(OOC: It's been a long while, I know, but Chapter Nine is out! I hope I can be writing more now. I've had a lot of stuffs going on, and other things have taken preference to writing, and even gaming (WHAT?!). :P You haven't seen the last of me! You will one day when I'm pushing up the daisies, but that's a worry for another time. :P)

Chapter Nine: New Recruits and New Alliances

Mono opened the door of Grub’s house and staggered in before falling to the floor. Alisa and Pop turned and stared at the panting knight. “What’ve you been doing?” Pop asked. “Those new recruits been hassling you?”

“There might only be six of them, but they’ve got some skill,” he replied. “I dueled each of them until I could best them. It ended as a game of endurance. Actua’s Area Protection Shield was too much for me to get through, so I had to stop before I tired myself to death.”

“You said Ryker suggested that she join his squad, as Xervenzør was lost, right?” Alisa asked. “You think she’s good enough to be a veteran?”

“Oh yes,” Mono said. “Where’s Grub at?”

“He said he was heading to the mercenary outpost to speak with Sophia about her draft of the alliance,” Pop explained. “She might return with him, but until then, I guess we can wait here.”

“Hello? Is this Grub’s house?” a person asked from outside the house. He knocked on the door multiple times, until Pop opened it.

Rezule, Z’Raejum’kal, and Old Snag walked in the door, smiling to Mono. “We just came to get familiar with your policies. It’s been a while since we’ve talked, hasn’t it?”
Rezule said.

“I suppose it has,” Mono replied. “I guess you had more luck with the jury than I did. Was the trial done fairly? Did you have a defense?”

“Yeah, I did,” Rezule answered. “Feron helped me pay for the best defense attorney here. The prosecution was lousy, as it normally is with the Spiral Order. I guess you were able to put up a good fight?”

“Well, some of Ozlo’s arguments were valid, but they wouldn’t warrant a death sentence,” Alisa said. “The jury was bribed. Even though we were clearly innocent on the charges of murder, and just as guilty on the charges of disobeying orders and the destruction of property, most juries would have said innocent of all charges, just because we killed Xerxes.”

“How much did Ozlo bribe the jury?” Z’Raejum’kal asked.

“I heard fifty thousand a piece,” Pop told him. “That makes one million for the whole jury bribe, which is absolutely insane for the amount of damage we actually did.”

“That’s pretty bad…” Old Snag commented quietly.

“Indeed it is,” Rezule said. “Anyway, what are the rules of this special forces regiment? Same as the others, or are you going to be a different kind of leader?”

“Well, I have decided that most rules should still apply,” Mono answered. “But there was a problem that I noticed before I was left for dead in the Underworld. Lower level warriors were unable to object to orders. Even sergeants couldn’t object to suicide missions. I know the captains were able to provide constructive criticism to their lieutenants, but even they might not have an understanding of everything, let alone the sacrifices some sergeants and their squads would have to make. Many fell unnecessarily because they were unable to speak out. So in the Warriors of Old, anyone is allowed to speak out against an unfair or stupid order.”

“That is often the case with special forces regiments,” Old Snag said. “Even the lowest soldiers are given a fair hearing, because they had to be respected to get into the regiment in the first place. Is this going to apply to all the regiments, or are you not in charge of the entire military?”

“Feron is the official military leader, but he does not have power over my regiment,” Mono explained. “I suggested this to him, and he said he would use my idea. Vaelyn is in charge of the aerospace field, but she has little power anymore. She does have a regiment of engineers and technicians that can fight well, though. Wegner is still in charge of all geologic operations, and, as the Captain, Feron has all the legal responsibilities.”

“I assume you are not as formal as any other regiments?” Z’Raejum’kal said. “Are you more willing to accept people in than the others, even if they are not properly trained and have to be in a squad of three or five because of that?”

“Oh yes, we accept anyone that has fighting potential,” Pop replied. “Mono isn’t technically a Vanguard and I don’t think Rezule is either, and Lokd, you, and Old Snag haven’t received any training from the Spiral Order, is that right?”

Everyone nodded their head in agreement.

“Wait, Old Snag, what can you do for a squad?” Alisa asked. “Any magicks?”

“I have some training in the dark magic,” Old Snag replied. “I can also act as a necromancer if the need is dire, and I am fluent in the Language of the Scholars, and most Owlite magicks.”

“Are you three a squad already?” Mono asked.

“Yeah, but we have another knight with us,” Z’Raejum’kal said. “Dogref. We like him, but he isn’t the best fighter out there. He’s not a drag, though, no worries.”

Mono was about to say something, but the door of the house opened, revealing Grub and Sophia. “Hello!” he hailed them. “Sophia, I assume you brought the draft of our alliance?”

“I have, and I already made some compromises that I assumed you would demand,” she answered. “To sum it up, we each have a little bit of power over each other’s guilds, but of course, I cannot order your troops to do something that you don’t want them to do, and vice versa.”

“So if, per se, some of my warriors are with you, you would have power over them, but my rules would still apply?” Mono asked. “If you want to have a look at the rules I developed, Alisa wrote them out a few days ago. If you have your own rules, I would like a copy.”

“Yeah, I have some things written down,” Sophia replied, pulling an old piece of paper from her pocket. “I just scratched down a few ideas, but I suppose they’re also on your list of rules.”

The two leaders quickly swapped lists and analyzed them. Mono, Grub, Alisa, and Pop approved of all of Sophia’s proposed rules, but they were not as comprehensive as theirs.

“Mono, what do you mean by ‘Any soldier will be allowed to speak out against unfair or unthoughtful orders’?” Sophia asked suddenly.

“If one of us, or anyone, gives an order that will put lower level soldiers in unnecessary danger, they are allowed to speak out against it,” Mono replied. “This is to stop any suicide missions that could have been avoided with the same end result.”

“I think I can agree on that,” Sophia said. “But don’t you think cowards will use that to get out of doing anything remotely risky?”

“If they were cowards, they wouldn’t be here in the first place,” Mono countered. “By nature, war is risky, and there will be casualties. I trust that my men understand that. When I first began recruiting, I told everyone that the chances of survival were extremely low, but most of us scraped out in the end. I assume you trust your own as such?”

“I believe they would fight until the last ounce of life left their bodies,” Sophia responded with a threatening tone in her voice.

“Good,” Mono said. “If you have confidence in your soldiers, they will have confidence in you. And, if you do not feel as confident in the Warriors of Old as I do, why don’t you come outside and we can spar with a few of them?”

“I see no harm in doing so,” she replied. “Assuming we all set our weapons to stun-mode? I don’t want anyone getting killed.”

“Of course,” Mono agreed. He stood up to address Old Snag, Z’Raejum’kal, and Rezule, who were talking on a couch on the other side of the room. “Do you guys want to come with the rest of us to spar out on the eastern field?”

Old Snag made a noise resembling a chuckle before saying, “We’ll come, but I had better not participate otherwise it would be no fun for anyone.”

!#-^*^-#!

