Vai and Mahu Kaeo crested the grassy hills that overlooked his home island’s beach. The island’s atmosphere was suffocated by a heavy blanket of tension as the ships drew towards the shore.
Most of the women and children had been ushered towards the village, encouraged to stay inside. Meanwhile, the men had armed themselves. They didn’t look ready to attack, but their guard was up, as if expecting it from the Nikan.
“By the gods, not again," Kaeo hissed as they both set eyes on the Nikan mega-canoes. There had to be at least fifteen of those vessels, but Vai’s mind was too occupied to count.
“What do you mean again?” Vai furrowed his brow. "Mahu, have they been here before?”
Kaeo sighed, but nodded. "The Empire has wanted to annex our islands ever since Rarotonga accepted vassalage under them. I assume they’ve sent this many to intimidate us.”
Vai cursed. "What do we do?”
“We will simply reject them again," Kaeo said. "They are more a nuisance than anything. They cannot afford to hurt anyone.”
Vai hesitated for a moment, considering if that assessment was true. “War with the Westerners and Jambudvipa already has them occupied, right?”
Kaeo nodded. "And if they harm us, a good portion of other tribes and islands have expressed they are willing to form a coalition to defend each other from Nikan.”
Vai followed his teacher as they descended down to the beach along with the other people of the village. Najeem had notably concealed his face with a black cloth wrap as he and Shahla met them.
The junks dropped their anchors a ways out before lowering smaller watercraft that rowed their way to shore.
A young man with tan skin, but narrow Nikan eyes, in lamellar armor and accompanied by another man in elaborate silk robes stepped onto the beach. No Aotearoan made any moves. Stillness among his people was usually out of reverence. But there was no respect here. Only tension.
“Should we not at least offer them the Powhiri?” Vai whispered.
“They killed one of our warriors last time we tried to greet them," Kaeo grimaced. "It was an honest mistake.”
“People of Ao tei rou e 46,” the man in rich silk announced in broken Aotearoan while Nikanizing their land’s name. "We of the great Empire of Nikan come on behalf of the Golden Emperor, Lord of Heaven, Gongsun Xuanyuan. He graciously extends his hand to those less fortunate in an offer of protection and friendly aid in exchange for a meager tribute to aid a well-met friend in his endeavors against those that would threaten our ways and yours.”
“Begone from our shores, word weaver,” Kaeo said, stepping forward. “We are in a time of festivity and would ask to not be bothered with such matters until after the celebration. We cannot accept your offer, as we have stated multiple times. Good day to you.”
“I encourage that you truly reconsider as we asked of you last time,” the man in silk said, raising his chin up at Kaeo. “Our emperor will not allow this rejection to become a humiliation of him and his great house.”
“You’d best listen to him, old Mahu,” the man in lamellar said in much better Aotearoan. “We won’t be taking ‘no’ so graciously.”
“We have nothing more to consider,” Kaeo insisted. “You cannot make us accept bondage to your emperor’s leash. Now begone!”
“Told you they wouldn’t listen, Jiang.” The man in lamellar shook his head and sighed before turning to Vai and his people. "You wanna refuse? Fine. Here’s how things are going to happen. You’ll have a few minutes to prepare. After that, we will make an example of you.”
___________________________________________________________________
Shahla let herself be dragged away by Lokapele as Mahu Kaeo and the Nikan ambassador spoke. She hurried to keep pace with Lokapele as the Lady of FIre insistently pulled on her wrist.
“I need you to help me with something," Lokapele said. "Have that knife of yours ready. Those Nikan are attacking.”
“What? Then we can’t fight them, we need to leave!” Shahla protested.
“What, do you think they’re here for you?” Lokapele asked. "You want your boat to still be intact, right?”
“Well...yes," Shahla muttered.
“Then you’ll help me save some lives or I’ll trap you and your Asasiyun here with us,” Lokapele said as she kicked a fighting staff with a stone point at the end into her hands and grabbed a torch while they passed through the village.
They started onto a path through the jungle surrounding the huts, getting far enough from the beach to barely see the Nikan junks.
“But why do you need my help?” Shahla asked.
“I can sense the power in your veins. We both hold gods within us.”
“You can tell?”
“Of course I can," Lokapele said.
“Look, I’ve only had these Scars for a month at best. And I’ve only ever used them once!”
