The Book of Ominiue: Starborn Read online

  Kíe brightened. ‘And I am a prime candidate,’ he said with enthusiasm. ‘There are many Masters who would recommend me.’ Kíe beamed with pleasure and fidgeted with mounting excitement, which caused some of the riders to laugh.

  ‘You are still very young, journeyman.’ Pan’arden interjected. ‘Do not get me wrong, I think you would make a splendid ambassador to the star Ta’Orians, but you still have your journeyman’s obligation.’

  ‘That is true, but one can also request to become an apprentice of a Star Ta’Orian Scholar. I could live amongst the Ta’Orians and teach at a nearby village, or maybe even teach the Star Ta’Orians themselves!’ Pan’arden was still doubtful but Shayne interjected.

  ‘That is possible; we have many civilian Ta’Orians back at settlement who would give up their contracts for the opportunity. I too could teach you for I am educated in a field you have a basic understanding in. I could teach you at our level.’

  ‘You are a scholar!?’ Kíe looked surprised.

  ‘I am,’ replied Shayne. If he was not Starborn corrupted, he might have been offended by Kíe’s reaction. ‘I am a Professor; I guess that is what you would call a master, and if I never caught the space sickness I would have been the UeShádarn[8] of the teaching college we will build here.’ All the lionmen were greatly impressed.

  ‘Well, that explains why you are such a bad horseman,’ Pan’arden joked.

  ‘Hey!’ interjected Kíe. ‘I am a good horseman and I am a teacher!’

  ‘One of the few,’ Pan’arden added, smiling at him.

  ‘You know what they say about journeymen?’ Madan’rah joined in. ‘The main purpose is not to educate the remote regions, but to teach them how to ride and fight.’

  ‘There is some truth in that,’ Kíe smiled proudly, ‘especially for those sent south. Only the strongest are sent down there.’

  ‘And here we are stuck with you,’ laughed Madan’rah. Kíe looked a little hurt at this comment, his usual carefree attitude momentarily faulted.

  ‘We are glad to have you in our country young Kíe,’ Pan’arden said when she saw his fleeting anguish. ‘I will tell you a secret known to only those in the middle kingdoms.’ Pan’arden paused briefly for effect before leaning across to the Journeyman in a mock whisper. ‘They never send Kérith-Árim’s best teachers south.’ Kíe smiled.

  ‘What is wrong with the south?’ Shayne asked, distracted by the unease the word brought and forgetting to translate to the Brigadier.

  ‘It is not the entire South,’ Madan’rah gladly jumped at the change of topic, ‘it is only a few nations, they are not really middle and north kingdom friendly. Some of the countries can be difficult. They resent us; they resent the power of Kéirth-Árim and they resent that it falls in the hands of the Fa’Orian.’

  ‘We have little disputes with them,’ Pan’arden corrected the captain. ‘They mostly fight amongst themselves and they often come to us to settle their disputes, but they are never truly happy with the rulings we make.’

  ‘Not all of them worship the Kéaran either,’ Kíe added to look up the road as he spoke. ‘In some places a journeyman needs to take precautions, and there are very few Fa’Orian’s down that way, they are usually the first to suffer when something does go wrong, not pleasant for our kind when it does happen.’

  ‘It does not sound pleasant.’ Shayne agreed, wondering why the south was different.

  ‘I do not believe it is so.’ Pan’arden felt compelled to be the neutral arbitrator. ‘I have been south to Banadama, and I have fought in Daleflan over the Wayel-Éaa confrontation, there are many territorial disputes in the South, Ta’Orian Bardas fight over their lands as children over their toys, but most of it is stable. There are only a few places that are dangerous, and that is not as common as one would think.’

  ‘You have sung about Banadama, why is it important?’ Shayne looked to Kíe.

  ‘It is the coast where dragons last stood before they left to fight the raiders of the southern continent.’

  ‘And Anótole lead them,’ Shayne replied. Kíe was pleased to hear that Shayne paid attention to the stories and songs. ‘What happened to them? If there were dragons as you say, how could anyone fight against them, would they not just breathe fire on everything?’

