The Corsairs
The wingship fleet had been loaded up. The Condor had been untethered; because it was the largest wingship in the fleet, it took the longest to prepare. The wing sails on the side were unfurled slowly, and rigorously inspected for defects. Barron stepped onto the deck for the first time. His freshly shined leather boots, straight from the inventories of Capatis, thunked on a hardwood floor. He could hardly hold in his excitement for his first flight as a Corsair. His father, Captain Baycliff, had been flying this ship for forty-seven years. Barron looked up with a smile as the laser guns were unplugged. The men on the upper deck gave the cables a hurl away from the ship so they wouldn't damage the railings. He saw them draped in the open air, hanging from the Empyreal castle until they were reeled in.
As a kid, he loved seeing the cables retract from the sepulchral core. They would wind around massive barrels, and cooling units would slide over them to make sure none of the workers were hit by a stray electrical current. Now he was seeing them recoil from the wingship.
He was so enamored with the sight of the cables that he almost missed the sight of the castle. His home. He hadn't been able to see it from this angle but only a few times. The Skyport where the wingships were wasn't always the safest area to be without an armed escort; on account of the aggressive bone ravens that sometimes flew that high. Barron hated feeling like he was fragile. He knew how to handle himself.
Though he hadn't encountered a bone raven, a mutant, or even a carrion kind himself, he had gone through the simulations. He knew how to fight, should he ever get the chance. If he could choose between the three, on which one to fight, he would choose the mutants. The carrion couldn't be killed by normal weaponry, based on the stories he would overhear his father tell his mother. And you never pick the Bone Ravens.
"They all smell of death." His mother would say. Even in the Sims, they almost had a stench to them. He would never encounter the carrion bear in the Sims though. It was way too big for the programming. That thing was a sight to behold.
The largest, and only mobile fortress in the Neverheaven. Well, the largest was debatable. The Godshand was buried under the sand, but no one knows how deep. Barron had only seen the bear once, but it was something he'll never forget. His mother had woken him up to see it. It was traversing through the morning fog, and its thundering movements had raised the soldiers' alarm. She called him into her room to look out the windows. His reaction was filled with splendor. His mother's reaction was fear. She knew that Barron wanted to adventure out of the castle, and saw the opportunity to see what was out there from a distance. The giant Condors, his parents thought, would be an indicator of how things were here. There were abnormalities in the Neverheaven, that was clear, but that never swayed Barron's wanderlust.
And that was just the Carrion kind.
The mutant kind, on the other hand, were just once-humans. Most of them didn't know how to use their elongated, clunky extremities. They were quick and had extraordinary abilities, but they could be beaten. Barron was ready. The Condor had been fueled. Captain Baycliff signaled to the leading airmen on the other wingships. They debarked and met at the Skyport to converse.
"I only want the Condor. Tell the men to stand down." Captain Baycliff said.
"Sir? My apologies, but I was under the impression you wanted the fleet."
"Not this time, Priam. I think too many ships would raise the alarm too quickly. I want to get the drop on them."
"Yes sir, forgive my misunderstanding, but is this not an attack run?"
"Yes and no. Attack and scouting. We're operating with a skeleton crew, but I could use some of your men if you're willing to part with them for the time being?"
"Of course, Captain. I'll ask my crew if any of them will join you."
"Good man. For those that don't join, tell them to keep watch for our return." "Yes, sir." Captain Baycliff returned to his ship; moments later, Marixe, son of Hugo the lead chef, boarded the Condor. he and the Captain nodded in place of a formal greeting. Barron looked at Marixe with a slight jealousy. He was stocky and muscular and wore his sword across his chest like a proud warrior. Then Captain Baycliff raised his arm above his head and shouted, "Liftoff!" With that, the Condor began its flight.
They could fly for days with the mix of the Condor's wings and their fuel. Their destination was unknown to him, who looked at the Captain. Solomon Baycliff had a determined look on his face. He knew.
