Chapters:

Chapter 1

-CHAPTER 1-

        Two beautiful twin moons shined down onto the world of Anastia. It was a vibrant and diverse world of two continents and vast oceans. The continents themselves were inhabited by many races and creatures both big and small. On the continent of Kadema, in the land of Treen, a man stood alone on a balcony, staring at the many stars above. It was a quiet, peaceful night. The man’s name was Markus of Etinaan. He was a man of conviction, morals, and loyalty. He believed in honor and justice. Above all, however, he believed in freedom.

        He was a legend among his fellow warriors and comrades, the Guardian Knights. The Guardian Knights were the protectors of Anastia, the seekers of the cruel and the harbingers of peace. Many people from different races came to Etinaan, the home of the Guardian Knights, to train and earn their place among some of the best warriors in the world. Markus, however, wasn’t your average Guardian Knight. He was one of the greatest. He was a humble man of simple pleasures. That was why, while his friends were inside, enjoying each other’s company, he was outside. He stared at the beautiful scenery and the heavens alike.

        The priests of the Hereafter taught that when a person died, their essence traveled beyond the stars themselves to a place where they received their Judgment by beings known as the Overseers. The Overseers transformed the essence into a spirit and sent it to its final resting place. Paradise awaited a truly selfless and self-sacrificing spirit. The Halls of the Hereafter awaits the honorable spirit. And for the cruel or selfish, a darker place awaited. Spirits of ill-intentions were sent to the Lost, the place of Never-Ending Fog, where the spirit was doomed to wander forever, lost and alone. These teachings were a part of the Book of the Mantan and were taught by holy men across the world.

        Markus didn’t believe in such a thing but he could understand and appreciate the comfort such a belief brought the good folk of the world. As Markus’ gaze shifted to the twin moons, footsteps approached him and drew his attention from the sky.  

        “Are you ready to come inside now?” asked a familiar and beautiful voice, “Or do you prefer not to eat tonight? Dinner is ready.” The voice belonged to Angila of Etinaan, though it was once of Andion. She had left her homeland many years earlier and had sought out Markus personally. She had requested to be trained as a Guardian Knight, and Markus, seeing the goodness and potential within the woman, agreed. Markus had always been happy about his decision. She had grown strong over the years and was considered the greatest Healer Knight of Etinaan. The man turned and faced his friend, a warm smile on his face.

        “Dinner is something that I’m not inclined to miss, especially when it’s with friends.” Angila returned a smile of her own.

        “You best come inside then, before it turns cold.” Markus nodded and followed behind his friend, eager to enjoy both the meal and the company.

        The city of Treen. It was a city built by miners and survived by their families. Part of the United Lands of Kadema, it had stood proudly for generations. But that was going to change. High General Arkin, a Gazan unlike his kin, stood watching, waiting. The city, while quiet and peaceful, harbored a secret, unknown to the people who inhabited it. To Arkin, it was something valuable, and it was something the general was prepared to kill for. Unbeknownst to the United Lands, who believed their enemies were scattered and powerless, the Exiles were still very much alive and ready to exact revenge.

        Nearly one hundred years earlier, the Guardian War had waged in Anastia, a war that lasted for nearly two decades between the continents of Kadema and Nodis. It was a war that had nearly been won by Arkin and his allies, but the sudden and unexpected death of Luxius, the former Master of the Exiles, dashed all hope and morale. It was a terrible loss, which had cost Nodis the war. Defeated and without enough manpower to turn the tide, Arkin had been the one who had decided to surrender fully to the enemy.

        Thus, He and several other high-ranking officers were forced to meet in Etinaan and signed the Treaty of Dukurn. It had declared the unconditional surrender of the Exile Military and demilitarized all remaining units. It also called for the release of all United Lands prisoners-of-war and released all Exile prisoners-of-war. It also stated that Nodis would remain under constant surveillance on any activities conducted by the governments of Nodis or its citizens. The United Lands also reserved the right to deploy and station the military within any land of Nodis, at any given time, with or without notice.

        It had been a wretched agreement forced onto Arkin and his people. It had also infuriated most inhabitants of Nodis. However, with the people’s will tattered and Nodis’ armies decimated, there was little that could have been done about it at the time. Forced to return home and watch his people become slaves to Kadema’s military, Arkin had vowed to avenge his home and his people. That time had finally arrived. The plan was set and all was going well. Arkin had slowly rebuilt the military and rekindled old alliances. Nodis’ revenge would begin on this night. He turned to two of his best soldiers. One was a beautiful female Gazan, named Vixona. The other was a male Sagorn, named Jakal.

Gazans and Sagorn were completely opposite, as far as their races were concerned. Gazans believed in the laws of nature. They shunned technology of the mechanical short and they were the tallest of all races. The average male Gazan is six foot, nine inches. The female averages six foot, three inches. They were strong too and could easily lift twice their body weight. Their most distinguishable physical attribute were their pointy-tipped ears, which complemented their features.

