Advent Skies: Rage of the Shrouded Warrior

By Allan Harris JR

In a desperate race against time, Seth Rayen and his companions battle a swarm of enemies as they journey across the Phantom Sea to stop the evil forces of the Delevado from invading the kingdoms of Afria.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483549941

Book preview

PRΟLOGUE

On the moon of Galilee, light from the rising sun gently came forth, expunging the shades of night, slowly brightening the ever reshaping horde of clouds that flowed in the celestial sky…

A sound; that was nothing more than lacerated air pitched frenziedly degrading all present serenity, as a lenient and oblong form, composed of refulgent blue light field; jointed by metal framing appeared. It plunged from on high, with no defining point of emergence, but a shine of white light, that rapidly began to dissipate. Rushing past mountains of blur and vapor this disturber of tranquil mood, which was nothing more than a small traveling shuttle sped quickly through the cloud sea. It reeled, curving madly as it entered a hollowing of gray and white decreasing its speed to a near crawl as it glided further on.

As time ran its course, a much larger ship, of nearly the same shape appeared. It hovered, against a raving mist, displaying colors of red and gray as it lingered still, motionless.

The small shuttle reacted instantly rising. Engines bellow, two lengthy fillets, positioned on the underside of the shuttle damped with a low flicker, as it began to shift into a docking position. Using only its momentum to drift closer, it stopped all at once, latching firmly onto the larger vessel’s underside with a sequence of servo-vibrations and deep clicks. The two immediately became one shape with stems of over lapping metal, interlaced securely and veiled by pellucid light field which formed a bridge-way leading upward. For the moments that followed, all was without movement; ever silent. In the section that was the shuttles cockpit, a hooded figure, frail and practically ancient, sat in total silence, working tediously to etherize the crafts drive functions by adjusting a series of keys and levers atop a stretch of control paneling. It brought about a slow muting of every light in the ships interior. Once in partial darkness it paused, halting all movement, allowing a few moments to pass while its mind gathered scattered thoughts and direction. Finally leaving the comfort of the pilots’ chair, the lone occupant clad in a heavy black robe stepped swiftly in direction of a nearby exit hatchway.

There the figure clothed in black remained, still, hunched over, a bit twisted in posture, stoically counting a grouping of illuminating bars just above; as they lit from blue to green, from left to right, one after another. From behind the vacuous shade of the hood, two uncouth eyes joined only by a dowdy beard of tangled grey hair reflected an emitting glow. Staring hypnotically, its mind started to burn with the impatient haunting of the moment to come. Then, at long last, the hatchway open revealing yet another door, which followed in motion soon after in a profound venting of pressure.

As this old man, Marcus Vantes; one of six high ambassadors of the fair kingdom of Afria, crossed from one ship to the next, he was greeted by two guards, whose body armor of dark bronze reflected the soft light of the surrounding interior.

Their faces, by accord were concealed by blast helmets, which left only their mouths and noses exposed. Stepping forth, the lead officer nodded, welcoming his newly arrived guest. Sir, this way please. He spoke in a meager tone. Walking through a chain of corridors the group of three arrived at an entrance to a chamber. Halting, the guards took point, standing on opposite sides of an entryway, while their hooded visitor continued on.

In a noiseless motion, a dividing slab of energy flickered away, exposing a shaded room, hesitating for only a moment. Marcus stepped through the entrance-instantly the door returned behind him. He waited once more allowing his faded vision time enough to adjust to the shaded environment before he moved an inch further. Nearly hollow and utterly devoid of sound, the chamber’s only characteristics were two chairs placed directly in front of a massive bay window, which gave only muted light; hues of gray. As he drew closer in, it was noticed, in anticipation, seated in the chair to the right, a gentle and serene frame sat undisturbed by his presence, face partially hidden by a draping of white silk.

Clasping the back of the empty chair, the old man finally sat, correcting his bent posture, linear and stiff. He folded his arms inward, holding tensely to his mid-section, holding back the strain that was beginning to rattle his hands.

Thank you for meeting me on such abrupt notice, lady Niokie he spoke firmly, filling the chamber with his graveled voice. The still female form nodded slightly in retort, before speaking.

What is the issue, high ambassador? A somewhat long moment passed before a word was uttered.

I have received notice from a very reliable source that the sovereign regions, those that border Afrian territory have formed an alliance. A dead silence hung in the air as the ambassador’s words set forth thoughts of a baleful future, and all the ill possibilities that would follow slowly encased both their minds.

