"Guardians of Tomorrow": Book One: the Rise of Veratta

By Thomas Robbins

Within the Xerxes Galaxy, on one of the outer arms known as Nara-Mu, had once resided an ancient and powerful race. Through the eons, they evolved and ultimately shed their corporeal existence, forming an even more influential and collective intelligence. It became necessary for these ancient ones to traverse to another plane of existence and, before leaving, choose one world to safeguard their legacy. No one knew this small isolated planet in the Agares constellation would have immeasurable capabilities left to their devices.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984573711

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"Guardians of

Tomorrow"

BOOK ONE: THE RISE OF VERATTA

Thomas Robbins

Copyright © 2019 by Thomas Robbins.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2018915018

ISBN:                  Hardcover                      978-1-9845-7373-5

                            Softcover                        978-1-9845-7372-8

                            eBook                             978-1-9845-7371-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 01/26/2018

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Acknowledgements

I want to thank my family who were in my corner these many years; Mom who always encouraged me to follow my dream, my father now deceased, Fred Robbins, who through his passion for writing ignited the fire in me, my wife Elizabeth who supported me through many rewrites, my son Scott who created a webpage for my book for a fan/forum, updates and future projects and my step-son Joshua who shared ideas during the final revisions.

Many thanks to all those who provided me with feedback, especially my writing teacher Kim Davis and fellow writers from the Cambridge Center for Adult Education (CCAE) classes who critiqued and supported me during the story writing, Gary and Fred from Bubblecow for professional editing and final layout process, my friends from the "Open Mic Night-Mix ‘N Music at Somethin’s Brewin’ and to my Beta readers at work, Rob, Randy, Phil, Quinn and Chris who urged me on and helped me determine what to keep and what to discard.

I would especially like to thank the illustrator who provided the artwork for my book cover, Avery Feloni, a gifted and talented young lady, who in many ways, brought my book to life in a way that I never thought possible! Her work can be found at www.instagram.com/avery_illustration. Or http://www.averyfeloni.com

Contents

Acknowledgements

Foreword

PART I

Chapter 1    Secrets Of The Past

Chapter 2    A Shadow Of Evil

Chapter 3    The Journey Begins

PART II

Chapter 4    Day Of Reckoning

PART III

Chapter 5    Choices For Another Time

Epilogue

Foreword

I am Xethrin, an Eternal and the last of my kind. I will tell you this tale. Let your minds and hearts be opened to the joys and horrors that must be revealed.

King Risina witnessed the opening to a strange portal that revealed a world he could never comprehend. This anomaly, one of many, had appeared to other men and women in different places and times.

Veratta had gone through triumphs and tragedies. Through the ages, the Verattans endured stages of development and conflict, from primitive wars, slavery and sorcery, to world dominance and global devastation. With a continuous reign of kings and warriors alike, the lands were painted in bloodshed, diseased by corruption.

This doorway into time never led to the same place more than once. Beliefs in witchcraft and sorcery grew prevalent, unleashing panic and persecution that threw the people into a medieval frenzy.

These manifestations continued, showing only a small opening into the past or future to a select few. Those who chose to pass through this time portal were never seen again until…

Ten-thousand years later, Veratta exists as an advanced race with superior technology. Having survived wars and attacks among themselves and from other worlds, they now face an even deadlier threat.

Part I

Chapter I

SECRETS OF THE PAST

1.1

My story begins on Veratta, the planet we had created and nurtured since ages past. A curse was cast, our powers diminished; but we still had hope. For the one who would return had to make great sacrifices. His journey will be a lonely one. If there was another way, we would have spared him. The agonies he’d endure would build his strength for what must come. It is done. May the Lords of Light safeguard his path; we can no longer protect him.

Aersyn lay on his back, eyes moving under closed lids. Sweat formed on his forehead. He arched upwards, as if something had hit him in the gut. Both arms flexed in their sinewy layers, like heavy rope stretched to its limits. His wife, unaware of his movements of unrest, remained sound asleep next to him.

