The winter night was cold, a north wind bringing snow and ice in dark, billowing clouds that blotted out the stars and even the moon itself. The sky should have been formless and void. And, across most of the heavens, it was. But trails of fire blazed faintly across the darkened skies, barely perceptible from the ground far below. Falling stars with few to witness them, and yet fewer who understood their meaning. They were the sparks of change that would set the world alight.
The sparks were our fire: the fire of engines roaring, planes gliding above the snowy hellscape of the Corruption. On our descent, its features came into harsh relief beneath us: a twisted plague of metal, a scar upon this face of our world, colder and harsher than even the very snow and ice that cloaked it, ever growing, ever evolving, ever threatening to devour us all. Time and time again this perversion of life had encroached upon our homeland. Time and time again, we’d pushed it back with fire. We’d chased it away with light. But it had always returned, stronger, fiercer, angrier, washing away our homes and cities beneath a tide of blades and scales until our fire rose to banish it once more.
Indeed, it was our fire: the fire of our Patron, Polaris, manifest in us to burn away every trace of evil and sanctify our homeland. A burning lance to pierce the heart of the darkness and put an end to it once and for all. For now we knew the secrets of the Corruption’s deepest place, where our stolen light had become an abomination and birthed this blight upon the world. Soon, that which was taken would be returned to us and all would be made right again.
And the first step to that redemption was flame. The first offensive: to strike the very depths of the Corruption. The first battle: to pry what was rightfully ours from its steely grip. To let this wicked metal veneer flake off and shatter and burn to ashes. To make the world beautiful and peaceful once again.
It was quite the task, but we were up for it—no, we were made for it. We were fearless, perfect, the best and brightest of our generation, handpicked by our Patron to be her light and might and fury, chosen to lead her people in this crusade against the forces of darkness threatening to snuff us out. Though others quivered in fear, knowing the dangers that lurked within the thorny landscape below, I was quivering only in anticipation. Excitement. After all, who wouldn’t be excited to stand at the end of an era, and the start of something new?
My eyes wandered across the airship’s steel interior. They came to a rest, as always, on Alicia, my partner, my other half. Her glowing silver eyes cut through the night while the steel of her Complement danced around us, silver marbles hovering in their ready position, our shield and sword all in one. I smiled at her, and she smiled back again. The time had almost come.
But only almost. I checked behind us. A row of ordinary soldiers stood in the bay, dressed in dull blue-grey coats that fell to their knees. At least they’d managed to get their uniforms somewhat presentable. They brandished modern weapons: heavy rifles and bayonets stowed on their backs. Coarse. Inelegant. It was embarrassing to be seen next to them. Was this really the best our nation could do?
It was no matter. They were only here to witness the wondrous things that were to come.
The doors began to open, letting in the howling winter wind and snow. I checked my watch. We were right on time. I gave Alicia one final look, took her hand in mine and squeezed it. She gave a curt nod and smiled.
Jump.
I took her hand and leapt, our parachutes unfurling cleanly above us. As nobody seemed to be plummeting past us, I supposed that all the soldiers had managed their parachutes as well. The wind whipped around us on all sides, jostling us violently in all directions. Nothing that we hadn’t done before. We landed in a small clearing, a deep bed of snow cushioning the impact. Getting to our feet, Alicia did a quick headcount before we started moving.
Our boots crunched in the frost, scattering the powder behind us with every step. Far above, the burning trails vanished among the clouds as the planes circled back toward our home. We were on our own now, deep, deep into the Corruption. There would be no turning back until our mission was complete.
As if we would even consider turning back.
True, we were alone, for now, with hours of winding trails ahead before we’d meet up with our allies. True, we were surrounded by the Corruption, that wretched place where everything pure was put to death, or worse. True, we could fail. But we wouldn’t. That much was obvious. With the will of Polaris behind us, we were untouchable.
The clearing ended abruptly, snowy fields giving way for the true forest of the corruption. I stopped marching, slowing down to clamber over tangled vines and stare into the darkness of the forest interior. Beneath our feet, fallen leaves lay frozen in place, sheets of ice trapping them in their moment of death. Above us, silverleaf branches reached out like arms, thorny branches casting a spiderweb of shadows on the forest floor. We needed light.
