The Path of No Return: The Aeonfall Chronicles, #1

By Mitchell T. Jacobs

Science fiction meets epic fantasy in a tale of ancient machines and forbidden knowledge.

Misfortune has befallen Mase, apprentice of the city of Osam. After a devastating attack by a monstrous ancient evil, his body has been cursed. Outcast and shunned by his own people, Mase's prospects look grim. But one possibility for redemption exists: follow the Path of No Return, travel to where the stars fell form the sky, and return with a piece of a fallen star. Only through that pilgrimage can the evil that taints him be cleansed.

Alongside two companions that share his predicament, Mase chooses to undertake the journey. With Gegard, a young noble warrior, and the huntress Shana, he will either redeem himself or die trying. But reaching their destination will be no simple task. All manner of dangers lay on their path to redemption. From deadly machines, to forbidden knowledge, to fatigue, hunger, and thirst, their bodies, minds, and souls will be placed in grave danger.

And the quest for redemption may be the least of their concerns, for the ancient evil that cursed them may be the herald of something far darker...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mitchell T. Jacobs
• Release date: Aug 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386258971

Book preview

1

The bells rang .

At first, Mase thought they were signaling midday, but the sun hung too low in the sky as the bells continued to ring. He heard shouts, sounds of panic and fear, the thump of feet against the cobblestones. The young and the elderly fled for shelter as others moved toward the walls.

Mase reached for the door to his home, but a guard came running up.

Assemble at your station, soldier.

Aye, Mase said, and ducked into his house to grab his armor.

The outfit was little more than a leather jerkin with a few small metal plates riveted onto a few areas, but it gave him a bit of protection. Mase sneezed as he slipped it on and fastened the buckles. How long had it been since he had worn it? Six months? A year?

When he stepped back outside the streets were in chaos. Noncombatants fled toward the citadel dug into the rock cliffs, while soldiers ran to the wall. He saw all sorts of fighters in their midst, from the heavily armored warrior lords, to the hunters with their bows and cloaks, to militia like himself wearing the barest protection they could find.

Oh no. Not good, Mase muttered to himself as he headed for the wall and the main gate. The bells continued to ring.

This was bad. Everyone of age was required to undergo military training and was expected to defend Osam if called upon, but it never happened. The garrison took care of any problems, or they would receive help from the hunters and nobles if the situation were beyond their capabilities. But to call out the militia, and send the population fleeing toward the citadel…

Mase ran the rest of the distance and ascended the steps to the top of the main gate. The sun faded away as he stepped inside a domed shell into a chamber lit by a pair of glowing lights.

It took you long enough to get here, his crew chief said. Start preparing.

Mase nodded and went to work with the rest of his crew, six in total. He pulled a lever along one of the walls and waited as the shell retracted. The dome opened up along one side, giving them a perfect view of the area in front of the wall.

What are we facing, chief? one of his companions asked.

That doesn't matter. Just get the gun ready to fire.

Mase scrambled to assist, pulling levers and checking gauges. The machine before him was old, so old that no one remembered when it had been built. As far as anyone knew, it and the guns like it had been embedded in the wall since the beginning of time.

It was finicky, temperamental, but the weapon had power like nothing else. The gun was like a dragon, spitting fire and electricity from its mouth so potent that it could kill the largest threats in one shot. Marauding beasts, hostile siege towers, nothing could stand before the sheer power that this device brought forth.

But it also required hours upon hours of maintenance to function correctly, and using the machine made the problem worse. As such, it would only be utilized in the direst of circumstances.

A feeling of dread formed in the pit of his stomach. A myriad of horrible thoughts passed through his mind. Was it raiders? A monster out of the Forbidden Zone to the west? What could require the use of all the wall guns?

Mase felt his heart thumping in his chest, his breathing becoming more labored. He wasn't a soldier, just an apprentice trying to make his way in the world and refine his craft. He wouldn't be up on the wall if the city guard didn't require it. What would happen if the enemy forced their way to the top of the wall, or even breached it? Mase didn't think he'd be able to fight back against the vicious marauders that roamed the wild lands, or the bloodthirsty soldiers from their city's enemies. More than likely he'd be butchered alongside hundreds of others.

