At The Precipice

By Richard Olson

Soor leads a new, highly secret society on a journey to save every species on planet Manza. Following the immense devastation from the Twelve Species War, the planet has seemingly turned barren. To make matters worse, the world's leaders are convinced the resulting famine will pass as they ignore it in favor of nation and wealth building.

Being in the later years of his life after the war, bloodshed and strife seemed to be behind him. It is not to be, however, as the threat to Manza is too great to ignore and he, once again, is compelled to act!

Armed with knowledge, faith in his brethren, what little magic is left, a few secrets and a new recruit, he and his group begin the most important mission of their lives. If the famine cannot be reversed and Manza saved from planetary death, the remaining species will succumb to it and thousands of years of evolution will be lost to time.

Allow Soor to bring you into the inner sanctum of a secret society and then join him on a heart-pounding journey through a new world filled with danger, excitement, betrayal, secrets, harrowing creatures, sorrow and the threat of success!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098340889

Book preview

1

THE BOY

The stench of living matter clung to the air just above the lake as absent ripples on the water did not go unnoticed. With squinted eyes, the boy scanned the water to find any signs of life, but the sun set behind the mountains less than one-hour prior. The chill worsened and neither pole had snagged anything more. Where are the fish, Soor? the boy asked as he checked his line. His float remained motionless on the surface. Seeing any bottom-feeders at this point was a futile effort, but any chance to get the legendary Fiergon Mage to speak would be worth it. Soor? Hello? Do you even hear me? Help me find the fish! The wild Bync perched in the few trees above stopped singing and, like the boy, focused on finding food. The boy peered from his own pole to see Soor not minding his. What are you doing? You need to watch your line. We only have a few so far. Dinner will not catch itself. The boy, half-disgusted with Soor's effort, looked closer and asked, Are you snoring? Soor, sitting on the ground next to the dilapidated, weathered dock, feet perched on a shredded tree stump, said nothing and moved not at all. Soor sensed the angst emanating from his new friend and heard the disapproval in his voice. Typical, Soor thought. Thoughts of his childhood crept into his mind: The lashing he received for his disobedience at 8-years-old, the broken leg he suffered at 11-years-old, the Pledge and the long journey every child must take in the dead of winter either through Vessel's Breath or over Manza's Backbone. The boy will learn, he thought to himself as he feigned a long, slow, gentle snore. I chose the same attitude at his age.

The boy, gaining frustration as the seconds passed, witnessed the snoring from Soor's stagnant body. Wow, some hero. There is no way this fool did as they say. There is no way I can learn from this old man. He decided he would teach Soor a lesson. I'll teach him he cannot ignore me and get away with it. Fiergon Mage or not. Legend or not. The boy quietly stood and inched his way off the dock and to the lake's edge where he picked up two rocks from the slimy mud. The Bync now altered focus to the boy. They no longer nestled in a warm pose, but now on their feet at the end of the branches, ready to strike. With his back to Soor to conceal the rocks and his intentions, he thought, Fiergon are so skilled, no one can get the drop on them or surprise them. Watch this, 'Mr. I'm Soor, the greatest Fiergon Mage ever'!

The boy steadied his body, readied his hands, controlled his breathing, and focused his mind on the task at hand as taught. He will never know what hit him, he thought. If I can surprise Soor with these, the rest of them will have to accept me and let me inside. The boy’s eyes narrowed and his breath slowed. The only thought in his head pertained to striking fast and without mercy. This is how real warriors go about it. It is time to prove myself. The boy pivoted his feet, spun, rocks in his hands, ready to release! What the.... The boy's hand stilled in its motion when he realized his target disappeared! At the same time, the birds all scattered as if lightning struck the trees. With little sound, Soor arose from the water behind the boy, snatched a rock from his throwing hand and whispered, Patience. The boy, dropping the remaining rock, screamed in terror and ran from the river with a speed making any warrior proud and any parent chuckle. Soor could not help but let out a subdued chortle himself.

