Second draft. Minor character changes and corrections to the overall prose and grammar. All of this will be reviewed again prior to its Kindle release.
----------------------------------------
Chapter 2.
What do we know of the Archons?
In a word…little.
We know they look like us, they talk like us, they express emotions like us.
According to the ancient scriptures, the Archons guided humanity across the gulf of space, following a Galactic Ley Line to this fair world, distant from what was once a thriving empire where humanity ruled supreme.
The scriptures elaborate to describe the Archons guiding a fleet of giant Arks, immense vessels the likes of which could carry the population of an entire prosperous land, and still have room to spare. These Arks bore our ancestors who would one day settle upon the continents and establish a civilization on this world. Some say those Arks can be seen twinkling in the night sky, circling the planet like small moons.
Even if we are to doubt the words of the scriptures, can we doubt the Archons technological prowess? After all, a great many of us have witness the Archon Tower, the seat of their power, a flying citadel that can traverse the skies like a thundercloud, sail the oceans like an island set loose upon the currents, or settle onto the land and stand taller than highest mountain peak.
No, we can doubt our origins upon these lands, but we cannot doubt that the Archons possess a technology that far surpasses what humanity has thus achieved in the centuries it has occupied the continents of this lush and verdant world.
However, some question whether the technology was theirs to begin with. After all, the scriptures do say that our ancestors departed from an empire ruled by humanity. Then there are those that ask why humanity has not achieved more in the time it has been here. Why have we stagnated? Why are we still existing as a race broken into small, divided plots of land we call kingdoms, duchies, and even empires?
Many point their fingers at the Archons.
Why do the Archons refuse to impart their considerable knowledge upon us? They provide the means that limits our impact on our environment. They prevent us from polluting our land and waters, and they help us with the basic necessities needed to survive. However, they hoard their knowledge and technology.
Is it because, despite millennia of existence on this world, and countless others, humanity has yet to learn to live peacefully with itself?
Excerpt from Angels or Devils?
A Treatise on the Archon Race.
(Falken)
With Kaden watching our backs in his Jotunn, we walked to the forest’s south border.
My chronometer doubled as a compass and came in handy in situations like these where I found myself on foot, rather than inside a lumbering Jotunn. So finding our way wasn’t difficult, and there was always Kaden on hand to provide directions.
I walked beside the girl, watching over her progress from moment to moment, my mind swirling with troubled thoughts.
I had three problems to consider.
The first of which was the battle, which was perhaps more of a skirmish. For now it was over, but I had the repercussions to ruminate.
House Kurama, which ruled the land of Kaitain, had chosen to breach into our territory, travelling so far as to enter Gaellen Forest some twenty kilometers shy of the northwest border between our respective lands.
I wanted to know why they had invaded us.
Was my being here the motivation for such a brazen incursion?
If they knew I was visiting the troops stationed here, were they unaware the First Army was also present, in addition to the already sizeable Fourth Army here at the border? With two armies stationed here, there was no likelihood of their victory.
What in the world was Lord Kurama thinking? Or had they intended to take me down and then retreat all along? But such action would lead to war. I doubted Kaden or the others would allow my death to go unpunished. At the very least, Kaitain risked a conflict with Caldera and possibly Reinvald to our north.
I thought of Orgenval to the south, itching to push at the lines of our Second Army.
Would Kaden and the others risk war with Kaitain when the war drums sounded every so often to the south?
I needed to discuss this with the others back at the camp.
The second matter to consider was the girl, and this presented a separate set of problems that nonetheless overlapped with the skirmish between House Kurama and my two armies.
Her name was Fallon, and she was a Khan.
I didn’t need to see the blue tattoo on her body, the mark of the Seal of Arcala, to know this. I had witnessed her operate a Warlord, and I’d watched that Warlord vanish into a thick white mist that chilled the air and frosted breath. As such, there was no doubt in my heart and mind that I owed my life to a Khan. I was also certain that she was a Wilder, referred to as such because she was a Khan not recognized by the Orden.
Therein lay my third major concern.