Mono stood beside Actua, Pop, Jacques, and Z’Raejum’kal, staring down their oppents, Alisa, Grub, Sophia, Rezule, and Ven on the other side of the field. Everyone proceeded to set their weapons to stun-mode.

Once everyone was ready, the two teams stared at each other menacingly. Pop was the first to move. He projected himself into the air and fired a hail of bullets onto the enemies. Everyone but Sophia dove to the ground, but she fiercely shot Pop out of the sky.

Mono and Actua threw themselves right into the enemy lines, only to be met by Grub, Rezule, and Ven fiercely defending themselves. Alisa was stunned behind them, while Sophia fired continuously at Jacques, who had managed to flank her and was advancing swiftly.

Actua stunned Rezule, but Ven’s twin silver blades were impossible for her to ward off. She quickly fell, leaving Ven open from behind. Z’Raejum’kal was able to stun him with his blue trident while his back was turned.

Meanwhile, Grub and Mono were fencing with their Barbarous Thorn Blades as they had many years before. Neither could gain the upper hand, until Sophia joined in with Grub. She had just knocked out both Z’Raejum’kal and Jacques.

Mono dodged a volley of bullets from her, while sheathing his own blade, only to draw a Gilded Griffin. One shot to the chest stopped Grub dead in his tracks. He turned to Sophia, who was now twenty yards away, and firing rapidly.

Mono raised his shield in an effort to stop the bullets from hitting him. For one brief second, he lowered the shield to fire back at Sophia. During this time, one of her bullets struck him in the stomach, knocking him out. But he was not without success. The one shot that he managed to fire at Sophia hit her diaphragm less than a centimeter beneath her sternum. They flew backwards simultaneously, and when their limp forms crashed to the ground, a thud could be heard all over the field.

!#-^*^-#!

Mono’s eyes slowly opened to Sophia’s own luminous yellow eyes. “Good… game…” was all he could muster up the energy to say.

Chapter Ten: Official Soldiers

Pteron pointed to a small patrol of Darkwalkers and gremlins camped in a ravine in front of his squad. The squad consisted of Ven Kumonai, Wolfen, and Krenfeld. Krenfeld was the guardian, and the others were strikers, while Pteron lead as a gunner and tactician. “Don’t attack ‘em yet,” he whispered. “We might be able to, er, extract certain information from those furry beasts.”

One of the gremlins took his head up from the campfire before them to speak to the largest gremlin in the group. “Sir, when are we going to go have fun with those Sforzandosi fools?” he asked curiously.

The largest gremlin, who Pteron assumed was the leader, chuckled before saying, “Soon enough. Remember, our orders are not to kill. We merely have to either bribe them or threaten them somehow. I do not expect resistance, but we must be careful.”

He wore a black armored robe with the Crimson Order’s insignia on it. Pteron was automatically worried for the knights of Sforzandosi.

“But didn’t you receive a letter from Clemente about agreeing on terms of something or other? Surrender? Or was it alliance? I forget…” another gremlin inquired.

“You’re not supposed to know that, let alone say anything about it,” the leader warned him. “You never know when those Spiral Order folks could be listening in, be it Warriors of Old or even members of Sforzandosi.”

Pteron smiled to his squadmates at this news and whispered to Ven, “Go back to Mono and warn him of this. He might want to intercept this little group and give ‘em more than they bargained for.”

“Will he believe us?” Krenfeld asked. “I doubt he would acknowledge this sort of question of authority.”

“Remember the rules?” Pteron pointed out. “We can speak up, even though we are Sophia’s lessers. Calling out dangerous leadership is something Mono believes to be every soldier’s right. We are official soldiers of the Spiral Order after all, and Sophia isn’t, so by their rules this is totally fine as well.”

Ven nodded understanding before he turned around and whisked away into the trees toward Haven.

!#-^*^-#!

Mono fired his Gilded Griffin at the holographic targets that appeared before him at the shooting range. He turned around, ready to shoot the next one that appeared, but instead of a practice target, he found his barrel to be pointed right between Ven Kumonai’s eyes. “Woah, sorry there,” he said to Ven went he realized that he had almost pulled the trigger. “Don’t sneak up on me again, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry about that, but I’ve got urgent news,” he panted out, for he had to run part of the way back to Haven, as his ankle boosters had given out on him. “My squad just found out that Sophia… Might not be as trustworthy as you think. She requested to speak with some sort of gremlin diplomat. He was from the Crimson Order, and he looked like more of a brutal killer than a diplomat.”

“The gremlin’s idea of diplomacy typically involves corruption, bribery, and blackmail. Why does that not surprise me?” Mono responded. “Why don’t I send out Vipsania’s squad and another lower squad to help your squad take care of the gremlins, while I can go confront Sophia with a ready fighting force? I’m not expecting a fight, but if that’s what it comes to, I’ll be more than willing to destroy her. For the sake of the Spiral Order, that is.”

!#-^*^-#!

Pteron’s squad were still overlooking the ravine when the reinforcements came. Ven had arrived a few minutes beforehand, and they were not surprised to see Vipsania and Cat emerge from the trees, leading another squad of soldiers. “It’s good to see you guys!” Wolfen exclaimed quietly. “The gremlins are asleep right now, so we can easily storm their camp, especially with these numbers.”

“I honestly thought you guys would never make it!” Pteron said. “It might’ve been dusk when we sent for help, but now you only have moonlight.”

“We’ve got a scanner that gave us your exact location,” Vipsania explained. “That’s one of the perks of being an official soldier of the Spiral Order and not just a Warrior of Old. Anyway, what’s the plan of attack, or is that what I’m here for?”

“I’ve got a plan all thought out,” Pteron replied. “Your first order is to come with me down to the bottom of that ravine. The rest shall become obvious once it is set in motion.”

Lokd looked doubtfully at the ravine and remarked that there was no obvious way down.

Pteron smiled to him and beckoned for everyone to follow him silently down the ravine’s edge. Eventually, they reached a twist in the ravine. It also got wider, although no one but Pteron was willing to look over the edge. “I hope you know how to swim,” was all he said before jumping off the wall. He managed to enter the water gracefully, although his movement in air was anything but that.

The water was slightly warm, due to the volcanic activity present underneath the ravine. The pond was hundreds of feet deep, but not very wide. Pteron assumed that an ancient earthquake had caused this sinkhole within the wide gash in the ground. He quickly swam to solid ground and beckoned for the others to jump. Krenfeld went second, followed by Cat, Vipsania, and the others.

Once everyone was dry enough to fight, Pteron lead them stealthily to the enemy's camp. No one was on guard duty, so Pteron casually strolled into their camp. “Hello, my friends!” he cried out, waking the gremlins and the Darkwalkers. “I have come to turn myself in. I am an officer of the Warriors of Old, and I believe you could extract some valuable information out of me!”

Many of the Darkwalkers aimed their guns on him. “You’ll end up being useful,” one said, “even if you are a yellow-bellied coward.”

“You’re one to be talking,” Pteron remarked calmly. “You happen to be a traitor to your own kind as well, and as for all you gremlins, you only follow your leaders’ orders because they inspire fear into your pathetic hearts!”