        Sagorn, however, were a different breed completely. Not just physically, but mentally. They were light in complexion with dark hair and even darker eyes. However, their most distinguished characteristic, were their sharp fangs. They worshiped the dark arts and willfully practiced the taboo Dark Techniques. They thrived in the darkness, and thus their homeland of Sagorn, was covered in a thick, dark, twisted forest full of horrible creatures, molded over time by the dark practices of the inhabitants.

        “Are you and your men ready?” Vixona was the first to answer, as she bowed respectfully.

        “Yes General. My men are ready and able to move out on your command.” Jakal chimed in immediately after his comrade.

        “As are mine, General.” Arkin nodded.

        “Then be off to it. You both know your targets. As soon as you accomplish your tasks, contact me immediately.” Both Jakal and Vixona acknowledged the General and went on their way. Arkin turned to another of his elite soldiers.

        “Krojel, be prepared to move your men out as soon as I give the order. I want our enemies to be dead before they realize what happened.” Krojel nodded. Krojel was by far, the most capable soldier under Arkin’s command. Cold, calculating, and cunning, he was more than willing to do his general’s bidding. Of course, it came easier to obey when it meant you had the opportunity to slay a people you despised more than anything. As a young man, Krojel had watched Lalandra Khandra cut down his father during battle. The boy traveled to the City of Koroon to join the Citizens Military of Nodis. He trained under another mighty general, named Rajel, and quickly rose through the ranks, as one of the best soldiers of the Exiles. Revenge was his motivation, and as Arkin and the others discovered, Krojel was very motivated.

        The man turned and exited the bridge of Arkin’s flagship, the EMCV (Exile Military Class Vessel) Lunar Mist. It was the strongest sea vessel of the Exile Navy. Outfitted with two main cannons capable of punching a hole through just about anything that could be built, as well as arrayed with dozens of multiple-firing cannons, capable of firing one hundred and twenty rounds per second, and built mainly of Alakoy Alloy, the strongest metal in the world, it was a power to be reckoned with.

Arkin returned his attention out the view port, as his navigator continued toward the edge of the river which would lead into Treen. The ship came to a stop and waited. After several moments passed, Arkin spotted several Sea Carriers. Each one contained a team with their own task, but with the same goal; the invasion of Treen. It would take a few hours to prepare, but nothing would stop the inevitable.

        Markus sat between Angila and Lalandra, both of whom, held a special place in the man’s heart. Lalandra Khandra was the third Chosen of the Khandra Bloodline, which tied her to the legendary weapon known as the Angels Blade. It had been a weapon forged by the Mericonians, brilliant craftsmen and engineers from the land of Merico, during the Guardian War. It was crafted as a weapon which would turn the tide of war for the United Lands of Kadema in their struggle against the tyrant Luxius and his band of military conquerors, known as the Exiles. During Kadema’s darkest hour, an honorable and courageous prince had been selected to wield the sword. As the Angels Blade itself had been given both life and intelligence, through the use of Techniques and technology, it had the ability to read both the heart and mind of Prince Tanor of Khandra and deemed him worthy to wield it.

        The sword, through the use of its extremely rare Attribute Stone, a mystical thing of power, heightened the prince’s senses, abilities, and attributes to a height far beyond the average being. The secret to the stone’s power lied in the hands of the Master Knights, who through the use of Mind, Will, Battle, and Energy Techniques, poured their own strength into it, thus enhancing the sword beyond even what the Mericonians had expected. With the Angels Blade in hand, Prince Tanor rallied the remaining allies of the United Lands, fought, and defeated the Exiles and their master.

        Tanor’s son, Shidon, was the second to carry the honor of wielding the Angels Blade. While he lived a life of peace, there was a time he too, had to carry the blade in the name of freedom and security. A band of disgruntled Exile fanatics, led by a charismatic human, named Devon, waged their own personal war against the Guardian Knights, in an attempt to get revenge for the Exile’s humiliating defeat and the death of their leader, Luxius. Though the group was able to cause some serious damage, some of which was irrevocable, Shidon and his friends had beaten back the enemy and ended their threat permanently. During the time of peace, Shidon moved to Treen, settled down and married.

        In time Shidon had a daughter, Lalandra, who grew into a strong and capable woman. When a race of fire worshiping humans, known as Phaizians, launched a surprise attack from their homeland of Phaiziar, nestled within the continent of Nodis, Lalandra was called upon and became the third Chosen One of Khandra. After the Phaizians successfully conquered Rune Coast, they believed they were now unstoppable, as a beachhead had been established. It was this line of thinking, which made them boldly attack the Mericonians. With the aid of Lalandra and their United Lands allies, the Mericonians were more than a match for their invaders.

        Taken back by the ferocity and skill of their allies, especially Lalandra, and a young Commander, named Clegg Versowsken, the Phaizians retreated back to Rune Coast. Lalandra and her allies pursued the invaders and pushed them back to Nodis, where a fleet of Exile ships waited for them. Believing that they had the element of surprise and superior forces, the Exiles opened fire onto Kadema’s fleet. However, like the Phaizians, the Exiles underestimated their enemy. They too were forced to retreat. The United Lands pressed forward and defeated their enemies, and thus, the short-lived Phaizian Crusade came to an end.

