Ionaecius

Contains moderate language and violence. Feedback of any kind is appreciated, whether it is something with grammar or something technical.

It was the twilight of his third day on the Green Line and four days since he departed from the regional capital. His legs were crossed, and his left foot tapped a fitting and familiar tune in the air. His hair hung around his head and--along with the many pine boughs over him--veiled his sullen face from the bright red sun. The small pile of dry sticks and needles before him burned well and bright and brought warmth to his tired feet. ‘No doubt,’ he thought, ‘my old capital would be burning now, as well.’ Occasionally, the wind wafted puffs of piney smoke into his nose.

To the west and before his feet, the asylum forest ended at the bottom of a sloped decline some hundred yards away, and beyond that were fields near ripe for the harvest, far farmers’ houses and a blood-red sun closing the day. But, the fields would have no harvest this year, and the farmers’ houses had had no tenants since the crops grew green and full. Their porches had veils of their own weaved by indifferent spiders. A disheartening had come to the people of the world by the name Green Line, a discontent with the substantial existence their crops and their leaders provided. Garethoe’s words had roused them. They came via one of his many mouths, on this world an eloquent Aesus contemptuous of The Imperior and soft in the tongue. He had come to the places of gathering: the mills, the shopping towns, the spaceports, and the churches. Many listened, and many followed his words.

To the east and his rear, a fixture more permanent than the cold lights in the night sky, a caelumens, cast long thick shadows over the past day’s route. It was a sturdy remnant of their ancient selves built for control and serving even to that day. Its curved, spiked arms loomed behind him and his company. It was beyond his and most other Aesi’s knowledge how the ancient machines like it worked, but everyone knew the results of their functions: weather hardly changed, mountains were kept from erosion, stars burned far longer and consistently, and planets nary moved from specific orbits.

They had seen the structure throughout the few days they had been traveling, and it served as a guide post through hours of light and night. He was the only one who did not stop and wonder at the structure when they reached it earlier in the afternoon. His mind had visited it the day before as he plotted their course of action far ahead of where they already were.

The cause of his arrival lay to his left, the brother dozing with his face in the shade and the sister drawing figures in the sand. They were far out of their element for they were the heirs to the human line who ostensibly ruled the planet and pledged loyalty to The Imperior, but it had not always been so. Nearly a hundred and fifty solar cycles ago, the world (quite barren and unforgiving then) was acquired by one of The Imperior’s generals. A good many of the colonial humans from Empirialis and all of the natives of the world initially resisted the acquisition but soon relented upon witnessing the fruitful paradise the conquerors gifted to those humans who aided them. And so, the planet was remade green and part of the Imperiix Aesi’s fortified border against the Human Royalty of Empirialis.

The two to his right, the lad Dain and Sariah the young lady, were the last of the human families who aided the forces of The Imperior and gained the right to rule. “Miser Aesicus,” it was Sariah asking of him.

“Yes?”

“When do you think we will be getting back to someplace a bit more,” she looked down at her dusty and stained skirt, “civil?” Aesicus looked into the fire and recalled the past three days.

It was bright that day, not a single cloud as far as the horizon in all directions. Aesicus and his small crew had arrived rather inconspicuously at the planet’s seat and departed immediately for the town where the heirs had sought refuge as riots began to erupt across the planet. They arrived in the night of the first day in time to stop the heirs’ servants from assassinating them. Dain and Sariah understandably were rather shocked by the treachery, and progress was slow that night. In the morning, they were far from the seat, and rioter blockades of the roads denied them access to their shuttle and the only spaceport on the continent. Despite his best efforts to maneuver around the rebelling humans, no way could be found into the city and their salvation. So, early before sunrise on the third day, Aesicus turned the group away from the seat and back into the farmlands.

