Birthrights - 1. Chapter 1

Lord Cyrus looked upon the empty street corner. It was almost pitch black, except for a small street lamp that cast a golden yellow glow upon small gray stone walkway below. There was neither a person nor vehicle insight and, except for the distant sound of gunfire and the occasional explosion, it was quite. He once again looked back down at his pocket watch. And once again a displeased look came across his face. He was told ten thirty by the messenger and ten thirty was when he showed up. His company, however, the man who had requested to speak to him, was now fifteen minutes late, and with every passing minute he grew more and more uneasy. ‘How long am I expected to wait here!?’ he thought. After all, the world was now a much more dangerous place than it was 24 hours ago and, at any moment, this area of the city could be marched upon and taken. Captain Kroswell knew this, yet still he insisted on meeting tonight. Anything that is left to be said surely could wait until they were safely out of the empire. But he had insisted in his letter that it could not, so here he was, a Lord, of all people, waiting on and empty street corner like a common thief.

The short muscular man returned the golden trinket to his waistcoat pocket and began pacing back and forth, thinking to himself, worrying about his friend, whose ridiculous request may put them both in extreme danger. Surely he wouldn’t have been captured, would he? He would know better than to go into any of the areas of the city that had been lost. His face was too well known and he would be apprehended immediately. And god only knows what the Voranians would do to him!

‘I don’t have time for this,’ he thought, as he once again pulled the watch from his coat. I should be heading to the airship docks and evacuating with the rest of the noblemen, not waiting around on some empty street corner for some fool of a man! Captain or not, this was absolutely absurd.

A jolt sent his attention to the sky as he heard a large explosion, now closer than before. He was certain now that the Voronian forces had made their way through the theatre district, which meant only one more blockade stood between them and him. With his patience and courage now drained, he grabbed his gloves from his pocket and quickly pulled them onto his thick hands. He retrieved his hat and cane from the spot on the ground where he had laid them earlier and began to make his way toward the airship docks. It wouldn’t be long before this entire area was overrun and the city was lost. He had no intentions of being here long enough to see it happen. He heard another loud boom and then saw a bright flash of light from the other direction he could now see in the distance a massive structure lined with tiny lights slowly making its way through the sky, away from the city.

“Dammit all! I told them I would return shortly, the damn fools!” he yelled to himself as he began hurrying down the street. He was just about to pass the light post when a voice came from behind him.

“Leaving already are we? I would have thought you a braver man than that, Morgan.” Lord Cyrus turned to see the face of his friend. Alas, it was tired and worn, but his eyes were still open and alive. He was dressed in an ornate white captain’s uniform with various medals and ribbons of achievements and rank. The sleeve, however, was not white, as it had now been stained to a bright crimson.

“My God, Luther, what in the bloody hell happened to your arm?” he asked. Rushing over to examine it further, it wasn’t until he was a few feet from him that he noticed a small bundle of blankets in his uninjured arm and what appeared to be a small child wrapped up in them. “W-What’s going on? Whose child is this?” But he got no answer. His comrade was already walking down the street towards the area where only a few moments ago bombs could be heard going off. It was the very area Lord Cyrus had been running from. “Are you mad? You can’t possibly be thinking of heading towards The gunfire!? you in no condition to fight! We need to leave now while we still have the chance!” But his words fell upon deaf ears as the captain continued still.

“I haven’t any time to explain just now, my friend, but I assure you, it is of the utmost importance that we hurry. Please trust me, Morgan.” Lord Cyrus had never seen such a sombre and worried look on his friend’s face before. In the twenty years he had know him, Luther had always been a very tall and proud man, the kind of person whose very presence could give you a sense of security, but that was not the same man who stood before him now. It seemed as though he had aged years in the few days since he had seen him last. And for all that had happened in those days, it may well have been years. The world was different now. Almora was no longer the safe and peaceful empire it had been.

“The rumours are true, aren’t they?” Without turning around, the captain stopped in his tracks and looked at the ground. He was silent for a few moments; more gunfire sounded, now only a few blocks away. If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn they were drums for some great parade. The Voronian forces were quickly blasting through the few remaining resistance fighters. Much more of this and they would be surrounding the two in a matter of minutes. They had to keep moving and they both knew it. After a long pause, Morgan once again heard his friend speak up.

