Bridgeworlds: Deep Flux (2 page)

Blimps need a
turbo-propeller engines
to move forward. The Musterlings
had created an engine, but it was made of a special metal found only on
Soterion. Fifty years ago, in the mountains of Loefel Meren, it had been found
by a team of miner Magi who called it Deanatee. It looked like copper but was
lighter and more durable.

There were many gears on the steam engine. Those from Musterion and
Soterion had taken more to steam power than electric and Omar allowed this
amongst the Magi.
Why make them follow the same path Earth did?
It was
almost an experiment to Omar.
Give them science and see where they go with it.
Some Magi liked electric and cybernetic science but most preferred steam
power and clockwork-like gears. This brought about a split amongst the Magi.
Omar watched closely as this happened but deemed it a healthy split.

There were two types of Magi and the most outwardly noticeable
difference was in fashion. The Neonates wore almost Victorian era clothing
usually using the colors of brown, white, and copper. The Neonates would
incorporate leather straps, piping, gears, goggles, and steam into their outfits.
The other group was the scholars. The scholars wore simple robes looking more
like a traditional monk. Omar tended to dress as one or the other showing
neither favor. Today he was dressed as a Neonate with a brown leather top hat
that had copper piping and a few gears, a monocle that glowed green, and an
outfit that had gears in different places. The gears, though they looked to be
only for decorative purposes all functioned as part of a deployment system lined
into Omar's clothing that allowed him to select tubes filled with liquids and
powders that he would use in the sleight of hand/science skill that he would call
slight of science.

The battle raged on as Omar overlooked a victory for the people of
Soterion from hundreds of feet in the air. “Column after column of soldiers,
from every nation’s army, advanced relentlessly on the enemy’s position.
Though it would have been nice to have had the help of Myles Callaghan, a
master of strategy, it looked like King Alagaar was quite adept at strategy
himself and Omar was now looking down at the fruit of the Kings’ mastery.
Though it seemed that Myles had made an enemy of King Alagaar for the Magi,
the King had not been hesitant to use them and their abilities to win this battle.

The smell of scorched earth wafted up on the breeze. The sounds of
crowds letting out battle cries all at once echoed in the night air. “For Caelsis
and the Queen,” called thousands of voices of small faeries. “In the name of
Adoni,” called the armies of Suchikos as they felled Drakoni warriors and beasts.
And the Raphad hummed a tune that rumbled the earth and rose up clear even
to Omar’s position hundreds of feet above the battle field. Though through all of
the other noises of battle Omar could not make out the tune, he knew it from
fighting alongside the Raphad. It was a sad solemn tune as if they hated to kill
even these evil putrid Drakoni and only did so out of necessity. For such a large
formidable race they were the ones that liked violence the least. They had
proven to be far less barbaric than Omar had suspected with a majestic and
regal air of ominous beauty to them.

The Drakoni kept coming by the thousands but archers in formations led
by the Malakadam of Loefel Meren let loose volley after volley of arrows. They
flew true between the Nepsah (visible only through Omar's monocle) and Gabad
in formations above all of the other races below. The Drakoni ranks jumped
down a dip in the field only to be nailed back by the archers.

King Alagaar launched his second column, the horsemen led by the
Raphad. Raphad riders on their horses, named Rapha-Parash, dwarfed the
tundra horses ridden by the other riders. These horses were over twenty feet
tall. Their hides were off white with gray metallic speckles. Long strands of
silver hair weaved through their manes, underbellies, and lower legs. The
intimidating force of Raphad, in their standard high-polished armor and saddled
in Rapha-Parash, rode forward with the sound of platinum hooves against grass
thundering through the field of Ether.

The third column was made up of Adam, Gabad, Daqad, Am Mayim, and
Yaarma (the 'regular' sized races). With brutal deliberation, the third column
began to advance. It was much larger than both the two columns that had
already come forward. Each of the two columns were about the size of the
Drakoni Army.

A team of subsurface Drakoni dug a trench for their army but it was
quickly made useless, as it was uncovered and filled with bodies. The Soterion
column had managed to maneuver such that they threatened the flanks of the
Drakoni line. The Drakoni fell back and began to try to make a formation using
shields and pikes but a few of the Magi (who were dispersed throughout the
armies equally) gathered and quickly scattered it by throwing toxic gas
projectiles into their midst.