“Not on this world,” he said, “Not now.” Sariah looked back down and continued to draw in the dust. Aesicus arched his back and looked at the spiked array arcing down into the sky. Most of the fighting during this civil strife had clustered around the core systems and the capital world. The two sides had stalemated on nearly every world and at nearly every battle site within and without the Imperiix, and the rift between brethren was spreading to all the worlds within their state. Fortified border worlds like the Green Line were crafted and maintained to protect against invaders, but now, they were crumbling from within. ‘With this world descending into chaos, too,’ Aesicus thought, ‘Empirialis will soon send an army to come and take it for itself.’ Aesicus grimaced at the accompanying thought, ‘No doubt all borders will be gnawed on by our enemies: from the southwest by Empirialis, from the north and northeast by the Azazeus, and from the south by the newcomer Earth.’ Aesicus sighed and returned to his seat by the fire. The other Aesi of his group returned from their surveillance of the local countryside.

“Curator, this should be a safe place to camp for the night,” it was Marcalia the oldest and highest ranked of the others--Aesicus was not entirely sure of their names, “The closest structures are quite abandoned, and the road appears to bear only occasional light traffic.” Aesicus traced a light circle around his lips.

“Post your soldiers around as you see it wise, and have a few cook some vittles for our guests, if you will it.”

“Of course, curator. Anything additional, curator?”

“No, for now that is all.” Marcalia saluted and returned to the circle of unmasked soldiers at the edge of the coming night’s campsite. Aesicus watched as she pointed out several positions to be taken up and explained the watch rotation. Finally, the commander directed the sole human of the soldier group to a pack where Aesicus was seated. The group dispersed, and the watchmen took their positions as the human gathered cooking supplies. Marcalia was among those going to the watch, and she paused by Aesicus.

“I will be part of the watch for the first two shifts till late in the night. I will not be joining for the evening meal, curator.”

“Do not call me ‘curator.’ It rings hollow in my ears.” Marcalia’s face became more intense.

“Free tongues such as that lead to the chaos that envelops us presently, and you know that quite well, curator.” Aesicus covered his eyes with his hand. A soft breeze refreshed the smell of pine and mingled the warm and cool places on the back of his hand. She had left for her self-assigned duty, and Aesicus whispered into flowing air, “You misinterpret The Imperior’s words, soldier. ‘Twas heedless ears that led us to this chaos.”

***

The night passed without event, and morning’s grey light saw the group moving into the wide and clear farmlands outside of a small town. As they neared, Aesicus sent two lightly equipped soldiers into the town to assess the friendliness of the folk and, whether or not they were kind, use the communications array to send for whatever aid they could receive.

With the soldiers dispatched, Aesicus directed the group to a small farm cottage on a hill overlooking the town. The place was deserted, and a thin line of trees kept local eyes on the dirt road from seeing anything suspicious. It was quaint in styiling, but whoever the owner had been, they had at least been someone of military importance. An engraved ceremonial axe hung on a plaque above the hearth.

They ate and kept quiet. Carts would pass, and the calm of the ripe farmlands washed over those within the abandoned cottage. A place such as that surely could hold no one with ill will toward them or anyone.

Yet, as the sun began a fall toward the horizon, a lone Aesus returning from the town brought their hopes all down to the filthy ground.


Aesicus rushed to the door and hurried the wounded soldier into the house. The Aesic armor the soldier wore no longer adapted its color to its surroundings, and a thin line of red wavered from a hole and crack in the chest. Aesicus brought the soldier to a chair and sat him down. “Tell me, what has happened?” The soldier pushed several buttons on his left wrist, and the armor began to return to its former functionality.

“Sirus and I immediately sought the communications relay near the town’s center. But, we had to move very slowly. There was a speaker--one of Garethoe’s in any likelihood--at the square who had drawn quite a crowd. Sirus managed to put an encrypted signal through imparting our location and force stats. But a kid or someone short or maybe an ugly came into the control room as we were leaving. Sirus shot for a non-lethal hit, but they screamed bloody death afterward. We got separated dodging the groups running through the streets, and I ended up hiding in a dumpster at the near side of the town. The last I saw Sirus, he had just come out from a garage slammed--yet still living--against the front of a vehicle bound for the square. Aesicus, I saw him raised up on a pike as I left.” Aesicus nodded slowly and walked to one of the windows facing the town. Marcalia came beside him. “Should we leave? Perhaps go by the caelumens as we came here by.”

“No,” Marcalia answered, “Birds and a few venturous beasts flee from the north and east. Someone in large numbers is coming that way and maybe even following our trail. We would be intercepted and killed.”