        Between Tanor, Shidon and Lalandra, the Khandra Bloodline had become legendary. Just as legendary, was the sword the Chosen One wielded. The Angels Blade, the Golden Sword of Justice, instilled both awe and terror into the people of Anastia. Because of their actions, those who became the Chosen One was believed to be the greatest hope for the world.

        Markus turned to Lalandra, as she spoke to him. “What do you think Markus?” she asked, “Do you think this is healthy for the baby?” Markus stared down at Lalandra’s plate, where a Drakkur Steak was.

        “Why would it not be healthy?” Markus asked.

        “It’s too fattening.” Despite Lalandra’s serious tone, Markus smiled. He put on his best sympathetic look and stared into Lalandra’s beautiful blue eyes.

        “I think that a steak in place of all of your...healthy food will do you and the baby some good.” Lalandra let out a heartfelt sigh.

        “Alright,” she replied, “Everyone else here agrees with you, so I’ll eat it just this one time. But no more until after the baby is born, deal?” Everyone at the table chuckled. Lalandra quickly cut a piece of the steak and chewed on it hungrily. Markus grinned.

        “For someone who wasn’t sure what to make of eating it, you sure are gobbling that down pretty quickly.” Lalandra swallowed her bite and shrugged.

        “What can I say?” she replied, “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good steak.” More chuckling came from the table. Angila grabbed a dinner roll and stared down at Lalandra’s belly.

        “I’m curious about something,” she said, “Why didn’t you want to know what your baby was?” Lalandra smiled.

        “Spyron and I wanted it to be a surprise.” For a moment, the table was silent. Finally, Markus’ good friend, the Master Councilor of the Guardian Knights, Rykin, cleared his throat.

        “He would have been proud to see how strong you’ve been.”

        “Indeed, he would have,” Markus agreed. There was another long pause. Lalandra smiled sadly.

        “I miss him. A lot.” Angila placed her hand on Lalandra’s shoulder.

        “We all do, but he’d be happy to know how well you’ve done.” Lalandra nodded. Markus smiled and stared into his friend’s eyes again.

        “And I know your baby will do great things. I have no doubt that they’ll bring honor to you and Spyron and make you both very proud.”

        Jakal waited patiently in the shadows, with a group of soldiers behind him. Somewhere to the north of his position, Vixona was with her men. Once she made contact, he would move. There were four military outposts in Treen, which housed lookout towers. Two were stationed to the north, where the road to the city was. The other two were the south, on the coast, where the seaport was. The outpost that Jakal was assigned to capture contained the communication tower. He would take it down, thus effectively cutting off all communication to the outside world.

        From there, he and the others would secure the outposts and cut off supplies and munitions to any military resistance. Once that was completed, Treen would easily fall. Jakal stared at the communication tower. It was arrayed with lights and several communication dishes. Several guards stood watch near the tower, but they were of little concern. The United Lands had grown soft over the past decade. The main reason behind that was the humiliating and utter defeat of both the Exiles and the Phaizians, during the Phaizian Crusade. Even someone as ruthless as Jakal had been shocked by the brutality shown to his allies at the hands of the United Lands. They had grown tired of the Exiles constant challenges to their sovereignty, and they had not held back in showing it.

        That reaction, however justified it may have been, had brought about more sympathy to the Exile’s cause, thus creating more soldiers for the Peoples Military of Nodis and more civilians ready to do their part for their kin and country. General Arkin had turned the people’s disgust and rage into a useful weapon, which was about to be unleashed. Jakal didn’t care about that though. His single desire was to sate his blood lust. He lived for violence. He craved the thrill of hunting his prey. Soon his desire would be granted. The Sagorn grinned, his sharp-toothed grin, in anticipation.

        A soft beep from his wrist comm, an audio communication device, brought the Sagorn out of his twisted thoughts. He activated he comm.

        “Jakal here,” he notified. Vixona’s voice came over the device.  

        “Everything is ready on my end. General Rajel and Commander Krojel are also in place. We await your signal to attack.”

        “Copy that,” Jakal responded, “I’ll report back once the tower is down.” Jakal turned to his men.

        “Wait here until I give you the command to move in.” Jakal’s men nodded. Satisfied, Jakal turned and quickly, but quietly headed toward his target. He stopped about a hundred yards from the outpost and peered through his scout viewer, a device capable of spotting distant people or objects. There wasn’t much activity within the place itself, though one of the towers was occupied. He’d have to move quickly, less he be spotted by the enemy. Jakal replaced his scout viewer with his dagger. The tip of it was laced with a special poison, which would paralyze and kill its victims within minutes. Of course, those last minutes would be the most agonizing moments of his victims’ lives.