With just a few waves of the Condor's wings, Barron's maple hair flowed and his admiral-colored jacket blew back in the wind. He gripped onto the railing next to him. He didn't mind the jacket. Rather, he didn't want to wear the jacket. Part of his mentorship was to wear what the Captain wore during his first years. His father wore his well. Through the many battles, he grew into it. Part of Corsair culture was if your clothes were torn, or ripped during battle, you would take a piece of your opponents' clothing, if possible, or sew their color into your own. Captain Baycliff had many colors sewn into this jacket. He wore them like medals.
"We're almost at our destination, men!" Barron gripped onto the railing with both hands and peered over the edge.
They were heading to Godshand.
King Carafus was the ruler of Godshand. He knew the Corsairs well. Carafus was no stranger to war. Every kingdom from the Citadel to the Necrovians in Seavein wanted the Godshand. This kingdom was a structure shaped as two hands, with the bottoms of their hands connected and the fingers pointed upward, toward the sky. The wrists were to be forever bound by the Leviticus vine.
It had been there since before the Corsair kingdom Barron's mother told him. Stories were told to her when she was a girl, about the God-son Analipsi, who had betrayed his father, the god Anafainomenos, and took with him fallen angels, who began breeding with demons disguised as beautiful women, thus creating the first races in Neverheaven. According to myth, Analipsi's father banished him to never see the blood sun again, turning him to stone and buried him in the sand. King Carafus claimed he was given authority to live in Analipsi's hands by Anafainomenos's daughter Call'ath.
As the wingship approached Captain Baycliff shouted, "Dive!"
The Condor's wings folded and the ship dove at an unfathomable speed. Barron didn't know how the other men weren't floating or falling. He gripped the railing until his knuckles were white.
The Captain then shouted, "Release!"
The men on the lower deck tugged on ropes, unfurling the wings to level out. The sudden change made Barron's body slam into the deck, knocking the wind out of him. The ship was gliding now. Captain Baycliff jumped and landed on the main deck. "Gentlemen! This is Godshand, and I want it. Do not underestimate their defenses! They do not take prisoners, but neither do we! I need a volunteer for the first attack." At once one of the men raised his hand. It was Marixe. Baycliff nodded at him and smiled in approval, he shot a quick glance at Barron. Marixe pulled out his sword, leaped up, and stood on the railing, readied himself, waiting for the right moment to jump.
"Be aware of the King's dagger. Its power is immense." Captain Baycliff shouted to the man, Marixe, son of Hugo.
Marixe nodded and crouched as far down as he could go, ready to leap. Barron ran over to the railing where Marixe was, to see where he was jumping to. He noticed a man had come out of the chapel in Godshand, wearing a red cloak. It was the King; he was looking right at them!
Marixe took the leap! He lifted his sword above his head, looking to get a downward slash with force. If he could just get a cut on the King, he didn't care what happened to himself. Carafus just stood, almost patiently, and watched as Baycliff's martyr fell to him.
Captain Baycliff stood on the crow's nest of his ship; his and the King's eyes met. Barron watched and waited. He noticed there was a calculated nature to the King. A nature his father lacked. When Marixe the martyr got close enough and started his downward swing, Carafus stepped to the side, grabbed the dull side of the blade, and used its momentum to swing all the way around, cutting Marixe in half; then he unsheathed his dagger and stabbed down where the body lay split in half. The dagger sucked up all the blood.
Barron was speechless. He had never seen anyone move that fast before. There was something unnatural about the King. Captain Baycliff could only watch as Carafus dismantled the initial attack without even breaking a sweat. Again the king stood and looked at the wingship. Damnit. Baycliff said through gritted teeth. "We should retreat, right, sir?" Another crew member asked. Captain Baycliff said nothing in response. The wingship was still in a slow glide around Godshand. Now more foot soldiers appeared from the castle nestled in the hands.
"We're not done yet," Baycliff said angrily. Before he could send another crew, Carafus wound up his dagger and aimed it at the wingship. This got Baycliff's attention. "BRACE!" He shouted.