“Then we shall stay here,” Aesicus responded.

“And hope for a quick rescue,” Sariah finished. She had come behind both of them while the murderous town held their gaze.

Ionaecius

The afternoon was spent in preparation for assault. What unimportant furniture rested in the small domicile was used to barricade windows and fortify positions. Several tense moments passed when the sounds of humans blasted through the quiet of the day, but they were headed to places other than the cottage upon the knoll.

Yet, the last of the groups paused at the grass where the wounded soldier retreated. Aesicus watched them stop with unblinking eyes and held his breath as one woman pointed along the soldier’s path clear the cottage itself. Then, the group halved, one continued along the road, the other returned to the town. Aesicus let his head rest against the wood stuck into the window. “Damn” was all he said.

***

The sun set, and the soldiers counted ammunition. The commander pointed positions, and the human boy sat in a dark kitchen corner. Aesicus noticed him and walked over.

“What is it that you are doing with your hands and head, if I may ask?”

“I am praying,” Dain whispered.

“To the Redeemer?”

“Yes.” There was a pause as Aesicus watched the boy silently move his lips. Then, the Aesus sat with him against the wall.

“It gives you comfort to do this thing?”

“Yes.”

“How? Why?”

“It reminds me--and ensures for me--that there is always a good and welcome place for me, a place that is always there and unconquerable.” Dain finished his silent conversation and continued. “As for why, it gives me hope to know that someone infinitely wise and good is at the helm of my life’s ship.”

“That would be nice,” Aesicus said. Ammunition clips clinked together near the front of the cottage, and a small cloud of dust hung the air in front of the Aesus and the human boy. Then, Dain looked up from the floor at the curator next to him.

“I could say a prayer for you, Aesus.” Aesicus looked down into Dain’s eyes. The skin around was slightly red and puffy, and the boy’s cheeks gleamed the far setting sun’s last lights. Aesicus doubted that he would see man more sunsets or friendly faces, and the thought of something so dutiful in faith and so naïve in hope receiving the irrational rage of the mob stabbed at Aesicus’s mind and heart.

“No, I think I am about to slaughter too many of his lambs for him to embrace me.” Aesicus stood up and brushed his knees. “No, no prayer for me. For you, the spirit is what is forever. For us Aesi, it is the flesh that lasts; our shades fade swiftly.”

“Just the same,” Dain quietly answered, “I think I will say a prayer for you.”

“I would like that.”

***

The sun was gone, and the humans made their presence known. Orange torches lit a circle around the cottage, and the Aesi gathered around the windows. Despite the ominous scene in front of them, what drew they attention were the flashing lights high up in the nigh sky. At the window where Aesicus stood watching, one of the soldiers saluted the stars.

“That’s our rescue,” he said, “There will be no dieing for us or them tonight. We are getting off this world,” he paused and turned to the curator, “right Aesicus?” Opposed to the soldier’s optimistic tone, Aesicus’s melancholy voice raked hope away.

“No, there will be no rescue in time. They are fighting up there just like we shall be.”

***

“Armed vessels, you are bearing within my flight path. Disarm and disperse at once or face military action.” The captain nodded for the communications officer to send the message through. A report quickly came from one of the watchmen.

“Captain Cicerus, the far starboard ship and middle ship are charging their heavy weapons. The far port ship has opened missile hatches.” The captain stood and poured a thickly purple liquid into a crystal cup on his console. He took a swig of the alcohol and gave his orders.

“Shield energy redirect three quarters starboard. Open torpedo bays one through four and target the far starboard and far port vessels with standard ordinance. Prepare gun deck personnel, and alert our landing teams. I want to recapture that commandeered vessel in the middle. Have one landing team prepare to search the area indicated by the message.” The same watchman reported once more.

“The far starboard ship has opened fire!” Cicerus gripped the command console tightly as a rumble shook the ship from starboard to port.

“Return fire,” the captain calmly commanded. Images on monitors around the bridge displayed torpedoes being launched and cannons being manned and fired. One of the monitors at Cicerus’s command console displayed a team of grey-armored soldiers loading onto a sleek darkly-colored transport. Explosions rocked the far starboard ship as both cannon fire and torpedoes blew apart the hull in several sections.

