AUR: Acrimony

The Return

There was another earth in another universe called Sira. Human lived and thrived on Sira, they recognized themselves as Hym.

Summer evening, 1356, at Vergund Harbor, an airmobile disembarked swiftly into the air from a mercenary airship, Harrier. A young archaeologist Auron deil Aidenine returned from his four years journey. He drove his airmobile into the skyroute past other vehicles leaving the harbor for his home at Taldim, Vergund Capital City. The skyroute connected entire Vergund Empire architectures which towered from the surface of Zirvon continent as a conveyance mainframe.

Auron drew his short tousled black hair away from his goggle to look the intricacy of magnificent ivory structures. He had arrived at Alarit, the Vergund Metro Area, located before Taldim. Crafted golden and black alloys attired Alarit structures, reflected bittersweet sun light from their luster surface through his goggle into his smoky black eyes, the hue of the light harmonized with his sun-burnt skin when they touched.

There was existence brighter than the sun in the Vergund sky, it was the image of sun woven on each crimson banner which draped the top of structures, the image of Order of Light. Hym had devoted to this faith since ancient time, revered Erdal as their savior who saved Hym from apocalypse and delivered them into the new world, Sira.

Auron considered the Order of Light as idealism. Its sanctity had become a tool for political gain in Vergund Empire as his father, the Royal Advisor, Calthan deil Aidenine often muttered when he envisaged his movement. Still Auron was taken by their heritage, mostly their monastic tradition, eyebrows shaving.

Passing through the concrete jungle, a red hologram showed up between them and formed a read, Bull's Eye. Below the hologram was the place he used to visit before he left Vergund to make his dream.

The shooting range had not changed since four years ago. The same blues still mused from the old jukebox in the lounge. A deed was on the wall between impression of mounted hunting trophies and antique guns.

Long wooden bar spanned beside the lounge. Stools, glasses, bottles, were always orderly at their places. At the corner behind the bar there was a door written 'employee only'. By the side of the door, there were photographs of a pilot and his comrades and of a dad and his son.

While he was drowned in reminiscent, a hand grabbed Auron's left shoulder from behind.

"Been awhile, kid," said the voice. Spirited voice belonged to the owner of Bull's Eye, veteran Vaughn Smithson, the Eagle of Vergund.

"I thought I would not found any change here, Vaughn", said Auron alluding more grey on Vaughn's hair. Vaughn followed where Auron's eyes went. He puckered and crossed his arms in front of his chest. His incisive eyes penetrated deep into Auron's.

Vaughn was distinguished having short temper when someone mentioned things about his age. Each day, the old eagle spent hours preening therefore to stay fresh and youthful -which possibly made him looked like the first-rate daddy in the city.

Teeth appeared between Vaughn's open mouths, "Your eyes never miss, son. Welcome home!" Vaughn always had exception for Auron.

"Never, thanks Vaughn,"

"I got a lot to do back there, we'll meet again. Make yourself at home!" Vaughn turned and immediately went to his room.

Auron continued to look around until he arrived at firing line, watching people firing the red humanoid hologram targets. There are three men and four women crowded at the end of firing line. They are amazed by tall middle-aged man with suave demeanor who shot precisely every target's fatal point in his keen ashen green eyes. There were dark blemishes under the man's eyes, he looked sleepless to all appearance.