“Yes, we failed, I failed... the Emperor is dead.” And with that he continued onward towards the drumming. “We need to make our way to the edge of the theatre district to meet an acquaintance of mine. We were travelling together when we were ambushed. We both managed to escape, but we got split up during the scuffle. I told him to meet me there.

“You can’t possible think he is still going to be there. You heard it for yourself; the theatre district is all but lost. I am sorry, Luther, but I don’t believe your friend made it. Now please listen to reason; we must turn back and evacuate.”

The two quickly turned down a darkened alley to get off the main road. When they came to the other end, the captain stuck his hand out to stop his friend as he leaned out to make sure the street was empty. They were now only two streets over from the auditorium, which separated the two districts. And still Lord Cyrus could hear the army growing ever closer. There was another loud boom as yet another explosion went off. Fire could now been seen billowing over the tops of the buildings on the far side of the street.

“That’s it. I’m terribly sorry, Luther, but I cannot continue. I have my wife to think about. And I can’t see what could be so important to throw your life away.” But before he had completed the sentence, his friend turned to give him a very stern look that obviously meant he wouldn’t hear any more arguments about it.

“You want to know what is so important? I’ll tell you, my friend. He is!” he said, motioning to the sleeping infant cradled in his arm. “He and his brother may be the last hope this empire will ever have of one day returning to normal.” And with that he unwrapped part of the blanket to reveal the child’s left hand which bore a small blue tattoo of a dragon wrapped around a sword. At the base of the blade where the hilt would meet, the dragon’s wings unfolded to reveal a glowing blue radiance, the sight of it caused the nobleman to go week at the knees.

“My god, Luther! You mean to tell me that this boy and his brother are the...” but he couldn’t bring himself to finish the statement and there was no reason to; the tattoo was all the proof needed. Only the royal line were given that insignia. It was inscribed upon them at birth so that all may know who they are. The very sight of it alone could rally the people and, up until now, it was believed the last of the royal family had been killed during the attack. “The people-”

“-must not know!” He was cut off by his friend, who wrapped the child back up and began to make his way across the road. “No one other than us three must know. If word were to ever get out that an heir, let alone two heirs survived, Voran would stop at nothing to ensure they die. As long as they live, then a threat to his rule still remains.”

“Then are we to simply do nothing? What good is it to the people if we do nothing!?'” Once again the two turned another corner into another alley. Before the captain could answer, the sound of a far off engine sounded. Luther handed the child to Morgan as he shoved them further into the alley so that they would be hidden by the shadows. From inside his white coat he withdrew a silver revolver and put his back to the opposite side of the alley. And there he remained, barely breathing, as the roar of the engine drew closer and closer. He looked to his friend as to silently relay the message that, should anything happen to him, he was to take the child and run.

Morgan held the child closely in his arms, only half able to believe that this was really a Prince of Almora and the true leader of its people. But for now, all he could do was pray that the child remained asleep and still.

The engine continued to grow until it was right upon them. In the last moments before its passing, Morgan closed his eyes, almost as if he believed that if he could not see them, it would somehow stop them from seeing him as well. Luther looked on as the metal truck passed the alleyway. He could feel the heat of the steam from its engine loft through the air, creating a small cloud in its wake. On the door he saw a large ornate design of a raven that had six beautifully coloured red wings, and its head pointed upward to the sky. Out of its beak, three golden serpents came twisting their way out and wrapped back and forth between the crimson wings. It was the symbol of Voran's special guard unit.

“It was them, wasn’t it? I saw it... that symbol. We must turn back it's hopeless they’ve already taken this area I’m sorry, but your friend is-”

“My friend is fine, Morgan, trust me,” Luther said, once again cutting him off mid sentence. He watched as the truck reached the end of the street and, after a moment’s pause, turned the corner and disappeared from view. He looked back and motioned for Morgan to bring the child and follow.

