Now, Earth
Cal watched his mom watching Rynnen and a bunch of neighborhood kids playing in their backyard.
“Mom, I got question.”
“Yes, son?
“You’re like 66, right?”
“68 in a few months.”
“Right, I knew that,” Cal added hastily. He thought about it. His mom was correct. Since he was 46 going on 47, assuming there weren’t any time shenanigans involved due to his stay on the Threnosh world. He thought about it some more and realized that his physical appearance hadn’t changed at all since the spires appeared. His mental powers meant that he could review his memories as if they had just happened the day before. In the span of a few seconds he went through years of memories of him looking at mirror. Like one of those time lapse videos, except he didn’t change a bit aside from the continuous cycle of facial hair growth and shaving. “Well… damn,” he muttered.
“What’s wrong?” his mom looked at him with concern.
He regarded her face. Mostly smooth complexion, not a lot of wrinkles or laugh lines, hair as black and thick as he remembered. In fact— He glanced through the living room window at the framed pictures on the walls.
“You look like fifteen years younger. Late forties, early fifties.”
“I have noticed. It happened slowly after I gained my powers. It was like I was aging in reverse for a while. It seems to have slowed down though if not stopped outright. Nice while it lasted. What about you? You look like you haven’t aged either.”
“I’ve just realized that…” Cal muttered. “And Dad’s huge… all yoked out!”
“Is that one of those gaming terms? I think I’ve heard Rayna and her rangers say that before?”
“Rangers?”
“It’s Rayna’s thing, you should ask her. About your father?”
“Oh, yeah… well he’s more muscular than I remember, like he never used to work out. Now he’s much bigger than me.”
“Well, he’s been lifting weights like you do. He spends half his free time at the train station or the port. Those are the only places he can lift and push things heavy enough for gains, as they say.”
Cal laughed. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Damn…” his dad was way stronger than him if he was lifting trains and ships? Granted he could probably augment his physical strength with his telekinesis to surpass his dad. Cal shook his head. “Not a competition,” he muttered with a shake of his head.
His mom chuckled.
“Your father is pretty strong, but he’s not even close to Eron.”
Cal’s eyes widened. Then he shook his head in disgust. “I’ve missed a lot. It feels like—”
“You’ve been gone for five years on another world, maybe in another dimension or universe.”
Cal raised a brow.
“What? I’ve been doing a lot of reading and I occasionally sit in on lectures at the community college.”
“Lectures?”
“A few people have done research into the nature of the spires. So far it’s just a lot of theory and conjecture. You could probably teach them a lot just by speaking to them about your experiences. As far as anyone knows, you’re the only that that’s actually set foot in another world.”
“Let’s not tell them that just yet, please?” Cal pleaded.
“Okay, I promise I won’t say a word.”
“Thank you.”
“I can’t speak for your sister.”
“Why you got to always ruin it, Mom?” Cal rolled his eyes.
Cal suddenly picked up thoughts focused on their home, on their mother specifically. The person was several miles away and judging by their speed they were in a car. He relaxed when it became clear that the unknown person didn’t mean any harm. On the contrary the young man was focused on protection.
It was too hard to keep his mind free from other people’s surface thoughts. Despite his best efforts at maintaining his telepathic walls it felt like he was sitting in the middle of a theater surrounded by people yapping away in hundreds of different conversations as they waited for the show to start.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, Mom, just a bit distracted,” Cal said.
Sure enough, five minutes later the young man came around the corner of the house.
Cal took his measure in a split-second.
Tall, lean, strong, mid-20’s. Armed with an assault rifle, a machete and a hatchet at his belt, armored with modified police riot gear, body armor, helmet and a shield covered with an extra layer of thin metal.
“Rodrigo, didn’t Rayna tell you that you didn’t have to come today.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Cruces, she did, but I didn’t feel comfortable leaving you and the children without a bodyguard.”
Cal’s mom sighed. “I think I’m more than capable of protecting everyone here.”
“Yes, ma’am. Your forcefields are impenetrable, but you need someone to eliminate the threat while you defend,” Rodrigo said.
“Ay, stubborn kids these days,” Cal’s mom shook her head. “Rodrigo, this is my oldest son, Cal.”