Fallon had interceded in the battle between Caldera and Kaitain in order to save my life. In doing so, she had breached the Rules of Engagement, as dictated by our enigmatic overseers, the Archons. The Rules were meant to impose a degree of chivalry and honesty to the battlefield. They were a means of limiting unnecessary carnage.
Those rules stated that a Khan could not oppose elements of an army in battle. In other words, a Khan could not enter a battle unless they were expressly opposing another Khan. However, when she saved me from certain death at the hands of House Kurama’s soldiers, Fallon had fought against men in Jotunn armor, not against another Khan and their Warlord. House Kurama could protest the breach before an Archon Tribunal, and it could affect the outcome of the battle.
I sighed inwardly, shelved those worried thoughts, and focused on the girl beside me.
As we walked between the tall, ancient trees, I listened to her tale.
That said, she did not offer much. As best she could guess, her village had been burned to the ground a month ago, and the villagers slaughtered. She didn’t know who attacked the village, and had no memories of what happened that day and night. She remembered waking up within the smoldering ruins, her body in pain, and discovered the strange bluish branding on her chest and torso. Not understanding her situation, she had fled when a patrol of riders on horseback had entered the village. Within a nearby forest, she chose to hide behind the treeline until the riders departed.
Certain they would return with a larger party, she had hurried back to the ruins of her home, gathered what belongings she could, and taken one of the few horses that remained. Though she was fortunate the patrol of several men had not seen fit to leave a guard behind, there was no time for her to search for her family amongst the dead.
As I listened to her, I couldn’t imagine what she had felt having to flee her home under such circumstances. I prodded her along with a subtle question here and there, which served to loosen her tongue little more, but I was troubled.
Beyond my intuition, I had no other means to judge her honesty or lack thereof. Even a skilled Ether Empath would have failed to find a lie because the Ether flowed around the girl and not through her, thus robbing the Empath of the means to utilize her talent. I knew this because I could sense the Ether avoiding Fallon. As an Ether Kinetic, I lacked the ability to weave or guide the Ether, but that I didn’t mean I couldn’t feel its presence. After all, it was through the Ether as a medium that I could reach out to objects imbued with Etherite and manipulate them.
For someone like me who had lived in the company of the Ether since birth, the void surrounding the girl was unnerving to say the least. I wondered if she had grown accustomed to the emptiness, forsaken as she was by the Ether, unable to reach out to it and use it to perceive her surroundings beyond the limitations of her five senses.
However, that felt like a question for another time.
Instead, I asked her what land she hailed from.
She hesitated noticeably. “Reinvald,” was her reply, her voice low and weary.
I heard the word, pictured it on a map in my mind, and felt unease brush its cold fingers against my heart.
Reinvald…our northern neighbors.
A relatively peaceful land with a strong military and a strong relationship with Caldera. Its ruling family, House Sandoval, was a staunch supporter of House Claymore. It was also a land that had no tolerance for the Khans, especially Khan Wilders such as this girl.
In that light, it made sense for her to flee her homeland.
I frowned to myself.
To think the slaughter of her village had taken place a mere month ago within Reinvald’s borders. An entire village razed to the ground, its inhabitants all dead but for this girl, chosen to bear the Seal of Arcala and gifted with a Warlord.
It was somewhat difficult to accept.
It wasn’t that I entirely doubted her words, but for now I knew only what she told me, and I believed she was holding back on the truth. However, I chose not to press her for more answers. There were questions that would have to wait until she was ready to confide in me.
Truthfully, she had saved my life, so for now I would grant her the benefit of the doubt.
I believed I owed her at least that much.
But why had she travelled south? Why flee into Caldera?
She offered me no explanation other than to state she was compelled to believe it was the right thing to do. She had felt she would find sanctuary across the border.
We walked a short distance in silence, until I gently queried her about her Warlord.
At first Fallon was reluctant to talk of it, but then the words slowly spilled forth from her lips.