Sparks flickered in my chest, warmth welling up within and flowing down to my fingertips. Light blossomed from my hand, held high to lead the way forward. The soldiers settled into position behind us, a few fainter lights emanating from their untrained hands. Soon, the darkness was overtaken by our light.
I turned around to see my partner’s beaming smile staring right back at me. “I love the way your eyes glow when you do that,” Alicia said.
“Right back at you,” I said. Her own eyes were glowing silver, after all, staring back at me as she brushed a lock of indigo hair from her eyes. Alicia kept smiling as she unfolded the map, the labyrinth of unmarked and false trails and frozen streams our only landmarks to find our way to the rendezvous point. After a few moments, she folded it back up and pointed ahead at a segment of forest that looked just like all the others.
“This way,” Alicia whispered. “I think. Or maybe a little further over there,” she said, pointing to yet another gap between the trees. If there was a trail there, it certainly didn’t show.
“No jokes please, Alicia. I don’t want us to get lost.”
“Oh, loosen up, Iris,” she said. “It’s this way. Come on.” She led the way, her own sky-blue uniform standing out easily from the dull greys of the soldiers that we led.
Though sheltered from the wind and snow outside, the forest was no safer than any other part of the Corruption. Everything was thorny, from the winter flowers just barely poking through the snow cover to the greatest silverleaf trees, their trunks as wide as my outstretched arms. Each was sharp and deadly and had that dull artificiality to it, a veneer of rusted metal concealing the true evil that lay inside.
And, of course, they were here. Somewhere. The shallow footsteps in the snow ahead were the first signs of their presence. Because wherever the Corruption was, they followed, little manifestations of the Patron Antares’s power, metal wrought into strange perversions of life, animated with her scales, commanded by her every word. Scales already skittered across the ground, many-legged flecks of gold and silver and steel that ran across the snow and roots, swarming on every branch and leaf in spindly masses. Little spies, watching and waiting for them.
Alicia put her hand on my shoulder. “Iris? Come on, time to keep moving.”
“Right.” I hadn’t even noticed I’d stopped. We marched onward, mostly in silence save for the sound of branches and ice crunching beneath our boots. The makeup of the forest began to shift, the silverleaf rising higher and the undergrowth receding, tangled vines giving way to bristly carpets of moss peppered with rocky outcroppings, covered only by the thinnest layer of snow and frost. “How much further to the rendezvous point?”
“Maybe another hour or two. It’s going to be a quiet walk,” she answered.
I wondered how the other groups were doing. Were they also marching through a quiet forest? Or had they yet encountered the creatures of twisted metal that called this place their home? Certainly, it’d be no trouble for them, but my mind wandered nonetheless.
“How are you feeling?” I asked my partner.
Alicia smiled. “I’m good, I’m good. It’s almost like we’re out on a leisurely stroll. It’s nice.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s nice to be doing missions with you again.”
“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” We laughed.
The soldiers didn’t seem amused by our idle chatter. Perhaps they were afraid? Didn’t they know they had nothing to fear with Luminare leading them? And Alicia and I were already sixteen years old. We weren’t children; we could handle ourselves. If anything, I was worried that they would only hold us back.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Progress was slow and steady. The path was hard to discern between the vegetation beneath, but Alicia led the way diligently nonetheless. We followed it as it curved to the west and sloped down toward the river valley. Mist began to set in, tendrils of white rising from the ground like smoke and swirling around our feet.
Then we heard it. Rustling in the frozen leaves. Twigs snapping. Ice cracking beneath their feet. A torrent of moving metal, of writhing limbs and claws and teeth, making their presence known despite the thick and heavy fog surrounding us. Converging on our location.
“Stop.” I held up my hand and looked to Alicia. She nodded. They were here. “Excaeli.” A murmur passed through the soldiers.
The terrain was far from ideal. The mix of moss and ice made for slippery footing, a slick layer over the already uneven rocks beneath. A single fallen silverleaf log provided the only substantial cover from the coming onslaught. It would be easy if it weren’t for the rest of them. I was never much of a fan of babysitting. “Ready,” I said. The soldiers thankfully listened, shuffling clumsily into position, dropping their packs into the snow and drawing their firearms and bayonets. “Keep your backs against the tree and hold firm.”