“Transports are away,” another of the watchmen reported. A moment later she continued, “Sir, the far stern hangar is still open. They haven’t even begun sealing procedures, and I am unable to contact the hangar chief.” Cicerus brought up the video screen of the stern hangar. Sure enough, the bay doors hung open, and there appeared to be no one throughout the hangar. Cicerus hurriedly dialed the communications call number for the hangar chief.

“Anitus, are you experiencing any trouble down there,” he asked trying to mask the concern in his voice. Cicerus waited for a few seconds. There was no response. A watchman signaled for the captain to turn on a private channel. Cicerus drew back from the console and tapped the button on his chair to open the private link. “Go ahead watchman, I am listening.”

“Lighting systems have failed in two passages from the unanswering hangar, and security monitoring systems have failed in another. I susp-”

“I know very well what you suspect, and I appreciate your discretion.” Cicerus stood up from his chair and spoke loud and clear to the bridge crew. “My crew and charge, we have been boarded and subtlety, too. All non-essential personnel will now report to Dominus Marcus for armaments. I shall report to the ship crew that we shall engage protocol fifteen.” Cicerus pulled Marcus aside. “Marcus, if you would be so kind as to alert the security teams, discreetly, I would be much obliged.” The communications officer nodded and whispered into his headset. Cicerus withdrew back up to his perch and unclipped his side arm’s holster. “So much for an easy rescue,” he complained.

***

The humans had come within attacking range while the Aesi--save for one--eagerly awaited transport. The mob attacked quickly and surprisingly quietly with an odd assortment of firearms both ancient and new. Aesicus barely discerned the human figures bringing long black things up to their shoulders, but once he realized what they were doing, he acted without hesitation. He shoved Dain and Sariah to the floor and shouted to the others, “They attack! Get to the floor!” Two of the soldiers remained standing, perhaps not hearing what he said based on the empty looks they wore, and fell with the report of the mob’s weapons. The one who fell closest to Aesicus, the one whose face and shattered head was inches from Aesicus, was the one who had had such hope for quick and bloodless rescue. Marcalia looked up to Aesicus for agreement to counter. The curator nodded hastily as he pushed the stunned humans into the restroom. Marcalia stood up and brought her weapon to bear on the mob.

“Return fire,” she commanded. The remaining soldiers performed admirably and despite the dark, every visible human who held a gun fell back wounded or dead. The outside was silent, but the torches remained.

Suddenly, large bonfires lit up around the small makeshift fort. “Damn, can’t see a thing,” one of the soldiers shouted.

“There is someone running at us,” another shouted. There were several shots fired, but they missed their mark. Something broke through the window at the front and thudded on the floorboards. A soldier from behind Aesicus rushed forward.

“One of Sirus’s grenades,” he screamed and dove over the ordinance. Aesicus pulled the bathroom door shut and willed out the sickening sound of flesh and bone being torn. Aesicus staggered out of the bathroom ignoring the hard pit in his gut that formed at the sight of the torn soldier lain out through the room. There were four of them now, Aesicus included, to defend the two heirs.

Aesicus took up the slain soldier’s weapon and whispered a benediction to his distant ruler. Marcalia come over to him. “Take this,” she said, “Attach it in this tube at the bottom of the rifle. Aim about five men over the crowd and launch with this button.”

“What is this,” Aesicus asked. Marcalia smirked.

“It will take of them.” Aesicus turned back to the window and looked through the rifle’s sights. The night was deep, but the bonfire made even the faces nearly recognizable. There were plenty of short healthy people in the crowd.

“Marcalia, there are children out there.”

“There are children in here, Aesicus, and they represent The Imperior on this world. Those things out there are purposeless.” Aesicus closed his eyes after aiming and pressed the green button at his thumb. The canister whizzed through the night air and burst open deep in the crowd. Instantly, men and women, young and old, were engulfed in persistent green flame. Marcalia laughed as they danced about through the crowd spreading the fire.