  ‘Breathe fire?’ Madan’rah snorted as he laughed, ‘Of all strange things to say!”

  ‘No dragon breathed fire, Afra’hama, and it is not as simple as that,’ Pan’arden frowned.

  ‘It was the beginning of the downfall of the Great Ones,’ Kíe replied. ‘They fought their enemies until there were no enemies left.’

  ‘You mean the dragons?’ Shayne replied.

  ‘Yes, they were part of the failing.’

  ‘I do not understand. If all your enemies were subdued would that not imply that the great ones you talked about could prosper?’

  Kíe faltered for a moment as he contemplated the question and then he carefully and slowly spoke, ‘the Great Ones were connected, many were one and the same, and one was usually linked to the other. Many Afradians were also Dragonriders, they usually had a Karamara Dragon companion and Karamara Dragonriders were also wizards. You see the connection, no?’

  Shayne pondered on that for a moment, ‘Afradians were Dragonriders and Dragonriders were wizards? But surely there would be those left behind, those that did not fight?’

  ‘Indeed there were. Marakite of Markees was left behind, along with what was left of his kin and there were those of the other Afradian Houses that remained. Marakite watched as Anótole rode off with the host, and many Afradians and wizards stood beside him on that day. He was the one who wrote most of the chronicles concerning Anótole.’

  ‘What happened to them?’

  ‘The Afradians lost the will to live. Most of their kin had gone, never to return. They faded into the shadows and became nothing but legend. Nobody knows what really happened to the masters of magic, they seemed to have dwindled in power over the years. The knowledge to perform miracles was lost over generations, until nothing but the theory remained.’

  ‘The theory?’

  ‘Yes, all scholars are taught the theory, in case someone is to return, or a secret rediscovered by a descendant who might have the gift to perform them.’

  ‘Are you a descendant?’

  ‘Far from it,’ Kíe laughed. ‘No Fa’Orians that I know of possessed the gift aside from dragon influence. The Dragon-Wizards and Law-Wizards were not the exactly the same, they drew their knowledge from different sources and I am no such descendant, no great blood flows through my veins.’

  ‘Are many descendants of the great ones known?’ Shayne inquired.

  ‘Many are proud of their heritage, though not many Fa’Orians admit it. Madan’rah,’ Kíe looked to the Captain and Shayne also turned to look back at him, ‘comes from a line of Marhardra Dragons. No doubt he and his parents would be Dragonriders if they were still around.’ Madan’rah pretended he did not hear them. ‘His family heritage is larger than most. One of his ancestors is very famous.’

  Shayne continued to look at the lionman warrior. He held little interest in the Kushnalor, he found Pan’arden intriguing. Shayne thought if the dragons were as grand as they were made out to be then they would only choose the best to ride them. He had heard Kíe tell tales of Dragonriders, they were brave, intelligent and overly obsessed with justice and peace. Shayne knew this was probably a fabrication; it usually was when concerning heroic figures; fictional or historic. If by some chance truth did exist in the dragons and they did base their choice of rider on personality alone, then one would assume it was a very selective community. The riders were probably more likely to marry each other, enforcing the personality traits that seemed common in their society and therefore creating family dynasties.

  Madan’rah’s ancestral genetics would have diluted slowly over the years, mixing with others of different nature. The lionman was strong and fairly intelligent, but Shayne simply found him ordinary.
He was friendly and a good leader, but not the workings of a potential legend.

  ‘Look!’ Madan’rah pointed out. ‘Keemaíth is ahead.’ They all cast their eyes up the road. Shayne could see a river coming from the mountains and on the other side stood a large city with two ancient walls running all around it; on the outside rose a smaller wall with a higher one behind it. Relief came to Shayne. His legs and rear end ached beyond anything he had so far experienced, and he knew he would have trouble dismounting. Everyone was pleased to see the city: The Earthmen because they were all feeling sore and sorry for themselves and the lionmen because it was civilisation and many were stationed there including the High Captain.