The wingship rocked like it was just hit by a wave! All the crew members hit the deck with a slam. But how was that possible in the air? Barron stood up quickly and looked around. One of the masts that held the laser guns had been sliced clean through, and blood covered the sails!
"Retreat!" Baycliff finally shouted, turning the wheel to avoid any further attacks. The wings were folded in again, and the engines drove the wingship up into the clouds, away from danger.
"I've never seen a man move like that. How is that possible Captain?"
The crew gathered around Baycliff, as the wingship docked and was retethered. "He's just a man." The Captain said and nothing else. He walked to the castle alone. He had just suffered another defeat. The men knew they were lucky to make it out alive. Carafus' skill was breathtaking to witness. Barron and the crewmen knew there was more than what the Captain was saying. He was more than just a human; he had to be something more. Neverheaven was full of humans that couldn't move like that.
Maybe the legends about him were true. Perhaps Barron's mother was right.
The Empyrean was quiet that night.
No music was played by the band. No victory festival was planned. The main table had plenty of food, but the Captain couldn't eat. He kept replaying the king's eyes in his mind, over and over again. They were cold. Empty. Grey. Familiar.
He had to come up with a new plan. The other men at the table were murmuring about the battle. "Not much of a battle", said one. "He cut Marixe in half!" Said another. "In one swift move", yet another continued. Captain Baycliff heard all of this, and it only added to his frustration. He slammed his fist on the table. "Damnit, he's a man! I didn't plan our attack well enough. I failed!" He shouted. The others went dead silent, and it echoed throughout the main hall. His wife, Barron's mother stood, walked to her husband, and gently put her hand on top of his. She whispered something unintelligible in Baycliff's ear, and they left the table together. As they walked away she stopped, turned toward the head chef, and told him to bring out the beer. "We shall return shortly."
"My love, I know this day didn't go to your liking, but consider that you only lost one willing soldier."
"Yes."
"You are a good Captain. Your men know this.
They saw what Carafus did to that soldier. All of them, including Barron.
Barron is a young man now. If he doesn't see the horrors of our land. Yes, our land. Then he isn't ready to join the fleet. How did he react?" After she asked this, she let down her curly raven hair and started kissing his neck.
"Shocked. As was I, I suppose. I've seen that man take down a trio of mutant kind with that dagger. I didn't know he could do that kind of damage?"
shhhh she whispered in his ear. Her hands knew how to handle her husband. Her lips were warm, and her tongue was lovely.
"He almost took out the Condor." This got her attention.
"Really? From the ground?"
"Yes. Don't stop."
He ran his fingers through her hair. It was always so soft. Delicate but durable. He grabbed a handful and pulled her close to him. Her hair was his favorite color. She undid his belt buckle?.
Barron had woken up early. Something in his dream sounded like the earth was shaking. Earthquakes were uncommon, but not unheard of. He chalked it up to the Neverheaven shifting things around again.
He walked through the main hall. The fireplace coals were still slightly burning. Their castle in the clouds benefitted from the warm sun.
His mother also came out to the main hall in a royal robe. They sat by the fire together. "May I ask you a question, my queen?"
"Barron, you do not need to rely on ceremonial language; you may still call me Mother."
"Mother. Who was that man, this king Carafus, at Godshand?"
She straightened her back. Even though her robe was closed up around her neck, and the fire was still burning, she grabbed the collar and pulled it tighter. "King Carafus is just a man. But he's more than that, isn't he? Unlike your father, unlike our kind, he was born here. The first man to be, so they say."
Suddenly, the earth-shaking noise returned. Barron and his mother went to a window. "It's the Carrion bear!" His mother said with a sense of excitement; but the bear wasn't scouring the wasteland with his rider, to look for potential converts, no, it was running away from something...