As Aesicus lowered the rifle cursing his stubborn mercy, another fire burst out far behind the mob encircling them. It was at the town, and it was certainly not caused by Aesicus’s incendiary canister. No doubt, it was a parting shot from the rescue craft in orbit. The crowd turned back to the burning structures and the Aesi sat together along the front wall. The guards’ ammunition was depleted. They had shot many, but the mob had been more. A white light shone through the windows as the four quartered the remaining shots. Aesicus peaked up over the window sill. At the bottom of the hill, two sets of headlights began a slow progress towards them. Aesicus returned to the others, “They are demolisher units, two of them.” The soldiers nodded, and Marcalia lifted two long shells from her pocket.

“A well-placed shot from one of these should blow out the cockpit on those things,” she said. One of the remaining soldiers stood with her commander and went with her to the window. The soldier smashed out the remaining glass and wood. Marcalia loaded the one shell and aimed at the four headlights of the left demolisher. There was a thin whine from the gun as the bullet raced to its target. Marcalia loaded the next shell, but the others watched with some bit of hope when the four headlights suddenly pointed off in odd directions, three out into the night sky and one limply at the ground.

‘So much for their plans now,’ Aesicus thought. He turned back to check on the two heirs and spotted a deformed man, ugly was the common noun among the Aesi for such a being, standing at the rear wall’s window. He (or she, Aesicus was unsure) raised a comically tiny-looking pistol in his oversized hand. Aesicus attempted to raise his rifle, but it caught on something hanging from the wall. The ugly squeezed off two shots just as Marcalia shot her round. The ugly’s bullets both struck the officer, one glancing off of her shoulder armor, the other embedding in her neck. She fell forward through the window. The soldier who had cleared the window for Aesicus charged the window with the ugly and leapt through it. They grappled, and the soldier stabbed the howling man with her bayonet. She finished him with several shots to the head and wiped blood from her armor. She turned to withdraw into the cottage, and a skinny woman leapt down from the roof. The woman clubbed the soldier on the back of the head with some sort of farming implement and bent to pick up the ugly’s pistol. Aesicus shot the woman several times in the chest and motioned for the other soldier to retrieve his comrade outside. Aesicus tossed the rifle aside and drew his side arm. He carefully peeked out the front window to see the progress of the remaining demolisher.

It was now more than halfway to the cottage and increasing in speed. Within a few moments, it would crash through the building and crush whoever was unfortunate enough to remain within. Aesicus turned to hasten the soldier, but instead caught sight of his final moments. Two more uglies had come forward. One held up the unfortunate Aesus by his throat. The other was prying off the soldier’s helmet and part of his face with a scythe. Aesicus shot wildly at the two brutes. The one with the scythe pulled his wounded skinny arm back and dashed off to the crowd dragging the unconscious female soldier behind him. The other turned and used the barely alive Aesus as a shield. The last of the bullets fired by Aesicus struck the soldier between the plates of armor on his chest and killed him. Aesicus paused, and the ugly retreated with the soldier held in front of him.

The rumble of the demolisher’s engine began to lift the dust off of the floor.

Aesicus ran to the bathroom and brought Dain and Sariah to a window at the far side of the cottage. “When I shoot at the…at them out there, I want you to go out the window,” he instructed, “you first Sariah, then you Dain.” The engine revved outside. “Time to shine.” Aesicus knocked the window out and shot into the crowd beyond the bonfire. Sariah deftly pulled herself through and kneeled at the cottage’s wall staring at the fast-moving demolisher.

***

The beams of the house splintered, and Aesicus shoved Dain through the open window and leapt out himself as the walls tumbled down and the demolisher thundered forward. Aesicus stood looking at the two below him as the dust settled. They were out in the open now. The faint light of torches filtered in from all around him, and the demolisher idled as the driver gained his bearings. Aesicus looked down at his pistol. ‘One shot left,’ Aesicus reminded himself, “Imperior, if You are with me, let your servant see clearly now.” By His will or by sheer luck, there was a slight breeze then, and enough dust cleared from the air for Aesicus to aim clearly at the driver’s head. White and crimson splattered on the rear of the seat, and Aesicus pulled Sariah and Dain up from the rubble they had huddled against. He quickly pulled the fresh corpse from the driver’s hatch and shoved the two youths in, nearly losing his grip on the bloody frame as he did so.