Aersyn continued having the strange dreams. He watched the dark shapeless mass slither through space, while the rubble of a planet followed in its wake. He felt the energy of this unshaped blackness, pulsating in his head with relentless heavy thumps, like a heartbeat amplified a million-fold. From the depths of his soul Aersyn knew this nameless thing was alive. The newest addition to these surreal visions was strange voices. He listened subconsciously trying to understand the words, foreign to any sound his brain could discern. Sweat oozed from his pores, covering his forehead and streaming down his temples and cheeks. The words rang out clearer. A uniformed man’s face drew into focus.

Can we at least send a general warning marker towards the Inner Spiral? he asked another.

The other was a female. She tossed her long frost white hair back, eyeing him with pure determination. How long will that take?

The soldier considered her icy blue eyes, glimmering in the artificial light.

"I’ve programmed the probe and can send it out into space before it reaches us.

Her nod was the only response needed.

The image in Aersyn’s mind shifted to the probe, as it traced a bright line straight into deep space to some far-off realm that he heard named the Inner Spiral.

I hope whoever gets the warning is better prepared than we were.

The image flashed several times until he saw nothing. A few faint stars came into focus, along with twisted metal and burnt shards, remnants of a spaceship. The shadows returned. His mind unable to accurately discern the dark horror he had witnessed. No, please don’t, he begged.

Then came the chanting, just like it always did, again in a language he didn’t recognize. No, that wasn’t quite true. Somehow, he did understand some of the words spoken in a series of mysterious echoes. These sounds emanated from a swirling mist, rising from the depths of a large jagged chasm that took shape in Aersyn’s tortured mind. With a maw darker than anything he had ever dreamt before, its black emptiness cried for the smallest flicker of light, even a hint of shadow. This ebony abyss begged for its own existence.

Aersyn flinched at another image, daunting pictures forming around him that stabbed into his deep subconscious. The vaguest of flash memories came in tedious, unceasing segments and still refused to make their purpose clear. Another face appeared from this darkness. Aersyn knew this face, knew where he’d seen it before, and realized where the dream had brought him.

He felt the bed covers next to him shifting and a tender voice calling his name. His wife’s face shone even through the darkened room. Are you alright? Her look changed from a casual stirring of the early morning to a heightened alarming glare.

I’m fine, Marsena. Aersyn felt a sharp pain. A small scar above his right eye from an altercation he had with a fellow classmate ages ago, still throbbed from time-to-time. Try to go back to sleep.

He watched as her eyes focused in the low light in their spacious bedchamber. Their wide pupils took in the full view, his wet matted hair and the twisted sheets on his side of the large bed. What is it Aersyn? Is it the strange dream again? Please tell me.

He squinted trying to remember the segments of his dream, but like all the other times before this, they dwindled back into his subconscious mind, waiting for yet more opportunities to haunt and plague him.

I have to attend a trial later this morning. He was once a friend, but years and circumstances caused us to drift apart.

Marsena squinted. What kind of trial?

Crimes against the Foundation, he said.

Marsena pursed her lips. I’m sorry about your friend, my darling. But we can’t point fingers at the Foundation for everything that happens, leaving people out of sorts.

Aersyn licked his lips and wiped his brow in a single hurried motion. I have to get ready and be there before the sentence is declared.

Have you any idea of the crime he’s allegedly committed?

No, not a thing; I need to speak to him before the trial.

Marsena reached over and embraced him. He felt her warmness even through the covers. I’m sorry about your friend. What is his name? Do I know him?

Aersyn hugged her back and gave her a soft kiss on her cheek. No, you wouldn’t know him. He comes from a circle of people where I no longer have any association.

She smiled with a nod. I understand. Just be careful down there, my husband. The city courts can be a treacherous place.

I will, he said.

