November 18, 2111 - December 7, 2111
Airra
Soft white snow covered the valley, swirling like a twister in the rapid winds of the blizzards. The once lush mountains surrounding this valley were now dying in this sudden winter. The trees become bare, unable to survive the extreme cold. Wildlife hid in their borrows, hoping this strange climate would disappear. But it wouldn't. In fact, it would only worsen. Whatever wildlife that hadn't already died on this planet would soon perish. The red mist that covered the sky and blocked the sun was to thank for that. The once tropical and hot planet of Idor was quickly becoming a barren wasteland of ice and snow, so cold that no life would remain.
Airra shook as the blizzard pelted her bark-covered skin with snow. Her arms were wrapped around her chest as she powered through the cold. She couldn't feel pain; she never could. Her body knew it was cold, but she felt no pain from it. The only source of heat she had was in front of her, a blazing pit of fire. However, the flame was running low. It was time again for her to add more wood.
Airra split herself in two. She remained sitting on a rock while her new clone dropped itself, stomach first, into the pit of fire. The flames crackled and bristled as it tripled in size from the new fuel. If Airra could feel pain, the sacrifice she made would make freezing to death the easy way out.
It seemed like it was days ago when the very distant sounds of firearms and explosions echoed from Mount Pillar. However, those sounds had ended only a few hours ago. Lonely, Airra almost wished she'd stayed to fight, though she knew she could have died because of her weakened condition. She'd failed to capture the third Quondam Key. When she did return home, she could only hope her stepfather would forgive her for her failure.
Suddenly, there was a sound louder than the fierce winds. Wings flapped through the blizzard, a beam of light strafed around the area - searching, searching. Airra jumped in the air. She extended vines and her arms many meters into sky and waved them wildly. The light saw her. She was saved!
The xyphin dove and skidded to a stop right in front of her. It had a light in its mouth, shining it right into Airra's eyes. She covered her eyes and hopped on the back of the xyphin, which then stretched out its wings and flapped with all its strength. The added weight of Airra, along with the harsh weather, made it tough for the beast. Nevertheless, it powered through and lifted her high into the sky.
Soon, they were above the red mist and out of the harsh winds. A ship came into view. Its design was familiar, an old friend. The hatch opened, and the xyphin soared inside, falling to the floor from exhaustion. She petted the creature, thanking it for her rescue. Nothing mattered to her more than leaving that planet. The hatch hissed closed, and she was soon inside the loading bay, which was stocked with wooden supply crates and newly abandoned beast cages.
Inside, she was welcomed by her old friend, someone she'd grown up with: Her stepbrother.
"Good to see you again, sister," said the lycargan warlord. Her stepbrother, Maliv Kuss, led Airra toward the ship's lounge so she could warm up and get comfortable.
"Maliv, you really took your time, you mutt." She jabbed him on the shoulder.
"Unfortunately, our father wanted you to have a bit of time to yourself to reflect on your failures. His words, not mine."
Maliv opened the door to the lounge, and both of them entered. The lounge was light on space and made for the comfort of only a few. Two couches with a hologram board in-between, a virtual gaming station, and cramped kitchen were all that was inside.
"So, he already knows," Airra spoke quietly, ashamed even to think of the disappointment her stepfather must feel. She took a seat on the couch.
"Afraid so," Maliv confirmed. "However, I decided enough was enough and picked you up earlier than he would have wanted."
Airra felt a bit warmer in her bark-encased heart. It was actually quite a gross feeling for her. "You're always so kind, little brother."
Maliv smiled. "Want any food?"
"All of it," Airra joked over her growling stomach.
Maliv dispensed a tray full of various dytirc foods and feasts from the Magic Meal in the kitchen. "Coming right up." He brought Airra the tray and sat down on the hologram board across from her.
"What's the next phase?" Airra asked in-between bites.
"Simple: Take the fourth key. Yalfari is close to figuring out its location."
"Oh dear, Yalfari, you old mutt." Airra chuckled as if the elderly lycargan warlord was present.
"And this time, someone already has the key. When the time comes, father wants you to take the key from this someone. He considers it a second chance."
Airra's eyes lit up. "He won't be disappointed."
"I take it you want me to lead the Wersillian Legion while you're gone again. Am I right to think so?"
"Dearie, I'm finding I have more fun in the heat of battle anyway. Hell, I'm considering making you permanent head warlord."
"It would be an honor." A huge grin sprouted across his face.
"I did say consider. Anyway, dear, you have a lot more to learn first."
Maliv cleared his throat. "Ah… right. I, ah… I did notice we are short a warlord."
"Strange story, actually… I never meant for him to die--"
"Die?"
"Oh yeah. He's gone, dear brother." Airra's quick response caught Maliv off-guard. "When the time came for Dro'Zer to stand his ground, it wasn't hard to manipulate him into giving his life to save mine. But it does leave us with a promising situation. With him dead, I can all but guarantee his dear old Mrs. Chieftain, Mara'Sane, will jump at the chance to get revenge on the ARW. Given that she is the only warlord that may actually surpass me in power, she will wreak havoc on our foes." Airra hissed a menacing laugh at that thought.
"Yeah, after she finds you first for letting Dro'Zer die." Maliv was slightly irked.
"I'll handle it."
"In the meantime, Father wants you to interrogate someone--"
"Ohh, I like where this is heading."
⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕
Maliv joined Airra, and they walked together towards the interrogation room that held the omelic prisoner. Airra preferred to call it the torture room. They turned the sharp corners of the narrow, colorless yet homey halls. She and her stepbrother had grown up in this mansion, and it was the only real home she had. A place she knew she could always come back to.
"Father tells me the Brotherhood of Relics' knights were here. They are on to our legion! They found Atlas!" Maliv spoke of the hidden Devisor room below the mansion.
"Oh, Maliv. Father let them escape thinking they had the upper hand. But now… soon, anyway… we will have the upper hand!"
"So you think the omelic prisoner knows?"
"I'm positive." Airra led her stepbrother into the torture room.
The room was dim, containing only a single chair. But that was all she needed. The omelic sat, hunched over, blood covering his back, and he was gasping for air. Airra lashed her vines around him, squeezing him against the rusted metal of the chair. This was the second time this hour she'd tortured the omelic man. The first time was just to soften him up.
"Let's get back to business! Before Steion died, he was instructed to capture any omelics who might know where the Brotherhood of Relics are located. That was what he was doing at Grando Military Prison - and do you want to know what common name kept coming up? Yours! So tell me, where is the brotherhood located?!"
The old omelic grunted, "I'll ne-never tell you!"
Airra snickered, "I may not be as good at this whole torture thing as Steion was, but… but I did learn that pain leads to mouths moving." Airra stuck needle-thin vines into the omelic's back.
"Aagh-AAGH-AAAGHHH!" he screamed. Airra prodded around under his skin with her vines. A minute went by, then she pulled out her vines and the omelic stopped screaming.
He coughed and croaked, "Th-the Tolkran Kingdom. Le-legend says the brotherhood left evidence…a book…maybe a scroll…something that would lead true descendants to find them."
"Oohhh… tell me more." Airra let out a cynical laugh.