“Listen now, I don’t want to have to kill you,” the gremlin’s leader said. “I’d rather you just come quietly and give us some information, or we might just kill you here.”

“Quietly, eh?” Pteron chuckled, shrugging his right shoulder. “Well, I’ve already given you information, but I suppose you already knew how wretched the lot of you are.”

“Just come quietly, and we might spare your life,” a Darkwalker in a Skolver coat threatened him.

“Listen, my friends, I come loudly,” Pteron corrected him. “My friends came quietly, but I guess from now on there is no more coming quietly...”

At this, Vipsania stormed into the camp, followed by the other ten knights. Pteron drew his pistols and shot the gremlin’s leader and the Darkwalker in the Skolver coat. Before either the gremlins or the Darkwalkers could draw their weapons if they hadn’t already, everyone in the camp had fallen except the Warriors of Old and one Darkwalker.

Wolfen had the poor knight pinned down beneath his Flamberge, and asked him, “What were you sent to do?”

“We-we-we were… p-p-planning an alli-li-liance…” the Darkwalker stuttered, “With… S-s-sforzandosi.”

“Were you the only group sent?” Ven questioned him menacingly.

“No… Another group was ahead of us,” the frightened knight replied, a little calmer now. “They were larger. Mainly to intimidate Clemente. We were the ones that were actually going to do the, er, negotiating.”

“That’s all we need to hear,” Pteron said. He pointed to the leader of the other squad, Fjorent, “Could your squad escort this knight back to Haven and tell Feron what happened? Also, make sure it is clear that I don’t want this young wretch killed. He was compliant, so that ought to lower his sentence.”

“Yes, sir, I shall do that,” Fjorent said, and instructed his squad to bind him.

“So, Pteron, are we going to intercept the other group?” Jacques asked.

“I don’t know,” Pteron replied. “What do you think, Vip? Mono might already be over there.”

“Yes,” Cat spoked for her friend. “I just contacted Mono. They’re bunkered down behind a rock, preparing to strike. He said that two squads of reinforcement would be very useful, even though, by the sound of it, he has the rest of our guild over there.”

“Oh, Pteron, that was a rather audacious stunt,” Vipsania commented. “The Spiral Order might not approve of such nerve. We’re official soldiers. You would do well to remember that around Feron.”

Welp guys, I am back from vacation. I write this at 8:00p.m., and I got home from a two week vacation at 1:30 this morning. I was at a fiddle camp for a week, a bluegrass festival for a couple of days, I got to tour the Colorado School of Mines (interested in going there in a few years time), I tried out a bunch of violins (getting a new one), and I spent some time in and around Oklahoma City. And I had band camp at 9:00 this morning. Dang. Excuses, excuses! I'll have a chapter out either tonight or tomorrow, and then I can see if I can't get an actual SCHEDULE going for when I write. Maybe every Tuesday, Saturday, and Sunday? We'll see...

(OOC: Here's another chapter. I made this one long to account for the fact that I can't write as much, and I will most likely be throwing out one or two long-ish chapters a week. I started high school on Monday (first year. Yeah, I'm probably on the young end of fanfiction writers on these forums), so that is likely to eat my life. All my other activities continue as usual, but with the edition of more homework, so I will be spending more time writing, as it is something productive, as opposed to playing Skyrim or Minecraft. :P I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, and I am rather "meh" on the fact that no one has posted since the 8th, which was my last chapter. Comment! Or else! I have nothing to threaten you with because I'll hate myself for stopping!)

Chapter Twelve: Losses and Fresh Blood

Mono looked up onto the battlements on the Mercenary Outpost. Those reinforced sandstone walls will be impossible to take down, he thought to himself. The gate isn’t going to open, and we can’t climb over without getting shredded by those machine guns. They haven’t fired at us yet. Maybe they are waiting for us to strike the first blow.

The Warriors of Old were scattered throughout the field where they had done battle. Two hundred thirty-one gremlins and Darkwalkers had been confirmed as dead, and twenty Warriors of Old had been slain. At least another twenty were wounded.

Mono searched the field for Grub, and found him talking to Ven, whose side was heavily bandaged and bloody. “Grub, what do you make of this? How are we going to get in there?” he asked.

“There isn’t much we can do,” he replied. “There are at least four of them for every one of us. We can’t trap them in there either. They have machine guns, and enough supplies for a month, no doubt.”

“We could always try to talk with them,” Ven suggested painfully. “They might be willing to negotiate if they don’t feel threatened.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Mono said. “Well…

“Pop, Ryker, Pteron, and Vip, come with Grub and I!” he yelled over the ruckus. “Mar, I’m leaving you in charge of the camp! If anything happens, defend this camp with your life and go down fighting like true Warriors!”

Mar ran over to talk to him quickly. “What happens if you don’t return?”

“Alisa is in charge, and if her wound causes any trouble, I think you will be the new leader,” Mono told him solemnly. “If it comes to that, this guild will not be disbanded. I hope you shall continue our legacy honorably and forever serve the Spiral Order. If the worst comes to pass, go down fighting.”

Mar looked at him disbelievingly. He could not imagine the Warriors of Old under his rule. “It has been an honor,” he said, but even though great power awaited him if Mono were to fail, not one part of him wished that to happen.

Mono turned back to the fortress, and, with his friends in tow, he marched slowly toward the fortress, with the hot summer sun illuminating his left side, and the darkness of fate shadowing his right side. He knew that this was not to be his doom, but his bones chilled with worry.

Pteron, who was to his right, saw that something was troubling him, and smiled. “We are going to be fine, I smell it in my bones,” he told his leader, not acknowledging the ridiculousness of his words in the present situation.

Mono said nothing, but turned to see what his other friends were doing. Pop looked as if to confirm that no one would jump out of the brush. Grub and Vip kept their eyes on the fortress, making sure no one was going to gun them down from the battlements. Ryker scowled at the ground ahead of him, and spit onto a gremlin’s corpse that had not yet been buried. Pteron was the only member of the party who was smiling. He smiled at Mono, the fortress, and Ryker.

“What are you grinning about?” Ryker asked him. “Do you want to die or something?”

“Life is good, my friend, life is good,” he replied. “I’ve got a feeling that Sophia will not want to kill us here and now. I’m sure even a gremlin could figure that one out.”

When they reached the summit of the hill, twenty feet before the door, Mono stopped suddenly. “Something isn’t right…” he whispered.

“You are correct there, my friend,” a Ghostmane Stalker said, appearing by the gate. She had lines of orange and green on her, and Mono was worried that she was a minion of Herex’s that had already worked out an alliance with Sophia. “My name is Leona. Do not fear me, for I am not wearing my normal armor. If that was the case, you’d all be dead.”

“We wish to enter this old shack,” Pteron spoke for Mono. “We’ve got dealings with some guild master in there. What was her name? Clementine? Serena? I forget…”

Leona growled under her mask at his joke. “You’d like Aelston, young gunner. He’s in there somewhere. Tinkinzar got sick of him and exiled him. Same reason I’ve got half a
mind to kill you right now. And him, for that matter. Also, your lack of respect for your leader is dangerous, Pteron. You want your head in there and you’ll watch your tongue.”