His laughing comes at an uncommon time, but is needed. Years passed since Soor considered himself able to laugh on any measure of a regular basis. He did not know if he could still do it after what he experienced. Thinking of this, a solitary tear began to build in the corner of his eye. What is wrong with you? yelled the boy as he brought his run to a halt! That is not an acceptable action! I thought a Beast was about to eat me whole! The boy, noticing something different about the Mage's stoic demeanor, said, It's OK, Soor, I was not scared. I know the Beasts do not live in lakes. Soor experienced trouble letting the feeling go. After everything that transpired in his past, he remained on the highest of alerts and never relaxed much. He turned away from the boy and towards the depths of the murky water. Soor...? The boy, seeing Soor go from a relaxed, calm, snoring fisherman to a hyper-vigilant and aware soldier with a tear in his eye did not know what to do. He never saw any type of drastic emotional transition in any species, let alone a Fiergon. His own Ardu tribesmen do not show such transformations. Soor...? The boy began to worry.

Walking toward the lake's edge again, the boy did not know what to do, what to say or how to approach the Mage. Soor put his hands behind his back, clasped. He now gazed to the sky with closed eyes as if searching for answers. His clothes, still dripping lake water, clung to his near-human physique. His arms and legs were lean yet strong for someone so small. Soor's torso, slim and muscular, was void of any fat. Full-grown, his size matched the prepubescent, aspiring Ardu warrior in the lake with him. His eyes saw with the fullest clarity even at night or in stormy conditions.

Soor is the eldest and most influential Mage recognized to exist on Manza and he begins each council meeting. Soor is deliberate in his movements and with his words. He says little, but when he speaks, everyone listens. His presence creates silence when he enters a room. His accomplishments command immediate respect, and he believes morals, values and treating everyone with respect are the best traits one admits to their arsenal. These traits are available to everyone, he likes to say. Soor was unknown outside the Fiergon Stronghold prior to the war, but since, everyone notices his name. From his unexplained ability to raise a Fiergon army of 400 strong out of broken, scattered, and clashing Fiergon settlements to his defeating Seeley of the Eastern Forest after taming the Mirage sand lizards, his accomplishments and war-time victories are everlasting lore. As the boy reminded himself on the lake, Soor is a living legend.

The boy approached Soor from an oblique angle, out of habit. Never approach anyone straight on; always from an angle, he remembered from his first Ardu training sessions. The boy said, Soor, are you OK? Having reached the Mage in a foot of dank water, Soor stared at him. He drew a long breath, exhaled and replied, I am fine. Just a memory. Let us go. Pushing the brutal images flashing in his memory aside and focusing on the reason the boy fished in the lake, Soor began walking. He thought to himself that this clumsy, young, inexperienced boy, in the preceding two minutes, showed a tremendous range of emotion and intellect. He had been passive, alert, inquisitive, speculative, calculating, excited, fearful, calm, and empathetic. An impressive range, indeed. As they looked upon each other's faces, they realized they both shared the same thought about each other. Hmm, interesting, they thought to themselves.

They exited the water together, with the boy following Soor. They climbed the dock and Soor began to head towards the cabin's only door. But, our poles, said the boy pulling on Soor's robe. Patience. Grab the fish you caught, Soor stated without missing a step or looking at the two stationary poles. But..., the boy stammered. Soor replied, Come boy, it is time. The boy, astonished and confused blurted, Wait, I get to go inside? I've been waiting weeks for this moment! He ran, grabbed the bucket of fish and hurried back to Soor's side. The boy did not exaggerate. He slept outside the cabin for weeks. He endured harsh rains, massive bugs, wild animals prowling the area, frigid temperatures and a lack of sleep and food. Remembering this, he asked under guarded breath, Are you sure I don't have to sleep outside this evening? Soor stopped at the door with his hand on the handle. He turned his head toward the boy, gave a stare that could pierce an aged oak tree and said, Remove your weapons. You are not allowed to keep them with you if you choose to go inside. Soor pulled another long breath, Also, if there is anything I can promise, I promise this: You... will not sleep tonight.

2

ON THE DOORSTEP

The boy was unable to catch his breath. The revelation of going inside the building represented more than a fleeting thought over the precursory weeks and Soor's eerie statement gave him reason for pause. He wasn't getting inside easily as every member of society that had ever been inside displayed a war fighter mentality of the highest caliber or had been deemed a highly-respected and significant member of planetary society. Despite the fact he knows, beyond any shadow of doubt, these things to be true, he still had thoughts about what he would find inside. Outside of the many things he did not know about the interior, he deduced a few things from his long wait just outside it. It is a fact at least one monstrous fire roared at all times because he smells the wood-soaked smoke through the veil of night and dankness of the lake. Through the walls he hears the crackling of fresh logs being burned and sap bursting. Judging from the number of sacks and bundles carried into the chalet every week, there are plenty of provisions awaiting him inside.

