Chapter Ten
~
Ardara
The Day Star was an amazing airship. The exterior was colossal, entirely of steel construction and painted white to match the city. The inside was extravagant, exquisitely furnished, yet practical for mid-air battle; wide, open main hold and spacious cargo hold, and living quarters that rivaled the palace’s own. Equipped with cannons, gas bombs, missiles and acute navigation radar, it was a marvelous weapon of war. Its predecessor, the Avian, was only half as much.
That day, a ribbon was cut at the end of the runway, dropping the signal for the Day Star to take off, with the White Herons at their stations inside it, and six other great airships trailing behind it. As the Day Star rose, and advanced, the others spread out and flew away in all different directions, like great birds of metal, moving as swiftly as if they didn’t weighs tons and tons in steel and iron. Some were to set camp in strategic locations on the Aleidian map, and others sent on their own appointed missions.
“And we’re off!” Jeremiah enthused at the helm.
“Like a dirty shirt.” Sven chuckled.
“Celina?” asked Orphenn, looking down at the shrinking palace through a wide porthole.
“Yes Orphenn?” she answered from the head of the ship, where Jeremiah was steering and Xeila was navigating.
“Who watches Denoras when you’re away?”
“I have some very trustworthy delegates who keep things organized.”
“Oh.” Orphenn looked around the main hold. Xeila was insisting on learning to drive, Jeremiah advising her against it, and Celina laughing at the squabbling couple. Cinder sat at the mess table, feet propped up on it, gazing blankly through a spyglass and looking at everything in the hold in boredom while munching on toast. “I see you.” She raised her voice to echo in earshot, as she was yards across the floor of the large hold. She bent backwards on the bench to glare upside-down at Jeremiah through the lens. “Your head is enormous.”
“And you’re really bored.” He sneered back at her.
She apparently refused to wear the white uniform she was given, as she was still sporting an all black ensemble, but she wore the White Herons’ crest on her shoulder nonetheless.
Righting herself, she pointed the spyglass at Celina. “Why are we going to Ardara?”
“I want to find out what Cira’s up to. Maybe free a few slaves.” She looked back at Cinder, her face warped like a fishbowl through the scope.
“How long will it take to get there?”
“About a day and a half.”
Cinder groaned.
Orphenn was intrigued to realize that Celina and Cinder regarded Ardara as if she were still Cira, still their sister. It was as if the last war and the one that swiftly approached were just petty quarrels between siblings.
Then he noticed Sven and Eynochia standing at the wide reinforced glass window that took up the majority of the south wall. Their shadows stretched down the floor. Eynochia touched her father’s shoulder, then left to stand with her sister at the navigation table.
He walked over to Sven with a sudden curiosity. The man was still shirtless, his uniform top swung over his shoulder.
“Sven?”
“Hm?”
“I know it’s a random question, but-why do you have so many scars? No one else’s are that noticeable.”
“Well…” Sven looked at him earnestly. “I guess I was the one that was fightin’ the hardest.” He gazed across at the sky outside the window.
“You look kind of off today.” Orphenn noted. “You okay?”
Sven’s eyebrow rose thoughtfully. “Yes. It’s just so…Déjà vu. Being here. With my squad in our ship. It’s such a familiar feeling.”
“Hm…” Orphenn pondered. “Is it a good familiar feeling?”
Sven smiled. “It is now.” He playfully ruffled the boy’s hair.
Orphenn turned to leave, trotting his way back to the table where Cinder sat. He took a seat across from her, and for at least an hour, they sat there twiddling their thumbs and sighing.
“Cinder.” He straightened urgently. She pointed the spyglass at him in acknowledgement. “I’m bored.” He stated, as if she could solve his problem. Which she most likely could.
She set the spyglass on the table with vigor. “Me too.” She motioned him to lean closer and whispered, “Wanna go for a ride?”
“On your weird-lookin’ bike? Hell yeah!”
“Okay, but Celina probably won’t approve-”
“Cinder.” Celina beckoned, her timing impeccable. “There’s a disturbance on the screens. Care to investigate?”
“Sure thing, sis!” Cinder said, seizing the opportunity to escape the ship momentarily.
“I’ll come with you!” Orphenn declared, and followed his sister into the cargo hold.