Rodrigo sized Cal up. “Everyone’s been talking about you all week.”
Cal rose from his chair and took Rodrigo’s proffered hand.
The much bigger young man squeezed hard.
Cal squeezed back until Rodrigo grimaced. He smiled to take the sting out of it.
“Stronger than Rayna,” Rodrigo said as he shook his hand out.
“Ha! Make sure you let her know.”
“Sorry, sir, but I’d like to avoid being one giant bruise,” Rodrigo grinned.
“As you can see with Cal here I think we’re in good hands,” Cal’s mom said.
Cal shrugged. “I don’t mind. You can never have too many good fighters around.”
“Fine, fine, well at least you can relax a bit, Rodrigo. I’ve got some leftover grilled meat and veggies in a tupperware you can take home to your husband later.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Cruces! I’m getting tired of eating canned food.”
“You don’t have access to fresh food? I thought everyone did,” Cal frowned.
“Oh we do. It’s just that neither me nor my husband can cook worth a damn. We burn spam,” Rodrigo grinned sheepishly.
“Come with me Rodrigo. I’ll teach you how to make garlic and spam fried rice,” Cal’s mom said as she abruptly stood up. “Cal will watch the children.”
“Ma’am, thank you, but I’m on duty,” Rodrigo protested.
“Sorry, bro, but you’re going to learn to cook today,” Cal said.
----------------------------------------
Fingers contorted in painfully looking ways as the young man weaved his hands in front of him.
A small opening appeared directly in line with his chest.
There was nothing visible through the rent in space, just a void, darker than black.
A bolt of dark flame, colors inverted from a natural fire, struck out of the void and disintegrated the massively bloated shambling corpse as it rounded the building’s corner.
Silence.
He had not uttered a single word in wielding his magic.
Rayna watched intently from her vantage high above the street.
A huge walking corpse turned to ash in seconds.
Their newest recruit’s magic was powerful.
That fatty was the last of them, over.
The voice crackled over the handheld radio at Rayna’s belt.
All clear in our sector as well, over.
Same here, over.
“It looks clear from up here,” Rayna said into the radio.
Copy that, sir. We’ll burn the remains and head back unless you have other orders, over.
Rayna’s eyes tightened. “How many times do I have to tell them to stop calling me that. I’m barely over 30,” she muttered. “No. Finish the clean up, head home. Be careful. And how many times have I told you to stop calling me that?”
Understood… sir, over and out.
Rayna heard the snickering even from her vantage point a few hundred feet above street level.
“I’m too nice,” she sighed. She consoled herself with the thought that at least it was better then being called ma’am.
The flight back to her rangers’ main base took minutes.
Rayna’s Rangers.
Another thing they had thought up without consulting her. They then proceeded to ignore her subsequent protests over the years. She realized that she had been pretty quiet about it in the last couple of years. Perhaps it was time to turn up the volume and frequency on that front.
The base was located within the community college just a few blocks from her parent’s house.
It was a hive of activity.
Just like the old days. At least for those that remembered what it was like before the spires had appeared.
Although upon closer inspection, weapons training and spell practice didn’t fit among the expected scenes at a normal college campus.
Rayna flew in and out of the place on a regular basis. Only the newest recruits looked up from what they were doing to gawk in amazement. Though their trainers made them rue being easily distracted.
Rayna was like a celebrity and war hero rolled into one for the people under her protection.
A reality that she was painfully aware of and did her best to ignore.
She was accosted as soon as she stepped foot into the command center, which used to be the college’s main administration building.
“Rayna… uh…”
“What is it, Chris?”
The slim young man looked worried. Rayna could tell by the way his glasses were askew a fraction of an inch.
“The Ranger Captain’s—”
“Again,” Rayna sighed.
“I tried to tell her, but she moved me out of the way. As in she literally picked me up and moved me to one side. Can you please tell her that I deserve some dignity at least in public.”
“Don’t take it personally. She doesn’t care for other people’s dignity in equal measures. She in the planning room?”
“Where else would she be?” Chris said with a pout.
“Cheer up, my Mom’s probably going to send Rodrigo home with some good food for dinner.”
Chris smile took up his entire face. “I know! We’ve been eating great the last month. Rodrigo’s been making fried rice every few days. Tell your mom, I really appreciate it!”