Fear consumed him, making his fingers numb. He fumbled with the controls for a moment, then took a deep breath to try and steady his nerves.

Mase, keep working! the crew chief barked. We don't have time to waste.

Aye, sir, he replied, still struggling to get his fear under control. He tried to focus, to absorb himself with the work before him.

Since an early age, Mase had been good at tinkering. His parents were gatherers, explorers that ventured into the world outside the walls, looking for technology and devices from those that came before. As a young child, he spent hours tinkering with scrap and components, the leavings of the findings that his father brought home. Most of the time they resulted in nothing, but occasionally they resulted in flashes of brilliance, a new device that actually worked. None of them were especially valuable, but others identified his worth.

At the age of sixteen, he had been assigned to an apprenticeship under the charge of one of the city's best craftsmen. Mase had always imagined he'd be a gatherer like his parents, or if he wanted to be safer, he'd become an artisan, maybe a smith or a tailor.

But his apprenticeship changed that, bringing him far more prestige than he ever dreamed of. His master's name was Renar Mon, the foremost shaper in all of the city. While other worked in steel, wood, or leather, he built with the materials of those who came before. Under his tutelage, Mase learned secrets beyond his wildest dreams. He learned how to harness electricity, how to form and shape the mysterious materials that had the strength of the hardest metals, yet were as light as a feather. He created weapons and armor for the warriors and examined new discoveries that the gatherers brought in from the wilderness.

This was just another one of his duties, Mase told himself. He was tinkering with ancient technology, nothing more. Mase repeated that over and over in his head, trying to focus and to keep his hands from shaking.

But the prospect of death weighed heavily in his mind, and wouldn't leave. Just a little more than twenty years old, and his life might be snuffed out in an instant. Something horrible was coming, he knew that much. But what could it be? What required the entire garrison, the wall guns, and the militia?

Mase heard a stir from his comrades and a cracking sound from outside the wall. He looked over the parapet, over the flat ground in front of the wall and toward the forest on the other side. Tall trees swayed and broke. Something immense was moving toward them.

Keep working! Keep working! the chief yelled at them, but his words weren't enough to keep them steady.

A black shape burst forth from the tree line, snapping full-grown pines like they were twigs. Mase watched in horror as it emerged, not quite comprehending what he was seeing. It looked like the stuff of nightmares, of bygone legends told in hushed tones around the fires at night. Hearing about it was one thing, but seeing it in front of him…

Move! Move! the chief bawled, his voice cracking. Keep working, or we're all dead!

His shouts roused them. Mase frantically went back to his duties, trying to get the weapon ready to fire. Any thoughts of survival had faded in an instant.

The end had come for them all.

Gegard heard gasps of horror from all around him. His hand clutched the hilt of his sword as the monster trundled out of the trees, slowly and steadily advancing toward the walls.

There was no mistaking it. The beast before them matched the descriptions from the legends, ones that told of a terrible fusion between machine and animal. The monster stood at least thirty feet tall. Four thick legs made out of metal and cables supported its massive bulk. A cluster of red lights almost like eyes sat in the middle of where its face should be. And around that face, a score of long cables whipped back and forth, almost like tentacles.

But the worst part was the black smoke that trailed in its wake, spewed forth by a pair of tubes on the creature's back. Any foliage touched by the smoke withered and died, leaving a pathway of barren soil and husks in its wake. Gegard had never seen something like this in person before, but from the stories and legends, he knew its name at once: Destroyer.

How do we beat something like that? Darvin whispered to him.

Gegard didn't respond. What could he say? Even with hundreds, maybe thousands of troops lining the battlements, could they do anything against a beast like that? Even the greatest heroes of legend, those who walked into danger without any sign flinching, couldn't stand against a Destroyer. Its presence was overwhelming, like death itself had appeared before them.