As these Drakoni were taken down another two columns of their army
surfaced from tunnels beneath the earth. Though the Drakoni did this time and
again throughout the battle, it seemed that they were sending fewer soldiers
each time. Still Omar was perplexed as to why they had not decimated the
forces of the Drakoni. They just kept coming.

Omar looked at the battlefield in awe, primarily at the lack of casualties
on the side of the Kingdoms. A gust of wind blew hard allowing Omar to survey
the beautiful site.

The Magi had made a huge difference in the battle using science to
confound the enemy. These Drakoni were formidable foes but not when faced
with Magi sleight-of-science. Omar had dispersed his controlled cache of Earth
and Soterion Weapons amongst the Magi. With decades of training, the
Alexandros – the warrior caste of the Magi – had become masters of weaponry.

Omar had a specialized rocket launcher attached to his shoulder. It was
armed with rockets that could level a small village. This was his fail safe. Omar
had made it so that he could flip a switch on his copper arm bracer and the
gears throughout his outfit would set in motion to activate the steam powered
weapon. So far it looked as though it would not be needed today.

He used the advanced telescope in his monocle to see the armies of
Soterion crushing the remnant of the Drakoni army. One person stood out
amongst the chaos. Though he was in the midst of a crowd of Drakoni he moved
quickly and Drakoni fell like dominos around him. There was a fluidity and grace
to his fighting style that was almost like a dance. It felt familiar to Omar. He
fought with a staff against swords and axes dropping his enemies with blunt
force blows and then the man did something unmistakable to Omar. While
hitting a Drakoni Overlord in the face with his staff it first glowed and then the
end of the staff exploded into fire sending the Overlord reeling back clutching
his neck where he had been struck. Omar knew that staff: he had made it
himself.
No, it can’t be… It is, it’s Myles!
Omar had always been amazed and
even intimidated at Myles’ uncanny ability to fight. After years of thinking that
Myles had died, there he was on the field of battle.

What he saw next sent his mind spinning.
He’s teleporting!
Myles was
teleporting through the ranks of the Drakoni finishing them off once and for all.
Omar counted in just a few minutes he had made waste of 52 Drakoni. Omar
smiled at the thought of Myles. He always had some card up his sleeve that
surprised Omar. He watched Myles take down enemy after enemy utilizing the
teleportation skill showing his mastery of the ability to use it in battle.

How did he find teleportation? Where has he been all this time?
But all
of these questions were lost in one moment. It had only been a brief second and
a subtle move from a Drakoni that Myles had not seen as he teleported to one
spot, the positioning was bad and wrong leaving Myles' back completely open to
a Drakoni already turning from slaying a Gabad with sword in hand. Omar
wanted to warn Myles but he was speechless, caught in the moment, and too
high for Myles to hear him anyway. The Drakoni turned to see Myles taking
down two Drakoni unaware of his presence. The Drakoni thrust the sword into
Myles’ back and he fell to the ground. There was no way he could have survived
that sword through the center of his body. He fell, lifeless. Omar yelled out,
reaching his hand toward the battle field, “No!”

But Omar’s attention was quickly drawn away from the image of his
friend lying dead on the ground. He heard a rumble from the east; the winds
shifted, pushing the blimp. He looked towards the sound to see a storm cloud
rapidly spreading from above a volcano. The earth shook as the volcano erupted
and a large silhouette rose from the lava spewing from the mountain. Had it
taken flight? Was this some unknown Drakoni enemy? Omar readied himself to
activate the launcher by positioning his body in the direction of the approaching
mass.

Omar stood there staring, stuck in the moment and unable to move. At
that distance… its size… it must be massive.
What is it?
Omar kept asking in his
mind. It moved with supernatural speed and was now approaching quickly.
When Omar saw it in all of its horrible glory, he let out a gasp. It was The Great
Red Dragon that his old assistant Tyree had described to him. It was one thing to
hear a monster spoken of and an entirely different matter to see it in person.
Omar could feel goose bumps start to rise on his arms and the hair at the back
of his neck raise. It looked directly at Omar, or so it seemed to him, bearing
down on him impossibly fast. Omar hesitated for a moment and then sent a
rocket flying at the massive dragon. If only Omar had brought the matter
displacement chip that he had gotten from Tyree… but there was no time to
think of regrets now.