“She’s already cycled through Cal’s favorites twice. You think she’d run out of steam, but no… wished she cooked like this before Cal showed up,” Rayna grumbled. “I’d probably spend more time at home if she did.”
“C’mon, Rayna. We both know that isn’t true.”
“Yeah, too many fires to put out.”
They continued to converse over lighter topics as they walked through hallways and up stairs.
“Want me to come with?” Chris said as they approached the converted conference room.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Nah. I’m sure you’re busy,” Rayna said.
“I won’t mind if I can watch you yell at Kayl?” Chris said hopefully.
“Tempting, but I can’t yell at a pregnant woman, seems like it’d be bad for the baby,” Rayna said.
“Next time then,” Chris said as he turned and walked down the hallway.
Rayna pushed the door open and saw the tall woman, heavily pregnant, standing over the large map spread out on the center table.
“We need to act soon.”
“What are you even doing here, again? I thought the doctor said you need to stay off your feet. You look like you’ve got a beach ball under there. Not to mention the election is in five days.”
“I’ve still got a few weeks till my precious pops out and I’m not wasting it laying in bed. As for the election, I’ve already done most of the campaigning and we both know that a majority of the people have already made up their minds, not that the results matter that much to me. Plus, I’m skipping the last debate, on account of…” Kayl pointed at her stomach. “Pryce and Graeme can’t say shit about it.
“Actually, Pryce will probably use it to say you’re weak and unfit to be in charge. Graeme’s fairly decent, so he won’t say anything, but he won’t defend you either,” Rayna said.
“Whatever,” Kayl shrugged.
“Fine, but if your here for the same reasons you were yesterday than you’re wasting your time, Kayl.”
“We need to move, now. We can’t just let them keep doing that to those people.”
Rayna scowled, she agreed in part. “For the sake of argument… all of those shitty wannabe warlords run brothels in their territories and we haven’t gone after those.”
“Those are on my list,” Kayl’s eyes narrowed, sharp, flinty. “This is different because we have inside information that confirms people are being enslaved and dark magic is being performed. The people running this are somehow gaining strength directly from the suffering of their victims.
“If we can believe Finley’s story.”
“The kid’s passed every lie detector test we’ve put him through. Mundane and magical. We’ve made him relive his nightmarish time in that place over and over again. He hasn’t complained once. How’d he do today, by the way?”
“Great actually. His spells are strong and he can cast them without verbalizing, though the way the space in front of him just opens up into nothing creeps me out,” Rayna said.
“Our little Ghost Sorcerer is becoming a great asset. I want to crush those bastards and free their enslaved partially for him,” Kayl said.
“Jeez, why’d you call him that?” Rayna rolled her eyes.
“He’s really pale and his spells have that dark, infernal feel to them,” Kayl smiled. “Seems fitting.”
Rayna shook her head. “A bit on the nose, don’t you think?”
“It’s a term of endearment. Everyone gets a tag once they pass the recruit phase. Good for morale and team building. He’s one of us… which is why I intend to keep my promise to him.”
“Which we can’t do unless I personally come along, which then might embolden the other warlords to attack our territory in my absence.” Rayna raised a hand to forestall Kayl’s words. “My dad can handle them, but he can’t be in two places at the same time if monsters attack out of the wilderness parks. My mom can defend, but she can’t really attack and I’m not putting her in front of a bunch of hardened killers.”
“Your brother—”
“Is on vacation.” Rayna realized how lame it sounded as soon as the words left her mouth.
“He’s been here for close to a month,” Kayl threw up her hands. “You said he’s powerful. We can use his help. Instead he spends his time flying around and playing superheroes with kids at parks and playgrounds.” She ran a hand over her bulging belly. “Your brother came back from an advanced alien world and only brought you back one suit of armor… one.
Rayna bristled. “He’s helped out with some monster attacks.” She wasn’t going to break Cal’s confidence. “And a few awesome onesies,” she muttered. She was wearing one underneath her clothes and makeshift armor. It was indeed as great as Cal had claimed.
“Well, these people are worse than monsters. Try telling him that. If that’s not enough to get his help then maybe he’s not as great as you say he is,” Kayl snapped.