The door opened after she entered a code into the lock, revealing at least fifty knights, armed to the teeth and ready to slaughter Mono’s small gang of negotiators. Aelston was trying to get through the solid wall of knights but was having trouble and causing quite the fuss. Mono signaled for him to go outside and wait, as if he wanted a word with him later.

He walked down the hall of potential enemies with confidence and when he reached Sophia’s door, he rapped on it politely. It opened, and six seats were already laid out in front of Sophia for the knights to sit on. Everyone took a seat and the doors closed.

“So…” Pop said, “We are here to discuss your proposed allegiance with gremlins and Darkwalkers. What have you to say for yourself?”

“I cannot stop them from asking,” Sophia replied. “Well, I could slaughter them all, but that would take too long and be too risky.”

“So that was it?” Mono demanded. “You were not going to do anything but turn down their offers? You didn’t speak with them beforehand?!”

“They thought it was a meeting about alliances,” she replied coolly. “I was going to deceive them into surrendering accidentally.”

“So this whole fight was in vain?” Ryker asked angrily.

“No, Ryker, it was not,” Grub said. “They could have killed Sophia and almost destroyed Sforzandosi. But we got to them first. Twenty knights lost, yes, but we can always recruit more.”

“Twenty-four,” Pteron corrected him. “Fjorent’s squad was killed as well.”

“Then we shall be departing,” Mono said. “And Sophia? Please inform me if you ever have to negotiate with the gremlins. I will not be as forgiving next time.”

Her yellow eyes burned into his soul as he left the room after Pteron. “I hope we will not have this problem again.”

A young gremlin, who couldn’t have been older than twelve, stopped Pteron in the hallway of knights with his fists up. “You are the leader, yes? Fight me. I must show my strength. I’m the strongest of my age, so I must also be the strongest of all.”

“Pteron looked at the stupid gremlin, who thought he was so powerful, incredulously. “I’m not fighting a whelp like you.”

“Then you’ll defend yourself.”

Everyone moved aside in the bar and someone cleared room for Pteron and the gremlin in the center. The whelp charged Pteron, who simply spun him around back to where he came.

“Your fancy tricks won’t beat me!”

He charged the tall knight again, who hooked his boot around his opponent’s leg and shoved his chest. The unfortunate gremlin hit the concrete floor with his spine, and screamed in pain, but stood up again to continue fighting. This time he punched Pteron’s stomach, who contorted his face but otherwise didn’t move.

Pteron returned the blow with a blow of his own to the gremlin’s face. The kid flew to the ground, and lay still. When Pteron turned him over to check him, he saw that the kid’s nose was terribly bloody, and his heart had stopped breathing.

A female gremlin charged from the crowd, weeping and screaming. “My poor boy! My poor boy! He’s dead! He’s dead!”

Pteron felt terrible inside, but didn’t wish to show it. His face… His mangled face! he thought. I didn’t want that to happen!

“You killed him! My only son!” the boy’s mother screamed at him.

Mono beckoned to Pteron to leave the mother to her sorrows, so as to not cause more damage.

When he got outside, Mono saw Aelston and asked him, “Would you be willing to join the Warriors of Old? I heard you were exiled by Tinkinzar himself.”

“‘Too stupid,’ he said, ‘Too silly,’ Aelston told him. “Yeah, I was exiled. But I don’t know if I want to join your guild. I’ll think about it.”

“Alrighty. You are welcome any time. I owe my life, so it would be an honor to have you in my ranks, even if you do not work in the main squads.”

“I may take you up on that offer soon enough.”

!#-^*^-#!

When Mono and the Warriors of Old returned to Haven, the news of their losses spread like wildfire. Knights and gremlins young and old came flocking to the Military District of Haven to go through a series of rigorous tests, conducted by the officers and guild masters.

Each guild master had paired up with an officer so as to test four knights at a time. Mono and Pteron were good friends at this point, so Pteron was perfectly happy being with Mono, but his leader had his own agenda.

Mono knew that killing the young gremlin two nights ago had scarred Pteron terribly. He wanted to keep an eye on his officer’s mental stability. Pteron had always been a little crazy and daring, and Mono feared that he would not be so while depressed. He feared that his officer’s spirit would be crushed and Pteron would never be as good of a warrior and commander as he was before.

“Accepted, report to me after we are done,” Mono said to a promising and enthusiastic young knight. “Next!”

Another knight, who appeared to be a fresh Vanguard, stepped up. He was armed to the teeth (literally) with , a Barbarous Thorn Blade and Shield, and modified Snarbolax armor. “Kaqueth. My name is Kaqueth.”

“Well, Kaqueth, your test begins now,” Pteron told him. “You are to be judged on your overall skills and knowledge of battle.

“First of all, the oral portion of the examination. What is the guild you wish to join?”

“I wish to join the Warriors of Old, a specials forces regiment of the Spiral Order, led by Lieutenant Mono. You are in an alliance with Sforzandosi, led by Sophia Clemente. The other three guild masters are Lieutenant Pop, Lieutenant Alisa, and Lieutenant Grub, and the officers are Commander Pteron, Commander Mar, Commander Ryker, and Commander Vip.”

“Good…” Mono commented. “You don’t have to name our ranks. Because this is a special forces regiment, we are more casual than normal regiments, but we do expect more from you in combat. Pteron is unable to test you, as you seem to be a swordsman, so that shall be my job. Your job is simple: force me to yield. You may begin.”

Kaqueth pounced onto Mono as a cat pounces on a mouse, but Mono made him slide right off his shield. The new Vanguard drew his sword now, and his examiner did the same. Kaqueth sprung forward with a stab, but Mono tapped it aside with his own blade.

The attacker realized that his Mono’s shield was down and charged forward with a bash, which caused Mono to fall on his back. Kaqueth jumped onto Mono and commanded him to yield, even though neither of them had a sword or shield.

“I’m willing to take the bet that I’m a better wrestler than you,” Mono said.

Kaqueth opened his mouth, revealing that his armor had a large mouthpiece complete with teeth. “Yield!”

“Alright, you win,” Mono told him reluctantly, rising from the ground. “You are now an official member of the Warriors of Old. Report to me when the rest of the knights have been tested.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kaqueth said, and turned around to find some of his friends.

By the end of the day, fifteen new squads had been formed, numbering the Warriors of Old at thirty-four squads and one hundred thirty-six members, as opposed to the twenty-five squads and one hundred members they has only a few days ago.

(OOC: Sorry if this chapter is a bit dark. Okay, it's very dark. But that's 'cause it's Chapter Thirteen, so that's my excuse. My other excuse is that I started reading Lord of the Flies for Honors English the other night, so all that darkness is going to be crammed in my brain for the next couple of weeks. :P Also, if you don't remember who Tsímímí is, he was mentioned in Chapter... Eight? Well, whichever chapter introduced Leona. Also, @LoN: Aelston has quite the part ahead of him, so if him and Leona being there was interesting in Chapter Twelve, you'll love this. Also, if anyone was wondering about Mark-LS5, he is still with Tinkinzar, but that'll be explained later, no worries. I don't want you peeps freakin' out like a bunch of mad billygoats.)