Aesicus glanced over his shoulder. The circle of torches had drawn more tightly in around them. The individual flames of the tar-covered sticks were visible along with the faces of their bearers. Aesicus turned back and partly closed the hatch. He looked directly into Sariah’s eyes and then Dain’s. They were both clearly children now, and a pain stabbed at Aesicus just below the ribs. “Listen well now,” he said, “Do not open this hatch. No matter what happens to me, no matter what you see, do not open this hatch.” The two stared blankly back at him, and Aesicus sighed, “Answer me, please.” Sariah mouthed her words before she spoke but then swallowed deep and answered strong.

“I understand well, Aesus.”

‘Good,’ Aesicus thought, ‘she has some wits, yet.’ Aesicus pressed in on the hatch until he heard it click and witnessed Sariah press the switch for the magnetic lock. Then, he turned his body back to the mob.

***

A spear was his first greeting from his nigh innumerable foe. It was crudely fashioned from some old chunk of wood, a piece of furniture perhaps, and was capped with a point obviously fashioned from a flag capital. The slight magnetic shielding that Aesicus wielded forced the spear to veer off course and into a chunk of undamaged wall where it promptly shattered. The stench of burning livestock and very old wood had finally crept up from the broken town, and the torches came closer. Aesicus holstered his spent firearm and drew his sword from its sheath. Distant flames from the town and flickers from the circle of torches danced in the mirroring surface of the blade as Aesicus rotated his wrist. He could hear heavy breathing now, and looking up, he saw several uglies among the ordinary humans. The crowd paused only a few feet from the rubble of the cottage, and an ugly with an oversized and seemingly useless noose came forward. “Damned alien and enslaver, part from our quarry, and we’ll grant yah a merciful and honorable execution.” The ugly hoisted the noose in the air with his bulky arm and shook it while looking over his mobbing fellows. Many in the crowd raised their spears and pitchforks and knives and axes. Others shouted “Aye, aye!” and “Good idear!” and other phrases of the sort. The ugly mouth of the crowd faced Aesicus again with a crooked toothless smile and a long line of saliva falling to the tramped grass from his distorted lips. Aesicus lowered his sword and answered.

“You can have your quarry,” Sariah stared horrified from the hatch at her supposed protector, “You can have your quarry when my bones are dust, and the whistling wind wipes my crimson stain from these stones.” The ugly’s gummy grin twisted into a half frown, and the crowd surged forward. Aesicus gripped his sword with both hands and cleanly decapitated the first woman who braved him. His back swing caught two fellows, probably twin brothers from the looks of their faces, etching a deep line in their foreheads.

Aesicus retreated up the hill of rubble with a growing trail of limbs, blood, and corpses before him, and all too quickly, he backed into the hatch. Sounds from behind grasped his attention, and Aesicus briefly looked back and gasped. The humans from the other side of the circle had climbed onto the front of the demolisher and were smashing at the windshield with whatever objects they had. The shot Aesicus had fired into the driver weakened the bubble of glass, and thin cracks fanned outward from the hole as the men and women hammered. Aesicus prepared to leap onto the front to dismiss the attackers, but a terrible burning pain stole him away.

An old barn fork made entirely of wood had been carefully rammed between the front and back plates of Aesicus’s armor. The old man holding the fork sneered and drove it deeper to the base of the prongs. Aesicus bellowed, and a cheer rang through the mob. The wounded Aesus punched through the shaft of the fork with his sword-wielding hand, yanked the longer remnant from the old man’s hands with his left, and speeded it back through the old man’s eye socket. Aesicus tightly gripped the fork section of the implement-made-weapon and quickly removed it from his side. A sneaky young man maybe the age of Sariah had crawled up beside Aesicus and was tampering with the hatch release. Aesicus took the bloody wooden fork in his hand and buried it into the youth’s neck.

