.

Dana’s runic affinity is a mystery as well, Alyssa reminded him. Maybe there’s another whole outer ring of runes that we’re missing?

Tashana turned to look at John over her shoulder. Or at least we’re missing them ... but you must have them locked away in your head.

John grimaced as a sudden thought came to him. My guide must still have control over all those runes ... that’s why I didn’t even know they existed. Shaking his head in frustration, he continued, Even when he’s locked away, my guide’s still a thorn in my side.

Alyssa slipped an arm around John and gave him a sympathetic hug. Not for too much longer.

Very true. After a lingering look of regret at the runic script, John turned to face Tashana again. Alright, why don’t you see what else you can find. We’ll have to come back for another look at the runesword schematics when I know what all those runes mean.

Okay, I’ll keep looking, the Maliri readily agreed, submerging her subconscious into the Kyth’faren archive again.

He felt Alyssa tremble beside him and glanced at her with concern. What’s wrong? Did you sense something else?

The blonde glanced warily over her shoulder. I just can’t shake this weird feeling that we’re being watched...

I haven’t seen any sign of movement here besides us, John said, his voice calm and reassuring. I’ll keep checking, just to be sure.

John’s eyes glowed with a blue light and he gave the fortress another perfunctory sweep with his enhanced X-Ray vision.

God fucking dammit! he swore, tightening his grip on his blade. I don’t believe it!

Tashana jerked herself out of the polyhedron’s telepathic construct when she heard his outburst and turned to look at John in alarm. What’s the matter?

My father ... he’s here. I just spotted the asshole landing on the battlements, John snarled, stalking towards the door behind them. I’ll go tell Rahn to fuck off. Call me immediately if you two get in any kind of trouble.

John, wait! Alyssa protested, striding after him. I’m coming with you!

He paused and shook his head. Rahn’s not any kind of threat ... I’m much stronger than he is now. Stay here and keep watch over Tashana while she studies the archive; I won’t be gone long.

Her shoulders slumped when she saw the fierce look of determination on his face. Alright ... but please be careful.

Stay safe, Baen’thelas, Tashana said softly, her expression filled with concern.

I will, he replied, giving them both a warm smile. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.

As John left the girls and the Kyth’faren knowledge repository behind, his smile faded and a cold, hard edge appeared in his eyes. He was sorely tempted to ignite his runeblade with Eldritch fire and deal with Rahn’hagon permanently, but his mother’s desperate plea for his father’s life still rang in his ears. Gritting his teeth with tightly-suppressed fury, he stormed down the corridors of the ancient citadel, bracing himself for the impending confrontation with his father.

It didn’t take long for John to reach the battlements, the use of psychic speed hastening his arrival. He burst through the imposing doors that led to the outer fortifications before Rahn’hagon had even managed to cross the battlements to reach the keep. His father froze as the doors slammed open, shocked by the sudden appearance of his son only a dozen paces away.

What are you doing here?! Rahn’hagon gasped, falling back a step.

Trying to find out what you stuffed inside my head, John growled, advancing towards him. Now leave before I make you.

Rahn’hagon bristled at his son’s scathing tone, never having been so casually dismissed before. He glared at John, torn between his anger and instinct for self-preservation. I showed you this place! You can’t order me to leave!

John gave him a grim, humourless smile. You’re not coming inside while I’m here ... but you’re welcome to try and force your way in. Let’s see what happens when you can’t hide behind my mother’s skirts.

What do you mean? his father said, looking at him in confusion. Jessica isn’t wearing a skirt.

It’s an old Terran expression, John explained, looking at his father with contempt. It’s what cowardly children do ... they taunt someone, then hide behind their mother when that person retaliates. The only reason you’re still alive is because you cowered behind Jessica.

Rahn’hagon flushed indignantly at the explanation behind John’s insult. Despite his anger, he eyed his son’s runeblade with trepidation and backed away, not wanting to antagonise John any further.

Alright, I shall depart, the ancient Progenitor grudgingly conceded. He paused, studying John curiously. Actually ... the only reason I’m here is because I was seeking answers about the nature of your abilities. Perhaps we could discuss that for a moment before I leave?