What could scare something of that size? had something comparable been sighted? Barron had heard rumors of the dragon of Draithaim, but the Neverheaven was full of rumors. Deception gave power here. There were more rumors that a man had been seen running at extraordinary speeds through the desert, leaving dust storms in his wake. Should investigate further, he made a mental note.
No one of Corsair kind, born within the Neverheaven or otherwise had been born with any beyond human abilities. The Goddess Call'ath must grant them upon a visit, but the Corsairs are said to be cursed by their founder; he rejected Call'ath and she threw him out of her otherworldly kingdom of Divinity. He opened Call'ath's gate, which one can only reach through immolation. She saw his true intentions and cast him back into the sand.
Now, sixty-eight years later, Captain Baycliff sought to have a child that could venture to Divinity and acquire those abilities. Barron's heart desired to look upon Call'ath and he wouldn't leave until he was blessed. His father; his people deserved to be looked upon with respect. "My queen...Mother, I must set out on my own. I need to. I do not belong here right now. I haven't even been in a real fight!"
"It's true that your father wants you to bring him glory in battle, as any young Corsair would. Neverheaven needs strong warriors, Barron."
"I will bring our family, our people the blessings we deserve."
"I beg you not to go back to Godshand. Carafus will destroy you. I do not question your heart, but that man has been blessed by the Gods. Try the northern territory, son. There is no shame in starting small. You may have a better chance to refine yourself there."
"Yes, mother." Barron was disappointed that he wasn't a strong man. He was the Captain's son. One day he will have to live up to the reputation of being harsh when needed and to know when to show mercy. Whilst his father was sleeping, Barron set off. He was dropped down by a tether to the unending sand. He started walking.
His first stop must be the wolf King; there might be water there. The steps to the black forest were disorienting; they went on for what seemed like miles. As he descended further, he saw redwood trees! He had only read about them in old texts. He felt strange. The black forest relaxed him until he grew tired. He kept walking. The Wolf King was hidden from the hot sand; his kingdom was built in the darkness. The sound of running water called him to a creek. It wound its way through the moss-covered ground until it came to an opening. He was greeted by an inhabitant who called himself Babyface. A very deformed remnant of a human being. Despite the horrible nature of Babyface, his smile was comforting. He led Barron through the opening, a little further until they to the foot of the King's throne. It was the biggest throne he had ever seen. He slowly looked up at the wolf King, who looked down at him. His head was light gray. The fur was well groomed. Barron thought it was odd that he only appeared to be a wolf on his head. The rest of his body was still human. Those that had been exposed to the Neverheaven their whole lives had some form of mutation; therefore, none of the Corsair kind were larger than regular humans, or growing an extra limb, thank the gods, he thought. The gift of being born a giant would have benefits, even if he did have a wolf's head. Not being able to see the sun would be difficult.
Barron did not envy Morgana, the king's sister. Her story will be told in time. The King's speech was slow but calculated.
"Why are you here, son of Baycliff?" The wolf's voice boomed.
"You know who I am?"
"Yes. I know your father."
"I am seeking my purpose."
"A noble goal. But why are you 'here'?"
"I hear you might know about the Carrion kind?"
"Indeed. Are you seeking to assimilate or conquer?"
"Conquer."
"Sloan, their leader, is a fierce warrior. He does not often lose."
"But he has? To whom?"
"Your people. He swore it wouldn't happen again. I believe him."
"Then what would you suggest?"
"Travel to the northern wall."
"What's there?"
"We are unsure. That is where you must go. Then I will grant your wish of gaining information on the Carrion kind; as you call them."
"What happens if I encounter the Carrion kind on the way?
"The Carrions are not known to travel that far north. They must stay within their toxic plain. Or else they cannot regenerate."
"I saw their bear traversing in the north."
The king grew silent
"Interesting. Perhaps Sloan is beginning to convert once again.
If you should encounter him, run, or fight him. There is another option that may work. If you state that you are connected to me, he may let you leave with your head, or at least only your skin removed. Now you must go. The Carrions are more likely to travel at night when the blood sun is cooler."