“You’ll never learn to use them if you don’t practice.” Lokapele continued with haste through the jungle.
Shahla sighed, but hurried after the Lady of Fire as she ran inland towards a volcano at the center of the island. The jungle surrounding it wasn’t that dense, but Shahla still found herself tripping over rocks and branches.
Lokapele had a graceful agility to each of her movements that seemed to be nearly inhuman.
The terrain started to become steeper as the jungle transitioned into the volcano’s rocky face. Greenery and mud became ash and sharp volcanic rocks. Clusters of obsidian replaced brightly colored blooms.
Shahla heard the sharp echoes of clashing weapons and screams as they started up the volcano’s slopes. She glanced back and saw that the Nikan had invaded the beach. The islanders had taken up arms, but with the amount of forward momentum the Nikan line had, it wasn’t shaping up to be a very even fight.
“They’re attacking!” Shahla exclaimed.
“I know! So let’s hurry!” Lokapele shouted.
Footfalls behind them grabbed Shahla’s attention. Several shadowy figures burst from the jungle at incredible speed, rushing past her and towards Lokapele, identifying her as the bigger threat.
“About time you fuckers showed yourselves!” the woman shouted. She discarded her torch and smacked a Nikan man dressed in pure black out of the air with a solid crack of her staff. The oddly shaped chain weapon in his hand clattered to the ground. "They’re Fuso Shinobi! Keep your guard up!”
Shahla drew her knife and ran to Lokapele’s side.
But realistically? She saw how those warriors had moved. They were as nimble and quick as Najeem. She couldn’t fight them.
“Steady your hand, girl!” Lokapele hissed. "Use your Scars!”
The advice was slightly comforting, but ultimately meaningless when she remembered that she had absolutely no idea how to ‘use’ her Scars. Lokapele rushed forward with her staff, matching the defending warriors’ swiftness.
Shahla dove to the ground as one of them nearly slit her throat with a swipe of metal claws attached to the underside of his palm. Her tumble ripped her headscarf away, unveiling her Scars. They burned under the moonlight, glowing a blinding silver.
She staggered, groaning in pain. Her face burned so hot it was cold.
Last time she had the chance to use these, she barely got out alive. But something in her determined that this time would be different. Her heartbeat calmed as her fear started to wane.
The pain calmed a little. Without it, she felt the power she had. It chilled her veins with a cold she’d never felt.
The warriors attacked again. But Shahla could evade them. They were slower.
No. She was faster. Or rather...her mind was. It was as though she could almost foresee her attackers’ movements. The premonitions stayed in time with her labored breaths.
Shahla pulled on the power inside her and forced it out of her. A wave of soft silver light caused the warriors exposed to the night sky to move sluggishly. Lokapele took advantage of the opportunity and defeated those that surrounded her. The warriors hidden by shadows of the jungle dared not step out of their protection.
Lokapele had no trouble dealing with them, given their restricted movement.
Shahla collapsed to her knees once the last one was dealt with. She hadn’t expected it to be so exhausting.
“We’re not done yet," Lokapele said, pulling Shahla up to her feet. "Just a little further.”
The heat of the volcano’s magma was starting to be rather apparent to Shahla as they continued up its side. Hot wind, reeking of sulfur and ash hissed out of narrow vents. A low rumble caused a nearby lava pool to pop. Shahla would’ve cried out, were the air not so horrid to breathe.
“How is...the volcano...going to help?” Shahla asked, her sleeve muffling her voice, trying not to huff the toxic fumes.
“Like this," Lokapele said, barely seeming encumbered by the acidic winds. "We’re close enough.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, discarding her staff and reaching her arms out towards the volcano’s peak.
What Shahla had once believed to be tattoos along her sides and stomach glowed bright orange. They were Plague Scars.
Shahla staggered back as a humanoid figure lurched out from Lokapele’s back like a ghost. The figure had skin made of stone, rife with cracks that revealed a layer of molten lava underneath. It looked almost exactly like Lokapele, save for the skin and the hair made of fire.
The ground beneath them started to rumble.
“Are you making the volcano erupt?” Shahla exclaimed over the tremors in the earth.
“Don’t worry! I’m in control!” Lokapele assured her.
Clouds of thick ash started to spew from the mouth of the volcano.