The edge of the crowd had charged up the rubble, and the leading men and women--the speaker unsurprisingly not among them--were only a bit more than an arm’s length away. Aesicus swung wildly at them, and a thrust spear glanced his left wrist. Aesicus held his left arm to his chest and stabbed the offender with his sword, but it was not a lethal blow. The victim of Aesicus’s stabbing turned wildly back into the crowd, and Aesicus’s hand lost its grip on the bloody hilt. The stunned Aesus blinked his eyes, and the blade was lost in the waves of men and women and those too young to show any particular sign of gender.

Ionaecius

The crowd quickly learned of his disarmament and rushed the hatch. Aesicus was ignored and then thrown to the ground. He raised his arms to cover his face, and the mob stomped over him. A sudden pain shot up behind his ear from the middle of his jaw, and warm, iron-tasting liquid filled his mouth as a man stomped between his arms. Every step hammered his armor plates together and sent throbs of pain from his pierced side. Even with his eyes open, each throb brought darkness deep inward from ever present rims around his eyes.

Through the yelling, Aesicus heard someone speak from atop the driver’s hatch. The tender voice and eloquent words confirmed Aesicus’s gnawing suspicions. Garethoe’s speaker had remained on the world to keep the masses roused. Now, he was rousing the masses gathered around two terrified human youths and on top of one battered curator. “Good and wise people of this rich and too-long withheld land, these,” Aesicus could see in his mind the robed ugly pointing down through the roof at the two within, “are the faces of thine and mine enemy. Their soft eyes may make you hesitate, but know that behind those tearful masks lurks none other than the tyrant and foremost enslaver himself! They are his will and force and evil on this world, your rightful world! Those unholy and unquenchable flames are their doing! Their agents, enslaving kin of the tyrant, set them. And now, your cattle burn. Thine own babes burn! Slaughter them as you would the taker and enslaver!” A shattering of glass followed along with two sets of shrieking voices.

Aesicus glanced up his brow at some strange slightly glittering object sticking out of the rubble. Aesicus tenderly reached for it and grabbed on. It was none other than the decorative axe from within the cottage above the hearth. Aesicus gripped it tightly with both hands once he realized what it was and surged upward through the humans on top of him swinging wide and hard. As he rose, some dozen men and women fell dead. A shrill cackle erupted behind him, and the speaker leapt upon his back driving a borrowed spear into the Aesus’s shoulder. Aesicus managed to roll his attacker off of his back and sent him flying into the crowd with the blunt back of the axe. Then, Aesicus turned to the hatch; a brutish man had Sariah heaped over his shoulder. She ripped at his hair and kicked hard into his chest, but he showed no signs of hesitation. Aesicus rushed forward swinging the newly crimson axe before him. Those who did not make way were made dead. Aesicus drew the axe back as he neared the brute and stabbed the head of the axe hard into his spine. Despite the commotion, a sickly snap resonated in Aesicus’s ears. Sariah fell from his arms and weakly stood as Aesicus approached. “Where is you brother,” Aesicus quickly asked. Before she could answer, a young mouth released a hair-raising howl that rose above all the noise of the crowd.

Aesicus turned, and his eyes began to water at what he saw. The ugly who had spoken first had his oversized arm raised, and the tumor-ridden fist held the oversized noose, and the oversized noose held the boy Dain, and the boy was being eviscerated. His intestines rolled out, and his eyes looked about the heavens as if searching for divine aid. Aesicus roared and grabbed Sariah’s trembling hand. Together they ran forward coming closer and closer to saving the young heir, but Aesicus was stopped suddenly with a wild spear to the neck. The assaulting woman withdrew the weapon to strike again, but the wrathful Aesus chopped off her hand. She in turn withdrew. Aesicus stumbled forward. The undergarment of his armor tightened around his neck. However, the wound was too deep and wide, and the blood seeped through increasingly. Aesicus staggered and shook his head to clear his hazy vision. When he looked up again, the speaker was before him holding his undoubtedly shattered ribs and laughing. The speaker reached forward and slapped the Aesus with his cancerous hand, and Aesicus swung weakly at his tormentor. The speaker erupted into a coughing spree mixed with laughter and drew back for a final hit. Sariah gasped when her protector stumbled backward and let the axe fall from his hand. The speaker also stepped back, holding his sides, and shouted, “Set upon him!” From his left and his right, children poured from the dark corners of Aesicus’s vision. Thrown stones tore skin from Aesicus’s face, and sharp sticks were thrust between armor plates letting blood loose from many small wounds. Aesicus limply punched at the young humans not particularly aiming at any one of them. He was done and dead. One of the little filth used a pipe of some sort to bring his legs out from under him, and he soon laid in a pool of mud and blood. Past the speaker and the children, the boy hung limply from the noose, and several men--or women perhaps--came to Sariah and ripped off her dress and threw her to the ground. In the sky, several lights flashed from three points amongst the cold stars. Through blood and dust, Aesicus spoke, “I am sorry, Imperior. I have failed You in the one and only task set before me. Forgive me.” The last breath of Aesicus escaped into the night. The children and adults unoccupied with defilement patiently waiting at all sides rushed his lifeless body. Some searched for trinkets and mementos of their victory: a lock of hair, his pistol, his sword’s sheath, his armor plates, or an ear. Others sought to abuse his corpse, a symbol of their supposed oppression.

