Once upon an orbit of planet Fait, a playful young girl and her flustered yet resourceful single father must endure sickness, encounter exotic creatures, escape a predatory government, and outwit a wicked wizard to survive just one more day. Having...
Soaring and soaring as fast as Io could fly, Rene and Nariah were free from Tetrapolis, and the four supertowers getting farther and farther behind them with every sento.
At a terrible shattering clatter, Rene looked back over his shoulder, and found that the Sirens, in their haste, were all trying to halt midair before hitting into the eight flailing spiked legs of Arachnor as the great beast fell. Instead of striking into the beast, their aerocycles smashed into each other, and, then, fell too.
Nariah was whooping with laughter. "We made it, Daddy! We made it! We're out!"
"You bet we did, daughter."
At that moment, their aerocycle began to shake, to quiver. "Daddy, what's wrong with the aerocycle?"
"I, I don't know."
Io's lights were blinking on and off. Rene looked back over his shoulder again, at Tetrapolis' four supertowers and their pyramid tops receding into the horizon. The farther they got from Tetrapolis, the weaker the aerocycle became. They started to lower from the afternoon sky, toward the black desert ground below.
"Oh, no, no, no," Rene mumbled, pressing different buttons on the console, but to no effect. The desert ground was racing up toward them, faster and faster. They were going to crash.
As they descended, the aerocycle was quickly changing, from blue and pink crystal into soft, globby green mud.
"We're going down," Nariah exclaimed. Her eyes closed, Nariah was gripping her rainbow braid, praying, "Sylvas protect us, sylvas protect us, sylvas protect us."
And so then they jumped the biggest jump of their lives.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
***
Back in the Jade Pyramid of Tetrapolis, inside the capstone chamber, upon black steps, Scythia knelt before her evil lord where he sat upon his black glass throne, scowling down at her with his lizard lips. In Gorchen's gleaming golden helm, she saw her own bowed head, face half-covered in uSee visor, reflected back at her. And then there were Gorchen's green eyes, narrowed on her.
"You what?" Gorchen sneered. "Repeat that."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"They escaped."
"You mean, you failed?"
"Y-Yes, my lord."
Gorchen plucked one of his many medals from his chest, a little red, heart-shaped medal.
"For that, you deserve a medal, don't you?"
Scythia shivered and nodded.
"Remove your visor, Sheriffa."
With trembling hands, Scythia did as she was told, keeping her head bowed to the wicked wizard. "Please, my lord, wherever she is, don't hurt my sister."
"You would make demands of me? You odiously overestimate my estimation of you." Gorchen snarled and threw down the little red heart at the steps between him and where Scythia knelt. As the little red heart broke on the black steps, a thousand red heart-shaped bubbles sprang up from the spot, and directly swarmed Scythia's face. As they popped, one by one, stinging her eyes, she screamed and clutched her cheeks.
"Your affections do hinder your vision, my dear," Gorchen said, leaning back in his throne. While Scythia flailed about on the steps, grabbing at her eyes, Gorchen pondered aloud, "The time for my Black Banquet draws near. Ought I postpone my pulchritudinous party? No, no, quite not. All will be perfect, all will be my will. The Black Banquet shall proceed as planned. And yet, this Scarthroat and Rainbow Rag Girl expect to find Redemptor in the shadow of Mount Veda, do they?"
While he pondered he swung his black mace back and forth, like the pendulum of a clock. He stared into it. He saw the swirling boggis within, and a few came forward to the front of the black glass, and there sizzled a sinister whispering.
Gorchen lifted the mace to hang next to his ear. He smiled, and looked again to Scythia, curled in a ball on the steps, trembling.
"And find this... 'Redemptor' in the shadow of Mount Veda, so they shall."
Smoke and light and snarling and boggi shrieks swirled around Gorchen seated on the black throne, who was laughing, laughing, as the boggis enveloped him in a green and orange and black shell of light and shadow and nightmare. Though her eyes stung mightily, and tears streaked her face, Scythia looked up. Gorchen was gone from the throne, and in his place, stood, in shadows, the very outline of the hero from last night's vision— "Redemptor," himself. Only this Pseudo Redemptor was truly the vile villain General Gorchen in baddest boggi disguise. He smiled, so handsome. But we know better.
