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In Huck's Hands [A Grimdark Sci-Fi Fantasy Epic]
Bonus Content!!!!: I WILL SEE YOU TOMORROW.

Bonus Content!!!!: I WILL SEE YOU TOMORROW.

Aiko's muscles tried to keep up with the constant strain but her legs gave out far from the top of the sparkling orange dune her father had stranded her on. The midday heat baked her freckled complexion with a vexing testament to why the human body should not be deprived of water and sleep. General Ewabatta would not be pleased when he circled his way back to find his only living daughter slumped in a heap of utter exhaustion, tawny sand particles flowed in and out from her shallow breaths.

"Get the fuck up, GET UP NOW!" She had passed out far too long and truly enraged her typically neglectful father to the point that he had trekked his way up the dune to her location. "Do you hear me you stupid hyena? GET UP!" Aiko felt her dry cracked lips tremble as the vitriol damaged her morale more than the sustained over-warmth of the Buriti desert. Her immaculate grades, stoic manners, and natural athletic qualifications meant little to none in the eyepatched man's mono-glare.

"I-Im dehydrated, Dad..." Aiko tried her indisputable best to obliterate the ragged sob that was building in her weighted chest, the small sandbags added to her clothing stole any degree of stamina that she would have had to pull herself to her bruised legs. Her withered eyes found her father's, anxious fury stared back at the young woman with merciless abandon of paternal instinct. "If you don't FUCKING....STAND UP--I will leave you out here all night."

Aiko knew what would happen to her if she was left alone this close to the capital's barrens, if the terror birds did not already have her scent, the snorting hyenas would be closer than ever due to the Migration of Beasts; A yearly phenomenon that was marked by when the creatures of Buriti Vasca made their way across the length of the nation, an abundant yet precarious duration to be ousted to the wilds of the sands. "Can I t-take the weights--"

Before she could speak the General kicked the loose particulate keeping her near the middle of the middling-sized red dune. Aiko tumbled fitfully as the many sandbags slammed her body while increasing her rotational momentum down the small incline.

After coughing up chunks of swallowed dirt and sand for a moment she heard the crunch of her father's large boots slam next to her motionless form. "You leave for boarding school in a few weeks...Do you want to be soft like the king's sniveling little brats?"

The fond memories of running through the palace with her mother and sister broke through the torrent of self-hatred that shrouded her senses, Huck and Kash were the only individuals who attempted to even speak their names since they were brutally slaughtered by Aygu years ago.

Tuffs of her large curls hid her face from General Ewabatta as he turned to stare directly into the beaming sun, his body not taking the time to even flinch in its 110-degree blanket. "I cannot afford for you to--" A second pair of footsteps compelled her father to cut himself off, he raised his handgun with the fluidity of a seasoned dueler.

"Easy, General--You would not want the blood of the king's favorite nephew on your hands would you?" Aiko recognized the cracking adolescent voice but still did not move. Kyler made a showy bow before whistling a sarcastic tune at the scene before him.

"You genuinely are a strong and...militant man Ewabatta, but I do not think your daughter will survive another Dune-keel." The General grimaced at the same time as placing his firearm back in its place along his belt line, the corners of his brown eyes tightening to fox-like slits.

"Why are you sniffing around my daughter Vasca? She's not a Doigan love-maiden, if you wanna take her off my hands you'll have to actually prove you have become a man of worth." Kyler upon hearing his snide comment adjusted his mauve robes with a cool look of nonchalance, though he seethed on the interior.

"I am not 'sniffing' around anything, my uncle has requested your presence and I had followed you...and I am pleased I did." He flicked a single finger in the direction of the man's now rising daughter. Aiko's tears had given way to unadulterated wrath at how the two of them spoke about her as if she was not there--As if she was nothing more than an article of clothing.