"Those regions have always been unstable.

Perhaps it is merely a shift in governmental condition."

Niokie blurted out a seemingly logical explanation, allowing denial to mask the true building within her heart. Vantes dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand, before patronizingly responding to the royalist That, of course has been considered, he tilted his head to the side.

However, in reality, there is more going on than anyone could ever comprehend. The woman turned to the old man, peering at him from under the draping hood of white.

He could feel her eyes upon him with the want and need to know what information he possessed. Releasing the hold from around his midsection, Vantes retrieved a bit of fabric that had been tucked away inside his vest pocket; it was folded, triad shaped. As he gave the article to Niokie with a seemingly vacant expression on his face, his mind rotated with expectation of ill recoil. Unfolding it slowly, effetely she rose to her feet as she came to understand what it was she held.

Within the cloth, there was a ring, generated from dense stone, polished smooth and nearly translucent. In the center, a crest comprised in black precious metal, of a ravenous beast thrashing in motion at a speck of gem, purple in shade, which represented a star. Her mind quickly began to radiate with memories from her childhood, stories of Afria’s greatest adversary and the doom of their inevitable return.

Where did you find this? She inquired anxiously as she continued to study the small item in the palm of her hand.

An informant of mine has a contact deep in the Tyotod region. He stalled for a second, referring to the object in Niokie’s hand. It was pilfered from the sectors prime minister. Vantes reported. Lady Niokie’s focus was now on the gray mist, which was churning outside the window.

This does not mean that they have returned, No she told him skeptically; dismissing the dread and the evil affiliated with the ring she was holding. Do not over look the seriousness of this matter, it is real. Vantes assured, with a burning tension in his voice. As he stood he began moving towards her. The Delevado are coming lady. And they will bring with them war, destruction, and death, as always. The high ambassador warned.

We must prepare. It is Afria’s only hope for survival. He finished. Niokie pondered for a brief moment, punctually reaching the expected.

The high counsel will deploy military forces to deal with any aggression, as they so often do. You know that ambassador. Sadly, that was the reality of the situation. Marcus began to shake his head; he wore an expression of complete frustration.

That must not happen; Afria must not go to war. The old man paused, sorrowfully taken by a mad vision of carnage, a rift of destruction and death that Afria and its enemy would leave behind. Marcus felt that it was his responsibility to prevent this tragedy from happening.

He was a man who knew the value of life, and above all else, favored peace over chaos. Death would claim far too many, I will not allow it. He proclaimed with grave anger.

Lady Niokie would have refused any further regard to the subject at hand, but in her heart she was aware of the truth in the ambassador’s words, and as she peered forth into his shaded eyes, she could see a glint of madness. Marcus would not stop until he believed that Afria was secure beyond disaster that was his purpose. In that instance a frightening realization suddenly rose in her thoughts…

In the most recent past, Afria; the fair kingdoms, with its massive armies had secured peace in its many sectors, but it all derived from military compulsion, not as an effect of diplomacy. Those charged to govern had become exceedingly over dependent on intimidation, forcing cooperation from anyone who would threaten the balance of lawful order. So it was completely rational to conclude that in the hour of war no measure would be spared in the destruction of Afria’s enemy. And in the eyes of the ruling counsel, the sacrifice of millions of souls would be seen as a just and worthy cause.

Everything was about to change, she knew it, there was no stopping it. There only remained a single question.

What would her role be in this? What would you have me do ambassador? She shrugged, somewhat fearful of the old man’s brewing request. Marcus corrected himself as best as he could, standing beside the lady in white at the bay window.

Aid me in retrieving more evidence; to prove that there is a legitimate threat, a dangerous confrontation mounting just beyond our borders.

The ambassador said hastily as he stared wide eyed at Niokie.

Why have you brought this to me?

Niokie asked, finally. In the senate, I am being watched by-some very powerful individuals.

This statement was an undeniable fact, as one of six high ambassadors he had proven himself incorruptible, which made those depraved servitors of the fair kingdom increasingly ebullient to discharge Marcus from his position of governing.

I would have overseen this operation myself but if I am discovered acting without the consent of the others, it is likely that I will be removed from office, indefinitely. He stopped for a second, frustrated with the corruption that had very recently infected the structure of policy.