  The horses picked up speed to try and get to the city a little quicker. The Earthmen gripped harder but it did not help and many of them had to keep adjusting. At first the slight change in pace felt better and gave Shayne some relief, but not long before new pains rippled through his legs and the original ache of his pelvis returned, not to mention that he could not keep balance and resorted to gripping the pommel of the saddle for support.

  When they were a kilometre from the great old gates Shayne saw that there was an honour guard waiting for them. The Bohaníde warriors sat upon great warhorses, creating a guard on each side of the road into the city. Lionman and horse were fully armoured, their dark metal gleaming in the sunlight.

  When they had reached the guard their train slowed down and Shayne was told to ride ahead by himself. After him rode Pan’arden, her pet tiger and Kíe side-by-side; followed by Hanniver, Red Rocket and Madan’rah; then the other Earthmen and the Bohaníde search party, with the robots and Star Born Soldiers following them and finally the remaining Bohanese warriors.

  Shayne did not feel comfortable up at the front by himself, he was used to being flanked by one of the three leading lionmen. He rode on hiding all discomfort. The city walls were ancient with archers on top of the gates peering down upon them.

  The honour guard wore heavy armour, with their faces hidden behind helmets that were adorned with a crest on top like the ancient Greeks. They held great halberds that looked as long as jousting sticks, with the metal points gleaming in the sun. The horses were just as heavily armoured with a unicorn-like horn on their head gear. They had great shields resting on the rear of the horses with the red-winged fire lion painted upon them. On one side of each horse was mounted a greatsword that a human would struggle to lift, and lastly they had the standard swords hanging from their belts.

  As Shayne’s horse reached the first of the honour guard a horn was blown from the far end and all the warriors in unison lifted their weapons off the ground and into the air. They all called out something that Shayne could not understand.

  He rode on beneath an arch of raised spears. When he reached the gatehouse the last warrior called out a command, sending all the halberds back to their resting position with a single fluid motion and a unified thud. The same lionman then called out as the party passed through the ancient gates, ‘Dama undíne hama ilnenoi alfama Kéaran.’

  The defences of the city were ancient and despite the effort to maintain them they seemed to be crumbling from the long peace. The city was doubled walled with a reversed dirt rampart between the outer and inner walls, sloping towards the inner wall to create a cramped walkway that would expose any potential attacker. Archer tunnels lined the first wall; dug into the rampart, where hollow parts of the outer wall looked out at the flat plains beyond. Shayne could not see this design directly as the gateway was enclosed with two great wooden doors leading into the city. He glanced up at the lookouts, with their passes at different heights between the towers and the curious shadows of archers looking down at them.

  On the other side waited thousands of civilians of both species. The majority of the humans had dark hair and tanned skin. This was the first time they had seen the native humans. There were not as many of them as there were of the lionmen; they were outnumbered ten to one with the lionmen towering over them. The humans looked in part lionish, with the men favouring long hair and beards and the women with short hair to look more like the female lionmen. It was an odd integration to the Earthmen at first glance, but common throughout the lionmen dominated regions.

  The crowd all murmured as Shayne passed, an unnaturally silent mass of people that stretched out to the side streets and up to the city castle. Many looked frightened. They seemed to be simultaneously in a state of worship and foreboding. Not as if a saviour had arrived, but an executioner and the feeling within the crowd was fearful acceptance.

  Chapter 03

  History

  “Science has not yet mastered prophecy.”

  – Neil Armstrong

  ‘I have to warn you, you’ve been brought here to meet the captains of the three colonyships,’ Shayne’s caretaker and teacher Desmond Van daBerg cautioned as they stopped before the double slide doors to the officers’ lounge. ‘They’re busy people, I suggest you be direct.’ With that he swiped his palm across the access point of the door and they both walked through to the common room. There was a table in the centre and a couple of shelves with recreational objects; bound books and electronic devices of various kinds. Books were rare planet-side: you could pay to have stories and other things bound in book form, but it was expensive and many thought it impractical. The Astronauts believed it was the other way around; they held books in high regard and had a thriving printing industry. Though being part of a moving colony such as the Oxford meant that physical copies were limited due to weight restrictions.