        He broke out at a dead run. Despite his speed, his steps were barely whispers echoing out across the cold, dry ground. He leaped gracefully over the thin metal gate covered in barbs. He landed quietly and skillfully climbed the outside of the tower. His speed was incredible, as was his agility. These, along with his other qualities, are what made Jakal the best assassin in the world. Even as a young Sagorn, Jakal had been both feared and admired. In his dark home, the Sagorn Temple, he had bathed in the blood of his rivals. They had been other students like him, all of whom had been there since their infancy. As the years progressed, Jakal had gained the favor of the Temple Lords, the greatest users of the Dark Techniques.

        Eventually Jakal had been permitted to train under a Sagorn named Shivas, the greatest and strongest among the Temple Lords. Shivas shared all that he knew with his pupil, quickly transforming Jakal into a living weapon and creating the most feared Sagorn in all of Nodis. When Luxius, a warrior and conqueror of unmatched skill, asked the Sagorn to join his crusade against Kadema, Jakal had been more than willing. He knew that as long as he remained by the side of such a great warrior, he would always have plenty of people to kill.

        Jakal quickly leaped into the opening of the watchtower. Two men quickly turned in response, but Jakal was ready for them. He drove one of his daggers into the first soldier’s neck and tossed his other into the second man’s chest. Jakal stared gleefully into his victim’s eyes, as he choked on his own blood. Finally, when the man’s life was snuffed out completely, the assassin retracted his weapon from the man’s corpse. He glanced at the other corpse and grinned. That was two down, with a whole city to go.

He peered cautiously down at the men below him. There were four of them, all of whom were oblivious to their enemy’s presence. They talked amongst themselves, as one of the men headed toward the outpost’s barracks. Indeed, peace had made these soldiers very sloppy. He watched and waited patiently until the fourth soldier was out of site. Jakal leaped from the tower and landed in-between the soldiers. He ran his two daggers into the stomachs of two of the men. They both grunted in a combination of shock and pain. Before the third soldier could react, Jakal recovered both blades and rammed them into the man’s lower jaw simultaneously. Again, Jakal took great delight in watching his victim die.

        Jakal quickly moved into the communication tower building. Inside were two more soldiers. Both turned and quickly recognized the threat. Jakal threw one of his daggers into one of the men and leaped at the other. He threw his knee into the man’s face, knocking him back into the console behind him. The man grunted, but quickly recovered. However, he wasn’t quick enough to dodge Jakal’s follow through, as his dagger came down with a sickening crunch into the man’s skull. The soldier’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he collapsed to the ground. Jakal searched the console, found what he was looking for, and switched off the communication tower. He drove his daggers down into the sensitive equipment for good measure and activated his wrist comm. He opened the communication to Vixona, Rajel and Krojel.

        “This is Jakal. The tower is down.”

Vixona waited eagerly for Jakal to contact her. Her lips quivered with anticipation for revenge against the United Lands. She thought back to the time when she had once been a staunch ally to her enemy. It had been a different time, a time of peace and prosperity for her people. The Gazans homeland was Moraj. It was nestled within the protection of the Silver Peak Mountains, which surrounded the natural formed city. The only way into the city, was through the huge wall which connected the large gap of the mountains. The city was built within the forests of the land. Hundreds of thousands of acres of woods full of bounty and wildlife provided the Gazans with all they had ever needed.

        When Vixona was a young, a rebellion had broken out. The leader of the Gazans, Master Gazan Greeve, had become ill. His successor would be a young Gazan named Gin. However, a charismatic Gazan named Kor, believed that Gin was too weak and ignorant to lead the Gazans, so he openly opposed the Master Gazan’s choice. This had led to war among the Gazans for the first time in the history of Vixona’s people. She and her friend Arkin were close to Master Gazan Greeve and fought hard against their brethren to bring a swift end to the civil war.

        Once Greeve had died due to his illness, Gin had taken his place. The Gazan had wasted no time in calling on the aid of the United Lands in their time of plight. At first there had been bickering, but in the end, those who followed Gin agreed that they desperately needed the help. That was when Vixona had first met Luxius. The man had been impressive. He and his companions quickly turned the war in their favor. However, Luxius had lost those close to him and it had affected him terribly. The man had begun to change. He turned from warrior to killer, hunting down the last remaining rebelling Gazans. He had been arrested by those he considered his friends. The Council of Knights had condemned his actions, stripped him of his rank and had exiled him from their homeland. Angered by his mistreatment, Luxius had worked for years for his chance to exact revenge. Both Vixona and Arkin, who believed that Luxius was a hero, had forsaken their people and followed the man willingly. Vixona’s wrist comm beeped.

        “This is Jakal, the tower is down.” That was her cue. She turned to her men.

        “Move in quietly. Kill any you encounter but keep on me at all times.” The men nodded. Vixona quickly headed toward the outpost. She waited, as her men tore through the metal fence, while keeping a sharp lookout for the enemy. Once there was an opening, she took the lead again. She motioned for two groups to occupy the towers. The soldiers broke into their groups and quickly made their way up. A moment later, both towers gave the all-clear. Vixona turned to her remaining men.

        “Follow me. The Gazan headed toward the barracks. The soldiers with her spotted two enemies and quickly used their suppressor rifles to take them out silently. Vixona waited just outside the entrance of the bunker. Her men moved into position behind her, as she carefully peered inside. Several men were sitting at their table, playing Kliskan Bluff, a game of both skill and luck. One of the soldiers whispered at Vixona.

