I look down from the atop of a dusty mesa. This is my home. My name is Maur Crescendo.

The sky blurs into bloody colors, as the ripples from the aging sunset fight to remain alive. The dusty badlands and layered stone distances start to fill my view as it gets darker. The stones free-fall below me, across an open abyss of dirt and tumbleweeds. The tumbleweeds scurry around at night, like many of the people in the city and towns. Everyone is looking to do the bidding of the nobles. I take a seat and allow my feet dangle over the edge of the cliff. I fear no fall. I have a jet-pack like the other nobles and their flying swarms of bodyguards.

In the horizon, I watch as lights flick on one-by-one, as other distance mesas reveal their hidden faces. A blurry ring of spots and speckles surrounds me, clarified to my eyes by the nighttime darkness. I have strange eyes. They are black like my hair, with a gold ring around my iris. My eyes fill with black like ink in water when it is dark, allowing me to see. My stare is like an eclipse. I can see perfectly in the dark, like my familial line. The foreigners say my ancient eyes were once drawn by a strange people in The Far Away Dream. My eyes were passed down to me from my family, like many myths.

“Capara – A landscape ever-changing; the rule of coin troubled by the search for beauty”

The sun finally sets. Dust and wind scatters from behind me, disturbing me. Someone else was on the mesa with me, ending my tranquility

“Maur” says a voice.

With haste, I turn and recognize the face of one of my bodyguards. His name is Toah and his jet-pack was strapped to his back, much like my own. I catch the outline of his metal helm, with folded netting. It helps stop the reflections from interfering with my eyes. I don't have an affinity for bright lights. I look down at Toah's hand. His jet-pack control was in his hand like a stick. A wire ran to his back. I look down at Toah's knee-blade. My flying killers could fly and cut you. The blade was best in a retreat, when tipped with poison and disease. It look at Toah's other hand. I observe his new gun. Some use rifles. Toah was a one-handed shooter like many others in my service.

“The mind is always your trusted weapon, Toah. Never the gun....”

“Don't tuck yourself in and fly away, Toah.” I say. “I need someone to talk to,”

I look at my closest bodyguard. He fumbles around in the dark, but I grab him and lead him away from the edge. I needed his day time vision, like almost all of my bodyguards. They, in turn, benefited from my perspective.

“I can't see,” states Toah.

“I am aware, but I am your future king,” I reply.

I observe Toah, once more. I didn't trust him with too much work. I keep my enemies close, when I can. At the very least, I have my body armor for protection. Toah responds to me.

“Of course sir. Might I add, the king had been dead for three nights now.”

I pause. What Toah said was true. My delay was planned by me. I think to myself.

“Be patient, Toah. My whole life has been ruled by this moment and now that it’s here, I want nothing to do with it. My fears are my chains and I’m nothing more than a failed Houdini.”

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I stay silent. Toah can hear me breathing. He listens to my feet scuffle as I step to my side. When the Caparan king died, a new one had to be chosen. There were five noble houses that competed for the crown. Each one, would raid the foreign lands and build up their flying armies. Our swarms would unite under the true king in the end, when the duel was over. Until then, we were like rivaling fingers competing for a fist.

I glare over at my bodyguard. “You may leave, Toah”

“Of course, sir.”

Toah bows to me and I watch him move away. He leaps into the air and tucks his body in. His knee-blade extends like a slashing stinger and he flies toward the likes of the city. I look across at the capital city of my people. It was duly named Capara. That's where I was headed. Capara was some distance from my mesa home. The nobles live inside the mesas. They are like natural towers, hollowed out into a mansion.

“Capara, indeed....”

I take a look at Capara. The king's palace was at the center and was nearly a mesa itself from size alone. It had five torch pillars. They spurt blind specks in my vision, as their fires rose periodically from their top. Below the torched pillars, was the wealthy palace itself. It had an impressive roof of carved history made by the finest masons. It colors were the blues and shades of pink marble. The building itself was painted dark, with outlines of gold around each of complexes that composed it. I peer harder. The religious complex was to the side of the king's palace. It was the second largest structure in the city and not one I enjoyed looking at. I clench my jet-pack controls with my pitch black gloves.

“My hunting grounds....”

It was time to get my hunting grounds. The royal priests would bestow upon me my hunting grounds. My hunting grounds were the lands I was to use to build my swarm. That would be my area of the world to raid and plunder. Usually, the priests would give the best hunting grounds to those they favored. It could also be paid for with a gold coin and a welcoming smile. I didn't have such wealth. Even if I did, I avoid corruption when I can. I ponder.

“The cost of training and equipping my flying swarm is madness! The last thing I want is another night passing, while the four nobles build up their flocks. After all, I only have a limited amount of time before the duel comes.”

I already knew who the priests favored. It wasn't me, but one of my rivals named Luer Tellacoselli. I have many names for him, but mostly call him Luer.

Normally, not being favored would upset me. It didn't though. I had a plan to win the crown and the real prize of the duel. I will explain. The true prize of the king wasn't just his crown. It was the Lady of the land. She was beautiful and had the glowing and magnificent body – a creation from The Far Away Dream. Her beauty alone, could justify the blood that would be spilled, while we built up our swarms. It far surpassed anything I thought was possible, as a younger man. Being 34, I was starting think differently about her. Her otherworldly beauty had impacted me most of my life. There had to be more than seeking her affection. I'm sure the other competing nobles were realizing, just the same.

I glare once more at Capara. The masses were impoverished and I was happy to be accounted as a noble instead. However, it bothered me that the corrupt priests took so much from my people. They wandered the streets in rags and they thought nothing of it. The priests and priestesses kept them busy and took all the donations.

The Caparan priestesses were also creations of the ancient picture. They were lesser beauties than the Lady of the land. They did have merit to the eyes and I was quite fond of looking at them from time to time. We would trade for more priestesses with the Neandelerians every so often. It's a secret, to how they do it. It was just one of the many enterprises the foreigners had. Hopefully, Neandeleria would be my hunting grounds, but I couldn't affirm that. I had to see the high priest first.

The loud vibrations of my jet-pack fills my ears. I hover in the air, spewing dust in various directions as I leap and grip my controls. My gloves held it nicely and I rub my fingers on my old equipment. I listen to the motor and many mechanisms. I feel it tickle against my back stop to think midair. It was time to see the high priest. I think about my rivals. A sarcastic and mocking thought begins my flight.

“I suppose you all are just as eager as I am. So everyone, listen to the preacher…”