Omar watched as the rocket hit and bounced off of the dragon’s scales
and fell to the ground never exploding.
Was it a dud? These rockets have been
field tested.
But then the laughter came. It was a wicked sinister laughter. Not
audible; it resounded in Omar’s mind.

As the Dragon dove to attack, its tail whirled around and struck the
blimp ripping through it like butter and leaving a man sized gash. Before Omar
could fly away he was thrown back by the force of the balloon ripping and
letting out all of the air. Like when someone lets go of an untied but blown up
balloon, the blimp rocketed south and east. All Omar could do was hold on.

He felt helpless: a feeling alien to Omar these days. Fear struck him as
he saw how fast the scenery blurred by. He loosed his wings from the hidden
flaps in his outfit and tried fly away. It was a desperate attempt but as he
suspected, the amount of g-force acting on his body at this moment would not
allow him to even flap. Instead of flying, his wings were pinned to the deck of
the platform
. I don’t want to die
, he thought in despair.
I don’t want this
existence to end; I have come so far… accomplished so much here.

Tears rolled down Omar’s cheeks. He began to have what he imagined
was a panic attack. There was a pain in his chest and he could only take short
breaths. He felt as though someone was choking him; his throat felt so tight.

Omar looked to either side, barley able to move his neck because of the
g-forces. His stomach dropped as the blimp plunged and hit the ground with
such force that it rocked his entire body. The skyship broke apart, tearing his
skin and snapping his bones. Omar felt intense pain and pressure but then he
couldn’t feel anything below his neck.

Then all was still. Blood mixed into his tears tinting his vision.
I never
found poor Misaki…
he thought desperately as darkness swallowed him and he
fell unconscious.

MYLES LOOKED AROUND.
Is this real? Or is it another dream?
His vision
was blurred.
Am I drunk?
Confusion engulfed him. Last he remembered he had
been dreaming that he was sleeping on a sheet of ice and all was dark around
him except for an albino cat. As if looking on from above, Myles could see
himself sleeping. The white cat circled his prone body and pawed at him a few
times before it climbed on top of him, walked up to his face, and lay down on it.
The cat was smothering him in his sleep. Myles felt panic come over him, but he
could do nothing. He could feel himself begin to choke and cough as the cat
perplexingly looked at him with love. His body started to rot as his arms flailed
helplessly, but just when Myles' arms fell to his sides motionless, a man who
wore a hooded robe of white and walked with a shepherd’s staff approached
the cat. He stroked its fur a few times while it looked to him and down to Myles
as if pleading for help. The shepherd nodded to the feline, and, for just a
moment, the cat glowed. It looked at Myles, bent over his face, and began to
breathe life into him again. But as Myles' body was restored, the cat's body
decayed in exchange and blew away in the wind.

This time Myles was in his own body in a gambling hall. He could feel
the hard wood stool that he sat on and it was good to be reunited with his own
body after the previous dream. His vision was beginning to come back to him. It
was a dimly lit room with a cement floor and ornately designed red and gold
wallpaper. Smoke hung in the air as laughter echoed the hall. It was an empty,
forced laughter that Myles knew all too well… the laughter of people trying to
drown their sorrows in drunken stupors. He knew everyone there and half
seemed to be having a good time.

Omar was playing cards with the other members of the council of the
Magi; King Alagaar of Marasimlah, King Pacal of Suchikos, and a Miyka king he
couldn't name who kept rubbing his head as if he had a terrible headache.

Omar and his companions laughed as the dealer kept passing them
cards. Their hands were bad, but the worse the cards were, the more excited
the players became. Myles glanced at the dealer and a chill ran down his spine.
It was Haylale; the devil himself. He was staring at Myles with icy blue eyes,
alight in his radiant human form. A sinister grin stretched across his face as he
tossed the cards to his players without even looking at them. Haylale wore a
light grey robe stained with blood. Myles could see a great wound running down
from his right shoulder, across his chest, and to his left hip; but Haylale didn't
seem to mind and kept smiling.