        “We have the element of surprise,” he said, “Give the command and we’ll handle these idiots quickly.” Vixona shook her head.

        “No,” she replied, “I’ll handle these fools myself.” Vixona entered the barracks, while her men kept an eye out for wandering soldiers. The men inside, so distracted by their game, hadn’t realized that they had an uninvited guest, until Vixona was practically hovering over them. When the men did notice her, they quickly stood to their feet. Vixona stared seductively at the soldiers, as they stared back with curiosity.

        “You boys look like you’re having a good time,” the Gazan purred, “Do you mind if I join you?” As one of the soldiers took a step toward the intruder, Vixona threw her foot hard into the man’s stomach. He grunted, stumbled back, tripped over his chair, and crashed hard onto the ground. The other two soldiers went to retaliate, but Vixona was already on the move. She tossed an assassin’s blade into the chest of her first victim, then leaped over the table, wrapped her legs around the man’s neck and plunged another blade into the man’s temple. Both men toppled to the ground, lifeless. Vixona turned to the man she had stunned. He groaned weakly, as he slowly made his way back to his feet. He pulled out his military-issued combat knife and charged forward. He swung at his enemy, but the Gazan was too quick. Years of training and combat experience had allowed her take on any opponent, regardless of size or strength.

        Vixona stepped back, as the man’s blade missed her throat by inches. The soldier attempted a second strike. Again, Vixona side stepped the attack, which caused her enemy to stumble forward awkwardly. He grunted in frustration, turned, and lunged at the Gazan again. This time, Vixona caught the man by his wrist and flipped him onto his back. She jerked the man’s arm violently, causing him to flip onto his stomach. Vixona held her enemy’s arm in place, as she brought her boot down onto his face. She pulled the man’s body up by his arm, instantly snapping his neck. She released his arm and headed back out the way she came in. Her men waited patiently, as she stepped back outside.

        “All clear.” One of the soldiers, a female, who had witnessed Vixona’s scuffle, grinned.

        “You sure have a way with rowdy men.” Vixona smiled back at the woman.

        “You have no idea.” Vixona took the lead once again, as she and the others kept hidden in the shadows. According to the intelligence Arkin had received each outpost contained twenty men, two of which were officers. Her men had killed six in the towers and she had killed three. That left eleven more. She needed to kill them and give the all-clear to her comrades. She turned to her men.

        “Two of you on me. The rest of you spread out into groups of three. Seek out and kill anyone you encounter. Report back in within twenty minutes on your progress. Go.” The soldiers saluted their commander and moved out, save for the female soldier who spoke earlier and a male. They followed the Gazan, as she moved to the west side of the outpost. She searched for signs of enemy life. There, up ahead, was an administrative office. Vixona was willing to bet that’s where the officers were. She quietly made her way to the building, with her soldiers close behind. Vixona peered into the window. There were several rooms, but the building itself looked vacant. Vixona knew better, even at this hour of night, there was someone in there. She just had to find them.

        Vixona pulled out a small device. She attached the small metallic object to the window and activated it with a click of a button. The device hummed to life and glowed softly. A moment later it began to heat the glass behind it. After a few more moments it melted a hole wide enough for Vixona and her men to pass through. The device fell to the ground with the molten glass and deactivated. Vixona passed through the opening first. She quickly looked around and motioned for her men to follow her. She quickly walked toward the first room and opened the door. It was empty, save for your typical everyday office equipment.

        She quietly shut the door, and as she headed toward the next room, the door opened and out stepped one of the officers she was looking for. He was a young lieutenant, with blonde hair and dark eyes. He immediately noticed Vixona and the others and drew his pistol. As he aimed it, Vixona kicked his hands up. The man fired a round into the ceiling. Vixona cursed in her native tongue. That was going to get everyone’s attention. She threw another kick, dislodging the man’s weapon from his grip. She followed through with another solid kick to the lieutenant’s chest, knocking him to the ground.

        The door of the adjacent room flew open and out stepped a second officer, a middle-aged general and two other soldiers. Vixona’s men immediately opened fire. Bullets tore into the general and one of the other soldiers. Vixona ripped her dagger into her attacker’s stomach. He cried out and collapsed. The other soldier, who had been with the general, quickly retreated back into the room, desperate to get behind cover. He peered around the corner and opened fire, striking the male soldier in his chest and leg. He yelped and fell back. Vixona leaped into the other room and out of harm’s way.

        “Man down!” yelled the female soldier, as she returned fire, striking the wall near her enemy. Arkin would be furious if he knew how sloppy Vixona had been. The Gazan seethed with rage at her misfortune. She knew that Jakal would be laughing gleefully at her peril. She could almost feel his smug pleasure. Vixona pulled out a blinding capsule and threw it.