“How diffused is the line between our side and theirs?” Lokapele asked.
Shahla turned, finding that she could see the entire beach from here. There was still a fine divide between the warriors and Nikan soldiers.
“It’s solid!” Shahla called over the rumbling volcano.
“Good!” Lokapele turned and cast her hands downwards towards the beach.
Shahla spared a moment to look back at the volcano just in time to see a giant sphere of molten earth shoot from the clouds of ash and hurtle towards the invaders. She quickly squeezed her eyes shut before they started to water from the volcano’s fumes.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“What the hell are you?” Shahla asked, able to express her awe at Lokapele’s manipulation of the earth.
“The same thing you are.” Lokapele swung her fist down again, sending another ball of lava at the enemy. "A Belu.”
Belu. Why did that word sound familiar? It was close to the Qahtanad word for ‘Master’.
“Do I also have a ghost inside me?”
“It’s called a Shedim. You can ask whatever questions you want later. The main forces of the Nikan are hitting the beach," Lokapele said. "We should help them.”
“I don’t think I have the energy in me to use my power again,” Shahla said. “Or much of anything else.”
“Get out of here and go help the people hide.” Lokapele stamped the ground, causing a slab of rock to abruptly shoot out of the ground. She broke it off. "I’m gonna keep going.”
Yet again helpless, Shahla fled the heat of the volcano. Her fate was placed in the hands of those more powerful and more capable than her. But it was supposed to be her fate, wasn’t it?
_____________________________________________________________
Lokapele slid down the side of the volcano on a river of lava that emptied into the ocean. She locked her knees, sending the slab of rock she surfed on into the air.
As she propelled towards the beach, she melted her slab into lava and fired it into a Nikan rank as she landed in the midst of the battle. She cleared the area around her with the impact alone.
The battlefield was chaotic and put her people on the backfoot, as Aotearoans rarely used battle formations like the Nikan did. Their lightly armored warriors were also a bad match for the supposedly light, but still heavily armored Nikan infantry.
Lokapele smacked her heel against the sand, sending an impulse through the earth that caused a hunk of magma to explode from the volcano’s top. She’d already bonded with this island’s volcano, so she could draw on it for magma.
She leapt into the air as a ball of magma came flying towards her. She took more precise control over it and split it into a thousand molten missiles that pelted the encroaching soldiers.
After her attack had been given time to be received by the enemy, she gathered all the lava up and cast it into the sea. The lava solidified as it touched water, but destroyed the hulls of the Nikan boats. She would ensure none of them left alive. That much would be a message to the Empire.
Or at least, she intended to until Lokapele unleashed another volley of magma towards the rest of the enemy boats.
Rain poured down from the sky only for an instant, just long enough to solidify Lokapele’s ball of magma.
A figure leapt into the sky and with a single kick, shattered the boulder into a million pieces that flew away from the enemy. Lokapele prevented any of them from striking her people, able to melt smaller pieces fast enough to collect them in a floating store of magma.
The figure landed across the battlefield from her. He was a tall, handsome man who almost looked Aotearoan, but certain features made Lokapele question that. Especially the fact that he was wearing Nikan armor. He had the look of a prince.
“You must be the famous Lady of Fire," he smirked. He spoke her language almost too well. "I am Gongsun Lan, Twelfth prince of the Nikan Empire. Let us dance to fertility, the fires of your volcanic passion cooled and tamed by the touch of my waters.”
Lokapele spat, then sent another smaller sphere of magma down at him from the volcano. He caused three or four clouds to simply vanish as they turned into rain, but she willed the magma to split apart and go around the rain, smashing into the Nikan prince.
But his form morphed into a boar that was too short for her lava to hit. He ran out from under it before the magma fell to the ground. His form seamlessly returned to that of a human’s as he leapt into the air next to her, attacking her with a spinning kick.
Lokapele put distance between herself and the prince, evading the attack. Much to her surprise, he didn’t follow it up.
“You know, a warrior normally introduces herself before engaging another esteemed opponent," Lan said. "Even if he knows your name.”
“What do you know about being a warrior, prince?” she sneered.
“I know all that my mother, Princess Keana Aolani, told me.”