He pushed open the shutters. The reddish glow of the sun, which hadn’t even risen from its slumbers, still reflected from his eyes. All Verattans have small irises and inner eyelids that evolved from the brilliance of Ceres, the red giant. Through the ages these inner eyelids protected the Verattans from their sun’s intensity. He stretched and turned to gaze in the wall mirror. For sixty-five years old and nearly seven feet tall, thin and quite strong, he looked quite fit. His outward demeanor and meek nature was always a contrast. Aersyn looked at the mirror a second time and left with a sheepish grin back to his wife.

The scar hurt again. He stood in the turbo-wash and didn’t move, a strong spray soothing his body. The water evaporated on the heat grid surrounding the soft sensapad under his feet. It was the longest turbo-wash he’d ever had.

1.2

The twin ranges of Karpetha Mountain had carved their way through the Northern Plate, leaving their imprint in the reddish clay like giant fingerprints. Their peaks rose and fell in a symphony of red and gray rock. Even with massive heights varying from two to three kilometers, both ranges were dwarfed by the corusite dome covering the nearby city of Prytallis. The smaller mountain range hugged the city in an endless rocky caress. On top of this range stood the remains of the Tahl Temple, the oldest structure on Veratta. People still looked upon the Tahl Temple with dread and fear; isolated and bleak, its façade bore a close resemblance to a hollow skull.

When the Foundation’s decree forbade the use of the dark arts, the only lenience shown was to the Tahl Order, a sacred sect many eons old. This ancient group had survived the planet’s entire dark history. Today, the Tahl still aid the Foundation with its mysterious omnipresence. Even Veratta’s last war was won mostly due to the Tahl’s intervention.

Intense winds pummeled the sheared peaks of Karpetha, and the stone pillars surrounding the circular temple rattled like teeth. The two large openings looked very much like eyes from a human skull.

Inside one of these eyes, a large flame burned. A tall candle sat atop a crumbling stone table set in the middle of the high council’s sacred chamber, hewn from solid rock centuries ago by the original Tahl. Erosion had eaten away all four corners. In keeping to their rituals, all decision-making was held in this sanctum.

Its cracked and pitted walls somehow still exuded a strong sense of superiority. Perhaps it was the single raised dais in the center of the chamber, or the tall framed windows surrounding the room.

Regent Patrexa stood alone. He peered over his shoulder, fearing he’d been followed, but saw no one. Satisfied, he turned and opened the ancient door to the temple’s inner sanctum. Normally attired in his ceremonial robe and venerable amulet, he instead wore a maroon hooded robe without any adornments. Within this sacred room, Patrexa always felt a power and a presence that seemed to emanate from the stone walls and floor. He could feel energy surging through his veins.

The Tahl mysteriously rose to power following the massive destruction of many major cities in the Northern Expanse and had remained strong for two thousand years. Their ancient religion and beliefs date back to when Veratta was still ruled by kings and sorcerers. Their place of origin remained a secret for thousands of years, until the Tahl Temple was uncovered among the battle-hewn ruins.

Patrexa stood inside the old stone chamber, watching the doors and windows. The winds were strong outside, blowing with a ferocity he’d not felt in years. Quite fitting for this meeting, he thought.

Patrexa remembered the conversation with the individual he’d come to meet. The regent had been told specifically not to wait inside the temple, else the individual would not agree to the meeting. Why? the regent had wondered. Rubbing his dark beard, Patrexa extended his long thin fingers, summoning energy to his palm. He gestured, and the large doors flung open.

Patrexa forced his way back out into the winds. What could this creature possibly fear inside the temple? He rehearsed the warning in his head and descended the crumbling stone steps.

The wind grew fiercer and the sky darkened. Patrexa looked up, hardly believing the blackness that hung overhead like a giant cloak.

A lightning bolt came crashing down, nearly striking him dead. The electrical discharge burst into the ground. Patrexa felt sharp slivers of stone showering his face. He watched a dark figure emerge from the smoldering hole. This creature, clad in a tattered black robe, seemed less affected by the storm. Fire streaked across the horizon, setting off a chain reaction in Veratta’s volatile atmosphere.