He saw small shapes moving in front of the Destroyer, fleeing its relentless rampage out of the forest and through the fields. Sentries, he imagined, or hunters that had spotted the oncoming beast. A few shot arrows, though they clanked harmlessly off the metal creature's prodigious bulk. They had given the city enough time to prepare, but it might be a futile gesture, just like their arrows.

Soldiers! Captain Osin said as he marched up and down their ranks, you are sworn to defend this city. We are sworn to defend this sacred ground and the people within, no matter the cost. And we will. We are warriors, the finest blood that this city has to offer. We will hold and defend!

The captain received a few cheers in response, but more remained silent. Gegard looked at the monster heading toward the walls and swallowed a lump in his throat. He would stand and fight, as was his duty. He had been born to be a warrior, and he would not shirk his duty. But he wasn't foolish enough to believe a few honeyed words from his captain.

They were all going to die.

Move! Move it! Are you crazy?

Shana ignored her cadre leader and drew back her bow, trying to line up a shot on the advancing monster. So far nothing seemed to bother the Destroyer, but a shot to the eye might do something to slow it down. She focused on her target, held her draw for a moment, then let the arrow fly.

She moved to nock another arrow, but her cadre leader grabbed her by the wrist and pulled.

Come on! he yelled. You're not doing anything against it. Let the wall guns deal with it!

Shana opened her mouth to protest, but he yanked her forward and shoved her toward the gate.

Move!

We're loading.

Mase watched as one of the crew loaded the weapon with a metal ball about the size of a melon.

Loaded.

Charging, Mase said. He flipped a lever and watched the gauge rise.

The walls guns were so old that no one knew exactly how they functioned, but Mase had labored tirelessly to understand their inner workings. His curiosity had earned him quite a few odd looks and some pushback, but his apprenticeship worked in his favor.

The gun channeled lighting, using some archaic method to conduct the electricity and propel the metal ball forward. Mase didn't completely understand how it worked, but he did know that it drew power from a source buried deep in the walls, conveying it through a thick bundle of cables. Though he had never fired the cannon in anger, his master had told him that it could blast through a dozen trees without issue.

Mase looked at the gauge. We're charged.

Hold, the chief ordered.

Mase tried to swallow again, but his mouth felt too dry. He watched the horror advance toward the wall, heedless of any obstacle in its path. The hunters and sentries fled before its relentless swathe of destruction. Crop fields, fences, buildings, anything in the Destroyer's path was mercilessly smashed aside, or withered and died as the smoke enveloped it.

He wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger and send the metal ball flying into the creature's eyes. Mase's hand began to stray toward the trigger…

Hold, the chief repeated. We need to make our shots count.

Mase felt his heart pound faster. He wanted to shout at the section chief. Why were they holding fire? One shot wouldn't be enough to kill the monstrosity in front of them, he knew that much. They needed to fire, to shoot as many times as they could before the Destroyer reached the wall.

But he bit his tongue and followed orders, even as the monster closed in on them. The closer it drew, the more horrifying it became. Mase saw claws on the end of each tentacle, almost like tiny snapping mouths. Each was filled with pointed teeth and could probably crush a man's skull with little trouble.

Hold.

Mase though about defying orders and pulling the trigger. He didn't care about a reprimand, about imprisonment or even the threat of a possible death. What did it matter? They'd all be dead anyhow if they didn't start shooting soon.

Yet he couldn't make himself do it. Mase stood still and followed orders, even as every fiber of his being screamed at him to do something to stop the oncoming beast.

Finally, the order came.

Fire!

Mase couldn't pull the trigger soon enough.

The wall shook beneath Gegard's feet as the wall guns fired a volley. He saw a brief flash out of the corner of his eye, and in an instant, the monster reeled from impacts all across its surface. It stumbled and fell backward, and a cheer went up from the defenders along the wall.

Huh, not so tough, Darvin said.

Gegard started to say something, but his words were cut short. The black mass suddenly pushed itself back to its feet and advanced, to all appearances undamaged. How many shots had hit the Destroyer? Eight, maybe ten? And yet the monster continued to move toward the wall.

Hold steady and prepare to fight, the captain said. We are the pride of this city. We will defend, and we will hold.