One among them spoke up in a quivering voice. “And what if they come from behind us?”
Silly little soldiers. “We have your back,” I said. The group shared concerned looks. Clearly they had no idea what we were capable of. “Don’t tell me none of you have ever seen a Luminare in action?”
They shook their heads.
“Then today’s your lucky day.” Metal gleamed in the moonlight that filtered through the darkness. One. Two. Five. Twelve. Twenty. “Twenty-eight approaching,” I relayed, clambering over to the far side of the log. “Hold position.” If you can, I thought.
Their figures emerged from the darkness, blurs of tarnished metal streaking across the forest floor. Maybe seven or eight were approaching the half-dozen soldiers hunkered down behind us. That would leave at least twenty for the two of us.
I liked those odds.
In an instant, Alicia’s voice was in my head. There was no time for spoken words. Thankfully, there was also no need for them. “Ready?” she asked. Her Complement swirled into a defensive position, steel balls arranged around us, ready to strike true and smash metal. I felt the invisible hands of her telekinetic power around me, the push and pull of her powers tugging gently at my arms and legs. I was light as a feather.
The telepathic connection made speaking as easy as thinking. “I’m always ready.” The sparks in my chest burst into flame that flowed through my veins and down my arms. Energy concentrated in my fingertips, overflowing in twinkling pinpricks of light. While the soldiers behind us relied on modern, fragile mechanisms, ours was an ancient, and powerful way. Polaris’s way. Two as one in perfect harmony. Minds linked. Bodies linked. Puppet and puppeteer. But although I was the puppet, there were no strings on me.
“Here they come.”
The dance began. Alicia and I moved in tandem, gliding across the snow as the first Excaeli reached our position. Scales crawled across its skin, iron flaked with rust. Teeth bared. Talons out. Its skull collided with my hand, my fingers digging into its skin, holding fast while my flame burned away scale and flesh and bone to ash. And in just an instant, the first one was dead, crumbling bones dissolving into the snow.
My movements settled into cadence with Alicia’s. Something about this always felt so right. The spring in my step from Alicia’s telekinetic strength, her little adjustments that let me weave effortlessly between our opponents, the whistle of her Complement flying alongside us, steel marbles shattering joints and readying each Excaeli for a purifying strike by my burning palms. “How are the others holding up?”
“They’re keeping position for now. Two targets down so far. They might need our help once we’re done.”
“Got it.”
“Duck!”
She spoke and I obeyed. I was already crouching by the time the words registered in my conscious mind. Excaeli claws kissed the air where my neck had been just moments before. So close. But not close enough. My palm slammed against its skull, all the force of Alicia’s might behind it. Searing heat burst from my hand, burning the puppet to cinders where it stood. My breathing was heavy. I’d almost gotten a scratch.
And one scratch was all it took.
One scratch, and the scales would crawl inside of you, devour your flesh, strip you down to the bones. One scratch, and you were a dead man walking, soon to be nothing more than a hollow shell, another puppet used to enact Antares’s will.
“Behind you.”
I turned in place, letting the creature’s clumsy strikes find only air, locking its limbs in place and charring them off, tossing the body down into the snow. Puppets. I smirked. They and I weren’t so different after all, guided in these fights by someone else. But while those wretched things were tools for evil, servants of the Corruption, servants of Antares...
I was in Alicia’s hands. And together, we were tools for good.
Alicia’s Complement whipped about, steel balls finishing off our remaining assailants. I walked between the carcasses one by one, pressing my hand against each one to burn away the corruption.
“Let’s give the soldiers some help, shall we?” she said aloud, climbing up onto the log and helping me up behind her.
The infantry were shaken, dancing around the creatures with their bayonets. From the looks of things, they’d managed to pick off five of them from a distance, but the remaining three were giving them trouble in close quarters. Despite their gloves and jackets, it seemed they still feared the touch of Excaeli claws. They had good reason for that. But we did not. “Step aside,” I commanded.