“What makes you so sure he hasn’t been captured?” Morgan asked, trying not to lose the child as he ran to keep up. They made their way to the final street that would lead them to the auditorium. There was a loud booming, whistling sound, as overhead a set of fast moving lights shot across the sky just over the rooftops. The voraciousness of the sound almost caused Morgan to stumble slightly, before regaining his composure. The motion was all the sleeping child could take and as Morgan continued, the Prince let out a long wailing cry.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, don’t cry.” Morgan tried his best to calm him, but it was a futile effort. He was far too upset by the noise around him to be pacified by an aging man’s less than soothing voice. Morgan began to pick up the pace when behind him a he heard what sounded like a large piece of metal being dropped freely on the ground. It landed with a loud THUMP!

“Now you listen and you listen closely. You’re gonna lay that baby down on the ground real gentle like and then you’re gonna turn around with you arms in the air. And if you do this with no funny business I ain’t gonna hafta shoot ya.” The voice was a booming deep, slow voice that sounded almost like he was trying to sooth someone. Not the tone you’d expect a man with a gun pointed at your back to take.

Morgan could feel himself trembling as he looked down at the crying child. He knew this man meant what he said, but he also knew he would never be able to forgive himself. He felt the cold steel barrel poke his back. This was it. This was how he was going to die. He closed his eyes and awaited his fate.

“Knock it off before you give him heart attack.” Morgan opened his eyes to see Luther looking over his shoulder at his executioner.

“God Damn Luther what happen to your arm?"the voice spoke again.

“Took a bullet a few minutes after we were split up. Luckily, the child was in the other arm. It’s good to see you safe and well, Thatcher.”

Morgan, feeling his heart rate return to normal, turned to see the gunman and the sight caused him to fall on his ass with the child still in hand. The man must have been close to eight and a half feet tall and had the muscles to go with it. He was a massive dark-skinned man dressed in a long tan leather trench coat. On top of his bald head was a pair of thick rimmed aviator goggles, resting just above his eyes, which despite his size, he gave a true sense of gentleness.

“You may want to watch your step there. After all, you are carrying precious cargo, are you not?” The man stuck out what Morgan recognized as a massive 5 foot wrench the sheer size and girth of the thing must make it weigh a ton, yet this man held it out for him as if it weighed nothing at all.

“A wrench!?” Morgan shouted in bewilderment, “You held me hostage with a wrench?” he grabbed a hold of the end of it as the man pulled him to his feet with the greatest of ease.

“Trust me, it’s just as dangerous as any gun you’ll find out there,” Thatcher said, as he slid the giant tool into what looked like a giant leather tool belt he had strapped across his back. The sight reminded Morgan of a noble knight sheathing his sword, like in the stories his father read to him as a child.

“Morgan, this is Thatcher. He’s and old friend of mine; he served with me in the Royal Sky Navy.”

“You were a solider?” Morgan asked, thinking that he’d feel sorry for whatever poor unfortunate souls ever crossed this man’s path on the battle field.

“Nope, afraid not. I was the ship’s Mechanic. I kept that thing running like clockwork for years,” he said as he stuck out his hand to shake his, but the sight caused Morgan to once again tremble

“Dear god, Man, your Arm!” he had kept it hidden, but now it was as clear as day. His arm was completely mechanical. Instead of normal human flesh it was a giant bronze appendage that had three massive fingers on it, each almost three times the size of a normal man’s and a thumb to match them. Thatcher had a scowl of annoyance come across his face

“Charmed, I’m sure,” he said, with an obvious sarcastic tone, as he swiftly withdrew his hand. Given the situation Morgan felt obligated to rectify his reaction.

“Terribly sorry, it’s just I’ve never seen an actual Mech before, just in pictures and it just kinda caught me off guard is all.”

“You’ll have to forgive my little modification we had a bad run in with some pirates a few years back, they blew up the engine to our ship. Unfortunately, I was doing repairs that day.”

“Well, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, we really should be going,” Luther said looking down at his watch. “Thatcher, I trust that the child is safe?”

“Barely made a peep the entire time,” he said as he opened up his coat to reveal a small infant asleep in the inside coat pocket, his tiny head poking above the hem line. Morgan’s eyes doubled in size; he could not believe what he was seeing.

“Are you completely out of your mind? He’s a damn prince! And you would carry him around in your pocket like he was some kind of trinket? He could have suffocated, you ignorant fool!” Morgan ran up to remove the boy, but before he even got close, he was met by Thatcher's massive iron hand grabbing his shoulder and stopping him dead in his tracks.