Chapter Thirteen: Tsímímí’s Demise

“Move me quicker, you fools!” Tsímímí shouted at his slaves, who were pushing him along on a hovering building. Tsímímí stood on top, with a machine gun mounted in front of him. The entire structure was armored, but was made cheaply so as to not use real engines to power it.

Tsímímí’s purple and red cape flowed behind him in a way both dark and majestic. He had assigned twenty of the best trained Darkwalkers as his personal guards since the incident at the Mercenary Outpost. Everyone, including himself, knew that Tsímímí valued his life more than any other. He would kill anyone if it meant saving himself, even his own son.

“Sir, we need a break!” one of the slaves complained. “Why don’t you let the guards push you for a while? They’re strong warriors, we’re just merchants!”

“Shut your mouth unless you want it open for eternity!” Tsímímí replied, pointing a dagger at him.

“But--” the servant cried out, but was stopped short by a dagger through his heart. The other slaves and guards moved out of the way, so as to not trip on the corpse. The slave was left on the road in a puddle of crimson blood, with his mouth wide open in the stillness of death.

Three travelers approached Tsímímí’s party on the road before them. They saw a warrior dressed in sparkling steel with violet and crimson fabric adorning it. They saw a figure of power, but also one of cruelty. But in his men, they did not see thoughtless minions. They saw ruthless murderers.

Tsímímí knew what they saw, and immediately gunned them down with his machine gun. The blue lasers cut through them, leaving three charred and bloody bodies on the road.

Any Darkwalker “lucky” enough to be chosen as a guard had been given orders to never question any of Tsímímí’s actions, even if they involved brutally murdering innocent people. On this journey of his, which eventually lasted fifty miles, and took four days, three slaves and forty-one travelers fell to his hand. Although his guards were not willing to stand up to their brutish leader, someone slightly smarter saw this madman’s atrocities. And this good soul was willing to take a stand.

!#-^*^-#!

Aelston saw the three travelers in front of him be ripped to pieces. They were wealthy retired Vanguards, who had owned shops in Haven for armor customization. He had just spoken with them, but he had fallen behind them to eat a small lunch. Aelston might have been half a mile away, but he knew what had transpired, and who did it.

He immediately cloaked, and began to lay down anti-personnel mines on the road, where he knew Tsímímí would go. Tsímímí was bound to recognize him and shoot him for fun if he was not careful and deadly.

Once the mines were hidden, he quietly jogged over to Tsímímí’s party to have fun, as his present life had been getting rather boring. A few of the guards were surprised by the cloud of dust that Aelston generated, but Tsímímí himself didn’t appear worried.

Aelston quickly fell in line with the slaves and hopped onto the ladder that lead up to Tsímímí’s seat. He climbed up it and stood next to Tsímímí, who was staring off to the right. Aelston took this opportunity to aim the machine gun at one of the guards below and fired.

The soldier fell dead, and Tsímímí spun around, trying to punch Aelston. As any master recon would do, Aelston jumped off the structure before his prey even got the chance to turn around. To his surprise, he failed to land on the ground. Instead, he crashed onto another gremlin recon, who stood dead still until Tsímímí had passed.

She whispered to Aelston, “Who are you? What was that all about?”

“I can’t see you at all, where are you?” Aelston asked.

“Right in front of you.”

He crawled forward, trying to see if he could find her. Unfortunately, she had twisted around, and he accidentally swung his arm into her leg, causing her to fall onto him. To any onlookers, this would have been quite amusing, but, as no one was able to see either of them, the hilarity of this went unnoticed.

“Okay, I’m just going to hide behind some bushes and uncloak, so maybe you can find me without tripping me up,” she whispered hostilely.

When the other gremlin uncloaked behind a bush, Aelston saw for the first time who it was: Ava der Ärztin. He also uncloaked, and she knew at once who he was. “What are you doing attacking Tsímímí’s men?”

“Having fun,” he replied. “But I need to go over there. I set some mines, so I might as well watch them go off.”

The two gremlins quickly linked their cloaks, so they would not crash into each other, and ran up to the minefield to wait.

Tsímímí’s first rank of guards activated all of the mines. They flew into the air, one even landing on Tsímímí. Aelston uncloaked himself and began throwing chakrams into the remaining soldiers’ ranks. Once seven of the eight surviving guards had fallen, Aelston recloaked and climbed up the building to stand beside Tsímímí.

“It is a shame, isn’t it?” Aelston asked Tsímímí. “If you had seen me first, I’d be dead. In fact, if Tinkinzar hadn’t exiled me, I’d probably be patrolling these hills to make sure you didn’t come into any trouble. But I wasn’t. In fact, I was the trouble.”

“Aelston! How dare you betray me!” Tsímímí accused him, but was directed an entire one hundred twenty degrees away from Aelston’s actual location. “Just because Tinkinzar exiled you doesn’t mean I’d kill you!”

“It’s okay Tsímímí, I’ll make your death quick,” Aelston said. “You shouldn’t be afraid at all. Besides, you would have killed me for the sake of killing me. Like you killed those innocent merchants.”

Tsímímí began to look around frantically. “You wouldn’t disgrace Tinkinzar and the Crimson Order by killing me!”

“The whole Darkwalker operation was destructive to the Great Colony from Day One,” Aelston spat. “If I really wanted to disgrace the Crimson Order, I would let you live. You Isorans have always been a disgusting and dumb race. But I digress…”

“You are a Warrior of Old, aren’t you?!” Tsímímí demanded. “How can you say you are loyal?!”

“I’m thinking about it,” Aelston corrected him. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking… I even thought it out pretty thoroughly that Tinkinzar might not be the best leader for the Great Colony after all. Through all I have ever done, I have only wanted what was best for my race. My time around the Warriors of Old has showed me many thriving and prosperous gremlins who are not under Tinkinzar’s iron fist. Compared to them, the gremlins of the Great Colony are underfed livestock.”

“How dare you speak like that about our leader!” Tsímímí shouted at him. “I hope you boil in your own blood after you’re done with me!”

“Quite the angry one…” were the last words Tsímímí ever heard as Aelston threw a chakram at his throat from five feet away. The circular blade got lodged in his neck, and he fell off the platform with a thud as he landed on the ground.

Aelston uncloaked once more and climbed down to free the slaves, who were most grateful. When the last one was untied from the accursed platform, Aelston heard a gunshot from nearby. It was only one, and was not followed up by any more, so he assumed it was a signal, as a single gunshot to the sky on Cradle meant that someone was approaching.

Pteron, Ven Kumonai, Wolfen, Krenfeld, and a bound captive came over the hill to Aelston’s right. “Hello, Aelston!” Pteron greeted him. “We found this Darkwalker running away. I assume you spared him?”