Cinder’s motorcycle was the only vehicle among the large barrels and boxes of supplies and other cargo.
As she mounted and started the engine, Orphenn stood aside, folding his arms. “Wait…Why don’t we both just fly down to land? Better yet, why don’t you just port us down? Why do we even need the bike?” he reasoned.
“Orphenn!” she gave him a look of mock criticism. “You know better! That’s not as much fun!” she chastised. “Now get on!”
He did so, but couldn’t help being a skeptic. “Uh-huh…So you’re saying we’re just going to drop from the sky, and still be alive when we get to the bottom?”
“No guarantees.” She teased.
“Ah.” He hid his anxiety behind a question: “So, do you just not like using your gifts? I haven’t seen much of them, apart from training.”
“Who needs ‘em?”
At this, Cinder punched the throttle, and ported the bike outside the ship, despite what she’d said seconds before.
And then they were falling. They plummeted and plummeted, hair and clothes whipping in the wind. Cinder’s face had a wide smile, but Orphenn was too caught up trying to hold on to think about his facial expression. He was about to give in and unfurl his wings before the ground caught up to them, when Cinder kicked a switch at the last moment.
Switch-activated, metal wings shot out from the sides of the bike, and they caught the air, mere feet from a crash landing, and pulled them higher, soaring on a breeze. Cinder let out a cheer of exhilaration. “See!” she shouted, “You didn’t need to worry!”
She flew the motorcycle to a place where the ground was level and landed, wings retracting again. “Whew,” she sighed, “that was fun.” She hit the ‘talk’ button on her wrist communicator and spoke into it. “Alright, guys. Tell me where to go.”
The squadrons’ crests acted as tracking devices and showed up as white dots on the Day Star’s radar.
“To the west of you is the source of the disturbance.” Jeremiah’s voice cracked through the speaker. “I’ll tell you when you’ve reached it.”
“What sort of disturbance is it?” Orphenn inquired into his communicator.
“Some sort of chemical reading. Could be an Ardaran factory or something.”
“Alright. We’re on it.” Cinder turned the bike toward the west.
“Cinder.” Celina came in, “Make it quick. We must carry on.”
“Eh…In a minute.” Cinder bargained. Forgetting her speaker was still on, she said to Orphenn, “We’re goin’ for a thrill ride!”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Celina cawed.
Cinder’s lips mouthed a curse when she switched off her communicator, and she gave a sarcastic “Oops.”
Orphenn chuckled. “I don’t know, Cinder…Wasn’t falling out of an airship thrill enough for the hour?”
“Nonsense, darling!”
“Fine.” Orphenn sighed, passively. “Where we going, Cinder Block?”
“We’re gonna he--Cinder Block?” She gave him a look of incredulity at the pun-name.
Orphenn only smiled.
Cinder smirked back. “Alrighty, we’re off then.”
“Like a dirty shirt.” Orphenn added. Then he gasped. Did I really just say that? Already, Sven was rubbing off on him.
Cinder’s bike veered across the road and spun around, stirring up dust as it sped in the other direction. Accelerating rapidly, the wings extended, and the bike was sent hurling straight for the side of a rocky cliff. Already, adrenaline pumped in Cinder’s blood, and seemed to pulsate from both of them.
The bike ascended abruptly, barely avoiding a collision. With a rush, Cinder suddenly hit the brake as they reached the cliff top, the bike balancing precariously, the back wheel hanging over the edge.
“Alright, now…” Cinder smiled deviously, then said carefully in a low hush, “Lean back…”
“Cinder. I’m not leaning back.” Orphenn defied. He was still slightly unused to so much excitement in so little time. “You’ll kill us-” but his objection was cut short when Cinder forcefully pushed her back against him, giving him no choice but to lean his weight backward, causing the bike to totter, and fall from its perilous balance.
Orphenn shouted in terror as the bike plunged backward, down toward the earth below. Cinder laughed loudly, a triumphant cackle. After a few seconds of torturing her brother with the steep fall, she punched yet another mysterious button, which set off a pair of high-powered jets that shot the vehicle into a more steady air current, and they floated on a safer, softer course, wings extended to let the bike drift slowly downward.
Orphenn, stiff and windswept, his long rattail tangled, muttered through clenched teeth. “Do you have to do that?”