Hearing his stomach snarl from not eating much in previous two days, he wondered what kinds of food and drinks would there be inside. He thought to himself and asked, Do they have any Cremblat from Filear or Diot wine from Mirror Lake? And what of the Fiergon and Human delicacies of Drigan Berries and Escargot? Would they have those? The best warriors on the planet have to have those at their disposal! What if a dignitary visited? They wouldn't dare feed them what I've been eating, he thought. The past array of wonderful and exotic smells emitting from the supplies made his head swirl with ideas of what will be in his belly later in the night. His stomach gave another booming growl as if fighting off a monster stealing the little contents in his belly. The unidentifiable scents made his taste buds dance and his mouth water. He had uncountable dreams about the food and drink laying just beyond his grasp every day and night while he had to cook his catch of the day. His fare these long weeks consisted of fish, rodents and birds. He did not enjoy these foods, but his survival training stressed finding any means to fend off death and achieve victory.

What would await inside this door? Would he be able to drink something other than the rain water he had to collect or the snow and ice he melted? Would he be able to sit by the fire and warm his near-frozen feet? The past few weeks, the midday sun provided the only warmth he received, assuming rain or snow did not fall. His clothing was covered in dirt, soot and snow. His clothing had been soaked through to his bones for more days than he dared count. The foray into the lake did not help. Would he be able to dry his clothing out considering females occupied the cabin as well? Is there any privacy inside? A thousand more questions raced through his mind as Soor began to unlatch the door. This is it, the boy thought.

The boy's rapid thoughts continued, I'm about to meet the best. I'm about to eat, drink and sleep amongst them! The anticipation was palpable. Soor knew the boy earned his way in, but hesitated in pushing the door open. The immediate future for the boy would be unpleasant. The boy would not be comfortable for the next few days, and he would face fear he had never known existed. Soor would need to protect the boy from himself and others. Boy, Soor began, When this door opens, your life changes. Are you sure you want to know what knowledge is over this threshold? Soor did not make eye contact with the boy. He did not want his concerned appearance to cloud any judgment the boy would be forced to make. I should not tell you... you must be certain of your inner self. You must not keep your inner self from the others. It is not an option. They will catch you and you will be barred forever. The self you showed me a few moments before in the water will undo you unless you learn. Are you sure? Soor continued looking down, but pointed to the threshold underneath the massive wooden door. He said, The threshold represents the point of no return for you and all that will come to you in the future. You will be changed when you walk over it. The only thing you must decide at this point in your life is to take two steps forward or not.

From the outside, the boy showed confidence, sure of himself to all who gazed upon him. He had an unnatural allure around him that made people notice him. The boy knew this about himself, and he acted on it as long as he could remember. He viewed it as a source of power and throughout his life he got most things he wanted because of it. It led him to make friends with prominent Ardu his age and some much older than he. As much as he had relied on this innate gift, he had come to the harsh reality that this charm did not work here. He managed to use this gift to earn a trip to his current location. Since he had arrived, he had not been able to speak with anyone. He hated it, but waited to prove himself worthy of their time and he hated it more than sleeping in the mud, fighting off frostbite or trying to stay patient or positive. He missed talking to others the most. The camaraderie coming with being around people with whom he enjoyed his time was priceless to him. He longed to speak about becoming a fighter and learning more to hone his abilities to fight. The boy missed being popular and had a sneaky suspicion Soor knew these facts.