“I think my chakram must have bounced off his armor,” Aelston replied. “And before you ask, I am going to join the Warriors of Old in your war against Tinkinzar, under one condition.”

“What would that be?”

“Once he has been defeated, we must help rebuild the Great Colony from what it was,” Aelston explained. “I have realized that Tinkinzar’s rule has only weakened the Colony as a whole, although their military is currently strong.”

“You’ll have to talk to Mono about that one, but I was not going to mention that,” Pteron told him. “I was going to tell you about this little wretch. He can give us certain information about how to break into Tinkinzar’s own citadel, so I decided to spare him.”

“I can give you even better information than he,” Aelston reminded him. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“Well… Yes,” Pteron admitted. “I… I couldn’t muster up the will to kill him after… After what I did to that poor young gremlin. I didn’t want to force anyone else to do the deed.”

“I’d be glad to dispose of him,” Wolfen stepped forward. “Have you forgotten that Xerxes’ minions killed my best friend? I don’t mean any hate for you, Aelston.”

“Of course,” Aelston and Pteron replied in unison, albeit for different reasons.

Without even waiting for any more of a response, Wolfen plunged his Barbarous Thorn Blade into the Darkwalker’s heart. Pteron cringed at his ruthlessness, but said nothing, so as to not appear weak before a possible recruit.

There'll be another chapter in the next couple of days! I'm a little deaf in my leaf ear (dove hunting without earplugs for part of the time. Even with earplugs it was bad), and I've had a lotta stuff happening. And a lotta stuff not happening. But I finally broke Skyrim (saves glitched out), so I guess I just have to write. Aw, what the heck, why am I typing this? Just a little warning. And yeah, this is a little late. :P

(OOC: I finally got around to doing this. High school sucks. It's not that I don't have the time to engage my brain, it's that I don't have the sleep. I'm wasting sleep just writing this dang thing so I'm going to stop. And LoN, have you given up? Am I just writing this more Ranny and myself? /shrug.)

Chapter Fifteen: An Officer’s Folly

The sun dawned over the horizon, shining its glowing light over the once barren and inhospitable valley. Through engineering and technology, the gremlins had made it their home.

Though the Colony itself was on a plateau, many production facilities and laboratories dotted the valley. Mono knew of Herex’s own infamous facility that lay beyond the Colony, to the north, although he could not see it. It was built on a wretched and filthy lake in which nothing but the most strange and hardy forms of life could survive.

Gremlin patrols could be seen wandering the valley, but not even Aelston dared to take pot shots at them, for fear of alerting their enemies of their position.

Four hundred miles from home, the Warriors of Old and Sforzandosi were prepared for the attack. They were waiting on a ridge overlooking the deadly valley for Feron’s signal. Feron had decided to bolster Mono’s force with five hundred standard soldiers. They had found a cave that exited into the valley, and were going to wreak havoc among other processing plants and facilities shortly. Mono opposed this, as he was planning on taking the Colony itself before dealing with the surrounding areas.

Mono’s shadow was a silhouette on the horizon; his right side basked in the sun’s golden light, while his left side was shadowed by the receding darkness of night. Alisa, Grub, and Pop walked up to him slowly.

“We need to address our warriors,” Pop told him. “We also have to block off the cave so we don’t have to deal with those other soldiers messing us up.”

“I was thinking we could collapse part of the cave,” Grub suggested immediately. “They’d find another way out by the time the Colony was taken.”

“That’s too dangerous,” Alisa rebuked. “We have to convince them. Don’t we all have the authority to stop them?”

“They might not comply,” Mono finally responded. “We can try, but if we do, and we fail, we’ll be stuck with them.”

“But Feron gave them orders!” Alisa said.

“Feron’s not here,” Grub pointed out. “He doesn’t know the situation at hand, so we are completely within our power to ‘change’ the orders. Besides, boundaries are meant to be crossed, just as orders are meant to be disobeyed.”

“We’ll do that then,” Mono decided quickly and firmly, without much thought. “Override orders.”

Sophia had overheard this and stepped into the conversation. “And who will waste time doing that?” she asked. “The longer we are in that valley before we begin the attack, the more likely we are to fail. They’ll post extra guards, and before we know it, they’ll be coming out to fight us on their terms.”

“You have a valid point,” Grub agreed. “Why don’t we send one of our squads and four Sforzandosi warriors to deliver a message?”

“That would be eight fewer fighters from the main force,” Sophia said. “We might be able to divert that many. You will need your officers though.”

“Those soldiers could lead Feron’s to join the main force in storming the gates,” Grub suggested. “We can just get a recording of you and they ought to comply.”

“You can always court-martial them if they don’t,” Sophia joked, but behind her brief laughter was a sinister truth. If Mono wanted, he could control the entire Spiral Order. He had the supporters for it, if not the sheer numbers.

“Pop,” Mono ordered, “go choose a squad and four Sforzandosi warriors. Give them their orders; they can get a recording once the rest of us are moving. Alisa, go get everyone rounded up and ready to fight. Grub and Sophia, I need to finalize the squading and grouping with you. We leave this ridge in forty minutes.”

!#-^*^-#!

Mar nodded to Mono, silently signaling that his group would branch off to the west and begin their assault on the Great Colony. Leona’s group stayed with Mono’s, and would only separate when the first of Mar’s bombs had detonated.

Pythonne, Stalig, and Vϋl walked closest to him, while the fourth member of Mar’s squad guarded the rear.

“They won’t be ready for a few explosions,” Mar assured them, “and if they are, we have traitors among us. Stalig, I want you to go in front of us, with your shield raised until we get where we can start causing those gremlins some problems. Pythonne, you are now in charge. Vül, you need to stick with me.

“Everyone!” he called. “Pythonne is now in charge of all explosives. Stay in your current positions. I don’t care for the whole idea of military marching, so you can be casual, but be ready. If a gremlin patrol comes, we are moving to the side, and then maybe we can take them out with a few bombs. Got it? Good.”

The lifeless and unforgiving cliffs to their right occasionally came alive with a small rockfall, but Mar could only hear silence. Pythonne could sense something wrong, but chose to hold his tongue.

Mar watched the barren landscape. He was always on the lookout for any sort of gremlin patrol, but the only thing he could see was a sea of run-down, yet still running, refineries and factories. “What’s your thought on all these rusting vessels?” he asked. “Surely they have to be dangerous?”

“Yeah, those scumbag gremlins can’t even run their refineries,” Pythonne replied. “I’m surprised their old trash cans haven’t already fallen apart, or blown themselves up.”

“Guys, I think there’s someone coming toward us on the road!” Stalig interrupted them. “We should take cover.”

Mar signaled them into the cave they found nearby. They were silent in their movement, and by the time the last man entered the cave, everyone was settled in.

“Is everyone comfortable and prepared to be silent?” Mar asked. “We’re going to stay here for twenty minutes--”

“No you will not,” a voice, unmistakably gremlin, said. A ceiling light suddenly illuminated the cave, revealing at least two gremlins or Darkwalkers for every one of Mar’s men. “You’re coming with us.”

“What’s going on here?” Mar demanded. “How did you know about us?”

