Chapter 8: Pirates, Monks, and Dreams

I still don’t know why he came that night, whether to comfort me or disparage me. But the point is that he did come. In a way, I suppose he has always been part of our lives. It was the Lurrannas who were the first to discover the power of Graymor. We were the first Dark Dragon Lords, and a little piece of that darkness has passed down through our bloodline. But the Desolate One has perfected what we only dabbled in.

“We should turn back now, Cap’n!” insisted First Mate Strag for the third time.

This raid was shot. He could tell from the moment they approached the moon’s atmosphere. The Elementals had seen them coming. Of course they bloody did. Some of them blighters could see the future. Instead of just a few patrol ships as was promised, a whole bloody fleet. If he were in command, he would’ve called the whole thing off then and there, but the higher-ups apparently had a bit too much Troll Rum before the Gateway jump. They thought they could mix it up with the Fire Fleet, the pride of the Elemental Ministries. Each Fire Ministry Ship could mimic the powers of an Elemental, using weird tricks like teleporting or phasing through incoming attacks. To top it all off, the fireballs those Ministry Ships used were damn hard to avoid, and could cripple a whole frigate with only a few shots.

Perhaps worse than the Fire Ships were the Elementals themselves. Some of them were actually flying through the atmosphere in their full-body armor and attacking the pirate ships in person. Using their control of fire for makeshift jet propulsion, each Elemental was as maneuverable as a fighter and a lot harder to hit. Most of the ones in the flight suits didn’t have quite as much firepower as the ones flying in fighters, but that didn’t make them much less dangerous. In groups of at least half a dozen or more, the flying ones would swarm in on the pirate ships using their own elements or even their weapons that could cut through just about anything. Not even the larger frigate-classed vessels lasted very long against only a handful of flying Elementals.

Another explosion racked the viewscreen as an arrowhead-shaped Fire Ship blasted through a rectangular-shaped pirate vessel. In the distance, he could see a frigate losing altitude as it fell through the atmosphere trailing flames and smoke. At least a dozen tiny Elementals were buzzing around it like flies and taking out what defense turrets and engines remained functional. He could make out the Elementals by the tiny dots of orange lights.

Strag cringed at the sight, knowing that cloak or no cloak, that would be them soon enough. They had already lost almost half of the cloaked vessel from that barrage of proton missiles. As if having supernatural powers weren’t unfair enough, the Elementals were smart too. They had lured in many of the cloaked transports and sent a spread of missiles just before they could make landfall. Strag had seen the trap coming and told his captain to abort. When the captain refused, he at least charted a safer course to land, and now they were drawing near to the surface. But that was little comfort for Strag. Their ships were dropping like flies, half their men already dead, and now they were expected to do a ground op.

Fighting these bloomin’ monsters from a ship is terrifying enough, but now we ‘ave to get up close and personal like?! I haven’t survived all these years by being a wool-headed id’jit!

“I’m tellin’ ya, Cap’n! The operation’s shot! Humphrey sold us out! Ya know he used to be one of ‘em, right? Well, mayhaps he switched sides again! We should turn back now while we still got our skins!”

“No one turns back, Strag! Not for you or for Ragnarök!” screamed Captain Craven with that strange, wild look in his eyes.

Craven was a big man. A big fat man, but also powerful with large arms like tree trunks and vice-like fingers that he used to squeeze the life out of more than one mutineer. He sported a scraggly red beard over his puffy cheeks, revealing yellow teeth whenever he spoke. His matted, greasy head was a slightly darker shade of red than his bright red bead. The captain always wore a black battle vest over a long gray coat that went all the down to his legs.

Strag had stayed with Craven all these years because the captain was a lot smarter than he appeared. Or at least, he used to be. The captain’s success was due in large part to his caution. He never took a job too far. Never stayed in a single area for too long. Never killed enough to garner much notice from the authorities. What happened to that cautious Craven that always put the safety of himself and his crew over profit?

“We stick to the job until we ‘ave enough Ministry tech to retire on. I hear there be some fancy pants dignitaries down there too, watchin’ the smaller Elemental whelps do their tests. That suits me just fine. We’ll ransom the pompous bastards and Chissler’ll pay us through the nose to get ‘em back!”

A loud assent rang through the bridge as crewmates shouted their approval with much enthusiasm before returning to their control stations.

Strag stared in shock with his one good eye, the other too bruised to open after a bar fight from years ago. “Ave y’all gone daft?! Half our bloomin’ fleet is in cinders, and ya actually think we can still turn a profit from this! We’d be better off stealin’ from the Lord Corrupter himself than these devils!”

Not one of the crew even acknowledge that Strag had spoken. A deep feeling of foreboding took hold of Strag’s heart, and it frightened him even more than the Elementals did. It wasn’t just their attitude, it was everything. The glazed looks in their eyes. Their hungry expressions as they licked their chops and grinned as if about to feast at a banquet after nearly starving to death. It wasn’t just the captain. It was the whole bloody crew. If Strag didn’t know better, he’d say the lot of them were possessed. Taking a deep breath, Strag made one last plea before the plunge that he knew would cost him everything, perhaps even his soul.

“Cap’n,” he said hesitantly as he put a hand on the captain’s shoulder who stared at the viewscreen with a vagrant expression that almost made him look dead. “I don’t know what’s gotten hold of ya, but if we don’t turn back now, we’re dead. No profit is worth that.”

The captain didn’t respond at first, and just kept looking straight ahead. Then, in a voice almost too quiet for Strag to make out, he said, “Ya don’t hear it, do ya?”