"I need water."
"Fill your flask with my living water, use my springs as needed."
Barron made the treacherous climb back up the steps into the warm of the night.
"You sent my son into the desert? Without my permission!"
"Our son, Solomon. Ours. I birthed him, like the baby I now carry. They both will carry on our legacy! And yes, without your permission."
"Woman, he can barely take care of himself here!"
"That's why he wanted to go, Solomon! He wanted to make himself a man you would be proud of."
Baycliff sighed
"Where did he go?"
Barron awoke on the first step of the black forest. He could still smell the redwood trees. The ethereal wind that inexplicably blew beneath the earth, spun the scent up to his nostrils. He hadn't smelt trees before. It was still night. As night as it could get. He saw large dunes ahead of him. His heart was beating heavily. "Over that must be the northern wall." He resumed his journey.
The sun finally came up. The northern dunes came into view. Barron was teetering on a sense of dread and excitement. The climb up the softer sand filled his boots to the brim. Once he was able to firmly stand on the compacted sand, he pulled out a piece of fallen bark from one of the intimidating trees. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent. His mind went back to the river in the black forest. He was grateful that he didn't encounter the Carrion kind. He thought of heading back to the King and giving a false report, but he was too far to turn back. He wasn't fit to wear the Corsair coat if he gave up. When he opened his eyes again, he saw it.
The wall.
A dense fog rose off the dunes, separating the northern boundary from the rest of the unending desert. "What is this place? Why would this wall stop the Carrion kind? I wish we could see this together, Father."
The wall reached high and stretched as far as his eyes could see. Barron had been preoccupied with climbing and getting lost in his thoughts, that he failed to notice the sickly green tint the sky had adopted. He immediately fell on his face. There was no way of knowing if he had been spotted. If he had, they, whoever they were, haven't made a move yet. He slid down the dune on his belly until the sand became hard again. The wall had no windows. The indents in it didn't allow Barron to see through. He touched it. It was covered in mucus! "What is this?" He then noticed a place in the wall where he could fit his hands; and more places higher up. He started to climb once again.
The top of the wall began to crumble under his fingers. He found a firm place and lifted himself to the ledge and caught his breath. Then the pods came into view.
in the ground, there lay hundreds of translucent podlike sacs. The immediate area around them was covered in more of the mucus; now in a more concentrated form, was a dark green color.
Some of the sacs shifted. Now Barron could see they looked like bubbles with something inside. He remained still. A faint pounding sound rose above the slight hum he had been hearing. He started to feel the pounding in his ears; then he felt his heart. It was beating out of his chest. He laid down on top of the wall and closed his eyes.
squelch
He opened his eyes again. He lifted his head sideways, to get his eyes just barely over the wall. One of the sacs had burst open. A gelatinous liquid poured out onto the sand. it took him a moment to notice the skinny black line that was lying on the outside of the sac; until it started moving. Wiggling what appeared to be fingers.
The hand dug into the sand to pull whatever it was out of the sac. A head appeared, then the torso and finally the back legs. It sat in the sand and shook off the mucus. The thing then spread out the wings on its back; Barron noted that they reminded him of dragonfly wings. Once the thing was done cleaning itself off, it sniffed around the area of the other sacs, whilst fluttering its wings. Then it let out a deafening screech, and the other sacs started shifting!
Barron became very afraid. He ducked his head behind the upper wall and pulled his jacket over his head, in an attempt to dull the noise of more screeches.
squelch
He heard it again, and again. The sacs were hatching!
Soon though, the squelches turned to a loud hum of buzzing and clicking. He was in trouble. "Father." He thought, "Help me." He left without saying goodbye. Would he ever see him again?
Suddenly the sky was filled with the buzzing sound. Those things were flying away. He wanted to scream to drown out the noise.
Then he felt the top of the wall shake. One of them landed near him. He gently lowered his hand toward his belt, reaching for his father's Corsair knife...
The End.