“Don’t—” Rayna’s voice went flat. “—talk about my brother that way. You have no idea what he’s done and been through.”
Kayl shrugged. “Is it worse then what Fin went through? What dozens of young men, women, girls and boys are suffering as we speak?”
“Probably similar in terms of horror, but not exactly the same specifics of it.” Rayna knew that Cal wouldn’t, couldn’t countenance it if he knew, but her brother had made an effort to close himself off from the wider world for time to heal.
Was a month long enough?
Only Cal knew.
She decided that it was up to him to decide.
“If we can bring him and his girlfriend in then we can crush the bastards, secure the safety of the HVT’s and defend against potential attacks on our people while the bulk of the rangers are on the Quest,” Kayl said.
Rayna blinked. “You have a Quest for this?”
“Had one as soon as we got confirmation that Fin’s story was legit. You’d probably get it too if you genuinely bought in.”
“I’ll talk to my brother, but I’m only going to lay things out. I’m not going to ask for his help or try to pressure him in any way,” Rayna said reluctantly as she looked down at the map. “How are we going to safely rescue a couple of hundred people from an entire block of mansions?”
“We can’t. Not with our numbers and levels. You have to accept that there will be losses. You can’t keep them all safe. That’s part of the reason why our levels are so low. Ten years and we don’t have anyone over 20. Our average is in the low to mid teens.”
“That hasn’t been confirmed,” Rayna protested.
“No one can blame you for wanting to protect us, but the spires said that strength would be gained through conflict and struggle. You made it easy for us. Holding the monsters down while we shot them from a distance or cut them up, safely. The research nerds all agree. We can’t gain more unless we struggle in real danger,” Kayl said.
“Maybe…” Rayna said. “Any changes to the tentative plan?” she not so deftly changed the subject.
Kayl waddled over to Rayna’s side of the map and started outlining her latest refinements to the plan.
----------------------------------------
Monsters in the dark.
Gnashing teeth.
Cutting claws.
Mother and Father screaming.
Running, running, running.
Others, also hurt, hunted, haunted.
Fire is safety. The light keeps the monsters back.
Hear them, smell them in the darkness. Scrabbling claws on the concrete, teeth snapping.
Time and hunger intertwine inexorably.
The group moves from store to store, dwindling from day to day. Lives sold cheaply for meager mouthfuls in their desperation.
Days became weeks became months.
Life not a life.
Mother and Father, their faces turned blank in his memories. Fear vanishes. He cares nothing of the monsters. He sees freedom in their claws. Only the gnawing hunger in his stomach remains real.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Men come and replace the monsters.
Pain. The boy couldn’t have imagined the pain at the men’s hands. The shame.
Time becomes nothing.
There is only pain.
A change.
An exchange.
The boy belongs to other men now.
Hope.
Hunger replaced.
Food, water, cleansing.
A soft bed.
Light to keep the monster away. All of them.
Weeks of healing.
Slowly, he begins to recall this thing called life.
A spark in his eyes.
Mother, Father.
He remembers!
Tears.
Smiling faces, encouraging.
Life returns.
Trust—
Shattered.
Lie. Lie. Lies!
Men again.
Each touch staining his soul. Breaking the brittle remains so recently reassembled.
A haze.
From the drinks, pills, needles.
Dull.
Thoughts in a fog.
A soft bed.
Rough hands. Heavy weight.
Over and over again.
Time becomes eternal.
Separate moments blend into one.
Hope?
There is none.
Until…
A brief spark.
Clarity.
Images flash through the young man’s shattered mind.
Winding streets through the hills.
A narrow lake and the glowing object hidden in its depths.
Finley came to consciousness with a fat man on his back. The sour smell of alcohol puffed into his face with the man’s snores. He felt a surge of strength in his stick-thin arms as he pushed up and rolled the man off him.
The man clutched and grasped in his sleep, but didn’t wake.
Finley felt a swell of revulsion rise.
The haze of the drugs was gone. His thoughts were clearer than they had been for years. Memories rushed back. All that the others had forced him to suffer.
Almost too much to face if not for the singular thought that forced the rest down.
Revenge.
He didn’t question the sudden clarity and strength.
The object in the lake.
It wasn’t far.
He saw the path in his thoughts.
Pulsing with light and sound, urging him to come and claim power.
