Anthem's Fall

Chapter Seven

Chapter Six

Vengelis

 

In the highest latitudinal reaches of Anthem, not far from the northernmost pole, Prince Vengelis Epsilon stood up to his knees in the snow of Mount Karlsbad. A cold wind was blowing the dusty snow into his dark hair and darker eyes. Vengelis Epsilon was short for a Primus, standing a shade over six feet. Like his father and most children of the Royal bloodlines, Vengelis lacked the unnaturally tall and bulky stature of many Imperial First Class soldiers. His frame was more honed and well proportioned than ungainly.

Heir to the Epsilon throne, Vengelis was undeniably the strongest of his people. From the oldest man to the youngest child, every citizen of the Epsilon empire knew what their prince lacked in size, he made up for in his pure Sejero bloodline and his legendary intensity.

Far from the hubs of Primus society and crowded streets of Sejeroreich, Mount Karlsbad stood in a vastly secluded region of Anthem’s northern ice world. Rising out of the endless snows and frigid plains, Mount Karlsbad was the lone frozen citadel in the empty North. The absolute desolation and unobstructed environment proved ideal for training, a harsh and stalwart land suitable for the few mad enough to train there.

It was on the precipitous slopes of Mount Karlsbad that the enigmatic Master Borneo Tolland resided. Vengelis Epsilon had trained with Master Tolland for many years in his teens. Yet still, Vengelis would return to train with his former teacher. In a way Mount Karlsbad was Vengelis’s home. He preferred spending time here with Master Tolland, thousands of miles away from the nearest societal distraction.

“Focus,” Vengelis whispered into the biting wind, his eyes slowly searching the striking blue sky and the snow desert and winding glaciers far below. There were three out there, but he could not see them. Vengelis had no doubt they were waiting to pounce upon him in unison. Two of the most extraordinary soldiers in Sejeroreich had come north with him to act as his sparring partners. Though strong and stern Imperial First Class soldiers, they would prove little more than practice dummies against Vengelis’s skill. His only real concern was Master Tolland, who would certainly wait for Vengelis to make a mistake before he revealed himself.

Vengelis knew they would try to attack from different directions.

A heavy gust off the mountainside churned a snowdrift and blinded him in swirling white. Vengelis closed his eyes at once, freeing himself from the shackles of sight, as Master Tolland had taught him. Vision would be no help to him in this precarious position amid the blinding snow. He would have to feel their approach now.

Vengelis rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms, veins and cords of muscle rising to the surface of his skin. As he centered his mind, the air around him became palpable. The screaming of the polar winds died in his ears. He focused on ridding his lungs of frigid air and his bare fingers of gnawing subzero cold. Vengelis slipped into readiness, no longer relying on any one sense. He concentrated on the approach of his attackers. Like a coiled snake, Vengelis Epsilon stood at perfect attention—ready to lash out in an instant.

A faint ripple moved through the now placid world surrounding him. It was Alegant Hoff lumbering toward him from six o’clock, directly behind. Alegant Hoff was the Lord General of the Imperial First Class, third in command only to the Epsilons themselves, Faris and Vengelis respectively. Lord General Hoff was strong, very strong, but his strength came with a critical loss of quickness and discretion. He was underestimating the powers of his prince; Vengelis could sense it in the recklessness of his heavy footfalls.

Vengelis then felt Krell Darien coming in, head on. If Lord General Hoff was charging at him with a reckless speed, the pace of this young Royal Guard was outright foolish. Darien was a promising member of the Royal Guard, one of the youngest soldiers in history to reach the Royal Guard’s renowned ranks. Vengelis had personally selected Darien to join his training after seeing him devastate several of his peers in duels.

Hoff and Darien were two of the most powerful soldiers in the Imperial First Class. Both of their behemoth masses shook the world around Vengelis. He tilted his head into the blustering wind, eyes still closed. Where was Master Tolland?