This time he barely received any response. Gegard glanced around at the rest of his comrades, warriors young and old clad in their armor and armed with the best weapons the city could provide. There was no mistaking it. Even veterans of many battles showed wide-eyed fear. One soldier leaned over the battlements and threw up. Others stood their ground, but Gegard saw their hands shaking.

He looked down at his own hands. Sure enough, they were trembling too.

Another volley smashed into the Destroyer, but the metallic monstrosity kept advancing. Mase felt the panic around him growing more and more intense by the moment. They were hitting the creature with everything they had, using their most powerful weapons, yet it did nothing.

Load! Load as fast as you can, the chief ordered.

Mase flipped the lever as soon as they closed the breech and waited for the gauge to fill once more.

Firing, he said and pulled the trigger.

But the gun refused to work.

Mase frowned and pulled the trigger again, then flicked the gauge. Still nothing.

What are you waiting for? Fire!

I can't. The mechanism isn't working, Mase protested, his mind racing.

What could be wrong with the gun? Everything in front of him seemed to be functioning properly, but when he pulled the trigger, he heard nothing but a faint click. That probably meant something in the inner workings had stopped functioning, and as a shaper's apprentice, he was the only one who had any idea how to fix it.

I'm going below, he told the chief.

The access hatch at the back of the tower squealed as he opened it. Mase grabbed a lantern, took a deep breath, then climbed down the metal rungs into the depths of the construct. Darkness enveloped him almost immediately.

Mase dropped to his knees and crawled, moving through a stone access shaft barely broad enough to accommodate him. He thanked the stars that he had a thin frame. Any larger and he might end up stuck in the tunnel with no one to help him out. As it was, the tunnel felt claustrophobic.

He gritted his teeth and crawled, trying to keep his mind on the task ahead. Mase tried to remember the inner workings of the tower and the gun, wondering what could have gone wrong at the worst possible time. The weapon on the tower seemed to be working properly. That meant something was wrong with the energy source, or maybe the transference cables that brought the electricity to the gun.

But if that was the case, what could he do about it? Even the best shapers barely knew how the guns worked, let alone how to perform complicated repairs. The best they could do was patch up any defects, and that could take hours, days. At most he might have a few minutes.

Perfect, Mase thought, just perfect. He started the day like any other, thinking about what he would tinker with, and now the city was about to be destroyed. How would he die? Would the machine rip him apart with its cable tentacles? Would he choke and wheeze as the noxious black smoke filled his lungs? Or would he be crushed under tons of stone as the monstrous construct smashed its way through the tower?

This dark, cramped shaft might very well become his tomb.

Up on the wall! Up and help the rest of the defenders! One of the guns is damaged!

Shana charged up the stone stairs and took her place with the rest of her hunter cadre. She nocked an arrow and aimed at the monster again.

Scores, hundreds of arrows zipped through the air and clanged off the Destroyer's metal skin. Nothing seemed to stop the beast, but the defenders kept firing. Shana joined in, trying to determine the creature's weak points. There had to be some way to kill it, no matter how tough. Years spent in the wilds from the time she was a little girl taught her that much. Every creature had its weakness, whether it was flesh and blood or mechanical. They just needed to find it.

But the Destroyer trundled forward, absorbing hits from the wall guns with little trouble. The arrows were less than gnats to it, not even an annoyance.

Still, she drew back her bow and aimed for the monster's eyes. Maybe a hit in the right spot would slow it down, impair its vision, something. Shana held her aim for a moment, focusing on the cluster of red lights in the center of the tentacle mass.

She loosed.

Shana's eyes followed the arrow, and for a moment she thought it would strike home. But one of the Destroyer's tentacles lashed out and smacked the arrow aside, or at least that was what it looked like from her position. Had it done that on purpose, or was it just happenstance?

The wall shook once more as the guns fired, but again the monster absorbed the punishment and kept coming. Shana drew back her bow once more. The Destroyer was little more than a hundred feet from the wall at this point. She'd hold her ground and continue to fight, even-

Look at its back, someone said.