        “Watch your eyes!” She warned her comrade. The capsule flew near the enemy’s face, as he attempted another attack. It exploded in a white flash, instantly blinding and disorienting the man. He cried out and stumbled back, as he rubbed his eyes in frantic desperation. Vixona went on the offensive. She ran up to the man and plunged her dagger into the man’s skull. He was dead before he hit the ground. Vixona turned, as the female soldier walked in the room behind her.

        “The other rooms are clear.” Vixona nodded. A moment later her wrist comm beeped.

        “Report.”

        “This is team one. We encountered two soldiers. Both were eliminated.” Another beep came in.

        “Report.”

        “This is team two. We encountered three men. All were eliminated.” A final beep from the last team chirped.

        “Report.”

        “This is team three. We encountered two men and a civilian. All were dealt with.”

        “Good job teams,” Vixona replied. Rendezvous on my position. We will wait here for the next phase to begin.” The teams confirmed their orders and Vixona deactivated her comm. She turned to find the female soldier tending to her wounded comrade.

        “He’s gone,” she said, as she looked up at Vixona. The Gazan nodded.

        “We have to leave him for now. We’ll come back for him so that he may have a proper funeral. I promise.” The woman nodded her appreciation.

        “Thank you.”

        Arkin waited patiently to hear back from his men. If all went according to plan, his enemies would be taken by complete surprise and offer little resistance. The General was excited, he had to admit. He knew that this was the beginning of the end of his enemies. After all the defeats, all the humiliation, he and his people would finally have their revenge. Not even the wretched Guardian Knights would be able to withstand the coming storm. They would be crushed and scattered to the wind, as would all the enemies of Nodis. A chirp came from the console in front of him. He pressed a button and spoke.

        “This is General Arkin. Is Phase One complete?” General Rajel came over the comm.

        “Phase One is complete. You may begin Phase Two, General.” Arkin smiled and opened the comm channel to his fleet of ships.

        “This is High General Arkin. Open fire.”

        Markus lay in bed, as he stared at the ceiling. Over the past several months, his nights had been restless. This was due to the loss of his dear friend, Spyron. Although his death was difficult to bear, Markus knew it had impacted his wife, Lalandra, much more. Markus had blamed himself for Spyron’s death, but Lalandra was quick to scold him. She never believed it was his fault, nor would she ever. Despite the death of her husband, Lalandra had pressed on for the sake of her unborn baby.

        Markus, however, in his grief, wanted revenge. Spyron had been more than his friend, he had been his Mentor. The man had taught Markus everything about being a Guardian Knight. They had fought side-by-side in many battles. Together, they had stared into the face of death and survived where it was thought impossible. They had believed they were not destined for death in battle. An assassin’s blade had changed that.

        So, with two strong allies by his side, Markus went on a manhunt across the lands of both Kadema and Nodis. In the end, the trail went cold and Spyron’s killer could not be found. That had bothered Markus tremendously, but the promise he had made to his dying friend had strengthened his resolve. He would protect Lalandra and her child until the day he took his last breath. That was his purpose. Markus knew that whoever had killed Spyron did so to get to Lalandra. Markus would not allow his enemies to finish what they had started.

        Night after night, Markus had used a Rejuvenation Technique to replenish his lost energy. One night Angila had discovered what Markus was doing and had scolded him deeply for it. She had warned him that too much use of the Technique could cause his heart to fail. She had told him that there was no better remedy for weariness than sleep. So Markus had tried, and tried, and tried… to no avail. In the end, the Technique was his only option.

        The man didn’t worry too much about it, however. Every Master Knight was given the privilege to learn one of the most powerful Healing Techniques, Cell Regeneration. It allowed them to retain not only their youth, but their health. Outside of being mortally wounded, it was very difficult for a Master Knight to die, especially by issues concerning health. Markus sighed. As Markus pondered his thoughts, Spyron’s final words echoed into his mind. “Markus, promise me that no matter what happens you’ll keep Lalandra and the baby safe. Markus promise me...”

        A sudden knock at his door, broke Markus from his thoughts.

        “Markus are you awake?” It was Lalandra. Markus got up from his bed, switched the light on and opened his door. Lalandra stared at him with a cheerful smile and two glasses of a steaming liquid, which Markus presumed was a herbal tea of sorts.

        “Is everything okay?” Markus asked with concern. Lalandra nodded.

        “Yes,” she replied, “May I come in?” Markus nodded and stepped aside, allowing his friend to enter. She placed the two glasses down on the nightstand. She sat down on Markus’ bed and looked up at the man.

        “I thought you might be awake, so I decided to bring you some tea. It’s very good. I think you’ll like it.” Markus approached his friend, as she handed him his glass.

        “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He asked. Lalandra shrugged. I’ll go to bed shortly. I was hoping to keep you company for a few, seeing as you don’t sleep anyway.” Markus winced.

        “You know about that?” Lalandra nodded. Angila told me. She is worried about you, as am I.” Markus smiled and reached for his friend’s hand.

        “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll come to terms with me grief in time.” Lalandra shook her head.

        “You’ll only come to terms with it once you stop blaming yourself,” she said softly. Markus was silent.