Before she answered, she let the bike descend onto a dirt road near the foot of the cliff, where a small thicket of densely packed trees stood not far off. As the wings retracted, Cinder said, “You’ll get used to it.” She turned the bike around, then said, “Now I think we should get to that mission of ours.”
Orphenn straightened in alarm. “Wait, we’re on a mission?”
“Uh, yeah. ‘Investigating the disturbance,’ remember?” she laughed. “That fall really cleared your head, huh?”
“So…This is like a little mini mission that’s part of our great big mission?”
His exaggerated gestures brought a smile to Cinder’s face. “I guess so.”
Then it was her turn to stiffen. She quieted her engine to better hear a noise in the distance. Orphenn heard it too. It was the roar of another motor, possibly several. “I know that sound…” Cinder realized, dismounting.
“Cinder, what is it?” Orphenn worried.
The only answer she gave was a smile as the roar grew louder, to the point that Orphenn had the urge to cover his ears. Before he had the chance, from the coverts, came another unique motorcycle, perhaps even more so than Cinder’s, then another, and another, and when the last biker burst out of the forest, there were six, that surrounded the two Enma in a circle. They all dressed in black as Cinder did. Their ages varied as much as the expressions on their faces, though the only one who looked unhappy was by far the youngest. A boy, with long sandy-brown hair, cornrows weaved along one side of his head, and black and silver beads threaded onto the braids. Both his eyes were emerald green, and his scowling lip was pierced through with a silver hoop. He looked scornfully at Cinder and Orphenn. He held up his palm in a silent command, and every engine was switched off. It was peculiar to witness all of them follow the wishes of a boy who couldn’t have been older than fourteen.
“Raven.” He hissed.
“Sparrow!” Cinder called out eagerly. “It’s been ages! I-”
“I know.” He spat. “Where have you been the last three months? I was forced to take over leadership.” Sparrow’s words were full of hurt.
Another biker spoke up. “You know what they said, Sparrow. She found their little Young Prince, they been training him.”
“And he’s the long-lost Keiran Avari?” Sparrow’s angry eyes flicked to Orphenn. “This is the brother that replaced me?”
“Sparrow. It’s not like that. I wanted to come back. I had to stay for my brother. What would you have done?” she demanded, immediately regretting it.
“If I discovered that I had family left, you mean?” he came off his tall bike seat and walked to stand in front of Cinder. “I wouldn’t want to believe it.” His raging frown became something more sullen and genuine. “I would at first, secretly wish to go back to how it was-just so it wouldn’t feel so strange.”
Orphenn came in, with an air of wisdom. “Then you and I have something in common.”
Sparrow’s face flitted to look at Orphenn. His eyes were accusing. He quickly turned, pulling Cinder along with him by the sleeve of her jacket, the both of them disappearing into the thicket. When they were clear from view, Sparrow stopped.
“Raven!” he cried, with an infantile sob and tears in his eyes. He shoved her. “I’m your brother! I’m your brother!”
“Sparrow! Sparrow, hush.” Cinder wrapped her arms around his head, and he sobbed into her chest. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Orphenn watched, somewhat guiltily, as the two disappeared through the trees. A biker with a wide-brimmed hat and a mustache caught the look in his eye. “Don’t pay him no mind, Youngun.” He said. “He’s still a youngun himself.”
Orphenn nodded at him appreciatively.
The man continued. “The name’s Gryphon.” He dismounted, and reached his hand out to Orphenn. “You be called Keiran?”
Orphenn shook his head. “I’m called Orphenn now.”
The remaining four bikers followed suit. A tall, lanky girl with long blonde Rapunzel hair, ratted from riding against the wind, shook his hand. “Ibis.” She said.
The next three to introduce themselves were a pale woman with short white hair and swirling tattoos all up her arms and torso, who was called Dove; a bald, goateed man, covered in piercings, named Crow, and a long haired red-headed boy named Finch.
As Orphenn shook Finch’s hand he noticed that each of their bikes had their names, “Sparrow,” “Gryphon,” “Ibis,” “Dove,” “Crow,” and “Finch” etched and polished into the steel, and that each bike was different in shape and design. In curiosity, he shifted in Cinder’s bike seat to glance at the fuel tank, and his thought was confirmed. “Raven” was inscribed there in ornate silver lettering.
