Summary
Chosen by the god of Men and Storms, Zavier must come to grips with the awful reality of his homeland’s oppressive control over non-humans and lowborn humans. Unable to accept the horror, he embarks on a journaey to make the land of Stormwright free for all people. Joined by his closest friends, the group will fight through generations of trauma, discrimination and injustice on their way to a new tomorrow.
EPISODE 1
“The lesser’s mind is fragile and easily tempted toward evil. Left unattended, those of unworthy heritage would destroy themselves. As men, we must guide these beasts, shelter them, and teach them right from wrong. In the name of the Father.”
Zavier leaned back in his chair, looking down at the book with his chin resting on his knuckle. “How many hours?” Zavier asked as he turned to look upon a young female Vanari of dark skin and verdant eyes and hair, her long pointed ears stood straight as her back in attention as she held her left hand up with three fingers extended.
Zavier tensed his hand and sat up, closing the book and handing it back to the woman “I suppose I must be going soon then.” he said with a sigh.
The woman frowned, long pointed ears drooping slightly, her green eyes shimmered sadly as Zavier rested a hand upon the slave's head “Relax, it's just a routine mission.” he assured.
The slave's eyes brightened as she leaned into the palm of his hand, a gentle exhalation escaping her lips. A single, dainty hand tightly gripping her master’s shirt
“Enough, Tal. The scouts have combed the area twice over, and Andross will be with us, I’m in no danger.” Tal didn’t seem assured but remained quiet and obedient. “I promise I won’t let those savages hurt me, or anyone else, ok?’ Tal nodded with little resolve, slipping away from the hand. Zavier frowned and said “Why don’t you go out to the garden, I know how you like helping tend the flowers.”
Tal nodded and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Zavier forced a smile and turned only to be stopped by a small hand holding his sleeve.
Zavier spoke softly “You worry too much. Now please, I need to go have my armor put on.” with that Zavier made his way out of his room.
-----
“Remain still m’lord,” a young boy about 6 years Zavier’s junior said as he carefully pulled on a leather strap.
“Your hand’s twitching, m’lord, we have a storm coming?” another boy asked as he brought over another piece of the armor.
“Seems it.” Zavier muttered, head turned to the window “Either of you heard anything from 8th company.”
The boys paused to look at each other, both blushed and acted as if they hadn’t heard the question.
“If you know something, tell me. On my honor I will not reveal where I learned such information from.” He offered the boys.
“Well,” one began, glancing to the other whose head was shaking furiously. “We overheard the scout report to General Andross. We didn’t hear much, but I think he’s coming with.” Zavier hummed and stared straight ahead.
“We didn’t mean too!” the other boy added “We were doing what we were told and-”
Zavier produced a pair of gold coins and put one in each of the boy's pockets “Finish, please.” The boys went wide-eyed and quietly finished their task.
Fully armored, Zavier looked over the shining steel Good work as always. He thought, tracing a finger across his arm.
“Careful!” one of the boys shouted just as Zavier noticed the two hefting a large object wrapped in cloth. His eyes darted to one end of the object and saw a vase moments from hitting the ground.
In a single bound Zavier crossed the room, trailed with lightning as his hand cupped the vase. The boys looked on in awe, barely cognisant of what just happened. Placing the vase down, Zavier rapped one of the boys on the head with an armored knuckle “Be more patient and clear the way next time.” he corrected.
The boy only acknowledged him for a moment before quickly going to his knee with the other boy, the two holding the object up in reverence. Zavier reached to one end and lifted it from the cover, revealing a massive steel blade twice as wide and thick as your average greatsword, the sides etched with blue runes that sat with a dormant glow. With one hand Zavier twirled and manipulated the blade before placing it near his back where a brief crackle of lightning stuck it to the armor.
“If you see Lady Elaine, tell her nothing you heard about Andross coming.” Zavier said before leaving the room.
Zavier strode through the grand halls of the mansion in haste, his left hand unable to stop twitching. Zavier grabbed the twitching appendage and slowed his breathing. Soon he entered the main foyer where he faced the door with a focused glare. Moving forward his hand was mere inches from the handle, a crackle of energy leaving a black mark on its surface.
“Gone so soon?” a woman asked from behind.
Zavier jumped at the sudden presence. Clearing his throat, Zavier turned “I apologize Lady Brystowe.”
“That’s it?” She asked, a brow arched curiously “I’ve raised you as my own, yet you can’t give me a proper farewell before you go risking your life, is that it?’
Zavier tensed and inhaled calmly “I’ll be fine, Lady Brystowe, there probably won’t even be any combat.”