        “You can’t continue to carry a weight on your shoulders that you shouldn’t be bearing in the first place. You have done nothing wrong. Stop blaming yourself, please.” Markus swallowed hard. He looked up at his friend, as she stared into his eyes. She had the look of determination. She would not let Markus wither away in self-pity.

        “I’ll try,” he said finally. Lalandra shook her head.

        “That’s not good enough Markus,” she replied sternly, “You are my friend. I love you and I don’t want you doing this to yourself anymore. You need to stop.” Lalandra’s words hit Markus like a heavy blow to his stomach. He held his breath for a moment and finally nodded. He leaned over and embraced his friend.

        “I love you too Lalandra. Thank you.” Lalandra smiled. Suddenly, the room’s light turned off. Markus and Lalandra both looked up.

        “Wonder what happened to the power?” Markus got up and walked to his window. He peered outside. The entire city was without power.

        “Something must have happened to the main power generators.” Lalandra got up and joined her friend.

        “That’s odd,” she remarked. Markus nodded.

        “Very.” As the two peered out the window, an explosion erupted in the distance, followed by several more.

        “By the Abyss, Treen’s under attack!” Markus and Lalandra moved quickly. He headed to Rykin’s room, while Lalandra went to Angila’s. Rykin opened his door before Markus could. The man nearly bumped into his friend.

        “You saw it?!” Rykin asked. Markus nodded. The two entered Angila’s room, as she was being awoken by Lalandra.

        “Is it the Exiles?!” Angila asked. Markus nodded.

        “More than likely.” Rykin took the lead, as the four headed out of Lalandra’s home.

        “We need to get her out of here!” Markus said, as he motioned toward Lalandra.

        “No.” Lalandra replied,” I’ll go. You three go do what you can to help.” Markus shook his head.

        “No. I made a promise to Spyron. I’m not leaving you alone.” Rykin nodded.

        “Very well. Markus get Lalandra to safety. Angila and I will go. We’ll keep in contact.” Markus nodded.

        “Be careful you two,” he said.

        “You as well,” replied Angila. The two Guardian Knights went to move, but Lalandra cried out in pain. They both quickly turned, as the woman held her belly. A clear liquid poured from her nightgown. Her water had broken. Markus swallowed hard. The timing could not have been worse. Rykin, seeing the seriousness of the situation nodded somberly.

        “New plan; Markus, carry Lalandra. Angila and I will cover you. We’ll help get her to safety and then return.”          

        General Rajel hurried through the chaotic streets of Treen. Burning buildings lit up the night sky as far as the man could see. People screamed in terror and stumbled over atop of each other, as they scrambled desperately to escape their inevitable fate. Behind the General followed a unit of the most elite soldiers under his command. They were efficient and deadly. For years, the Exiles had suffered at the hands of the United Lands. This night would mark an end to that. Nothing would stand in the way of Rajel or any other of his people. The time of revenge was at hand. Several Treen soldiers attempted to halt the General, but his men quickly dealt with the nuisance.

        After a few more moments of traversing the city streets, Rajel and his men came upon what they sought. A huge mining site lay before them. The General wasted no time, as he quickly navigated the narrow stairway to the mines below. Several buildings were scattered across the area, along with various mining equipment and vehicles. Rajel quickly headed toward the nearest mine. He turned to his soldiers.

        “I want two of you with me,” he ordered, “The rest of you fan out and secure the area.” The men saluted the General and made haste. Two soldiers followed Rajel, as he headed inside the mine. Lights built into the mine across its top, illuminated the path in front of Rajel. He moved cautiously through the winding tunnel. He stopped once he noticed that the mine split into two paths.

        Rajel focused his mind and listened. A moment later, he took the path to the left. There were people ahead. The Technique he used allowed him to sense it. They were unaware of what transpired outside their work area. That was fine. That would make them easier to capture. Capture, just like Phenomeus had been easy to capture at one point. Phenomeus was once a strong ally and friend to Rajel. The two had fought to gain favor in the eyes of Luxius, who had come to their homeland of Andion, looking for allies in his quest against Kadema. Alongside Angila, the warrior princess, Phenomeus and his brother She, Rajel and the others had quickly gained a reputation for being the best warriors in the land.

When the time came for Phenomeus to show his allegiance, he had sided with Angila who had betrayed her kingdom and her people. Phenomeus had paid dearly for his treachery. As he rotted in the dark, a prisoner and a lab rat to Luxius and his Sagorn, Rajel’s brother, Shen, had freed the man, betraying Rajel in the process. Every day Rajel thought about the betrayal, and every day he awaited the time that he would cross paths with both outcasts, so that he could return their treachery back onto them. He wasn’t sure where the two had escaped, but one day he would discover their secret.

        The clanking of pickaxes against stone caught the man’s attention. He halted his men and peered around the corner. A group of men worked tirelessly, as they chipped chunk after chunk of the rock away and loaded it into the mine carts. The General retrieved his pistol and motioned for his men to follow. Rajel took several steps toward the miners and raised his weapon.