The Warlord was something she could sense like a faint pressure at the base of her skull. The first time she had inwardly reached out to that pressure with her consciousness, it had responded, surrounding her in a blinding white mist that frosted the air with a brusque cold. When the mist faded, she found herself clad in the skeletal armor. Before possessing one, she had only heard of the Warlords in stories told by merchants passing through her village, carrying news of the state of affairs across the land, and she knew that Reinvald’s ruling family was not accepting of Warlords or the Khans Wilders who wielded them. Despite the power and protection her Warlord offered her, Fallon had nonetheless feared for her life.
Thus she had run away.
Long before we arrived at the edge of the forest, her walking grew unsteady and she soon sat down, her breathing heavy and labored.
I studied her in silence, and wondered if operating the Warlord for those scant few minutes had taxed her remaining strength. I saw the clear signs of strain, the lack of sleep, and physical exhaustion. A month on her own had taken its toll on her, but I understood why she had not taken refuge in another village. The people would fear her, and shun her, possibly calling for the local garrison to protect them from her, though I doubted there was anything a company of Jotnar could do against a Warlord. Any Jotunn that came close to her Warlord would be rendered immobile when it lost contact with the Ether. That was indeed a troubling thought, to know that our best machines were useless in a confrontation against a Warlord.
I noticed she was looking at me.
Fallon gave me an apologetic smile, and I wondered if she was reading my troubled thoughts.
I cleared my throat, and asked, “Why did you save me?”
Her smile faded, and she regarded me quietly, surrounded by the sounds of the forest and the humming of the Etheric drive mounted to Kaden’s Jotunn standing a dozen or more meters away.
“I felt…it was the right thing to do….” She smiled again and whispered, “Sorry….”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Closing her eyes, she collapsed on her side against a thick tree root.
I hurried to her side, and quickly realized she had fallen unconscious. Reaching out, I felt her pulse, finding it strong, but her pallor was clearly unhealthy.
Looking down at her sleeping face, I tried not to wrinkle my nose.
As pretty as she was, this girl could definitely do with a bath.
Then, through the tears in her dress, I saw a bluish marking on her chest.
My stomach clenched as I recognized the branding that was indeed much like a tattoo.
The Seal of Arcala – the bond between her and her Warlord.
It swirled and spread its tendrils between her breasts and over them, running down her sternum to her navel.
Even if people did not see her summon and wield her Warlord, this brand alone was enough to convince them she was indeed a Khan.
I crouched closer to her, and picked her up in my arms, hefting her a little as I rose to my feet.
She was lighter than I expected.
Turning around, I looked up at Kaden in his Jotunn’s cockpit.
“Remember, not a word of who she is to anyone. We found her wandering in the forest. Nothing more.”
Kaden’s voice boomed out, though I believed he was trying to keep it down. “How long do you believe you can hide her in a camp full of people?”
“For as long as I need to.”
“Falken, what are you going to do with her?”
“You let me worry about that.” I turned and began walking away.
“Falken, wait—damn it.”
Walking in a void devoid of the Ether, I carried her the distance to the forest’s southern border, with Kaden carefully shadowing us from behind. My arms burned by the time we stepped out into open ground, reminding me that I wasn’t as strong as I once was. I’d spent too much time buried in the affairs of running Caldera. Despite my aching arms, I could not hand her over to Kaden as she would incapacitate his Jotunn with her ability to ward away the Ether.
The midday sun cast its rays down through a break in the overcast sky.
Rolling, verdant land replete with hills and troughs greeted us.
Fast asleep, Fallon shifted in my arms.
I looked down at her, and thought I heard her whisper something…perhaps a name.
The sound of footfalls and creaking metal dragged my attention away from her.
A handful of Jotnar walked toward us, accompanied by a half-dozen riders on horseback galloping in our direction. The latter were members of a reconnaissance platoon, and I saw they had spare horses with them. To my relief, I saw that all the riders were men.
Women dominated the ranks of the Reconnaissance Division. Their ability to sense, feel, and weave the Ether over a great distance made them ideal scouts as they could detect the presence of an Etheric drive, or an individual hiding from pursuit. In essence, they were like hunting dogs that used the Ether, rather than their sense of smell. That said, if they were hunting another Empath Weaver, their quarry would also be able to use the Ether to her advantage.