Aolani. The Rarotongan dynasty who’d subjected themselves to Nikan rule. Who gave away their daughters to the emperor so they could be forced to birth insults to the Aotearoan people like this prince.
“So you were born to the daughter of the traitor chief?” Lokapele growled. "Good. Now I have an even greater reason to kill you.”
One of the Nikan foolishly tried to attack her, thinking he had the element of surprise with him. Lokapele grabbed the hand holding a mace and twisted it back towards him with so much force, the weapon cracked his ribs.
“Ah, but you won’t. Or rather, you can’t. My Shedim, the Shapeshifting Boar of Clouded Skies is the consort of yours. It was his cooling rains that tamed the fires of the Lady of the Boiling Earth, solidifying it into fertile soil," Lan said, twirling the sharktooth club he wielded in his hand. The weapon whined and whispered in her ears, pleading for help. It was an Elder Shedim being Banebended against its will. “You and I are bound to each other. It is your destiny to submit to me.”
Pangs of sympathy and worry echoed through Lokapele from her Shedim. The Lady of the Boiling Earth desperately wanted to free her lover. It was odd how human the Shedim could be sometimes.
“True enough my powers are a bad match against yours. But our Shedim are separate from us. Yours especially. I’ll just beat you to death and free the Boar," Lokapele growled.
“To what end?” Lan gestured to their surroundings.
The Nikan had pushed the warriors all the way back to their village. Where their women and children were hiding away.
Lokapele had to turn this battle around somehow. The prince seemed to only be able to manipulate rain and not water in general. Otherwise, the sea would’ve been a far more effective option to cool her lava. If she could summon something large enough…
The Lady of the Boiling Earth writhed with fury. She was eager to unleash her fury on the man who had captured her love.
Lokapele smacked her foot against the sand again, calling to the volcano.
As the ground started to rumble, Lan looked over at the volcano and sighed. "Perhaps I need to show you why all your effort is futile.”
The whine from the Shedim trapped in Lan’s club became a screech of agony as mist began to spill from the weapon. Lokapele melted a bit of sand into magma and reformed it as an obsidian taiaha fighting staff.
The fog started to drift towards her ankles and Lokapele jumped at its touch. It was cold. Deathly cold. Cold enough to solidify whatever she summoned from the volcano. A hail of rocks would still be better than nothing, but if the molten rock couldn’t flow, she couldn’t manipulate it.
“Understand now?” Lan smirked.
Lokapele kicked the sand, melting it just long enough to launch it at the prince. He dodged the quickly cooling projectile just before she slammed her taiaha into his chest so hard the stone shattered. She discarded the remnants, as Lan took the impact, and sprinted towards the Aotearoan warriors and the village.
“Flee!” Lokapele shouted at the men still trying to defend the village. The Qahtanad man, Jambudvipi woman and Vai were among them. "Get away! Go to your canoes! Go to Waipatea!”
“You would have us abandon our village?” one of the warriors asked.
“I’m asking you to save your people. You can rebuild a village! You can’t bring back the dead!” Lokapele said. "I’ll buy you time.”
“No," Vai said. "You shouldn’t expect us to act with caution if you’re going to turn around and do something stupid. Come with us. Your spirit and your power are needed.”
Lokapele didn’t like the idea, but people would need her. Either to fight or to help them through the despair. She could see that much.
Her stomach went heavy as she thought about her decision, the aspect of time causing her chest to tighten even further.
“Fine,” she sighed, pushing the impulses of guilt away. “I’ll go. But first, I’m going to take out as many as I can.”
Lokapele looked to the volcano and outstretched her hand. Her Shedim manifested as she drew on an immense amount of power. The earth began to tremble again. She channeled it all into the volcano, keeping it pressed inside until the pressure was too much.
She closed her fist, releasing the pressure. Volcano exploded into a violent eruption, ash and fire raining from the sky. Rivers of lava would soon stream through the island.
“Let’s go!” she shouted.
Racked with vertigo from her exertion of power, Lokapele struggled to run with the denizens of the village, Vai, the Jambudvipi woman and the Qahtanads down to the beach on the other side of the island.
Canoes were dragged from a large cave on the beach and into the water with a collective effort from all the villagers and visitors. Vai pushed his canoe into the sea. "Come on!”
Lokapele jumped onto the deck after the foreigners. Vai made a series of practiced motions and knots to get the boat moving. But there wasn’t any wind to catch the sail.