        “All of you drop your tools and put your hands above your head!” The miners froze for a moment, before turning toward the trespasser. Rajel narrowed his eyes.

        “Do it! Now!” he barked. The miners dropped their equipment and raised their hands into the air. Rajel motioned the men to his right.

        “Line up against the wall.” The miners did as instructed.

        “Which one of you is the foreman?” A man, who was sturdy and tall, stepped forward.

        “That would be me,” he replied in a deep voice, appropriate for his size. The General motioned for the man to come forward, which the miner did.

        “I need to know what you’ve mined so far.” The miner, who was clearly confused, finally shook his head and shrugged.

        “What you would expect to find in a mine,” he replied bluntly, “mostly coal, but occasionally something more valuable.”

        “Like Attribute Stones?” The miner said nothing but nodded in response.

        “Have you found any odd stones?” Rajel asked. Again, the miner shrugged.

        “You mean something more valuable than an Attribute Stone?” Growing impatient, Rajel frowned.

        “Yes!” he hissed. The miner shook his head.

        “Nothing unusual. Though, I’m not an expert. You’d have to talk to the Mericonians if you want to know about the ins and outs.” The General’s wrist comm chirped. He quickly activated it.

        “This is General Rajel,” he responded, “Report.”

        “Sir all units have reported in. The mines are secure,” the soldier on the other end informed, “Instructions?”

        “Have you encountered anyone?” Rajel asked.

        “Yes sir. We have all known personnel in custody.” While Rajel continued to stare at the foreman, he nodded his approval.

        “Good,” he replied, “Kill them. When you are done, hold your position.” The foreman’s eyes went wide from shock and terror.

        “Copy that, General.” Rajel deactivated his comm and shot the foreman in the head. The man’s eyes rolled back, as he struck the hard ground. The other miners responded with various curses. The General turned to his soldiers.

        “Kill them all.”  

Markus stared down at Lalandra, as she winced in pain. It had been nearly two hours since Treen had been invaded by the Exiles. Somewhere outside, Rykin was fighting alongside the other brave souls who were doing everything they could to protect their home and those whom they loved. Markus had wanted to go with Rykin, but Lalandra begged for him and Angila to stay with her. Seeing her distress, and remembering his promise to Spyron, Markus agreed. Markus had sent some men out in an attempt to get word to their allies that they were under attack. He was hoping that reinforcements would be coming soon.

        Markus and Angila took care to stay back, as the doctor and her nurses tended to their friend. Lalandra cried out in pain again, as the doctor reached for her patient.

        “Lalandra, I need you to push.” The young woman cried out again and grunted as she pushed with all of her might. After a few seconds, she gasped and fell back onto her pillow. Lalandra breathed heavily, as the doctor inspected her.

        “I can see the head. I need you to push one more time!” Markus moved forward and offered his hand to his friend. She took it, squeezed hard and pushed. She cried out one more time, as the doctor introduced the baby to the world. Tears welled up in Lalandra’s eyes, as the baby let out a cry of confusion.

        “It’s a girl!” the doctor announced. She and her nurses worked quickly to clean and cover the baby. The doctor moved around the bed and gently handed Lalandra the baby. Tears rolled down the woman’s cheek, as she laughed.

        “She’s so beautiful.” She said with tenderness, as she gently rubbed her baby’s cheek. The infant was comforted by the soothing sound of her mother’s voice and her touch. She quickly calmed down and fell asleep in her mother’s arms.

        The doctor examined her patient and looked over at one of her nurses.

        “We’re not done yet,” she said. Markus, Angila and Lalandra turned to the woman.

        “What do you mean?” Lalandra asked, “Are you saying I’m carrying twins?” The doctor nodded.

        “Precisely,” she replied, “Sir, could you take the baby?” Markus nodded and gently took the infant. He handed the baby to Angila and then grabbed Lalandra’s hand again. A few moments later, the pain hit Lalandra. She cried out and groaned.

        “Alright, Lalandra, I’ll need you to push.” Lalandra screamed and pushed. After a few seconds she rested. The young woman continued the process a few more times until another infant cried out.

        “It’s a boy!” the doctor announced with a smile. Lalandra breathed heavily, as the doctor and her nurses cleaned and dressed the baby. The doctor brought the infant to Lalandra and helped him into his mother’s arms. Lalandra stared down at her son, as more tears welled up. Angila approached her friend and gently placed the baby girl into her free hand. As the doctor and the nurses cleaned up, Markus and Angila stared at their friend and her children.

        “What will you name them?” Markus asked. Lalandra smiled in response and looked down at the girl first.

        “I’m going to name the girl Syrra after my great-grandmother. She was a wonderful woman who always helped those in need.

        “And the boy?” asked Markus.

        “Spyron always liked the name Mikiel.” Markus nodded.

        “Both are fine names,” he replied. As Lalandra continued to admire her newborn babies, Markus couldn’t shake the irony of the situation around them. Outside these walls and within the city of Treen, many were fighting and dying. Yet, despite the death and destruction, new life had found its way into the world, and through that life, hope.

(End of the first chapter and the sample).