Shana lowered her arrow for a moment and squinted, trying to get a better view. Something seemed to be moving along the creature's spine, partially obscured by the squirming mass of tentacles.

Then she understood as round masses began to fall off the Destroyer's sides. More machines emerged from them, crab-like creatures about three or four feet tall.

Focus on the smaller ones! Don't let them climb the wall! he cadre leader barked as he paced up and down the wall.

Shana drew back her bow and took aim at one of the crabs, then loosed. The mechanical beast stumbled and fell, the red light in its clustered eyes blinking on and off until it faded completely. Her second arrow sliced into the forward claw of another crab, though the monster continued to advance.

She wondered how long their defiance could last. The archers on the wall could kill the crabs, but only by using their best steel-tipped arrows. And the Destroyer seemed to be immune to anything they threw at it.

No, she thought, there had to be some weakness, even a small one. She just had to find it.

The Destroyer was unstoppable.

Gegard watched as volley after volley bounced off its metal and cable hide. To make matters worse, the gun nearest to his position had stopped firing for some reason. As the monstrosity drew closer, the archers added to the assault, but the arrows had even less effect. The monster rumbled forward, its thick legs never wavering for a second.

And when it closed within twenty feet of the wall, a new horror was unleashed. The cable tentacles around its head suddenly extended toward the defenses, so fast that Gegard barely had time to see it happen.

But he felt the effects. Something wet and warm splashed across his armor and clothing. Blood. So much blood.

All around him other warriors screamed and died as the serrated metal jaws tore through them. Gegard ducked down to avoid being hit, but a tentacle burst through the stone battlements like it was paper. Something fell on top of him and drove the air from his lungs.

He struggled to regain his breath, his vision becoming hazy. Gegard searched for his weapon, trying to do something against the monster. He saw a few of his comrades desperately trying to fend off the jaws with their blades, only to be mercilessly ripped apart in an instant. Other were thrown off the wall by wild whip-like movements from the tentacles. Still more fled down into the streets, overwhelmed with terror.

And here he sat, completely numb in the middle of the carnage that surrounded him. It felt surreal, like a nightmare he couldn't wake from. Gegard touched the top of his head. Somewhere along the way, he had lost his helmet. For a brief moment he looked for it, but finding a single object in the mess of blood and bodies would be impossible.

Something pulled him to his feet.

Get up! the captain said. Get up and-

A set of jaws seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and in an instant, the captain was gone, thrown off the wall in one swift motion. Panic gripped Gegard. He stumbled, trying to find a way to escape the horror surrounding him. All his training, all the oaths he had sworn, the lessons he had been taught, the traditions passed down to him, all of it meant nothing at this moment. Warriors were taught to stand and fight, but what good would that do against some unstoppable beast like this?

There. Gegard found the staircase and started to run toward it, but the battlements in front of him exploded in a shower of stone and dust. He threw himself flat and narrowly avoided a pair of cables that came whipping overhead.

He had no choice. Gegard turned around and ran for the gatehouse, toward the thin sliver of hope it offered. Maybe he could find some way to escape the carnage. More than likely, he would be dead in a few minutes.

Oh no, Mase muttered as he surveyed the mechanisms.

The wall gun was as good as dead. Somehow it must have drawn too much energy from the batteries, enough to melt a long section of cables and destroy one of the power blocks. Mase had to cover his nose to keep from choking on the acrid smell filling the air.

He turned around and crawled back through the access shaft, wondering what it meant.

It'll be fine, he muttered. There's a dozen guns on the wall. They'll stop it before it reaches us. We'll be fine.

He nearly dropped the lantern as the wall vibrated like something huge had smacked into it. It didn't feel like a wall gun volley, which meant…

Oh no.

Mase crawled as fast as his limbs would carry him. He had to get out before the wall collapsed. He didn't want to die in here, stuck in a cramped space and slowly suffocating. He had to get out, to find some way to get off the wall. Maybe the citadel could provide them with better protection.

But as he emerged from the hatch, those hopes were dashed. His entire gun crew lay dead or dying. The protective dome had been completely torn away, and the wall gun lay silent.