“Sparrow did that.” Finch said, noticing Orphenn’s observation. “He’s really good.”
Orphenn smiled and nodded, tracing the curly “R” with a fingertip.
Without warning, Sparrow came in a huff out of the brush and mounted his ride. “We’re leaving.” He commanded, revving the engine.
The others, however hesitant, complied, and climbed onto their bikes to start their engines.
Sparrow spun his bike around, his back wheel leaving a half circle scar in the dirt, and jolted forward effortlessly. The rest of the gang waved and smiled before following after him, back into the trees.
The rush of air tousled Cinder’s hair when they sped past her, and when the snarl of their motors died in the distance, she emerged from the coverts to go to Orphenn. As she approached, Orphenn tapped the gas tank.
“What’s this? Raven?”
She paused a moment.
“And what’s the story with Sparrow?”
She sighed. “The Flock. My Flock name is Raven.”
“The Flock? The name of your little…drifter biker gang?”
“Yeah, yeah. When the war ended I lived a purely nomadic life. Those guys found me, helped me out. At the time, it was just Gryphon, Crow and I. I was made leader, since I was Enma, not to mention the ‘Savior, Lady Cinder,’ ‘ya know. Ibis, Dove, and Finch joined later. We found Sparrow after that. He was orphaned, like I was….Like we were….And he reminded me so much of you at the time, though he was younger. I couldn’t leave him.”
“So…” Orphenn pondered. “He’s jealous of me?” he still had so much to get used to.
“It killed me to leave. But now there are more important things than running around in the back country with my gang.”
“Is that what you tried to tell him? Back there when he dragged you away?”
“And other things. I tried to convince him to tell the Flock to come back to the Day Star with us. We need all the help we can get. But he refused and got angry.”
“None of them are Enma…Can they fight?”
“Can they fight?” Cinder whistled. “You don’t need genetic mutations to be powerful.”
“Okay, you win.” He surrendered. “Now, I really think we should get to our-”
“If you two are finished dawdling,” Jeremiah broke in through Orphenn’s communicator, “there is an investigation to conduct.”
“We’re on it. Sorry for the delay.” Orphenn replied. “Oh, and, by the way, it was all Cinder Block’s fault.”
Jeremiah turned to Sven, puzzled. “Cinder Block?” he mouthed silently.
Sven shrugged.
The two siblings rode, and advanced calmly forward, onto a dirt road that led into a seemingly abandoned cluster of buildings. Farther down, the road forked, and Cinder turned to the right.
The houses were all ragged and old, weathered with years of neglect.
“Some kind of ghost town?” Orphenn wondered out loud.
“Yeah.” agreed Cinder. “By the looks of it, I’d say no one’s lived here since the war.”
Just then, there was a sound of haste from behind them, and she killed the engine in front of an old house where someone had rushed inside and slammed the door.
“Or….So I thought…” Cinder corrected, flinging one leg over the bike seat to stand on the dirt. “You stay here.” She told Orphenn, then carefully made for the old white house, whose paint was peeling, and whose dusty shingles were dripping and moldy.
As Cinder came to the rotting doorstep, the door creaked as it came slightly open, cracking just enough for Cinder to see one half of a woman’s face, staring at her from the other side of the door.
“I didn’t think anyone lived in this town….Who might you be?” Cinder said politely. When the woman remained silent, she said, “My name is Cinder-”
“I know who you are.” The woman interrupted, almost too quickly to comprehend.
Cinder continued weakly, “….I came down here from my airship to investigate a disturbance.” She pointed at the sky, to the Day Star above their heads. “Do you know what I might be looking for?”
“I know. Just by your eyes, I know who you are.” The woman replied unhelpfully. “You are Enma. Enma do not belong here.”
Cinder’s face was a mask of questions, but before she could ask any, Orphenn cried, “Uh….Cinder?”
Cinder turned her back on the woman to look at Orphenn. His eyes were pleading, and he stiffly twirled his finger as if to say, Around us.
Cinder glanced at every building, each one of them with a face or a pair of loathing eyes glaring from an open door or window.