“We didn’t,” a rather decorated Darkwalker answered. “This cave was built about a week ago as an escape route for the Nine, King Tinkinzar, and the best of his men. Unfortunately for you, you are in this cave with the one hundred twenty most awarded of Tinkinzar’s soldiers.”

“Alright, you stupid knights, get up, and get moving!” the lead gremlin yelled. “If you step out of line, you die. Keep your weapons with you, as any resistance is futile.”

After a few minutes of marching, Pythonne fell in beside Stalig, and whispered, “Is your shield blast-proof?”

Stalig nodded.

“I want you to get in the center of our little crowd, and get as many knights, and as few gremlins, in the radius as possible,” Pythonne ordered. “I don’t need to tell you what I’m going to do. Get that shield up when the fighting star--”

“Quiet down back there!” a Darkwalker yelled.

Stalig nodded again, albeit more grimly.

Pythonne weaved his way through the crowd, to Mar’s side. “Go over there with Stalig,” Pythonne said. “Don’t ask why. You’ll see.

“Sir,” Pythonne addressed the gremlins’ leader, “You know something about strategy. Tell me, what advantage does a group of bombers have over you?”

“What?” the gremlin asked instinctively, before realizing Pythonne’s intent. “Kill them!”

Pythonne dodged a hammer-swing, and returned it with a bomb. His explosive took out a knight, several gremlins, and caused part of the ceiling to collapse. Almost instantly, Stalig’s shield went up, and dozens of bombs flew through the air. Pythonne’s armor protected him from the blasts, but many others were fighting suicidally. He leapt into Stalig’s shield, and only barely escaped a large falling boulder.

At this point, Stalig’s shield was supporting tons of rock. He pushed upward, praying that it would hold out. Light was visible through the cracks in the boulders. After thirty more seconds of clenching his teeth and praying to the gods he was still alive, the remaining bombers surfaced.

They were in a building in the city, and they could hear a dreadfully loud noise outside. Every entrance to the building was blocked by the boulders Stalig’s shield had displaced within the tunnel.

Mar was nowhere to be seen, but Vül, Stalig, and Pythonne were still alive. The fourth member of Mar’s squad was also missing, along with forty-two others. Of the sixty-one warriors that Mar left with, only seventeen remained.

“We made it!” Vül yelled joyously.

“Yes, but so many didn’t,” Stalig said. “We lost Mar and Lakev, and countless others.”

“I hope Mono has started his attack by now,” Pythonne remarked. “It would be the perfect time: all those gremlins can think of right now is us.”

Well, I'm writing this for fun and practice. It has improved tremendously from when I started. But that's why I'm writing it. And I'm glad you think I portrayed Sabo accurately. He's certain fun to write for. :P

Chapter Nineteen: The Behemoth

“Wow!” Ryker exclaimed. “What a beast!”

“So this is what Zanterxōs was planning…” Mono uttered, staring at the airship. “I wonder if we could fly this.”

On the starboard, port, and aft sides of the colossus were gunner positions, and the cockpit sat between two rocket launchers. Two curved wings rested above the cockpit, with one engine on each.

Mono stepped up the ramp into the cargo hold, which acted as a pathway between the pilot’s seat and the gunner positions. He found a few passenger seats and boxes of weaponry.

Sophia, Aelston, and Ryker climbed into the ship with Mono, who had chosen them specifically to investigate the airship. “Let’s see if this thing actually works!” Sophia shouted, taking the pilot seat. Her Kamacite Arm fused itself into the ship, and with it, she closed the door of the cargo hold and began takeoff.

Aelston, Ryker, and Mono all scrambled to get into a gunner seat before the airship took off. As the engines started up, a voice came over the loudspeaker, “Vedqa ver kú Alya-Dres-Fvort.”

“What does that mean?” Ryker yelled to Aelston.

“Welcome to the Alya-63,” Aelston explained. “‘Alya’ translates roughly to ‘behemoth,’ a suitable name.”

The ship lurched forward, before grinding to a halt on the hangar’s floor. “Lemme try that again!” Sophia yelled.

“I’m not liking this!” Ryker shouted. “Have you ever flown anything before?!”

“There’s nothing else to fly on this planet!”

“Good point…” Ryker grumbled. After a couple tries, he got the microphone working, and was able to communicate without yelling. “Where are you planning on flying this thing once you get it working?”

“Why don’t we bomb Herex’s facility?” Aelston suggested. “That way, we won’t have to worry about his Compound 42 getting on us, or anyone else.”

Before anyone could reply, the ship was out of the hangar, and flying north rapidly. Within seconds, the knights still clearing the Colony were firing at it, but its armor managed to stop even the more powerful rifles. Aelston, who had taken the aft gun, fired into the sky, trying to show that they meant no harm.

“Wow! A-35 lasers!” Aelston exclaimed as he watch the guns’ projectiles fly into the sky. “These are three grades more powerful than my sniper. You guys know how lucky we are to get ahold of these?”

“I’m assuming there were not many of these guns made?” Mono asked.

“That, and they were only working on the earliest prototypes when I was exiled,” Aelston replied. “These are new!”

Sophia suddenly veered the ship to the east, where Herex’s facility was. Knights were already laying siege, but had not yet broken into the fortress. Mono and Aelston fired onto the walls, disabling multiple turrets. They could see their fellow knights on the ground cheering them on as Sophia turned around, this time to bomb the enemy.

Four missiles shot from the hull of the craft into the facility. Fire, smoke, and shrapnel rose from the fortress when the missiles made contact. After two more runs, Sophia roughly landed beside the battlefield.

The crew of the Alya-63 exited the airship to a round of applause from the knights on the battlefield, who all appeared to be Feron’s.

“There they are! The leader of the Warriors of Old and the leader of Sforzandosi!” one knight whispered to another. “What’re they doing with an airship?!”

“Takin’ it for a test drive,” Aelston joked. “What’re you whelps doing here?”

“Feron sent us,” one replied. “We were stopped at the edge of a cave by some of your soldiers, but they let us come out when they got the signal that Tinkinzar was dead.”

“Hah! Typical knights!” Aelston laughed. “Hiding in a cave! Mono, would the Warriors of Old be caught hiding in a cave? Wait, I know the answer.”

“We broke out,” Ryker corrected him. “And if I remember correctly, you and your robot went running away with your tails between your legs.”

“The insubordination and disrespect!” one of Feron’s officers exclaimed. “How do you manage to keep your crew in line if everyone acts like that?!”

“We manage,” Mono replied sternly. “Now, do we wanna fly this thing back to Haven, or wait?”

“We have to set up a government here before we leave,” Aelston reminded him. “Need to get a decent leader and system of laws.”

“What’re you planning on doing, taking over?” Ryker asked him. “Mono, do you really want Aelston as the holder of the Iron Throne?”

“I don’t see why not,” Mono said seriously. “He’d make a great leader.”

“He tried to kill me! Multiple times!”