We hopped down from the log and the soldiers hurried behind us, keeping their bayonets pointed out at the three Excaeli. Alicia’s Complement flew in, a hailstorm of metal striking the Excaeli to the ground. I walked between the paralyzed creatures. One, two, three quick strikes of and they were purified as well. Scales scurried away from their smouldering skeletons, disappearing back into the forest. Alicia brushed a few stray scales off my neck.
I pressed my hands into the snow to cool them before checking Alicia’s neck for scratches. My partner returned the favour, carefully checking my face and peeking behind my collar. Her Complement returned to her side, orbiting her in lazy circles as she reached back into her pocket, pulled out the map, and pointed us back in the right direction. The soldiers didn’t follow right away.
“What are you all staring at?” I asked. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
***
We reached the rendezvous point quickly enough, following the valley upriver as far as we could before venturing back through the forest once again. The clouds had cleared somewhat by then; the moon was high above us now, dappled rays filtering through the dense canopy. But a second glow burned nearer and warmer. Its light was peeking out just over the top of the ridge, casting the forest in unusually warm light. I couldn’t quite see it, but naturally I knew what it was. It was the very heart of the Corruption. The Cradle.
As much as I wanted to climb all the way up over the top of the hill to see it for myself, we had to wait for Jonathan and the others to arrive. Instead, we sat just below the ridge, making idle chatter while scanning the dark surroundings for any sign of my instructor.
“Are you excited to see the Cradle?” I asked Alicia.
“I can’t wait to see it for real. Perhaps it’s mechanical,” she said. “Twisted metal gears and springs and ticking mechanisms, just like everything else here. Beautiful, but artificial, grasping at the natural but failing miserably in every aspect.”
“I that so?”
“Or maybe it’s alive. A beating, fleshy thing, tendrils snaking into the earth around it, sickly glow corrupting everything nearby with all this... stuff. The thorny plants, the razor-grass, the scales crawling, crawling, everywhere.” She tickled the back of my neck.
I slapped her hand away. “Okay, that’s enough.”
She just laughed. “Well, what do you think it’s like?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh come on, after I went on like that? Just take a stab at it.”
“I mean, it’s hard to say,” I finally said. “The last time anyone was here was... must’ve been at least twenty years ago.”
“Instructor Jonathan ever talk about it with you?”
“Yeah. Of course. He said it was... unlike anything he’d ever seen before or after. Something otherworldly. Like a fallen star, chained to the earth. It’s hard to even imagine. It’s almost a shame that we’ll have to destroy it.”
“Imagine that, destroying the Cradle,” muttered Alicia. “Mere humans, attacking the works of the gods.”
“But we are not mere humans. We are Luminare,” I reminded. “We are Polaris’ chosen. If there are any people who could dismantle something built by a Patron, it would be us, wouldn’t it?”
“It would,” she smiled, now. Still, I couldn’t help but consider her words. Indeed, the Cradle had been built by Antares herself, to take that stolen treasure and keep it safe as she tended to it, as she whispered her lies, as she corrupted it so it could blossom, not into beautiful light, but into death and pain and darkness. “Let’s just not incur Antares’s wrath while we’re at it.” We laughed.
“Let’s not take Antares too lightly, either.” my instructor said. When had he come up behind us? Jonathan always looked striking at night, two glowing golden eyes set into his bronze face, casting harsh shadows that emphasized the sharp angles of his facial features. His warm skin was complemented by his blue instructors’ uniform, the same sky-blue as Alicia’s and mine, but just a little more ornamented, sitting comfortably on his frame after years of regular wear. And, of course, around his neck glowed that necklace of light, the echo of what was taken. Of what we would be getting back.
“Instructor Jonathan,” Alicia straightened her uniform before turning to face him. “I didn’t mean to—”
He held up his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Good to see that you two are here on time. Come, we’ll walk up to the ridge before Elizabeth and the others get here.”
The soldiers milled about behind us, greeting each other with smiles and hugs and relaying the events of the night to each other. But Jonathan and I pushed ahead to the hilltop, where the ground sloped gently down once more. This hill was one of many, forming a large ring around a circular valley. The trees ended here, stunted shrubs and thickets giving way for snow-covered grass down the hillside and into the clearing several hundred paces across.