“Ooohh….Damn….” Cinder cursed nervously. She took a step down from the aging porch, still anxiously aware of each open door and window, just as Orphenn gave a frightened shout.
“Cinder! Behind you!”
The timid woman had stepped out onto the porch, revealing the long dagger she held between her fists, previously hidden by the door. Before Cinder had the chance to dodge, the dagger was thrust into her back. She let out a short, staccato scream of pain, before she vanished in a swirl of black mist, leaving nothing but blood on the blade of the dagger the woman still clutched in her trembling hand. It fell from her grip, and landed with a sharp ring. The woman shut herself away inside the house, without another word.
Cinder groaned when she reappeared again, on the bike seat ahead of Orphenn. “Talk about a backstabber.” She grimaced.
Orphenn fretfully spread apart the tear in Cinder’s jacket to look at the wound, intending to heal it, like he had healed Eynochia’s burns; but when he looked, there was no injury.
He was sure he had seen blood on that dagger. He chose to ignore this for the moment. He might bring it up again at a more suitable time.
“What’s going on down there?” Sven’s husky voice broke through the speakers of the communicator at Orphenn’s shoulder.
“Nothing, everything’s fine so far.” Orphenn answered quickly. He made doubly sure his mike was switched off, so no one else would hear what he said next. “Cinder, let’s get the hell outta here.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth.” She acknowledged, then spoke into her wrist, “It looks like some kind of Ardaran settlement. A colony of supporters maybe.”
“A colony?” Celina asserted. “There are no Ardaran colonies, they were all exiled.”
“Well, guess what.” Cinder retorted. “Now where’s the disturbance?”
“You’re only yards away from it.” Jeremiah replied. “It looks like it should be inside that large building ahead of you.”
Cinder and Orphenn gazed forward, and the structure that loomed over them was built in hard metal and bolts, with a tall, smoking chimney. The smoke gave off an acrid scent like burnt hair. The dark building stood out against the rest of the beaten down town like a black sheep in a flock of white. Or more like a parasite, Cinder thought.
“Yup.” She confirmed suddenly.
“’Yup’ what?” Orphenn asked.
“That is definitely Ardaran.”
A bonfire crackled as it burned in the center of a large, metal room. In the heart of the flames, a heap of metal warped and reddened with the heat.
At the head of the room was a raised dais, with a long table, which seated three in tall, ornate armchairs: Ardara’s three favorite servants. Dacian glowered from the center chair, violet-haired Nyx glued to his right arm, and Wynne, off to the left side, resting his chin in his palm. They each wore the deep red and black uniform, with matching headgear.
Many supporters surrounded the bonfire, laughing and gazing up at the putrid smoke barreling skyward into the chimney.
Dacian smirked and rose from his seat. In that instant, the vast crowd gravely silenced, anticipating their superior’s next words. He straightened, and spoke.
“Comrades!” his booming voice resonated in the room even after his mouth closed. He walked around to stand at the end of the long table. “You might be wondering why you’re staring at a noxious bonfire,” he paused for a few chuckles to escape the crowd, and continued, “and for this, I have an answer.” As he said this, he gallantly trudged down the steps of the dais, to meet the gazes of his audience at their level. They spread apart to give him a path, and as he walked to stand by the fire, he produced a wide ring of metal, about the circumference of a small soup bowl. It was one of Ardara’s devices, used to suppress the mutant powers of an Enma. It would set around the subject’s neck like a choker necklace. It would inflict immense pain if an attempt was made to use a gift or ability. Its welding and bolts along the outer plating were brown with rust. It had a glass compartment which likely used to hold liquid. On the inside, opposite the empty compartment were three thin spikes, meant to puncture the back of the wearer’s neck, and inject the chosen substance from the compartment into the blood stream. “As you know,” Dacian went on, “this device prevents a mutant from using any ability whatsoever. A historic innovation, and genius mechanics. But you know what? It’s worthless.” He tossed it into the flickering flames with the rest of the demoded technology. Then his serious expression faded. With a smug grin he produced another device, less bulky, shinier, and free of rust. “Master Ardara felt it was time for an upgrade.” He twirled the ring in his hand. “This device does the same as the last, with an extra perk. While wearing this, it will not only hurt like hell to use any power an Enma may possess…” his voice had a surprising tone of viciousness, “….It will kill them if they try.” His audience gave him an enormous roar of approval. “It stops their heart on the spot. So, not only will the slaves be more manageable,” he paused again for the crowd to laugh, “but any Enma attempting to invade the castle will be rendered defenseless-and, let’s face it-dead.” Now he laughed along with the supporters.