For now, I swallowed quietly and counted my blessings. A woman scout amongst the men would have quickly noticed the girl was warding away the Ether. However, if the men kept their distance, then perhaps I could keep Fallon’s secret a little longer.
One rider dismounted, offering to take Fallon off my arms.
I hesitated for a moment. Any closer, and he was certain to feel the Ether avoiding the girl, yet I needed his help with her otherwise I wouldn’t be able to get her on the saddle.
“You’re name, soldier.”
“Captain Gunter Reagan, your Grace.”
“Gunter, your silence is valued.”
He didn’t understand until I neared him with Fallon in my arms. I saw his eyes widen, and then he quickly glanced at his men. Turning back to me, he offered me a subtle nod. “Wait here, your Grace.”
Gunter hurried off, and returned shortly with a spare horse already saddled.
Handing Fallon to him, I climbed onto the beast’s saddle, and then Gunter helped me get the unconscious girl seated ahead of me.
It was not the most comfortable of ways to ride on horseback.
The young captain looked up at me. “Your Grace, do wish for us to ride ahead?”
I nodded. “Go to my tent. Have a meal and bath prepared for her. Your co-operation is valued…and appreciated.”
“Yes, your Grace. I understand. I’ll see to it personally.”
I handed him my ring bearing my family’s crest. “Show them this if my attendants give you argument.”
He took the ring hesitantly. “Yes, your Grace.”
I smiled down at him. “Keep it safe for me until I get there.” I indicated Fallon by jutting my chin at her. “She wandered into the field of battle within the forest. It appears she has gone a distance without food. We’ll know more when she wakes up.”
He nodded faintly. “I understand, your Grace.”
Within minutes we departed for camp. I held onto Fallon with one arm while holding the reins in the other. Thankfully, the horse under me did not distrust me, and it wasn’t bothered by the lack of Ether. While animals could not manipulate the Ether, they could sense it and be influenced by emotions imprinted on the flows.
We rode on horseback at a walk, surrounded by the reconnaissance squad. I told the men not draw too close. She was a pretty thing but in sore need of a bath.
I heard muffled laughter and they gave the pair of us some extra room, but there was no mistaking the interest in their eyes, for unkempt as she was, Fallon was a very pretty girl.
All the while, Kaden followed in his Jotunn, and surrounding us at a distance of two hundred feet or more were another half dozen Jotnar.
Escorted in this manner, we arrived at the First Army’s camp a good hour after exiting Gaellen Forest.
The break in the cloud-ridden sky failed to hold.
By the time we sighted the tents, wagons, horses, men, and Jotnar of the First Army, the rain had resumed once again. It started as a drizzle, then grew to a steady downpour.
I rode through the camp to my tent, garnering attention at sight of the unconscious girl seated on the saddle with me. In the corner of my eye, I saw the men of the First Army mutter amongst themselves.
Gunter was waiting for me by the tent with my attendant, a young man by the name of Irvin, standing beside him. I lowered Fallon into the captain’s arms, then dismounted from the horse. Leaving the beast in the care of other soldiers, I followed Gunter into my tent with Irvin at my heels. Gunter laid Fallon down on the solitary narrow cot.
Irvin stared at her in confusion. “Your Grace…is she…I mean, she is—?”
“Yes, she’s a Khan Wilder,” I said to him. “For that matter, and others, I appreciate you keeping this close to your chest.”
He nodded hesitantly.
I frowned at him, and he nodded more vigorously. Holding onto my frown, I looked around the tent. “I believe I asked for a meal and bath to be prepared.”
Gunter bowed slightly, and directed his gaze at Irvin.
I looked at my attendant through narrowed eyes. “Well?”
The man cringed a little. “Ah, well, about that—”
I sighed and shook my head. “Irvin, you’re no good to me like this. Take a deep breath and calm down.”
He closed his eyes and mouth, and then took a couple of deep breaths.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
“Aye, your Grace.”