Her feet resumed the same trudge up the dune that ended with her bleeding and covered in hot sand. "Good, now when you finish--Find your way home." General Ewabatta pivoted at a perfect 90-degree angle, his tone allowing no backtalk. Kyler watched as the two mirrored the same cadence of the weighted gait of perseverance, an exhibit of the strength and loyalty her family had displayed since being placed under the care of the Vascan elites who conspired to take the land from the Svet slavers beforehand.

The sun beat down on his crimson dreadlocks, small drips of his beeswax began to form on the ridge of his brow. "You can stop, he's gone now." Kyler released his chest from the puffed state he had put it in for the confrontation with the WarHawk. Aiko paid no attention to his statement as she continued her pace up the steep incline at the base of the dune. "I said, he is gone, you can stop now..."

Kyler watched Aiko continue her arduous ascent up the dune, he felt a growing sense of frustration and concern welling up from within. He couldn't understand why she was pushing herself so hard, especially in her current state of fatigue. With a heavy sigh, he decided to intervene once more, determined to convince her to stop before she caused herself further harm.

"Aiko, please, this is foolish--And we could spend the time before school starts--" Kyler called out, his voice filled with genuine worry. "I won't be able to see you anymore." Aiko paid him no heed, her focus solely on reaching the summit of the dune without the encumbrance of her least favorite Vascan youngling.

Kyler quickened his pace, closing the distance between them as he reached out to grasp her arm with enough force to jolt them both. "Aiko, listen to me," he urged, his tone pleading. "You're pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest regardless." Aiko's reaction was brisk and unanticipated. With a sudden burst of reserved strength, she wrenched her arm free from Kyler's grasp and rounded on him, her brown eyes gleaming with fury.

"Don't touch me, ever..." She spat, her voice laced with malice. His infatuation with her had gone on nearly as long as he had been sent over from the Old World, his 6'5" frame an ever-encroaching nip at her rookie officer bootstrap. It only took 2 summers for the boy to break his neck at the mere mention of her short name. "Why do you not go find something to occupy yourself with? I do not have the time nor the patience to carry on a fruitless conversation."

A smooth black pebble skittered just at the perfect curve to slap Kyler's shin bone to the point of his release of a scream more akin to that of a banshee. Aiko took the time to bring herself back to her training for base camp, the assault came as no surprise due to her seeing the mischievous King's oldest child Huckleberry Vasca. "Hey, fuck-face--You left like I wasn't talking to you!"

The smiling menace plucked another presmoothend piece of onyx from his pocket, the ammunition was actually meant to be part of a set of precious gems the Vascans held sacred for their monarchs to always have by their side. Aiko had herself many times been on the receiving end of a small stone ornately carved with the images of their foreign god Dhira. "Cousin, you miserable little--" Another loose stone struck Kyler's swiveling head with a loud thunk.

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Aiko couldn't help but let out a small embattled chuckle that used up the precious oxygen she needed to complete her task. Even with all the prince's many depraved mental infirmities and ignorant ramblings, they shared a twisted sense of humor that made him palatable for short stints. "Oh shit...I think he's fucking dead." Huck let out a limb-splitting laugh that sent small reverberations over the now-hushed dune, Kyler was in fact not dead.

Basing his reason that his younger cousin was a malicious and untamed beast of the fields, Kyler found his large frame sulking in misery while pretending to be unconscious. "He will be fine, can you two please leave me alone?" Aiko's pressured voice pushed past the calling chortles with cutting annoyance. "I didn't come here for you--Ass hat here owes me for keeping Dennis occupied all winter, If I have to hear one more artsy musical about godamn orchids..." The prince shook his dreadlocked head dramatically. "What the hell is a Orchid anyways?!"

"AN...an orchid is a variety of flora." Aiko had finally made her way to the apex after Huck stood watch on her silent march. The air currents were nourishing to her drenched and weary body, though her father was quite possibly miles away at this point she would truly be able to look the man in the eye over dinner that night. "Ooo, this is very nice, I like...I TAKE!" Huck picked at the golden chains that rustled with his cousin's faux unconscious state.