Nyx had a straight face and applauded from her seat, but Wynne rolled his odd eyes. His weren’t mismatched in color like most Enma, though he still had the abnormal pupils; but they had quite a strange color. His were both a piercing pink, like that of a white rat. They clashed with his long platinum blonde hair that was held in a high ponytail. He glared at Nyx, that simpleton, with choppily braided violet hair, and black, fathomless eyes. She wasn’t even Enma, but Ardara took an eccentric liking to her.
Without warning, there were three heavy bangs at the big double doors.
“Why are you knocking?” Cinder reprimanded.
Orphenn shrugged.
Cinder kicked the door wide open.
The Ardarans glared incredulously as the two Enma stepped in through the wide doorway. Orphenn instinctively reached for the holsters at his hips.
Wynne felt an odd dizziness come over him when his eyes found the woman in black, standing beside the young boy in white. He longed to know her name.
Dacian’s face changed again, from a look of shock, to his signature smug grin. “Welcome!” he mused, holding his arms out in a semblance of warmth. Then they fell to his sides, and he said sarcastically, “Come to join the party?” he cackled.
Wynne sighed, again rolling his eyes. He wearily stood, and made his way to the door, still not completely over the dizzy spell. Dacian could really get carried away sometimes.
Dacian slowly walked toward the siblings with an arrogance that was almost a strut. “My, my. You’re a young one.” His red and black eyes passed right over Cinder and set on Orphenn.
“Leave the child be, Dacian.” Said Wynne, who had appeared beside him.
That’s Dacian? Orphenn thought. The traitor I was told about?
“Must you always make such a fuss?” Wynne complained. “Dismiss them and continue your long and boring speech, and we can all call it a day and go home.”
“Wynnie!” Dacian exclaimed. “I’m surprised at you! Where’s your Ardaran spirit?”
But Wynne gave no response, for he was frozen, staring at Cinder, yet not seeing her, as if having a flashback.
The supporters began to gather closer, all with mischievous or devious visages.
“Just let them go.” Wynne insisted, sluggishly, only just recovering from the strange trance-like episode. It had only lasted some short seconds, but he was greatly affected nevertheless. Then he said more forcefully, the absence leaving his eyes, “Just let them leave, I swear I’ll kick your ass.”
Orphenn was beginning to like Wynne.
“Oh, Wynne. I’ll let them go. But not without a fight!” Dacian scowled, his arm just a blur as he pulled his poison-dripped lance from his sheath at his shoulder.
Just as quickly, Cinder had formed a similar lance from a collection of shadow that gathered in her hand, and used it to block Dacian’s blow, the weapons clashing just above Orphenn’s forehead.
“You’re fast.” Dacian smirked.
In that instant, Orphenn drew his silver and gold pistols and pointed them at Dacian’s head. He never intended to fire, but this gave Cinder the time she needed. At the wave of her hand, there was a maelstrom of darkness at her side that dissipated to reveal her odd motorcycle. Anticipating Dacian’s intentions, she and Orphenn mounted, but not before Dacian yelled, “And how convenient that you decide to visit now! Try this on for size!” Despite Wynne’s best efforts to thwart the other, the device Dacian had been holding unhinged, and he thrust it at Cinder. It caught her collar and re-hinged itself, and tightened around her neck. She painfully screamed when the spines punctured the back of her neck.
She writhed and coughed, clutching her throat, and the bike’s handlebars to keep her balance.
During all this, the raving supporters surrounded the bike, regardless to desperate orders from Wynne. The sight of Cinder’s agony put the pink-eyes Ardaran into almost a state of shock. Who is this woman? What in the world is she doing to me?
The supporters swarmed, trying to tip the bike over, or to damage it to some extent to prevent escape.
Slightly regaining her composure, Cinder kicked the switch, and the wings shot out, knocking them all aside. She punched the throttle. “Fire!” she ordered Orphenn.
The motorcycle seemed to defy gravity, its spee