To Patrexa, the creature looked puny. Its face was skeletal and shrunken, and its limbs and pale green flesh clung to a frame that looked worn and frail. Despite this feeble outward appearance, Patrexa sensed from its eerie red eyes a power he’d never felt before.

You make a grand entrance, scorned the Regent.

It is not by design, I assure you.

The dark figure stepped away from the crater and lifted his head up. Patrexa realized he didn’t even know the creature’s name. Who are you?

I hope for your sake that this is not the question I came all this way for you to ask.

A silent moment passed.

What is your race called? Patrexa asked, feeling the question held more importance.

Why have you summoned me here? the creature countered. The wind blew the dark figure’s cape.

Patrexa, his eyebrows raised, said, We are not inside the temple, as you insisted.

Why was it necessary to meet so far from the city? the dark form clarified.

It’s too risky to meet elsewhere. Out here, we are safe.

As you wish; I am here to help your people win their battle. The voice echoed loud and deep as if the winds were not howling. He continued to speak as his two eyes grew brighter. They are a proud and formidable race. I have watched your planet for centuries. Now you are ready to seize powers you never knew existed.

Patrexa looked at the partially concealed face again. He swore he’d seen flesh growing onto the alien’s bleached skull, a hideous display. Skeptical but curious, he probed further. How do you know my people?

I have monitored your wars, your struggle to keep your world safe from invaders. Veratta has been targeted by many, but I am not your enemy.

He averted his gaze from the gruesomeness before him. Why have you waited until now to contact me?

I needed to be sure you were worthy of what I can offer.

The regent turned back with a fixed stare. And what is that?

Your race is very resourceful and shows great strength in battle. You will do well with the greater powers that I can provide.

Our group has its own strengths. You would do well to remember that.

The dark skeleton figure looked at him, its puckered lips curled. What group is that?

We are of the Tahl.

Its face had shaped into something less repulsive; facial features became more clearly defined. The ears formed into large but narrow openings and looked more like long, dark, twisting furrows going down the sides of the skull. The new face, covered in blue-orange leathery skin, took on a more reserved expression, perhaps even one of respect. Ah yes. A small and disciplined group; believed to have defeated the Korari when they ruled your planet.

Patrexa bowed slightly. The Tahl code forbids me to speak of such accounts. You still haven’t told me where you come from.

That is not important. Let us say that I come from a place no race you have encountered has ever seen.

Patrexa was impressed. You can prove what you say? Give me a demonstration of your powers?

The robed figure said nothing, but its eyes grew brighter. The storm directly overhead built up with intense force.

Patrexa felt its ferocity swirling around him, while the ground under his feet shook violently. The wind formed a funnel that started tearing up rocks, sending them spiraling around the robed figure more and more quickly. The robed figure remained stationary, even as the prevailing winds continued sucking up larger chunks of the earth.

Patrexa stared at the trail of rocks suspended in the raging swarm around him. He knew even the Tahl could not manifest such forces.

All right, I am convinced, the regent yelled. You are what you say.

The storm turned into a cyclone, with incredible wind speeds that only affected the area around them. Not far off, the ancient Tahl Temple rested quietly near the cliff, undisturbed by the growing winds.

Patrexa looked on with disbelief as the earth under his feet fell away closer and closer to where they stood. His face grew red with rage and fear. Stop this now, I say.

But the twister continued to gain strength as more earth was carved around them, until a circular crevice surrounded them, disappearing into darkness as the fissure grew wider and deeper. The ground they stood upon crumbled to a small narrow ledge.

I said to end this. Patrexa’s contorted features, like those of the prehistoric Verattans, stayed on his face. You have proven your powers of sorcery.

Finally, the twister’s rotation slowed. The ground stopped heaving and the heavy winds started to die down.

It is not sorcery! It is science, a science far beyond your people’s comprehension.