  The room had four doors, one for each wall. The door behind Shayne lead to the common part of the ship and the one in front lead to the Bridge, which housed the captain’s quarters and other rooms of importance including the main core of the ship’s intelligence. The two side doors led to private quarters of the other high ranking officers. Contrary to popular belief the ship’s bridge does not lie at the front of the vessel, but deep inside its interior; protected from any impact that might slip past the defensive systems. Several sensors connected the bridge via independent relays; if desired they could summon a 360-degree view in various wavelengths via a holographic projection that suited the room’s design.

  The ship was sentient with understanding and independence almost equal to the free-machine androids. The intelligence ran much of the ship’s internal maintenance with two types of robots on board; those that are independent and work with humans and those that are an extension of the ships conscious, acting as its hands. A secondary backup bridge was placed in the forward nose of each Astronaut vessel, used if the main bridge failed. It was a basic set-up with semi-manual controls and visual windows.

  Three Astronauts stood on the opposite side of the room; watching as Shayne and Desmond entered. They were all in perfect health as all Astronauts were; subject to the strict regime-laws of their culture. Incomprehensible to the Planetsiders, the Astronauts were often accused of committing many atrocities in the past, but the harsh reality of their environment and the necessary steps they took to implement the goals of their forefathers had ensured they thrived and maintained their individual happiness. Such success slowly silenced their critics until most of society had come to accept their highly restrictive and governed lifestyle.

  The Astronaut in the middle was the oldest looking with her light brown hair streaked with grey, it appeared that she had stopped taking the life extending supplements, not too uncommon amongst Astronauts who had lived well and truly beyond their natural life expectancy. Shayne’s guide said she was one of the oldest humans alive, even with the relative time adjustment she was second only to some of the scoutship Astronauts. She was also taller than the other two, and more stern looking. On her left was a young female; if she were a Planetsider she’d most likely be in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, but being an Astronaut she could easily be above fifty. The male was of solid build with bright blue eyes and short brown hair.

  Silence filled the room as the Astronauts re
garded their guest. The middle captain broke the silent interrogation with a single nod to Shayne’s caretaker, ‘You are relieved,’ her flat voice resounded confidently. Shayne could not help but register that she spoke with a neutral accent with no hint of outside influence, unlike his own, which even by planet-side standards was usually thick. Desmond responded with a slight bow before shuffling off the way he came.

  ‘So, you are the Star Born Victim?’ she continued while examining him. The male recoiled for the briefest of moments at the comment. As Shayne observed them in return he could not help but see that they held unusual demeanour for people of power. Despite their experience as commanders they still carried themselves in typical Astronaut behaviour, rarely looking him face on. They did seem far more confident in dealing with him than his other custodians, almost graceful in their own unusual way, but still vastly different from what he expected.

  ‘Yes,’ Shayne simply replied.

  ‘I am Arnahell Moore, Captain of the Oxford and Expedition Commander. This is Elinor Warren, Captain of the Eureka, and this is Dirac Anderson, Captain of the Manhattan.’ They all stood in silence for a few seconds before Arnahell continued. ‘The doctors have passed on that you’re only partially Starborn, with memories beyond any ever known to have existed, and a comprehension fitting your evaluated level of intelligence.’

  ‘So they have told me,’ replied Shayne, ‘but I remember nothing.’

  ‘Consciously you know nothing, but you can talk, and you can walk, you can distinguish many objects, you have a comprehension level that far exceeds the typical Starborn.’

  ‘And all of those things, be it conscious or not, require using your memory,’ Elinor added. Her voice was soft and sounded slightly uncertain.

  ‘You’ll probably remember other things too,’ Arnahell continued. ‘The perception test given to you has highlighted areas of activation slightly beyond the subconscious.’