Mono sighed and signaled for his friends to return the the ship. Sophia took off again and did another awkward landing in the hangar. Mono, Ryker, and Aelston got out to head back into the citadel, but Sophia decided to fly the Alya-63 back to Haven and see if new ones could be made.

By the time Mono, Ryker, and Aelston caught up with their friends, all continuing resistance within the city had been crushed, and Grub was working on setting up an occupation plan. The prisoners had been put on a caravan back to Haven, and a memorial ground was set up beneath the plateau where Mar’s group had blasted the rock. The knights’ bodies that were found were also laid to rest, and their enemies’ bodies were set ablaze on the south side of the plateau.

After a week of rebuilding, Mono decided to leave five of his squads with the Colony for a month or so, until Aelston and Leona finished installing a government.

On the way back to Haven, Mono decided to talk to Lokd, and uncover the meaning of Tinkinzar’s last words.

“So… Lokd, when Tinkinzar died, what did he say?” Mono asked.

“‘Kzumøk ver hing,’” Lokd responded. “Those are the words that no leader is supposed to utter. They mean, roughly, ‘Death to my subjects.’”

“Why would he say such a thing?” Mono inquired. “What does that mean for the Colony?”

“Those were words said in anger, but they were meant,” Lokd said. “He was angry at his subjects for failing to protect him. Honestly, I don’t know what it could mean for them.”

(OOC: So, I'm going to do another book or two, but that'll be in a few months. I will be taking rolecasted characters, so get some ready! The gremlins and of course our crazy Pythonne will still be around and functioning, but the majority of the knights will be old... I mean, I guess Old Snag could worth some magicks and maybe make them young again. I dunno. We'll see. But the characters in the next one will be even more rolecasted. I might even rolecast the main character. We shall see. Anyway, enjoy!)

Chapter Twenty: Tearium

One year had gone by since Tinkinzar’s demise. The Colony had been repaired; many sensible gremlins had returned. Lokd and Ava had left Haven to help with the rebuilding of the gremlins’ society.

Aelston and Leona set up a Council of Eleven to rule their race. Both Ava and Lokd were offered spots, but only Lokd accepted. Other scholars were taken from the population and given seats in the Eleven, as well as three ex-generals of Tinkinzar’s army that were deemed safe. A democracy was being set up by these Eleven, so they would only have power for a short while longer, unless they were reelected.

Zanterxōs had been put in a prison where he would design new airships, albeit at gunpoint.

Mono had come into possession of one of Tearium cores that powered the airships. He was on his way to Wegner to find out if the Spiral Order could build another Skylark and return to Isora.

When Mono arrived at the old geologist’s facility, everything was in disarray. It looked as though a bomb had struck the inside of the laboratory. Knights were carrying crates in and out, all of which were filled with minerals or rocks.

Wegner was analyzing a mineral sample brought by an expedition into the Clockworks when he saw Mono. “Mono! You decided to show up at last!”

“I suppose I had to come here some time,” Mono grinned. “Why’s this place in such a mess? Has it always been like this?”

“It’s all organized, trust me,” Wegner defended himself. “The minerals are all laid out on the floor by composition, and the tools by uses. Unfortunately, my helper knights are always clueless, so they just pile the minerals everywhere.

“No!” he yelled abruptly. “Don’t do that! These are not organized by color! This goes over there, with the other Valestone based minerals, not the copper based ones! Never put them in that pile! If I tried to extract copper from that it would probably explode! Get out of my sight!”

The knight ran away in terror and left the building.

“Sorry,” Wegner said, “I always get sent the engineers when I ask for knights interested in science. All the geologists are out in the Clockworks getting themselves killed to bring me samples of stuff I already have. But they’re not the worst of it! No, I get average brutes bringing me silicon dioxide and insisting they found something useful. Don’t they know I’m currently studying zinc sulfide?!”

Mono shook his head and chuckled. “I’m here to ask you something,” he said. “So, the Skylark was powered by a large Tearium core. Well, during my war against Tinkinzar, I found an airship. It was small, compared to the Skylark, but it also had a Tearium core.”

“Can I see it?” Wegner gasped excitedly.

“Yeah,” Mono said, taking his sample from his pocket. “We found about fifty more, but they are only about three pounds each, so I didn’t think we could do much more than power some airships with these, but it seems the gremlins have a way of manufacturing Tearium. Would it ever be possible to rebuild the Skylark?”

“If the gremlins had only fifty cores, it would take at least fifty years,” Wegner told him. “I wouldn’t be alive to see it, but you might. But then again, this planet is fascinating. If I could go back to Isora or stay here, I’d stay here. It’s been thirty years.”

“So, should we save them for later or continue to build ships?” Mono asked. “Anyone that wants to leave could easily commission a decent sized ship, but nothing as big as the Skylark.”

“Yeah, for now, it would make more sense to devote resources to quell a rebellion, if there is one,” Wegner answered. “There is time to see. I guarantee there are gremlins and knights joining together at this moment, conspiring against the Spiral Order and the Eleven.”

!#-^*^-#!

Mono stood between Pop, Grub, and Alisa on Haven’s western wall, the very same they had destroyed a few years ago, watching the sun fall below the horizon.

“So, are we ever going to get off this old planet?” Grub asked.

“From what Wegner said, we could,” Mono replied, “but I’ll stay. I like the gremlins, the hordes of undead, and, of course, the great hunting.”

“You have a good point,” Pop said. “Besides, we bought an Alya, so we might as well stay to enjoy it.”

“Y’know what?” Alisa suggested suddenly. “Why don’t we pool some money and have our tail written down? We’ve come an awfully long way, and future generations deserve to hear of our story, and not from word of mouth. Then it would seem like a legend. We were real people. The Warriors of Old will still be a regiment seventy years from now, so they must have a story to call their own.”

“That’ll be easy,” Mono said. “Since everything was recorded, I could just give them the files in my head. Of course, anything I missed would have to be explained by someone else, like with Mar’s group during the assault on the Colony.”

“We might as well do it now,” Alisa said. “Our story is over. ‘The sun is setting over the vast plain of my life.’ That’s what Eve told me the day we attacked Xerxes’ fortress. Our destiny has been completed.”

“A new day shall dawn,” Grub prophesied. “A day where we shall be the ancestors looked up to by many, but few shall have the courage to follow in our footsteps. A day where the Warriors of Old are still a ragtag group of the best fighters the Spiral Order has to offer.”

Darkness finally fell over Haven with the five warriors’ silhouettes lining the wall. “But for now, we might as well have fun!” Pteron interrupted the tranquility, and revealed that he had been listening in for a while. “C’mon, we have a party to get to! It’s been a whole year since that tyrant was dead, can yah believe it?!”

As the friends went to their party, three words seemed to resonate through the air, sky, and ground: Kzumøk ver hing.

TO BE CONTINUED

Thanks for your dedication! Feel free to make another character or two when I do open up the rolecasting. This will be different in the next one. It's gonna be like 50 years later, so you dunno what happened. Maybe Mono was assassinated. Maybe Actua went nuts with her Grim Repeater and is now in jail. Maybe a nuke hit Haven and they're all dead. We shall see...