Vai opened a small compartment in the deck and handed each passenger a small paddle. "Start rowing!”
Lokapele took a paddle and started to do her part in rowing. She spared a glance back at the villagers. They'd gotten onto their canoes before the Nikan could catch up. She let herself sigh with a little relief.
At the very least, most of them lived. She could be satisfied with that much. After all, for an Aotearoan, home was where the wind and waves took you.
But this transgression would not be forgotten. This attack was an act of war.
____________________________________________________________________
Vai considered himself strong as a person. He had always been tough in the face of hardship. He’d had boats wash away, he’d been stranded multiple times. He’d even gotten lost at sea for nearly a month and managed to make it back alive.
But now his entire family was displaced. He didn’t know who was dead and who had lived.
He didn’t panic. Nor did he mourn the unknown dead. Despite his vulnerable nature, he was far too practical for that.
Worried was the right word. The Nikan had always been trying to interfere with affairs among the islanders. But they’d never been this big of a threat.
This magnitude of slaughter was unheard of among his islands. And a Nikan prince at the head? It was clear to see that Nikan no longer wished to offer Aotearoa the mercy of diplomacy.
Vai tied his sail in place as the winds started to pick up. The mood over the entire boat was somber, as it well should have been. Darkness hung among the steady beat of the waves and a tune of devastation was picked up by the wind.
Shakti sat down next to him. "Hey. Are you alright?”
Vai nodded. "I’ll be fine. Fine enough.”
Shakti shook her head. "Not what I mean. But if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine. Just let me know when you do.”
After a short pause, Najeem got to his feet in the middle of the canoe, addressing the other four of them.
“Never once have I seen a man Banebend like that before," Najeem said. "I haven’t a clue why it is they’ve chosen to wage a fourth war. But...with their arcane power, it wouldn’t be that out of the picture to think they have nothing but Bane Knights lining the Khogirat front. We should be wary of such power moving forward.”
“Does picking more fights with the Nikan have something to do with your mission?” Vai asked, half joking.
Unfortunately, Najeem nodded.
“That was supposed to be sarcastic," Vai muttered. "What the hell are you two up to that would make an encounter with a Bane Knight so possible?”
The Asasiyun sighed. "I suppose I’m not so paranoid to still think that you two would work for the Empire at this point.”
Shahla stood with him and took off her headscarf for the first time since Vai had known her. He was stunned to see Plague Scars going through her eyes.
“You have Plague?” Vai asked, shifting away from her.
“It’s not a plague," Lokapele muttered. "I have those same markings in my tattoos. It’s what allows me to control magma.”
“That part isn’t important," Shahla said. "I am Shahla al-Samara, princess of Qahtan and wife to Prince Ahmed. This is my bodyguard, Najeem al-Iqbal. He has actually been rather upfront with you about who he is.”
“You’re a princess?” Vai’s jaw dropped. Then he closed it and put on a mask of disappointment. “Oh wait, you married into royalty. Nevermind what I was going to say, then.”
Vai lurched as Lokapele landed a solid punch to his jaw, a little too strong to be friendly.
“Ow!” Vai whined.
Shahla shook her head, grinning. "Anyways, a month before we met you, Prince Ahmed’s capital was besieged and taken by his older brother Prince Ali. As far as we know, Ali is more or less a thrall under the Nikan Empire. Koinelia, an empire to the west, is the only power in the world with the might to oppose Nikan. So Najeem and I intend to make our way there and request aid from their armies such that Qahtan might be free of Nikan interference.”
“I’ve been considering this, but now I believe without a doubt that it may be mutually beneficial for you to join us in our quest," Najeem said.
“Join you?” Shakti asked. "Why? These two have a whole fleet of refugees to help. Moreover, you’re crazy.”
“The refugees will find a leader," Najeem said. "But you’ve just seen here why we must fight them, however daunting an enemy they may be. The Nikan are powerful and for the sake of all our peoples, must be fought against. They weren’t afraid to send a fleet after a small island of a few hundred. Imagine what lengths they would be willing to go to against a whole nation. If Ali realizes that we may be looking for aid and tells them, they will send powerful sorcerers like the one today. We need Lokapele’s firepower. Shakti, you know best about the lands we’re going to arrive in that could help us go undetected. And Vai, we have no maps. We will likely not even be using roads and pathways. And we have a long distance to travel. Your navigational skills would be invaluable, even on land.”