“Very well, then find some female attendants. She needs care—”
The tent flap opened hastily, cutting me off. Kaden stepped into the tent with a harried look on his face. He must have parked his Jotunn and then run over.
I really didn’t need him running around in haste. There was enough uncertainty and anxiety in the air, and Kaden was only making it worse.
I gave my brother an annoyed glare, then turned back to Irvin. “She needs care only women can provide.”
I thought he might be miffed, but instead the young man’s eyes widened noticeably in surprise.
However, he was quick to nod. “I—I think I understand, your Grace.”
“Only those you trust, Irvin,” I said to him.
He nodded again. “Yes. My cousin Silvia is here at camp. She’ll know what to do.”
I clapped his shoulder. “Go.”
A little more nervously than I’d hoped, Irvin left the confines of the tent in a hurry, and I turned to Gunter, for the moment ignoring the impatient look on Kaden’s face. “Captain, my ring.”
He held out his left palm. “Here, your Grace.”
“Take it with you. Go to the War Tent. Commander Ryland should be there. Tell him to assemble the senior staff then clear the tent of ancillary personnel. I’ll be heading over shortly. Again show him the ring if need be.”
The reconnaissance platoon leader hesitated, his attention divided between my brother and I.
“Captain,” I said. “Go.”
“Yes, your Grace.” He pressed his right arm to his chest, bowed quickly and departed like a wind spirit tearing through my tent.
Despite the circumstances, I was mildly amused as I watched him leave.
Kaden cut my mirth short. “What the Devil are you doing?”
“We have a problem, Kaden. A very big problem.”
He folded his arms. “Understating things a little?”
I walked over to a chair and sat down beside a small table. A pitcher of water and a couple of mugs rested upon a tray atop the table. I filled a mug with water and downed it within the span of several heartbeats. I refilled the mug, and sipped the water this time round.
Kaden stood before me. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“No, not yet. We’ll wait for Irvin to return. Then we’ll head over to the War Tent.”
As luck would have it, I didn’t have long to wait.
The young man pushed into the tent with a couple of young female attendants in tow. I had no doubt these girls were part of General Meyren Milerna’s entourage. The good general, bless her heart, refused to surround herself with male attendants. And she only brought along the prettiest girls she could rally up. Fortunately, the general had joined the First Army’s camp in recent days in order to be closer to the other senior staff. That said, the Fourth Army’s camp wasn’t that far away.
I shook my head inwardly as I recognized Irvin’s cousin, Silvia, but not the girl beside her. “Lady Silvia,” I greeted her.
The girl’s eyes widened and she grew bright red. “Your—your Grace. To call me ‘lady’—”
I waved her silent and pointed at the corner of my tent where the cot rested. “Lady Silvia, see to that girl. Your discretion is appreciated.” I touched my lips. “Not a word to anyone.”
Silvia and her companion stared at the unconscious Fallon, traded nervous looks, then regarded me with disappointment in their eyes.
Silvia spoke in a low tone. “Your Grace…did you…?”
I suddenly realized what they were thinking.
Again I waved my hands, feeling a little flustered. “She wandered into the field of battle. She’s not someone I brought along for amusement from the citadel. Besides, where would I hide her? In a trunk fit for clothing? Please, I’m not that kind of man.” I wagged a finger at her. “And have you not heard? I’m due to be married in two months. What would my fiancée think?”
Silvia paled and shook her head. “No, no. Your Grace, I wasn’t thinking that at all.”
I gave her a weary look. “Good. Now, please see to her. She’s in dire need of washing. Can you find her some clothes as well? Those rags won’t last long.”
The girl nodded quickly and started to walk over to Fallon.
Quite suddenly she stopped in mid-step.
Silvia turned her head quickly and faced me, her face pale.
As a woman, she was several fold more sensitive to the Ether than a man. She had felt the void surrounding Fallon while many meters away from the sleeping girl.
I nodded subtly to her. “Discretion is appreciated, Lady Silvia.”
She swallowed visibly, and gave me a furtive nod. “Aye, your Grace….”