To the large adolescent's horror, he was yanked inches from the prince's blank face; Being picked at like a wandered carcass by the large Buriti buzzards. "Unhand me Huckle, I am not your servant or a piggy bank!" He tried to bat away his wild-eyed relative with untrained swats of his open hand, only to be met with a blitzing headbutt that sent him reeling in more waves of pain.

As the Vascan brat brigade exchanged imbalanced potshots near the bottom of the crawling dune Aiko took the time to reach into the heavy pouches that housed the small bags of soil. Her body was drained of the bulk of her stamina but her mind was not fully clear as she took in the long stretch of white and orange sands that made up her beloved nation of Buriti Vasca, the bags fell with relieving repeated thuds.

From the muddy borders of southern Nak that crested the inescapable jungles of their pacifist neighbor nation of Doiga to the frozen wastes of the upper Basklands that made their way seamlessly into the rolling ice fields of Svetlan; Aiko loved everything about her homeland...Everything but her life and all the trappings of being the head general of the Vascan military's daughter.

She never saw anything more than the most spoiled and decadent side of life while experiencing the horrors of forced desensitivity training. Countless watched black site tortures and executions passed through her synapses anytime she stepped a toe back to the ebony-tiled floors of her palace home.

Her constricted throat was not due to any exhaustion or constant inhalation of the surrounding sands, but it was a psychosomatic representation of what her life had become since her sister and mother were taken from her. It was this tension that propelled her, driving her to be everything her fallen younger sister could not be...To shine and strike for change against the backward men of her culture.

Her euphoric yet solemn reminiscence was cut short by the sounds of strangulated breaths arriving from the two slightly older boys down below. Huck found himself still the aggressor as his fingers dug into the discolored neck of Kyler. "Take it back--NOW!" One mention of his beloved aunt Bala compelled the normally half-ruthless bullying malformed into a manic expression of grief that threatened to coerce the immature prince to perpetrate parricide

"Now he may be dead..." The popped crimson eyes of Kyler fluttered closed, he drifted with much struggle into the abyss of respite. Huck stumbled back from his cousin with a deep frown now embedded in his jawline, completely unaware of the charging Aiko behind his rage-twitching shoulders.

As Aiko blitzed towards the altercation, her feet deftly maneuvered across the shifting declined sands, her body poised and ready for combat. The years of rigorous training in 4 extensive native fighting styles had honed her movements into a precise and lethal art form that rarely saw the light of day.

Among these disciplines, her lineage's clandestine martial art, SandHand, stood as her most formidable javelin of action, a technique that utilized predominantly looped ariel kicks and glancing arm maneuvers that picked up the lack of defensive movements.

Huckleberry in all his dismay, still consumed by his stupor of grief-fueled rage, remained oblivious to Aiko's speeding approach. His fingers remained locked around Kyler's severed golden chain he had pilfered from the boy.

Huck's fighting style, while informal, was no less barbarous in intent-– an outlandish amalgamation of elbow strikes, headbutts, and dirty tricks, forged through countless skirmishes and brawls with no other than Aiko herself; She had been the only one who was brazen enough to lay hand on the over-spoiled light brown skin psychopath.

With a sudden burst of momentum, Aiko closed the waning distance, her foot lashing out in a blisteringly precise sidekick aimed at Huckleberry's ribcage. The blow connected with a resounding thump of her black boot, forcing Huck to release his increasing grip on Kyler who slumped to the ground, tearfully gasping for air.

Huckleberry spun around quickly, his red eyes wide with stupefaction, only to be met with a flurry of strikes from Aiko's arcing leg movements. She moved with the grace of a familiarized dancer, her kicks and blocks flowing seamlessly, a deadly symphony of exactitude and control of her muscles.

Huck, undeterred by the initial onslaught, responded with his characteristic ferocity. He lunged forward, his elbow leading the way, aiming for Aiko's face. She deftly parried the strike with a defensive arm movement, the force of the blow reverberating through her bones.

The two young fighters engaged in a steely exchange, their bodies moving in a whirlwind of strikes and counters that favored the aggressive female. Aiko's SandHand techniques allowed her to deflect and evade Huck's wild attacks, while her rigorously aimed kicks kept him at bay.