Vai got the urge to smile upon hearing Najeem’s praise.
“I’ll go," Lokapele said.
Vai and Shakti looked at each other. She had uncertainty written across her face, with knit brows and a flat gaze into nothing. Shakti had left her home at just fifteen and had never stayed in the same place or on the same track for more than a few months. Vai was probably the largest commitment she’d ever made.
Odds were she wouldn't be too amicable with the idea of a long quest. In addition to the whole fighting an empire thing, obviously. Ultimately, Vai didn’t think she’d care if both Qahtan and Aotearoa were wiped off the map. Her home was already at war with them. But...perhaps there was something she’d be willing to try for.
Vai himself didn’t like the situation. If they didn’t address the cause of attacks like this, they might keep happening, which would end in even more death. But...to abandon his people? Again?
But the truth was staring him in the face. The Nikan were not afraid to throw yet more of their vast forces at Aotearoa. They would not surrender. Meaning his people would be enslaved to the empire if they couldn’t be fought.
“I’ll go with you," Vai sighed.
“What?” Shakti reeled back. "Vai, are you insane?”
“Think about it, Shakti. At the rate the Nikan are going...just think about Seang," Vai blurted out.
Shakti flinched, then glared at him. "I would reprimand you for using her name in such a way...if you weren’t correct.”
It was a low blow, but it was necessary to make Shakti really consider the consequence of a future under the Gongsun dynasty.
“Sorry," Vai muttered.
“Fine. I’ll go," Shakti turned to Najeem. "But if you go and drag us into something so stupid that our deaths are more guaranteed than they already are, I’m out. Got it?”
Najeem nodded.
Vai pulled on the sail rope, causing the boat to swivel around. He moved to keep pace with Mahu Kaeo’s boat. Obviously, they were the one sailing that canoe.
“Mahu!” Vai called to them. "I’m going to take Hokule’a north and travel with these people. To see if perhaps there is a way to draw the Nikan away from our waters.”
Kaeo nodded. "Safe travels, Vai. And may the gods bless your winds.”
“You too," Vai said before turning Hokule’a towards the bright constellation of the Twin Mantas and catching the wind.
He tied the sail once again.
“I still have some questions, though. Mainly regarding you two.” Vai looked pointedly at Lokapele and Shahla. "You said the Plague Scars weren’t...plague. Care to explain all that so I put my desire to throw you overboard to rest?”
“You can’t catch it from us unless you have the same potential as us," Lokapele said in Qahtanad, so everyone could understand. "And in that case, it won’t kill you. We are called Rangatire Rewera. Shedim Masters. They’ve existed for thousands of years and are often in legends and stories. What we do is often called magic. That’s not correct.”
“Then what is it? How else do you explain being able to will a volcano to erupt?” Shakti asked.
“We are masters over Elder Shedim," Lokapele said.
Vai frowned. He knew of Shedim. Water, Air, Earth and Fire Shedim were all commonly traded for and let people perform magic. But there was a very big difference between having an eternal lamp and chucking molten boulders at people.
Lokapele explained the concept of Shedim Mastery and how Elders differed from ordinary Shedim, including their...godhood?
“So we’re safe, right?” Vai asked.
“Unless you encounter one who cannot handle his Scars, yes.”
“Wait, so that means I’m going to be okay?” Shahla exclaimed.
“Did you not just hear me say yes?” Lokapele sighed. "Still, you should also find a better way to hide those scars.”
“How?” Shahla asked. "The headscarf was all I could think of. And I’m not getting a tattoo.”
“I can make a paste that’ll blend in with your skin. We performers use it all the time to cover up blemishes on our faces. It won’t cover it completely, but it should make it harder to be spotted. You can...”
Lokapele’s voice drained out of Vai’s mind as his eyes glued themselves to the roiling heavens.
“That’s if we make it to land," Vai said.
“Why wouldn’t we make it land?” Lokapele looked at him.
Vai pointed out across the sea at a dark cloud in the sky. "There’s a monsoon on the horizon. And we’re the only ones headed straight for it. Everyone tie yourself down. It’s gonna be a rough night.”