He threw himself flat as a shadow passed overhead. One of the tentacles smashed into the tower, exposing much of the inner workings. For a moment Mase thought about fleeing, but the way down was blocked by debris. And even if he could get down, where would he run to? The Destroyer would still be behind him

But how could they kill it? No, how could he kill it? Right now he might be the only survivor on the wall, but what could a shaper's apprentice do against a beast of legend? The wall guns had done nothing, arrows had done even less, and the wall itself was only a minor obstacle in the monster's path. What kind of power would he need to kill something like that?

Power…

Mase looked down at the destroyed tower section. The cables and power sources had been exposed. One source was dead, enough to keep the gun from firing, but the others still crackled with electricity. Would the power of lightning be enough to kill the Destroyer?

He tried to remember the lessons he had learned. Many metals conducted electricity, and the Destroyer's cables and claws looked like they were made of that material. If he could just get it to grab one of the exposed cables…

Mase ran to the wall gun and checked the input cables. One still had power. He flipped the lever, then looked around for some way to get the monster's attention. Mase picked up a rock, took a deep breath, and threw.

The tentacles responded almost immediately. Two came whipping over the side of the tower toward his position. Mase ran as fast as he could and dove onto the stone floor so hard that he drove the breath from his lungs.

But he saw one of the claws wrap around the gun. Blue electricity crackled through the cables. Mase thought he heard something like a roar come from beyond the wall.

Black smoke suddenly spewed forth, enveloping Mase in the noxious cloud. He coughed and sputtered, trying to regain his breath, but to no avail. His limbs grew weak, and he passed out.

2

Mase tried to sit up, but the world around him spun. He felt his body tumbling and braced himself for the impact, but arms wrapped around him and stopped his fall .

Lie back down, please. You're still not at full strength, an unfamiliar voice said.

Where am I? Mase said. His throat felt dry and parched.

Lie back down. You need to conserve your strength. Just know that you're safe.

Mase wanted to protest, but his body wouldn't respond. He lay back down, feeling something soft on the back of his head. Someone must have brought him down from the wall and placed him in bed. That meant he was alive, at least, and maybe he had managed to kill the Destroyer.

His chest began to ache, and Mase coughed. His lungs wheezed for a moment as he tried to breathe. For a moment he was afraid he would choke to death, but then the fit subsided.

Get some more rest, the voice said.

If only he could.

He barely remembered the next few days. Mase drifted in and out of consciousness, waking for only short periods to eat and drink. All the while the hacking cough persisted. The pain was bad enough, but the fluid he brought up made it even worse. It was dark, almost pitch black, and the sight of it terrified him. Where had it come from? What caused it?

Mase remembered the black clouds spewing from the back of the Destroyer, the miasma that engulfed him before he fainted. Was that the cause, and was it eating at his body from the inside out? Would he die?

He asked his attendants, but none of them answered. Most of them didn't seem like they wanted to be in the same room with him either. Mase spent his few waking hours wondering about his fate. He didn't recognize the interior of the room he was trapped in. The walls appeared to be carved from sandstone, the floors and ceiling crafted from wood. He had a single window along one side, but couldn't tell what direction it faced.

It definitely wasn't home, but where else could it be? The citadel would have more activity, and that was the only thing he could think of.

Finally, he was strong enough to stand and walk on his own. The cough persisted, along with the black mucus, but he no longer felt helpless. One of the attendants led him out of the room and into a larger chamber.

Mase saw three people at the other end of the room, sitting on woven mats. Two of them looked to be about his age, a male and a female. The man was taller than him, with broad shoulders, a strong chin and black hair and stubble. The woman was shorter, with long, dark brown hair and tanned skin.

The third was balding, with a long gray beard and wore the robes of a priest.

You're awake, finally, the priest said. Come. I was becoming concerned that you would succumb to the miasma. But thankfully the stars have granted you respite.

Mase took a seat on the last mat. Where is this?

You're in the Kamara Monastery. I am Hasso, priest of the heavens, and the senior abbot.

I'm Mase.

Hasso nodded. "The shaper's apprentice, yes. I have heard of you.