So had the glory of Afria; the fair kingdom, beacon of hope and peace had all but faded away. All that remained was a pit of sickness, as ill conceived proclamations throttled effectuation. Grand old Afria was but a wilting tree, poisoned ignorantly by most that titled themselves its protectorate. Marcus and a handful of others had managed to slow the decay; the rot of moral balance, but it was most certainly a lost cause. Further and further Afria sank, and the indefinite end to the era of peace was now brewing in the darkest regions of space.

Marcus recouped his composure then continued his plea to Niokie. You are the only one I am willing to trust. Silent they both waited, Niokie lowered her head in a toilsome cycle of conceit, selecting what she considered to be the correct response. If I do help you, if I find evidence of ill intent on their behalf, what will be done?

The old man seized the base of his chin, his eyes lowered shut as though he was summoning a vision of the near future.

A covert assault to dispatch all those involved in the war plot. He explained slowly, reopening his eyes.

So, either way blood will be shed? Niokie replied, in a obvious tone of revolt. Marcus glanced piercingly at the woman in white, fixated completely on her apparent note of hesitation.

Of course, know that I would gladly order the elimination of those responsible for this threat. He turned to face Niokie, holding out both of his wrinkled hands.

On one side we have the souls of the innocent, billions in number. And on the other, the ambitions of a few depraved minds. He retracted one suddenly into the shadow of his robe; that which exemplified depravity. I favor the innocent, lady.

Instinctively, Niokie wanted nothing to do with such a radical course of action, but she could not fully ignore the ambassadors view on the situation, and wise old Marcus anticipated this much. What is your decision? In contrast of the moment, a warming light poured in through the window.

Niokie turned, peering wearily out at the affluent beauty of the sky line. I will make the necessary arrangements. I will help you. Marcus nodded gratefully, just as a very thin smile surfaced. A noble choice. He added, reassurance overran his aged heart as hope of uncovering the truth ensconced the chamber. He was then burdened by a gnawing curiosity. Will you send Daniel Haven?

He asked unable to resist its calling. No. I have asked so much of him already, I will not burden him with this task. Niokie replied without hesitation, stubbornly rejecting the question presented to her. With a slightly alarmed expression, Marcus’s jaw fell gradually; he was somewhat disdainful of Niokie’s decision. For a long moment, he found himself to be speechless, trying to absorb whatever reasoning the royalist had for responding in such a way.

Swallowing his disappointment he dismissed the uncertainty building within him and began to walk slowly towards the door, but as he did, he thought to remind Niokie of the danger that was inherent. Dear lady, your approach must be without notice, pick your agents wisely, for if you are discovered, it will bring about irreparable consequences. Vantes advised as he left the chamber. Yes high ambassador, I will take great care.

With the end of the encounter, the royalist stood alone, facing the now alluring view of parting clouds, she estimated the abilities of her most capable agents, those well adapted in the art of subterfuge and those who she could send deep into the forbidden regions of Eyoth.

Only a few came to her mind; but at last, she knew that there was one individual that she could trust to lead this mission of infiltration into the sovereign region without being detected. Her thoughts were prudential, as this mission would be the single most important act to gather intelligence against the possible upsurge of unhinged war and carnage.

Yes, I will send Ayden…

Her mind softly whispered.

CHAPTER - I

Bright space, everlasting with the abundant presence of spheral bodies rendered in somber particles of shadow; they linger, utterly motionless. Their presence, at first, would surely be misconstrued as some sort of apparition or possibly a figment of one’s mind. But accurately, they were much more than that, so much more. If one was to have a closer look, it would be realized that the mysterious forms were the very stars of the heavens. Evinced, these particles of ghostly shade were nothing more than an effect, a twisting of energy and matter which shifted the spectrum of reality into a dimension of utter radiance.

Completely devoid of substance, save for the shadows of physical matter. Here, in this oddment reality, distance was nearly inconsequential for the conditions of natural space-time were without full effect, in what is this; the phantom-sea…

The foremost platform of travel, a vehicle could move vastly beyond the speed of light. With this method of tour, hundreds -thousands of living star systems were connected, giving birth to a wondrous age full of unending possibilities. No more could the blockade of endless night and star isolate worlds, much was now mapped and was referred to as Eyoth. As one of the largest galaxies in the visible universe, it was comprised of three colossal nebulas which were to be bound together by the laws of gravity for all time.