And, in the centre of the clearing, there it was: The Cradle. The seed of the corruption burned bright orange in the night. Ribbons of gold danced across its surface. It looked neither organic nor mechanical, but was seamless and pure, an otherworldly marble sunk into the earth. And surrounding it, a swarm of Excaeli drones mulled about in its glow, hypnotized. Or perhaps they were receiving commands from its sickly light?
From our position here, we could see straight across to the other side of the clearing. The snow at our feet would make the descent slippery, not too hard to traverse, but it would certainly much harder to climb back up. Once descended, there would be no quick escape.
For now, though, we were hidden. Footsteps collected behind us, soldiers coming to a stop at the forest’s edge and peering out into the clearing. “Jonathan.” Instructor Elizabeth’s voice cut through the night, cold as ice.
“Ah, ‘Liz. No issues on the way here, I trust?”
“No issues.” She crouched next to my instructor, deep violet curls framing her cold, brassy eyes. “Irene contacted me. Her group is unable to follow the planned route. The ice is too thin to cross. They need to follow the river until they reach a ford. They should be here later tonight, if all goes well.”
“Understood.” My instructor gestured at the Excaeli milling about below. “You think we can take them without her?”
Instructor Elizabeth scoffed. “With you? You’re kidding, right? Why even ask?”
My instructor stood up and stretched, brushing bits of snow off his pants and jacket. “Okay. After me, then.” He jumped over the top.
His eyes glowed brighter, his necklace shining as wings of light spread out behind him. He was the spiritual child of Polaris. He was the inheritor of her daughter’s legacy. He was our bright and shining star, but also my very own instructor, his warm and guiding hand ever with me these past four years, showing me what it meant to be a true Luminare. Angelic, yes, in these moments of elegant light. But there was no mercy waiting behind his actions. Only judgment.
I covered my ears.
Lightning flashed, not from the clouds above, but my instructor’s hands, messy tendrils of light that cracked the earth and left the ground in flames.
“What a show-off,” muttered Instructor Elizabeth with a smirk as she started down the slope herself.
Alicia and I slid down the rocky face as well, my partner’s telekinesis guiding me down to the snow at the bottom. Everything around was a torrent of scales and flames, of sky-blue and dull grey all mixing together around us. I rubbed my hands together and set my palms alight. “Guide me, Alicia.”
“Things sure are... heating up, aren’t they?”
“Oh come on, you can do better than that.”
She giggled. We cut forward at the earliest opportunity, weaving through the chaos with ease. Alicia’s Complement guided me, locking down Excaeli one by one to meet my open palms. The blue and grey faded away, the flames and the light from the Cradle melting together into a perfect golden backdrop to our performance. My eyes focused only on the glimmering metal, targets disappearing one by one beneath my flame. It was normal. Easy, even. Hardly different from the stage performances we’d given in our academy days, a dance of blood and flame and steel.
And all too quickly, it was over.
Excaeli collapsed, their vessels discarded by Antares and left to dissolve into the earth, bones and ash abandoned by the metal that once coated them. Scales vanished into the slushy remnants of snow beneath our feet.
“Scratch check,” I called. Alicia hurried to my side and we checked every bit of exposed skin for scratches that we knew weren’t there. Still, there was no harm in being careful. Alicia hummed, letting her Complement return to her wrists, marbles reforming a familiar pair of steel bracelets while she lifted up my hair to check my nape.
The camp went up. Canvas rippled from packs, supports impaling themselves into the frozen ground on command as everyone settled in. We set our bags on the ground and set up our tent as well. After so many months setting it up on my own out with Jonathan, Alicia’s telekinesis made it almost insultingly easy, and it went up in no time at all.
The camp set up, we had some time to reflect on the greater task at hand. “So this is the Cradle,” muttered Alicia.
The sphere towered over us, glowing duller now. Its surface was smooth and shiny, like the polished marbles of Alicia’s Complement, surface pulsing gently, contracting and expanding like a beating heart. Four slender metal arms rose from the ground, mechanical hands gripping it, as if to keep it anchored in the earth. As if this great metal sphere would simply float away into the heavens. The Cradle was icy cold. If it was mechanical, it showed no outward signs of it; its surface was smooth and almost soft to the touch. Still, I had a hard time believing it could be anything alive, either.