His ultimate goal had always been to be accepted among the hardened soldiers who fought in the Twelve Species War. He had heard the tales just as everyone else had. No group or tribe went untouched by the long, brutal war. Inside the building, stood the remnants of what was left of the leaders of massive armies from the war. The warriors now within reach were the best and brightest the planet of Manza has ever produced. These beings seemed mythical in the stories he had heard throughout his early years. There is no way they could be as real as in my dreams, the boy thought. ''No matter. I will learn and improve or I will die trying! Even with his conflicting thoughts, the boy refused to stop. Being a mere two steps from his chosen awaited future was not about to escape him. He had waited for this moment for too long. You are the wisest in the whole of Manza, Soor. I hear your warnings and I understand the importance of your few words. The boy closed his eyes, swallowed hard and nodded. I am ready. He had been in near-complete isolation for what felt like a year. Little companionship and zero conversation had been the norm. He built walls around his mind as a way to deal with the loneliness and darkness of the harsh winter. These layers are necessary, the boy convinced himself. I cannot go into a situation unarmed and on the offensive! I must keep my guard up. It is all I have. He was not wrong as those additional layers had kept him alive throughout the winter. Also, these layers coupled with his innate charm allowed him to engage Soor enough to fish beside him. I am on the right track," he thought.

3

THE CABIN

So be it, Soor said as he let go of the latch. Soor pushed the door open with both hands. The boy considered the door as it began to swing. He thought, I know I'm small, but that door is huge! It must weigh more than five Ardu knights! He could not be more correct in his thinking; the four-inch-thick wooden behemoth stood ten feet tall and six feet wide. The wood cracked and the hinges creaked as it swung. Opening the door was noisy enough to put anyone asleep on alert. The heat of the room got sucked out into the frigid landscape as the door moved from the threshold. The boy had to shield his eyes from the warm air slamming into his face and unknown aromas that emanated toward him. To smell it pleased his stomach so much it let out yet another loud growl. Through his shielded eyes, he could see plenty of light being given off. His senses basked in the moment.

Soon, he would walk into a new life and Soor had told him to be sure of his inner self and not keep it hidden. The boy thought, How can I keep my inner self exposed if I go in while defensive? These layers need to be gone before I take those steps. I need to show whoever is in there who I am. As the door opened a bit more, he felt those unwanted layers peel off. The boy began to walk and Soor put a hand to his chest. Last chance, boy, Soor said. The boy, more confident than at the moment before he tried to throw the rocks, said, I am ready. Soor removed his hand and allowed the boy to walk. With his first step, he found a relaxation he had not known in a long time as he felt the heat from the fire from all the way across the forty-foot by forty-foot room. The light from the fire, torches and candles strained his eyes after being outside in the dark for so long. A smile crept across his face as he completed the first step.

As the boy studied the room through the widening opening, the bar was the first thing in view. He barely saw over it. It stretched the entire length of the wall excluding where the door made its home. It was made of multiple types of wood, except for the beer taps peering above the counter and the built-in candle holders on the top. The beer taps were well-used, worn and stripped of their once shiny coating embossing all taps. This cabin is only used during the winter, the boy thought. How are the taps so worn if they have only been used for a few years and only four months at a time? The taps still worked because he had seen kegs being brought inside along with the other provisions. Two individuals sat on the rickety-looking bar stools. The stools did not look safe enough to sit a single, eight-pound Bync let alone a combatant from any of the three remaining species. Their three legs twisted around each other and attached to the middle of the seat. The stools' feet appeared far too close together at the floor to stand on their own.

The bartender, a towering and brawny creature, stood behind the center of the counter area cleaning glasses, but fell motionless at the sight of a newcomer. He did not look like any of the species the boy had read or heard about. He was larger than the Ardu, which he thought to be the grandest species Manza had to offer. The size of this bartender is breathtaking, the boy thought. I wonder how many Ardu warriors it would take to take him down? The scars littering his face and left arm were as ample as were the muscles covering his body. The bartender's bearing, friendly and inviting when the door first cracked, now turned cold. He did not anticipate Soor bringing anyone into the building. The boy felt his stare burning a hole through him. Then as fast as the bartender's expression changed, he turned his back to the boy before the boy took a second step.

On the wall above the bar hung three battle flags. The boy recognized only one -- the Ardu flag closest to the door. The flags belonging to the Fiergon and Chietzen flanked the Ardu flag. Stacked to the ceiling in the back corner at the end of the bar lived a sizable number of beer kegs. I guess that explains the condition of the taps, the boy thought. Given the enormity of the bartender's hands and the quantity of beer kegs stacked up, those taps did not stand a chance!