And so this populous mass of spiraling particles was a cradle to an immeasurable aggregation of life forms, some in which were beyond what normal imagination could ever conjure, for Eyoth flowed with the spirit of creation. In the lambent void, a hulk of splintered metal -burgeoned in shades of blue-sailed belligerent, engines flaring in contrast against its environment, this clunking mass, known as the Sak’jo - zipped through white space. It then suddenly veered downward approaching its destination; an orb of palpitating obscurity, the abiotic world of Telic; innermost planetoid of the Delevado. Home to an evil race, cruel and unforgiving, the Delevado’s depraved lust for dominance throughout the ages nearly extinguished not only themselves, but a horde of many others pledged to abet their dark intents. Endeavors of brutality gave the Delevado notoriety beyond all other monsters of Eyoth, and inspired measureless crusades against their heresy. They were eventually beaten and pushed to the edge of the galaxy were they sat in shadow, praying for opportunism to find its way back; praying for a time where they might rise against those who had upset their rule.

And it was undeniable, at this moment, all their atrocious desires were about to be attained. For their evil hearts had once again conspired to purge all good from Eyoth. But the divergent light of this ill and dark intent moved without scarcity.

Telic, as this dead sphere of dark light hung in placidity against the phantasmal plane, it inundated in size with every moment that passed, as the sky ship drew nearer. Black bones of structure.

Aboard the ship; through a translucent haze of energy regulated by metallic archways, multiple grid levels, as while as the most common of all intramural workings were in plain sight. Its crew members could also be seen through the skin of light field, assembled in the command chamber. In the ship all was still; save for the aleatory sounds of the flight systems. There were four figures that occupied pivotal points of this chamber. Three of them, dressed in black uniforms with inlays of blue leather, a style ordinary to that of venturesome spirits, sat quietly toiling over control readouts while a fourth stood, Raida Lynn, the ghost mistress and captain of the Sak’jo remained detached from all activity. A woman of average height, with long brown hair which flowed down her back, her skin smooth, with a soft brown complexion. She was fitted in a black and red body suit with dollops of metal plating along the torso and legs, a belt strapped to her waist held only one item, a hilt of silver and black; edged metal with three points of red light. She waited motionless in the middle of the bridge; her eyes were shut, tightly.

Raida was trying so desperately to retain some element of peace. However, her thoughts had ran the course of fear and dismay, the stress of her recent mission was greater than any she had faced before and for the first time in her renowned career as captain, she feared for her crew; and herself.

But despite her very current emotional state she had to remain focused, not just for her survival but her crew’s. They were depending on her to lead them in and out of hell safely. And she knew if she were to falter, for just a moment, it could very well result in the loss of her ship and all aboard.

Trickling across, black light washed gently over the canopy of the Sak’jo. As it descended from the phantom-sea, the aberrant prospect of space, like the spurting of a mass of dark bursts materialized. It was infrequent for a ship to exit in outer space, for as it was, the skies were much more a suitable emergence point. But seeing that the Sak’jo was venturing into forbidden territory, its approach was anything but routine.

Raida would have normally greeted the sight of a star field with glad spirits, but at this hour it seemed that nothing could subvert her feelings of anxiousness. That was until a sound of urgency, emitting from the navigational computer clattered repetitiously.

It reverberated throughout the command deck, forbidding the sky ship’s further advance, but was completely ignored; the Sak’jo’s heading was set, and there was no changing it. In a flash her mind opened in full, concentrating on the forward window, the sentiments of dismay slowly began to turn to precision. She was now entering a different frame of thought.

With the dead planet in view, she glanced coldly, hesitating for a single moment. Retreating was an impulse she could barely resist, but at last she wiped away notions of fear and cowardice from her mind, her oldest and dearest friend needed her: Ayden.

She spoke gently, using nothing more than her inner voice. There had been numerous instances when Ayden had saved her, and now it was time to repay him. Raida rushed for the command bridge exit. Before leaving she stopped, peering over her left shoulder, she glanced at a thin human male whose focus was affixed to the ship’s flight controls; all made of light fields, projected by a heavy networking of metal grids, linear in construct, that lied slightly beneath a blurred haze of thin yellow. Her gaze; as potent as a ghostly bellow snagged his attention, his eyes were cold and betrayed the presence of doleful thought. Gower, he had served aboard the Sak’jo ever since Lynn was captain. You have my orders. Her voice was heavy, filled with the incredulousness of the approaching blitzkrieg. Gower took note of this, he didn’t speak on it, he simply nodded and returned to the ships controls. The Sak’jo was much closer now, an enormous atmospheric station, tenebrous barbs of metal had begun to stem into view. As the ship approached, bright flashes, as though the stars themselves were on a collision path with the Sak’jo appeared with an irate anger. Each one of them, emanated from the blockading station: surging forth beams of wretched energy intended to demolish any transgressor. The mercenary ship speedily assumed evasive action, dodging the attacks with precision. Captain Raida continued on her way to the cargo hull, in spite of the commotion.