Her face softened and she looked down briefly before moving to look him in the eye. “Look at you, all grown up, rebellious.”
Zavier said nothing as she touched his face.
“Many storms I’ve endured raising you right. Whenever they call you away I fear I may lose all that time.”
Zavier nodded and held his hands behind his back “Lady Brystowe, I promise I’ll be fine.”
“Hmph!” she let go of his face. “And you still refuse to call me Mother,” she frowned and looked to the door before turning to him. “Though I suppose it would be strange to do so before marrying my Elaine, hmm?”
The door swung open and a young man, about two years younger than Zavier entered. Zavier looked over at the boy thoughtfully, particularly interested in the leather bound tome at his side and the long rifle on his back “Oh, sorry ma’am.” the young man spoke with a bow before glancing at Zavier.
“Oh it's fine, Reyard, come, come.” Lady Brystowe insisted, forcing both to stand before her “Honestly, you force me to take in this lowborne boy and once I grow familiar with him you drag him off to your fights!”
Zavier watched Reyard shift a bit at the mention of him being lowborne.
“Such awful boys I took in…”
“W-we’ll be alright ma’am. General Andross said it’ll be routine. ‘Sides, Zavier’s the Godshand!”
Now it was Zavier’s turn to feel uncomfortable.
“Nothin’ll stop’im.”
“Nothing will stop him.” She corrected “Honestly, all of that tutoring yet you still speak like a peasant.” Lady Brystowe quickly began tidying up their hair and asked “How long will you be away?”
“Week at most last we heard.” Zavier answered coolly.
Her fingers stopped midway through Reyard’s mop of curly black hair “Did you see Elaine?” She asked and Zavier said nothing. “You really should have, a woman’s heart is delicate after all.” the lady of the house stepped back and looked over them both. “Both of you come back home to me, you hear?” her voice was stern and posture straight, the boys barked their affirmation “And remember, you represent house Brystowe, I expect your showings to be most exemplary.” she then clapped twice “Uki.”
A plain faced, black haired Parthenon woman came in from the other room carrying a bundle with two boxes inside. Zavier watched Reyard narrow his eyes and look at her hair, his eyes darting between the side of her head and the two pointed ears on top. The woman’s smooth tail twitched uncomfortably at the attention as Zavier took the bundle from her.
With the bundle given, Uki left just as fast as she came and the pair left the mansion behind them.
EPISODE 2
“It’s an interesting proposal, Jeralt.” General Andross spoke, pausing only to take a deep breath from his pipe. “With that much unrefined Aethyr we would be able to complete project Forge-Titan. That is your intention, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Jeralt hissed, his voice high and raspy “This is an unprecedented opportunity, the Brokon Republic has never had such a fatal lapse in security before,” Andross wore a face of stone, wise enough to keep as neutral an appearance as possible during a negotiation. “If we sent the 3rd and 5th fleet I could conjure us a spell to leave us unnoticed until it's too late. We could capture the Aethyr, maybe a few new slaves and raze the port to the ground.” Jeralt took another pause, eyes narrowed to slits. Andross knew what he was looking for, approval, disapproval, even just idle curiosity. Instead, Andross took another deep breath “General Andross, if-”
Jeralt stepped forward to speak further but Andross held a hand up to halt him, “Jeralt,” Andross began, setting the old pipe on his desk, glancing briefly to read the inscription ‘To Papa’ placed beside its greenish copper bindings . “You have always asked too much of me, dear friend. And now you ask for a full assault of the Fanged Coast for one of your… machines.”
“Not just any machine!” Jeralt argued, swooping around the desk to stand before the general “The Forge-Titan, once complete, would rival an Engine of Destruction. Think about it, all that power, at the behest of Stormwright! The Redclaws rebellion will be crushed, we will no longer need to fear Elzarus and their petty God-King, even the Alliance would-”
Andross put a hand on Jeralt’s shoulder “How much time do we have?”
Jeralt’s face curled into a smile “About six months,”
“And how many Stormwalker’s can I trust from you?”
“Well…” Jeralt began “It would put back the Forge-Titan’s production but I can promise you twenty in that time.”
Andross chuckled and sat in his chair, the old, stretched leather squeaking beneath him “How did you come across this information anyways?”
“Ah, yes, well… it was Godwin’s information, to tell the truth.”
“And he knew he’d need to share with you to get me to help, yes?” Andross said as he pulled open a drawer, the wood rattling and scraping with age, taking out some green herbs to pack his pipe.
Jeralt flicked his wrist and a spark formed within the pipe and Andross enjoyed a deep breath from it “Indeed, and he sent me a bargaining chip though I knew you’d say yes regardless.” Andross perked a brow, leaning forward to hear more “It’s a new model of rifle designed specifically to endure his new blackpowder refining process.”