And behind them all, the speaker of Garethoe laughed and winced in pain.

TheReMonstor

I didn't mean to get your hopes up with a response dude, b/c I was only going to tell you that you won't get a critique with a post of 6,000 words. Hell, I can rarely get more than a couple responses on a story of 2,000 words. The only person who might make it around is Oasis Writer b/c he's a critiquing beast. Maybe darthwader b/c he does sci-fi and maybe me if I get some (a lot) of time.

But overall, the problem with this site is that most of the members sign up, post a story and wait for responses, but fail to respond to anyone else's work. I suggest you break the story into segments, then updat after a couple of days and couple of responses. Sorry I used your thread to rant a little, but it felt like a good opportunity.

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Ionaecius

No problem at all.

kalibantre

YEah if you split this up I'd be happy to attempt to help you but 6000, we all have other work to do and other stories aswell as our own.

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~kitty

darthwader

Okay, I've read the first part, and will come back to read the others later.
Let me start by saying that you've got imagery down cold, so bravo for that.


Fantastic imagery. A prime example of what I was talking about.

If you come across someone on this site called Dephere, he will probably get you used to weeding out repetition.


I think there are some punctuation problems, but I'm not really the person to point them out, since I'm something of a novice to the whole writing thing anyway.

About the biggest problem that I saw here is that you introduce many unusual (but imaginative) words in quick succession. Empirialis, Imperiix and Azazeus stand out. I'm not saying that you should get rid of them (I really like the word Imperiix) but they should be introduced into the story gradually.


Anyway, I like the history that is already coming through, and I can see some interesting attitudes coming from the characters. Not a bad start at all... just a bit long.

I'll get to the rest of it when I can.

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Ionaecius

Yes, I must apologize for throwing out so much at once. This was intended to be a companion piece for a larger story that I am working on, but I suppose the vagueness behind the terms makes you want to read more, right? Uhhh, shameless.

With the "curator" bit, I was going for the almost annoying repetition found in military sayings like "sir, yes, sir" and the sort.

I'll definitely take your advice on post length for future works.

Thanks

darthwader

Okay, I've read some more of it.

I can definitely see a good story in here, but your characters seem kinda dead. They enter a scene, give their relevant info, then leave. It's what is called 'floating heads' where the character does not have any interaction with anything while talking.

Have them pace back and forth, take a sip of water, scratch themselves. Just keep track of what they're doing (if they have a glass of water, let the reader know when they put it down. Don't have it disappear.)

A little more personality wouldn't hurt either. A joke, a snide comment, plain old derision.

Once again, your imagery is great. I can really see the environment. Just put more focus on your characters.


Styling


I'll read some more when I have the chance. (Probably 3 or 4 more posts)

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darthwader

Well I'm about 1/3 through the second post, so I'm getting there. You haven't made many errors, so that is a good consolation for the length of the post.

Here are the few problems I saw.
I think you mean subtly, but I would drop that part anyway. Just say that they've been boarded.


On the whole, this is a pretty nice piece, and the lastest part I've read is a bit livlier than the earlier parts.

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