Over head, chaotic snips of light streaked past the energy projected bulwarks, dashing within inches of the projected fields of the ship. Raida ignored the scene of cascading bursts as much as her willful mind allowed. As she moved through the passage, she soon arrived in the cargo hull, shaded in tones of dark blue and shadow.

The room was entirely bereft of all sound, excluding the minor hum of igniting weaponry. Among this shade, there were six stocking forms-mercenaries who stood noiselessly. Heavily armed with proton weapons and protective gear, they hung about the chamber as ghosts, faceless, hidden entirely by white fabric embellished with black emblematic markings.

A thick black mane flamed wildly at the back of their necks, and ran down to their shoulders giving a beastly nature, which flowed from them. Everyone present, including Raida, gathered around the exiting bay, a circular postern located on the floor of the room. A chilling reality of the moment tested their fortitude, as this raiding transgression of the planet Telic was undoubtedly a suicidal mission with very little hope of survival. However, as grim as the situation was, they could not abandon their charge. An almost condemned descent, the ship flew past the atmospheric station, disappearing into a murky sea of spindrift clouds. Flaring bursts continued to pour from the vane that was the planets defense belt, flooding the sky with dazzling light.

The Sak’jo emerged moments later over the central city. Bordered by a range of black mountains, the settlements of this world were unlike anything Raida and her team had ever seen. Extended throughout much of the planets disordered surface, the cities were all woven together, webbed intricately.

Downward from the heavens above, the mercenary ship veered over a blackened conformation of tombs and jagged arching structures. At the circular exiting bay Raida stood motionless, then very quickly shadings of red ambiance poured downward and all throughout the chamber; the glow, which not only lit their path, distorted gravity allowing them to land without any negative effect, negating the harsh sting of the thirty foot drop.

Off-loading from the Sak’jo’s main exiting port, Raida and the six shadows passed through the red light that cut the blackness of the lower ambits; they landed in what was a dilapidated mausoleum, soundlessly with feet planted firm in grungy soil as they slowly and very carefully surveyed their surroundings. In this place were the forgotten graves of the royal families of Nalustant, the ancient rulers of the Delevado. A labyrinth of the dead, a series of forgotten hollows echoed with the turbulent memories of Telic’s most powerful war lords.

All throughout this area tenuous stone obelisks, stretched meters in height, marked the forward path. In a tight formation they moved on, hunched down low. The backdrop, the red glow streaming from the exit hatch narrowed away as the sky ship lifted into the night, vanishing completely. Quiet was the noise of this obscure dwelling of the dead, there was nothing, just a lifeless necropolis. Raida stared cautiously around, holding her right hand stiffly at her side. She then quickly retrieved that wadding of silver and black from her belt, it was inert of course, until the ghost mistress extended her right arm and pressed a small toggle with her thumb. In a series of site clangors and servo-oscillations, the hilt she held tightly burgeoned into a proton blaster that encased her hand and much of her lower arm, not only in braces of metal but in a veil of thin gray light field, which completed the weapon.

The feral squad of mercenaries activated their weapons in the same manner, oscillating bits of metal completed with fields of luminous. It was at that same instance, a blazed explosion jolted the air creating a likely point for inspection, Raida and the others snapped their attention forthwith. Let’s move. She whispered, leading the way. They scurried onward as the sound had aroused their apprehension; further bursts pelted the air driving them faster.

Moving, Lynn and her team arrived at the apparent source of the ruckus. Standing out of site, submersed in shade behind a wall of dark marble, they waited ever so quietly. Peeking her head from around the covering Raida observed four skeletal figures that were pitched in defense beside hefty columns. They were all identical to one another, black bones with a piercing field of energy that shimmered in red and gray, far over six feet in height with prolonged arms that split into three razor digits. These creatures were not of living flesh, but of an artificial matter. Simply known as metoids, they were no more than programmed constructs burdened by a task that never in any way could be generated by their own networking of circuits and neural relays-but rather a primary motivator; a single voice echoing within them, edging them closer to their directive which at the current moment was unbreakable.

Raida narrowed her eyes as she immediately perceived what the metoids were up to. Ayden she muttered as she began searching the shadowed recesses for any signs of life other than armed machines. She knew he was close by, why else would these metoids be here? Looking back,