The sky became lighter again, but the cold winds remained. When the fog cleared, Patrexa saw they were standing on a small projection of rock, with a ledge that was nearly six feet away from the rest of the mountain. He could not see the bottom. Would the robed stranger leave himself stranded as well? Patrexa wondered.

The regent also saw more changes in the alien’s appearance. Where a thin skeletal frame had been, two large stocky arms and even thicker legs now pushed through the ragged black robe. Claw-like hands flexed with great dexterity.

Patrexa couldn’t force himself to look at the alien’s face. The metamorphosis was more than his brain could absorb. He stood in the middle of the stone, his knees still shaking.

Just as suddenly as the storm had begun, the rocks began to move and shaped themselves into a bridge. The alien seemed to glide across with ease. Patrexa carefully stepped across the newly made stairway, trying not to look down. He held his breath until he reached solid ground. I believe what you say. What must I do?

I have already told you what I want.

But no one has gone in there and survived.

Hear me well. I grow impatient with you, Regent. You and your race must learn to widen your reach for conquest. I will show you how.

Patrexa tried to hide his fear. The power in that chamber is from an alien technology that no one fully understands.

I know about the Korari and how they once ruled your world.

That’s not possible, Regent Patrexa insisted.

Isn’t it?

But that was two-thousand years ago.

The dark creature’s face shifted into a grin. Yes, I know. Do as I say. You will be safe. We shall meet again soon.

With that, the dark figure vanished from the ledge, dissolving before Patrexa’s eyes. This he would have thought impossible, for even the Tahl didn’t have this ability.

Patrexa stood alone on the ledge. He remembered the history of his world. Several thousand years ago, after the Verattans had been plunged into chaos by their own primitive superstitions, the Korari had invaded their planet, not for its riches or technology, but for its people. These strange beings saved the people from themselves, subjecting them to a life of perpetual slavery. Verattan history books documented that the Korari’s true purpose was to find the ‘Eye of Eternity’, an ancient time portal hinted of in mythology. This gateway could transport the user to any past, present or future place. The owner would be a master of time itself. The Korari ruled Veratta for three-thousand years until, by some act of fate, the Korari were wiped out by an unexplained cataclysm, ushering in a new era for Veratta.

The regent stared at the empty hole still smoldering. The chasm he was trapped in had also started filling itself again. His face turned pale and his hands fell limp at his sides. He wondered, What powers are these? What forces would soon be unleashed?

1.3

Inside a gigantic transparent dome stood the mighty city of Prytallis. Within the high walls of the Upper Precinct waited the thousands gathered for the next heretic to be condemned to death. On this day, before the High Court of the Foundation, civil leader Altinaro had been found guilty and sentenced to exile.

The High Arbiter, donning a glistening white robe, turned and faced the gathered crowd. Ten-thousand years ago, Veratta was ruled by superstition and sorcery. It is said the origin of this evil came from the Dark Dimension, a separate plane of existence where malevolent forces dominate. Despite all the advances of our modern society, these dark powers continue to manifest in hidden places on Veratta. For this reason, we must act to protect our people.

Driven by their fear, the Chief Elders formed a group to govern and maintain order, the First Inquisition. Its inception dates to the old calendar, 10220 AE (After Empire) when Ktuhl’s Kingdom finally fell. Laws had to be written and enforced to avoid another tyranny. Bring the prisoner forward a bellowing voice said, resonating among the assembled crowd.

The Council of Elders remained seated high above the courtyard where two guards led Altinaro to a circular stone platform. The convicted man scanned the myriad of faces watching him. Grinning faces stared back, contorted with ghoulish delight. He found one friendly face.

Aersyn sat close to the front, smiling nervously, taking in the severity of the amassed mob. He knew that each member of the population had been subjected to the same scrutiny. How many others here were guilty? he wondered.

For a thousand years the First Inquisition had worked to root out traces of the ancient dark practices. Most practitioners had been found and dealt with swiftly to avoid further corruption. Banishment became the standard punishment; the convicted were teleported outside the city’s protective dome. The Interstellar War forty