Strag growled deep in his throat, and shook the captain. “Look here! I don’t know if you’ve gone mad, or if some Elemental wanker’s cast a bloomin’ spell on ya! But I ain’t dying for this! I ain’t-”

Captain Craven suddenly stood to his full-imposing height. Strag was a shorter man, but he never let that hold him back as it taught him how to fight smarter against other pirates who were often bigger than he was. Still, he never dreamed of going up against the likes of Captain Craven. When the big, bearded man looked down at him with murderous intent, Strag never felt more terrified in his life.

Strag bolted for the airlock behind him. He planned to jettison himself in an escape pod and take his chances turning himself in. But Craven moved too fast, remarkably fast for such a large man. The captain used his powerful fingers to grab Strag by the back of his scrawny neck and wrench him around violently. Then the captain roared. Like, actually roared as if he wasn’t human at all, but some kind of monster. Out of the captain’s mouth sprang a black goo-like substance that splashed hard into Strag’s terrified face. Strag could only scream and gurgle as the black liquid forced its way into his mouth and down his throat.

The captain then released Strag who fell to the ground convulsing and spasming. He coughed drool and blood as his mind went blank. He could feel the black liquid slithering its way through his insides, wriggling and writhing like a thousand tiny snakes. It went down his throat, and then up again, settling in his nose, and then in his head.

And then, the most wonderous thing happened. All his fears and pains vanished. He could hear it! He could hear it at last! Thousands of whispering voices. They told him what a great man he was. How brave he was. How strong he was. They said that everything would be alright. That he was destined to succeed against the Elementals. Everything he ever wanted and dreamed of would be his. He just had to kill. Kill as many of them as possible. He could do that. He’d been killing most of his life, so how would a few more Elementals make any difference?

Captain Craven looked down at Strag with a half grin and reached a hand down. “Do ya hear it now, matey?”

Strag took the hand and let the captain bring him to his feet. He smiled, feeling more at peace and rapturous than he ever felt in his life. “Aye, Cap’n. I hears it now.”

Ryan was eating dinner with his parents. The grim jelly pie was especially scrumptious today. His Elf-friend, Henry, certainly seemed to think so as he scarfed down plate after plate, only occasionally pausing to wipe away the purple jelly from his face. Things were shaping up to be another beautiful day at Toramirese colony.

“How did the pie come, dears,” cooed Brianna, Ryan’s mother, her red hair swaying gracefully down her shoulders.

Henry just gave a thumbs up and a grunt, his mouth too full to say anything else. Richard, Ryan’s father, patted his full belly in satisfaction, his crimson eyes full of mischief.

“You better be careful, honey. You’re such a good cook that I might get fat.” He then raised a sleeveless arm, flexing his golden muscles with a silly grin on his face. “Then you won’t be able to enjoy looking at these muscles of mine that you seem so fond of.”

Ryan had to stifle a chuckle, some of his own pie spewing out as he snorted.

Brianna whacked Richard playfully on the arm, smiling sweetly. “Stop teasing, Richard. You know I didn’t marry you just because of your muscles.” As she drew her hand away, she seemed to reconsider as she gave her husband’s arm a good feel, messaging Richard’s massive biceps with obvious fascination. “Although, they are rather nice, aren’t they?”

Richard wrapped his big arm around Brianna’s slim waist and pulled her in for a kiss. She squealed a little in surprise, but then melted into the kiss. As the couple pulled away, Brianna and Richard shared a laugh, and Ryan and Henry joined. They always seemed to be laughing in those days. It was nice. Too bad it wasn’t meant to last.

Not meant to last? Where did that come from? thought Ryan to himself as he took another spoonful of pie and stuffed it in his mouth.

Brianna then looked at Ryan strangely, her eyes no longer the familiar brown, but black instead. Her smile was still kindly, but different somehow, like it wasn’t his mother anymore, but someone else’s. “Alright, now. It’s almost time to go to the gathering. Hurry and finish your dinner. If we’re late again, the Six Elders are likely to scold us. They say your minds are too easily distracted as it is. You’ll need all your mental fortitude if we are to keep up with the conversations of everyone in the telepathic circle this time around.”

Telepathic circle. Six Elders. Toramirese didn’t have anything like that.

“Mom, what are you talking about? What telepathic circle? What Six Elders? Do you mean the village council? I thought there were more than six of them?”

Brianna’s smile was now frozen on her face. No, more like she was frozen. Ryan looked around and his whole family was completely still as if someone had pressed the pause button on a holodrama. Richard was hunched over as if to stand up, but never moved from that position. Henry was stuck in mid-bite of a spoonful of pie, crumbs dropping from his chin frozen in midair.

“Wait,” said Ryan in horror as he finally remembered something he’d been hoping to forget. “You’re not really my family. You can’t be. They all died.”

Slowly, his fake family began receding away. It was as if they were made of wax and slowly melting under a hot sun. Soon, there was nothing left but a black space. Ryan almost thought he was alone, that is until he saw a little girl on her knees, crying with her hands held over her eyes. The little girl had gray skin and a head a bit larger than normal with long strands of dark hair similar to dreadlocks. Spiraling, circular tattoos that glowed white circled up her arms and on her cheeks. She seemed to be the same species as that Sage guy that Ryan had bumped into the other day, though that guy didn’t have any hair. She wore a simple, dark dress with tiny white sparkles going down the length of it that resembled stars of a night sky.