Andross extended a hand expectantly. Jeralt looked at the general and frowned and began tracing a few signs in the air, opening a glimmering circle of energy in the air and reaching in before pulling out the weapon and handing it to Andross. Andross handled it carefully, his armored fingers tracing the rifle from barrel to stock. “Steel of this quality is only put in the hands of our greatest knights, and this wood… Yashel Oak. Longer than most rifles too. Godwin must be quite the optimist to think we could build a full line of men holding these.”
“Yes, well, this is a custom model meant to test various applications of the new refining process. With further experimentation more commonly available weapons would be usable with the blackpowder.”
“I’ll take it,” Jeralt sighed, clearly he was hoping to avoid giving up the weapon “And I’m certain this special powder was also on offer for the weapon?” as before Jeralt waved his hands and produced two leather bags and pushed them over to Andross.
“Fancy testing it, old friend?” Jeralt asked.
“No, never had need of anything but the sword at my side. However, I do have a particular Thunderman coming with me on today’s mission. I’ll let him show it off for me.” and as if on cue there was a knock at the door.
-----
“Him and that Jeralt creep’s been in there for a downpour. Wonder what’s being said?” Reyard asked, lazily polishing his rifle.
“Think you’re getting a new toy.” Zavier said from beside the door. Reyard perched a brow, clearly wanting to know more. “Wait.” Zavier muttered, taking a step back and knocking.
“Just one moment,” Andross spoke loudly.
“He really comin’ with?” Reyard asked. Zavier gave him a slow nod “Well, maybe we won’t be goin’ after all? I’m no coward, but if its a General Andross kinda problem…”
“Whatever the threat, we’ll just be providing support. Besides, we could use the training.” Zavier added, beginning to pace.
“I don’t exactly consider fightin’ terrorists a valid form’a exercise.”
“The harvest won’t come without wind and rain.”
“More of a meat guy m’self.” Zavier shot Reyard with a glare that caused the boy to shrink “Ah, well, carrots are good too… sweet…” Reyard coughed into a hand and put his rifle aside.
“Worrying about the storm is pointless,” Zavier said with an added sigh “either we get wet or we don’t.”
Reyard breathed out all at once “ ‘Ow can you keep a straight face thinkin’ like that?” Zavier shrugged but saw Reyard was unsatisfied “You’re more stoney than a plain-face, I ever tell you that?”
Zavier grunted and thought Only enough to be tiring.
Reyard didn’t wait for a response “If I’m goin’ anywhere near that red ‘aired fuzzy, I want a suita my own.” jabbing a gloved finger against Zavier’s plate.
Zavier crossed his armored arms and said “If he’s as strong as they say, the plate will give you the extra second needed to properly regret wearing it.”
Reyard shivered “If you’re ‘avin’ a laugh, could ya smile so I know?”
Zavier just shrugged once more and turned to wait on the door A few more minutes passed before the door finally opened.
Jeralt looked up at Zavier as he exited “Godshand! I wasn’t expecting to be in your company.” the little old man bowed his pale, balding head.
“No need to bow, Master Jeralt, you’re too old to bow to a child like me. Besides, your work has done more for us than I ever have.” Zavier replied honestly, masking his distaste for the man with genuine respect for his work.
Jeralt bowed once more wordlessly before continuing off. Andross followed close behind and looked to Zavier, clapping his arm and saying “Zavier, my boy!” turning quickly to Reyard “and of course, your young ward.” he added with a nod.
Andross was carrying a rifle on his back, and both Zavier and Reyard took immediate notice. Zavier glanced at his younger friend and saw the hunger burning in his eyes, eager to put his hands on the impressive tool. Zavier turned to Andross and dipped his head “General Andross.”
Andross’s smile faded as he looked into Zavier’s face “So you heard I’ll be joining you.” Zavier said nothing, though Reyard’s expression grew dour. Letting go of Zavier, the general said “Our scouts returned from Rosswin after investigating the disappearances, it’s more dire than we thought.”
“Rosswin, is it-”
“Safe, for now,” Andross began walking, the other two following close behind “We had believed the disappearances just a matter of kidnappings from the Hand or The Crimson Moon, but this is far more serious.” Andross’ face grew dark, and without turning to the two he said “We have a kobold den.”
Reyard stopped in place and Zavier strode forward to look into Andross’ eyes “A den? How?”
Andross, without breaking stride added “And they have a mother.”
Enjoy the best Sci-Fi and Fantasy stories on the go.
Recommended stories!