The cabin's single room was also made of wood, save for the massive, blue-stone fireplace. Fireplaces are common in every home throughout Manza as the planet is cold most of the time. On Ardu lands, they are made of whatever stone is found. If it is strong, the Ardu use it. Fireplaces aboard the Chietzen fortress are all made of shimmering white stones or, at worst, lighter shades of gray. Fiergon settlements are buried in the mountains to the west, therefore, they always have huge, roaring fires going at all times. They use little stones in their fires -- only enough to keep the fire contained. This made the source of the magnificent blue stones more than a mystery to the young boy. Color of this brilliance is not seen in the world anymore... not since before the war. The blue stones shone bright, more so than any other should. Puzzled, the boy wondered, Are they shining due to the fire? Is there something inside the stone making them shimmer? From where did those stones come?

As the door creaked a little more and swung another foot the boy made out what surrounded the fireplace. Two crossed Ardu swords and what the Ardu call a stay hung to the right of the fireplace. The pristine swords, never used, could still slice a tomato in two perfect halves. Every sword ever forged on Ardu lands must be battle worthy and ready to be wielded in the defense of the Ardu colonies at any time. It is the law and there are no exceptions! The colors on the swords' handles, as brilliant and alive as the day they were forged, were vivid. They share the same colors as the Ardu flag, as do all Ardu arms. They have only two colors: white and red. To the Ardu, the white background of their flag and as the base coat of their weaponry symbolizes what Manza stands for: purity, strength and purpose. The red symbolizes the blood that must be shed on the way to become a true warrior and the blood spilled during the war. The stay is a hard piece of cloth that holds a warrior's hair in place during a fight. Ardu hair is thick, heavy and doesn't move or flow well during quick movement. If an Ardu serviceman tried to fight without the stay, the fight would be more difficult than ever because of limited vision.

To the left of the fireplace hung two clusters of Fiergon weaponry. The first cluster, furthest from the fireplace, contained a full ensemble of hunting knives and throwing knives. The sizes and styles varied with some designed to be used with the left hand and others the right. None of them appeared distinctive with their uncomplicated and boring designs. Some had hilts and some did not. They all lacked any distinguishing features such as hue, fabric, twine wrappings or symbols. The most trained warriors would have difficulty recognizing that the most lethal assassins and stealth fighters on Manza produced the blades. The edge of the cutlass provided the only way the boy could tell they belonged to the Fiergon race. In his Ardu training scenarios, he learned to be cognizant of blades constructed by the Fiergon. His instruction pointed out, although their blades were small and pathetic by Ardu standards, the Fiergon generated and perfected their own technique of honing a blade's edge. Their theory is based on the ancient human concept of using lubricated stones to sharpen an edge once it becomes tempered. The Fiergon far surpassed the abilities even the human Samurai operated under and this included their blades' effectiveness. Legend had it that a sand fly should not land on their blades' edge, lest it would severe the body part touching it.

Closer to the fireplace, the signature weapon of the Fiergon was displayed: the long bow. Not every Fiergon warrior would be entitled to wield this piece and precious few bows are thought to be in existence now. These bows are only made from trees in the Engel Forest far to the northwest. Just to get to this forest involves either braving the dangers of the sea, where the Beasts rule everything, or to scale the inverted sheer cliffs of the Silent Mountains. Getting to the forest from the far northern Fiergon lands takes at least one day to climb up the mountain. Then, if one is lucky enough to reach the forest, gathering the supplies and creating the bow takes another twenty-four or twenty-five days. Upon completion of the bow, there is the next day to get back to the far northern lands. The best-case scenario just for the trip is about twenty-seven days, without any problems or errors in the bow creation process. Since no one is crazy enough or stupid enough to take on the Beasts during peacetime, the inverted cliffs are the way every warrior goes. Carrying anything other than one's self up those cliffs is precarious and dangerous. Food, crafting materials and extra clothing are necessary items, but those items need to be sparse if one is to not fall off the cliffs.

Bows are about the same height as the user, measuring near five feet. The wood they are made from is one-half inch to one-inch thick and flexible. The flexibility is ideal as the draw weight is minimal, allowing even a young boy to engage an arrow at full strength. Both the string and nock are made from a silk-like substance only known to be found within the Fiergon borders. Crafting these bows is labor intensive and takes an inordinate amount of skill, so these are the only weapons the Fiergon allow themselves to decorate or make unique. The craftsman can choose to adorn the bow or the quiver, but not both. This bow's creator decided on no embellishments.

