ValentineDavis21
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The Caethsan was gone. Bhal-Ghor could only watch helplessly as his new cellmate was consumed by the jaws of the Tyrannus. Gone in the blink of an eye. Dead. There was no recovery from such a thing. When falling into the belly of the beast death was absolute. And he was stuck, trapped inside a crack inside a rock wall. In pain, unable to move. For the second time in a week the tables had been turned on him. The first time Aethan had filled him with thoughts and memories that were not his ow
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Something moved in the dark, gone before Aethan could see what it truly was. It could have been a tentacle or it could have been a wing - it could have been anything. He didn’t try to reach out with his mind. He was already overwhelmed by the thoughts and emotions of the crowds. Everyone was waiting with bated breath. What would come through the gate? What would the Cathesan and the Felid Ghrul be facing? He risked a quick sideways glance at Bhal-Ghor and felt an alarm claxon go off in his head.
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Aethan and Ghor did not speak, did not look at each other for the next few hours. It was as if the conversation with Vaxen and the inevitability of the next match had taken what little ardor they had left in them. In spite of his discomfort and the silent wish for death, a thousand thoughts and questions raced incessantly through his mind. The question at the top of his mind reigned supremely: Why hadn't the felid warrior followed Vaxen's order, done what was best for himself in order to su
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Thank you for the support. Glad you are enjoying the story.
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I should be dead, Aethan thought, resting his head against the rock wall. He watched the steady rise and fall of Bhal-Ghor's chest, knowing that the felid would wake up eventually, and kill him. That was why Vaxen had put him in the prisoner’s cell. I should have died long before that. I should have died on Caethsan. The only reason why I didn't was because of Vash…otherwise I never would have survived without him. And there was the emergency shuttle. Balhice could have killed me then and there
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Bhal-Ghor paced restlessly from one end of his cell to the next. Given the narrow confines of the cell and the broadness of his shoulders there wasn't a lot of room to move around in. It was always like this moments before a battle: thoughts racing in a thousand directions, muscles tensing and untensing, hackles raised, tail swaying from side to side, blood hot and thick in his veins. I’ve been stuck on this rock for the last two centuries…it's practically the only thing I can remember now: figh
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The lights of the arena were far brighter than how they had appeared in his head. He stepped out onto a shelf made of oxidized iron that brushed the gap between the platform and the stage of the arena. Aethan peered over the edge of the shelf and felt his stomach clench: he found himself staring down a hundred foot ledge that ended with jagged rocks at the bottom. He drew back, his fingers tightening around the shaft of his spear. Through the blinding halos of light he could hear the buzzing mur
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Aethan wasn't sure how long he’d slept before the cramps started to seize him. At first they started in his thighs, muscles coiling and knotting like wires pulled taut, curling his toes. He tried to stretch to work out the kinks only for a fresh wave of spasms to ripple up his abdomen, forcing the breath from his lungs in a silent scream. Cold, oily sweat broke out across his forehead. The cramped confines of the cell felt icy. The wall of resistance that he had built to block the psychic feedba
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The first thing that Aethan became aware of was that he was cold and in pain. He laid on a flat, cold surface, curled into a fetal position. His skin burned from a chill that seemed to come straight from his bones. Cramps wrapped his body, the muscles in his stomach and thighs tightening, his nerves firing. He tried to scream but his voice caught in his throat. Blinding light seared his eyes. Gradually he became aware that he was not alone. Voice is pressed in on him from all sides, d
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The shuttle breached Cathesan’s atmosphere. The compressed air that buffeted the outside of the ship burned bright and hot, making it impossible to see through the viewscreen. Sensors chirped and blinked. The screen on the console flashed. Aethan still couldn’t move; whatever sedative Vash had injected him with was still in his system. All he could do was wait as the shuttle rattled, his teeth vibrating in his skull. He closed his eyes, preparing for the shuttle to come apart. He’d lost everythi
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The shipyards were housed in their own private sector of Valanore. Its industrial scale was massive, a cluster of pointed towers and steel silos and huge, sprawling complexes with vast open spaces. Massive cranes that were as tall as any spire stood silent and unmoving under Cathesan’s burning sky. Efforts of reconstruction of the city had long since stalled, with the Empire’s attention focused on the war. Aethan had only visited the shipyards a scant number of times and each time had overwhelm
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Thanks, I am glad that you are enjoying the story.