Revenge.
Finley looked around the bedroom, his prison.
No clothes.
What did he need them for in this slavery?
The thought brought on another wave of disgust.
A weapon?
He searched for a weapon.
Nothing.
The owners were smart.
They allowed nothing that may harm the slaves and the clients.
Finley sneered.
What did clothes matter? His dignity was a tattered thing. Ground into dust over the years.
He eyed the sleeping man. He imagined falling upon the filth in animal fury and tearing into his fat flesh with fingers and teeth.
Finley’s clenched his fists hard enough to draw blood from his palms.
No, no, no. I will make them bleed. From now on, I will take their flesh, as they have mine, Finley thought.
He padded to the window. The soft carpet underneath his bare feet felt as unpleasant as a rough, rocky beach.
The window was open to allow the cool night breeze to keep the room free from the muskiness of sweat and other odors.
Finley’s lip curled in disgust.
Never again.
He climbed down from the second floor window quickly with the surprising strength in his thin, limbs.
Freedom. For the first time since his world was destroyed in one nightmarish night so many years ago.
The cold asphalt felt as soft and welcoming as that carpet should’ve been.
Finley ran into the dark night.
He cared nothing for the monsters and they left him alone for they sensed the power working through him.
The object within the lake was a beacon in his mind.
Mansions all along the winding street that carved through the hills.
Sounds.
Music and laughter.
Lies.
The screaming from those like him were the hidden truths to this evil place.
Make them pay.
Pursuit came too late.
Finley stood at the small, narrow lake’s shore.
It wasn’t truly a lake. Even in the darkness he could see the signs that suggested it was man-made. Although the grass and shrubbery were overgrown with neglect.
Finley’s bare feet had been cut up by the asphalt and sliding down the rocky embankment down to the murky water’s edge.
He felt the sting of pain, but welcomed it. This was of his own making. His and his alone.
Dogs barked. Beams of light cut through the darkness, sweeping back and forth.
Finley waded into the water then plunged in.
The object shined brightly only to his eyes.
Lungs ached, close to bursting as Finley frantically kicked his legs and swung his arms.
He didn’t know how to swim.
Blackness of a different kind than the darkness of the lake’s depths closed on the edges of his vision.
One finger tip brushed the object.
A flash of light.
Pain in his chest.
Oh what exquisite pain.
Finley embraced it with all his heart.
Savior, hero, herald. Will you be all these things?
A voice in Finley’s head. His own, yet not.
Your world is doomed to the suffering that you have undergone.
Will you stop it?
Will you light the way for those that would lift your kind?
Finley’s head burst out of the water’s surface.
“Yes!” he sputtered. “Yes!”
Then make this power yours.
Hot pain burned in Finley’s chest.
He looked down.
The object was lodged inside his chest. Somehow he could see it through now translucent skin and muscle as it slowly enveloped his heart.
Soon he could see nothing of his heart. Just the object in the shape of the organ, shining bright, golden.
Finley threw his head back and howled in pain.
Information burned into his thoughts.
The same voice, his voice, yet not.
Fast.
Instructions.
Thousands of words in an instant.
He remembered it all.
Barking dogs and shouting men.
Lights shined in Finley’s eyes.
He looked up.
He was floating on his back near the shore.
Splashing.
Rough hands dragged him back.
“You little bitch!” a woman spat. “I’d make you pay right here for making us chase you down, but the boss doesn’t want his precious merchandise damaged.”
“Hey, what the fuck’s going on with his chest?” a man’s voice.
“Get a light on it… almost looks see-through,” another man said.
Finley knew what to do.
The instructions shouted in his head.
He brought his hands over his chest. Thin fingers contorted.
A sound like ripping paper, distorted.
The women and men shouted in alarm.
Power flared.
Then silence.
More. You need more strength to open the way.
“Yes,” Finley whispered as he lay in the shallow water.
The stench of death filled the air.
Nothing smelled sweeter in the moment.
The water was cold.
Finley didn’t notice.
Thoughts turned to the mansion and the owners.
Revenge.
Not yet. You are not strong enough. Perhaps with allies?
Images flashed through Finley’s mind.
South.
Further south.
Aid and comfort.
Revenge.
“Soon,” Finley agreed.