“Maur, sir. The logistical maneuvers you wanted are finished.”

“Thank you, Toah,” I reply with all seriousness.

I glare across the far distance from the perch of a nearby building. I nearly ignore Toah, as he stands behind me. I had made it to the Ryoken lands by nightfall. My trip had already given a fortunate outcome. The Felokyle was turning Ryoken again and the Neandelerians were losing their grip.

I smell the countryside grasses around me, under a dark sky of open stars. I wondered how they looked with normal eyes. The many blurs that dotted the horizon, touched my eyes with discomfort.

I observe the destruction in my view. A Neandelerian sky platform was being destroyed from the ground below. Blurs of fire and smoke rail against its walls in the sky. I hear a loud crack, thundering across the horizon. I watch as part of the sky platform falls into the sea. The waters separate and splash with screaming people. The battle had been raging ever since that young dancer took to the stage. My scouts had told me, She set whole city on fire. I ponder to myself.

“There are too many hurdles to overcome in a lifetime, in which unforeseeable trials will always dominate with injustice. Nothing is fair and all people aren’t born equal in circumstance, yet, given the right tools they will prevail two things while living – themselves and those around them.”

Toah interrupts my wandering thoughts once more.

“Sir, what are my orders now?,” he says with impatience.

I look back at Toah. He was standing in the darkness, as I have him do.

“Send a small detachment of my flying killers to rescue those who survive the battle of the Felokyle. I will fill my ranks graciously, to whoever is willing.” I turn to face Toah. I take a step across the rooftop.

“Yes, Maur.”

I nod at Toah, but he can't see me.

I had a meeting with my rival Luer tomorrow. The high priest was going to arbitrate our dispute. Luer claimed the Felokyle was his hunting grounds, being occupied by the Neandelerians. I claimed is was mine, being part of the Ryoken lands. I sure they favored him, but I wanted arbitration. I would give me a chance to observe my rival and old friend up close.

“I wonder what Luer is up to...”

My jet-pack controls rotate in my hands as I ponder in thought again. My eyes were already inked in black and the ring around them was actively golden. I go back to the building edge and stare across at the Felokyle. I didn't speak the native tongue and I needed someone who did. So far my scouts had confirmed that the female messengers spoke many. I needed to kidnap one and convince her to join me. The one who pulled the Felokyle into the massive battle was a prime candidate.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

My jet-pack shakes on my back. I leap off the building edge smearing mud. A small thrill moves up my spine and I fly off to my main camp. My air time gives me time to think. I focus on my rivals. All four were well-off and had me at a disadvantage. The high priest saw to it, that I would be short-handed. I know them by various means.

“The vicious Desparsa Amorora – a rival I only met once in my youth, whose sadistic teeth express vividly his smile for blood lust. He was kind as a child, but the skin of his teeth was just cover for his hatred of all things living.

The wealthy Nola Capara – A noble man whose only basis for nobility was his wealth. His ancestors helped make Capara what it is today. Yet, he believes inherited wealth gives him the right to claim life as a puzzle he figured out. He would buy your wife and mate with her if he had the chance.

The gentleman Classidine - I’ve only met his daughter Mona – a reserved girl with long, straight, black hair and plain jet-black eyes. She is deaf and mute and disgraced by her family. I often visit and take her out her imprisonment at home. We go to the library together when she's allowed. She used to be my eyes, during the day.”

I pause to give my thoughts a break. My jet-packs hums and I move higher, while several natives come out of their homes. The whistle of my helm brings blind pointing from them below. I fly higher. I wanted to move high enough to avoid the tempests. They can move in the air, but how far remains a question to be answered.

My jet-pack controls dangle against the wall as I find another building to stand upon and drop them. I flex my hands. The many blurs that compose my camp were across from me. My flying killers were up late again. They keep their torches close to their tents. They hide their secrets with the light when I do my inspections.

I hear Toah land close to me. He covers a small light on his hand out of courtesy. I speak to him with a calm tone.

“Toah, less lighting would be appreciated.” I was speaking of my camp.

“ I can't, Maur. They want the lights on. They're drunk again like the camp guards, sir.”

I turn and look at Toah. He lets his jet-pack controls dangle by his feet as he waits. He didn't look too comfortable with the orders I gave him. Toah's attitude toward my distracting thoughts and sluggishness was why I enjoyed keeping him close to me. His motives were why we were far apart.

“Very well, Toah. Let them have their morale.”

I hear Toah rumble on his jet-pack. He flies away.

I stare into the night. I don't look away from my camp. Instead, I focus inward on my fourth and last rival. He was someone that I once called friend. The high priest favored him most. I'm sure his starting swarm was three to four times greater in size than mine.

“The Cocky Luer Tellacoselli - My good friend as a child, who naturally grew to hate those born with eyes like my own. He is cocky and narcissistic until challenged, where he blinks repeatedly as if his ego has been crazed. I think that's as close as he will ever get to allowing himself to be humbled. He's good with a knee-blade.”

My thoughts vanish as I flex my fingers within their black grips, My gloves were sweaty and I enjoyed talking them off in the cold night. It was time to head to my camp.