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“Here! Stop here!” Vash skidded to a halt at the bottom of a steep flight of flagstone steps. The steps led up to the towering edifice of an ancient monastery. Flying buttresses swept across glowing crystal glass windows that flickered with candlelight. Aethan took instant comfort at the familiar sight of the grand Cathesan architecture, characterized by sweeping arches and pointed pinnacles. That anything was still standing fascinated him. High above i
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Aethan followed Vash and the guard of Felid-Ghrul warriors out into the night, his staff gripped at his side. In spite of being able to match the speed and grace of his protectors, the Cathesan’s endurance was starting to meet its limit. Only now did he truly realize how his heavy use of Estristatmer had weakened his body, and cursed himself for his addiction. The Ghrul flitted between the shadows, moving with the grace and speed of true felines. While the Cathesan's could match them in speed th
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Aethan and Vash followed the guard down the rounded corridor, heading for the lift at the end of the path. The air outside the tower whistled and the walls of the tower trembled as the battle continued to wage outside the city. The sluggish effects of the Estristatmer had faded, spikes of adrenaline shooting through Aethan’s body. His azure eyes glowed like beacons of blue light. Every muscle in his body was tense, ready to spring into action. Before they could reach the lif
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1.01: Bleeding Skies
ValentineDavis21 commented on ValentineDavis21's story chapter in 1.01: Bleeding Skies
Thank you, it feels good to be back. 😊 -
The planet of Cathesan, capital world of the Cathesan Empire, was on fire. Cosmic rays of particle radiation beamed down on the hive cities below. Three cities covered the top half of the planet: layered constructions of rockcrete and adamantium; each layer consisted of thousands of residential and industrial blocks that formed massive manmade mountains capped by a crown of great spires that stretched thousands of kilometers towards the sky. Once, many, many centuries ago, the planet had been co
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Betrayed and exiled, Aethan Valorian, heir to the throne of the Cathesan Empire finds himself exiled on Kharon-IV, an inhospitable planet that holds many secrets beneath its shifting sands. Incarcerated in an industrial prison and forced to fight in arena matches, Aethan meets the volatile Bhal-Ghor, a gladiator who has been imprisoned for over two centuries. As secrets about the planet's past are unearthed, Aethan and Ghor must learn to set aside their differences and learn to trust one another in order to survive...assuming they don't kill each other first.
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This is the last chapter of the first volume. I'm starting on Volume 2 as soon as I'm finished with finals.
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He soared over the mountains, flying further North. The Stauros Highway unspooled like a black thread, cutting through the thick stands of pine trees. He soared over villages not much different from the one he’d left for Timberford; villages made of one and two-story wooden buildings with a well in the center. He should have been terrified - he’d never liked height even when climbing trees - but this felt freeing. To be weightless. To be unrestrained. To watch the world unfold before him, reveal
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The practitioner expected Barghast to stop when he reached the surface, but he didn’t. He kept running…or leaping…or whatever a lycan did when they half ran half leapt through the air, the world flying by them in a blur of dark colors. Though he knew the Okanavian would not drop him - those arms held him in a vice with no wiggle room - his body instinctively clung to the lycan. He had no idea what direction they were heading in and at the moment he didn’t care. He felt his chest
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Crowe blinked. The deafening, sickening grey fog was gone. He stood, breathing deeply, in sunlight. The air was clean, scented with a rich blend of ground aether and worn leather - the familiar scent that clung to Petras’s waistcoat. The light was blindingly golden, illuminating the porch. The change was so instantaneous, so profound, that a giddy, dizzying sense of confusion washed over him. The temple…the fall…it was all a nightmare. This is real. I’m home. I’
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The sun was sinking rapidly, turning the western sky a blood orange. Barghast, the Okanavian, led the way, his tail straight with purpose with Crowe,Cenya, Rake, and the cowering Tannhaus close behind. They were moments away from the time of the damned souls of Timberford to emerge from wherever it was they hid during the daylight hours. They pulled gas lamps from their bags and lit them. The front of the temple was dominated by a large archway that receded back into shadow. Cro
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The journey was agonizingly slow going. Cenya’s fierce determination was no match for the treacherous, uneven terrain of the woods. Still, for a crippled woman with only one leg, she maneuvered around her disabilities far better than Tannhaus. The scientist breathed like a wounded animal, stopping every several feet to clutch at his heaving, sweat-soaked sides. He glared resentfully at Crowe and Barghast, who watched him with matching frowns of disapproval. “I can hear what you’
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The late afternoon brought no comfort to Crowe. Instead, as the sun began its slow, inevitable slide toward the western ridge - the direction from which Barghast had departed - the waning light became a clock counting down to a total emotional collapse. The angry mob had departed, moving with the heavy tread of the lethargic, as if the sense of elevation had left them and now all that remained was exhaustion and shame. Crowe watched them go and the loneliness that swelled in his heart was a phys
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