Under the bow, a simple, fur-lined quiver holding thirty-three arrows leaning against the hearth. The quiver was decorated in the three colors of the Fiergon faith just as on their flag. The decoration, in fact, represented a crude and messy replica of their flag. A bright red border surrounded a forest green background. At each corner of the green field, a brown square resided. In the middle lay a bold, scripted 'F'. The colors are symbolic to the Fiergon just as they are to the Ardu. For the Fiergon, the color green represents the planet, the red border represents war's fury and the four brown squares represent the four elements of life provided by Manza: air, water, soil and vegetation. Without these, the Fiergon would not survive.

A suit of Chietzen armor was mounted above the fireplace. Since the Chietzen only care about their amassed wealth and status on Manza, they were nowhere near being top-tier fighters. To compensate for this, many generations ago, the Chietzen royalty allocated a massive sum of time and resources constructing the strongest, most durable and prettiest armor anyone had ever seen. It shone in the sun and when in contact with water, making the wearer appear angelic in the eyes of their foes. It offered the strongest protection from the largest and deadliest weapons. When anything struck this armor, the resulting concussive force and shock dissipated throughout the entire suit, thus enabling the wearer to feel a minuscule percentage of the full strike. For anyone privileged enough to wear Chietzen armor, the feeling of invincibility took hold. The wearer understands they can get away with getting thwacked a vast number of times without getting injured, much less be defeated outright. Many Chietzen suits of armor were fabricated for the express purpose of defeating the foes who presented the biggest threat to the Chietzen people. The one hanging in this room had never seen battle as it had not one scuff mark, dent or a speck of dirt on it.

The door, now a little more than halfway open, revealed the wall in front of the boy and Soor. Ninety percent of the wall had a detailed map of the single continent on which all the tribes of Manza lived. Aside from a few unfilled areas, the entire map was littered with details about all the rivers, streams, mountain ranges, underground crypt entrances, bridges, lakes, fortresses and city locations, as well as an area to the north reading 'PAGM'. Colored pins, movable arrows, and tiny bundles of matchsticks stuck to the wall as well. Is this wall used for battle planning? the boy thought. Could it depict an old battle that occurred during the Twelve Species War? Or perhaps it is just a representation of current conditions on Manza? The boy, trying not to look awestruck, figured on speculating later. He shook his head and thought, I'll ask later. There are more important things to do tonight.

Staring at the map on the rear wall stood a female of the Fiergon species, Sanye. Sanye is Soor's niece. She always wanted to be just like her Uncle Soor, but she enjoyed a physical connection to another too much to remain celibate. No matter how hard Soor pressed Sanye, she would never reveal who was more important to her than what training as a Mage would mean for her and the tribe as a whole. Though she refused to live as a Mage does, she always pestered Soor about battle experiences, fighting tactics, weapons skills, philosophy and fishing. Given Soor's prowess with a fishing pole, he was also an immense source of information about this topic. Sanye is almost as feared as Soor in the Fiergon regions, but outside of the Stronghold and the council, few know of her. Soor and the council see this fact as a strategic advantage should the need arise to put her into secretive services such as assassination, surveillance, subversion, or espionage. Sanye is cool, calm and collected when there is a task at hand, but when she is allowed time to herself, she tends to be impulsive, drink to excess, flirt with everyone and harbors no qualms about engaging in fisticuffs. She also loves sarcasm and making others feel inferior.

The Fiergon people are upright walkers with two arms and two legs, much like humans used to be, but they are unable to grow hair, enjoy three eyes and hawkish noses. Their eyes are long, narrow slits in their face and Fiergon are mistaken for not having eyes at all. They hear through sensitive holes on both the sides of their head acting like black holes -- sucking in all sounds available. Females are taller at just over six feet tall and the males stand around five feet tall. They took a page from the human samurai and ninja legends not only with weapons and tactics, but in appearance, discipline and dress as well. They are easy to spot based on their dress alone, if they can be spotted at all. Fiergon always wear dark clothing with red accents, a headdress covering their head, neck and upper back and a removable cloth covering most of their face. Their clothing is form-fitting with hidden pockets for thin weaponry. In temperate climates, they go without shoes, but in their native mountainous territory they wear thick, fur-lined boots with sharp heels.

Centuries ago, when the Fiergon and Humans first met, they realized