Huckleberry, fueled by his untamed anger, refused to back down to her beatdown. He charged forward stupidly, lowering his head like a raging bull, aiming to headbutt Aiko's midsection. With lightning reflexes, she pivoted, her leg sweeping out in a low kick that caught Huck's ankles, sending him crashing to the ground near her still-placed right foot.

Seizing the opportunity, Aiko pounced, her knees pinning Huck's arms to the sand. She rained down a volley of controlled strikes onto the prince's chest and stomach, each one carefully aimed to incapacitate rather than cause permanent damage to the boy her father comically dubbed 'Dummy-Bung-Hole'.

Huckleberry thrashed and bucked his pinned shoulders, his desperation fueling his antagonism. He managed to break one arm free, his elbow lashing out and catching Aiko square in her slim freckled jaw. She recoiled, momentarily astonished at receiving an actual strike, allowing Huck to roll away and regain his footing with a sandy huff.

The two circled each other another time, their chests heaving, sweat glistening on their brown skin. Aiko's lip was split, a trickle of hot blood trailing down her chin, while Huck sported a rapidly welted eye and a multitude of bruising that was hidden beneath his extremely dirty grey gentlemen's blouse.

With a feral vociferation, Huckleberry charged once more, his movements erratic and unpredictable. Aiko braced herself, her body coiled like a spring, ready to counter his onslaught.

The exchange that followed was a whirlwind of limbs and strikes, each combatant giving their all in an effort to gain the upper hand. Aiko's precision and technique clashed against Huck's ferocity, creating a mesmerizing dance of brutality and dexterity for the desert's many critter denizens.

Finally, after what seemed like an epoch, Aiko saw her opening. As Huck launched a feverish right-handed haymaker, she slipped inside his guard, her foot lashing out in a devastating crescent kick to his midsection. The air rushed from Huck's lungs, and he doubled over, leaving himself vulnerable once again.

Aiko's fists and feet rained down upon Huck's unprotected body. He staggered, his defenses crumbling under the relentless onslaught, until finally, he collapsed to the ground, dazed and beaten to a pristine pulp. Aiko stood over her fallen contender, her chest rising and falling steadily, her body battered but victorious.

Kyler, having regained his poise, watched the scene unfold with a mixture of awe and trepidation of the girl he lusted over so greatly. Suddenly, the tension in the air dissipated as Huckleberry let out a boisterous giggle, the sound echoing across the dunes much like before.

Aiko couldn't help but join in, her laughter mingling with his in a cacophony of mirth. "What in Dhira's fire is so damn funny?!" Kyler gently wrapped his hands across the abused neck parts he sustained from his cousin.

As their laughter subsided, Huck pushed himself into a relaxed seated position, his grin broad and sincere through his swelled eye. "You really fucked me up good, huh?" he chuckled, wincing as he prodded his bruised ribs with his boney fingers. Aiko extended a hand, helping Huck to his feet.

"You fought well, even if your technique leaves...MUCH to be desired," she retorted, a playful glint in her eye. Kyler, still recovering from the earlier quarrel, regarded the two with a mix of bafflement and vexation. "Are you two quite finished?" he asked, his tone exasperated but tinged with the fleck of his bruised voicebox. Huck slung an arm around Aiko's shoulders, his sweeping grin inexhaustible.

"If you taught me whatever those fancy kicks were, you'd be eating sandskimmers right now!" He motioned with a choking gesture toward the many awakened vermin that waddled their way away from the fight's loud vibrations; Normally nocturnal but having been disturbed to the point of escape, their small golden bodies screeching with the contact of surface heat.

Aiko rolled her eyes, but a joy tugged at the corners of her mouth. "You'll have to wait for me to come back from boarding school." The rapture quickly faded from her face as she realized that Huck would not be joining her and Kash on their long journey to the northern border. Svetlan would be a much colder place without the constant bother of his scheming and talk of decadence.