“Well, which is it, then? Alive or not?”
“Something in between,” I muttered in a daze. What an otherworldly thing. And yet we were supposed to go inside of it? Just how much space could be in there? It was only maybe ten steps wide from end to end. How had it so callously destroyed those who ventured in before? And where even was the entrance? Its surface betrayed no seams of any sort, merely a continuous orange glow that emanated on all sides. Everything about it just seemed slightly off. How could this exist? Why did this exist? What strange magic had Antares used to create such a sickly engine for the Corruption that now stretches so far across the world?
“Whatever it is, it’s beautiful,” said Alicia. “You were right. It’s really a shame that we’ll have to destroy it after.“
I had said that. But seeing it now, despite its inarguable beauty, there was something that just made me feel uneasy. “It’s evil. There’s nothing about this that is natural or right. It’s an abomination.”
“But it is beautiful.”
She was right. “Still. The world will be better off once we rip out the necklace trapped inside. And I can’t wait to do that.”
My partner smiled in return. “I can’t wait either.”
Our chat was interrupted by a cry of pain.
I already knew where this was heading. Even so, I had to see. Sure enough, a lone soldier sat off at the edge of camp, cradling his arm. His jacket and gloves lay discarded in the snow beside him. There was blood. He looked young, maybe just four or five years older than me. What... what a shame.
From across the camp, my instructor’s eyes locked with my own. I gave him a gentle nod. It was all he needed to see. We both knew what had to be done. Together, we approached the soldier.
The boy looked down as we approached, silver eyes staring back at me behind his wispy brown hair. I grabbed one hand and pulled it away from his wrist. As I’d feared, there was a small slit cut into his tanned skin. A place where a claw had rent the flesh and delivered its deadly pathogen. So young. I felt wetness in the corner of my eye. A tear rolled down my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away. No time for that. “How long ago was the cut?”
“I don’t know.”
Jonathan frowned. “Don’t be like that. You’re only going to make things harder for yourself.” He took his arm and rolled up his sleeve. The skin was covered in flecks of metal already. “Come... come with me,” my Instructor said.
“Wait,” he started, before realizing any argument was futile.
“Don’t make a scene.” I whispered. “Make your peace with others, if you must.” I could see the pain on my Instructor’s face. He had to do it. Not because it felt good, but because the alternative was worse.
The boy simply nodded. “I’m already prepared.”
We led him to the edge of camp. He knelt in the snow, head down. I crouched in front of him, tilting his chin up so our eyes met. “What’s your name?”
“Damian”, he said. His eyes looked so much like Alicia’s. The same silver light reflecting deep within. But she had been perfect. Flawless. And he had not. And the price of failure was absolute.
“Don’t worry about anything else anymore. You’ve been very brave so far, Damian. Polaris would be proud of you.” He showed no reaction to the mention of our Patron’s name, only shaking. His breaths were short and shallow, wisps of vapour scattering in the wind.
My Instructor continued. “But it’s too late for you now. Antares has her hold on you. The scales are already eating away at you, and soon there will be nothing left. Polaris would never want one of her faithful to be profaned in such a way. I know you understand. I know you’re ready.”
He broke into tears, falling wet and hot and melting the snow before him. “I don’t want to die,” he choked out.
“It’s okay,” I comforted him.
Jonathan spoke again. “I don’t want to do this, either” He ran his hand down the boy’s face from forehead to chin. Once. Twice. Three times. His tears stopped.
“There, there,” I said. “It’s okay.” Poor thing. What a waste. What a stupid, stupid waste of life. One scratch. One scratch! But that was all it took. And now, there was only a single path forward. I took a deep breath.
Jonathan pressed his palm against the boy’s face and let the fire flow down his arm and into him. Damian’s body burst into flames. Jonathan’s palm must have been burning. Still, he held it fast against him. The soldier was silent. Flesh curled and darkened, flaking away until bone turned to ash and the corpse collapsed into the snow.
The scales scurried away, disappearing beneath the earth and among the trees, hiding and waiting for their next chance to strike. His ash scattered, carried off by the breeze and disappearing into the darkness.
“Get inside, Iris. The wind is picking up,” said Jonathan. “I have a feeling there’ll be a storm tonight.”