“You listen here, little man, ain’t no place safer for him than right where he’s at and he’s gonna stay with me until Luther says otherwise.”

“Actually, it is best this way. No matter what happens, we can’t risk losing both of them, which is why I brought you two here.” Luther looked back and forth from one friend two the other. “Morgan, Thatcher and I will escort you to the air docks. From there I need you to take the prince and leave for Evalin. It’s the safest place I can think of for him and the furthest from Voran's reach. Thatcher will remain here with the other.”

“You mean to separate them?” Morgan could barely believe what his friend was suggesting. The thought of separating the two, especially at a time when the people needed them most, was insanity.

“Only until they’re old enough to come back and claim the throne. Only then can they demand a council with the other kings and demand their birthright. The council will have no choice but to force Voran out. But even as we speak, I can guarantee you that he’s already demanding every twin in this city be slaughtered, which is why we must separate them until the day when they can undo what’s happened here.” Without saying anything else, Luther began making his way back down the street. He knew that his friends could no longer argue the point. It was what had to be done.

The three now travelled quickly to the edge of the street and, once again, into an alley. Luther had hoped that the same path there would be safe to use going back, but he felt uneasy. He had no way of knowing for sure how many patrol vehicles were out. So all he could do was trust his gut instinct. They were stopped at the end of the alley when another set of lights came past them; it was the same truck from earlier, but luckily, they dodged the bullet once again and it continued onward.

Another loud boom was heard in the distance as another massive object was launched into the sky. “We need to hurry,” Morgan whispered, “I don’t know how many ships are left to launch, most of them were already out when the assault began and I doubt that they came back to help.”

As they left the alley, Thatcher looked over head to see another set of fast moving lights head in the direction if the ship. ”Oh no...” He knew those lights well; he had seen them many times before in his travels. “Stop! We need to turn back now!” he screamed, rushing to grab Luther by the collar of his jacket.

“What is wrong with you? Pull yourself together!” Morgan was yelling as Thatcher tried his best to block them from going any further, but right as the last words left his mouth, the loudest explosion yet sounded off and the sky was illumined in a bright red radiance. It was as if the city itself had been bathed in light; the shock wave was enough to knock the three of them down. They looked on as the recently launched ship began to slowly descend into the ground as a massive inferno engulfed it.

The sound of breaking metal could be heard for miles as it made contact with the earth below. The three of them covered their ears as the grinding metal sound blasted in the air around them. As it hit the ground beneath them it began to rumble. Some of the glass from the buildings around them shattered into thousands of pieces and the street lamps flickered rapidly until they finally went out completely. The streets were dark now and all became quiet. It was as if the crash had crested a momentary cease fire among the two warring peoples. All was quiet... except for the two crying babies, who were now completely wide awake.

The three men had become so entranced with the sight of the airship that they had not noticed the three patrol vehicles that had turned onto the street. It wasn’t until the sirens sounded that their attention was turned to their own dire situation.

“By Order of Emperor Voran, you are to be taken in for questioning. If you resist, we will open fire!” At the far end of the street they could see three trucks, each with a gun turret mounted on top, all of which were pointed at them. Morgan felt his legs become weak and his breath turn to ice as fear took over every fibre of his being. He closed his eyes and imagined himself in a far off safe place it was the only thing he could do to keep from running right there.

With his eyes still closed, he felt a small object being shoved into his free arm he opened them to see the other tiny prince now crying next to his brother. He looked at Thatcher, who had almost as petrified a look on his face as Morgan had on his own. It was strange to see such a massive man look like a scared child.

“Take ‘em and hide! I’ll take care of the guards.” Morgan stood there for a moment completely frozen in place by fear; his mind was screaming at his legs to move, but no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t move.

“GO!” He heard Thatcher’s loud booming voice snap him out of his momentary paralysis. And without giving it a second though he bolted back for the alley.

The minute he got off the street, he heard the gunfire begin whizzing behind his head. He ducked down and turned to see the fate of the two... but what he saw surprised him to no end! Extending out of Thatcher’s mechanical arm were two large curved sheets of iron that curved in such a way that it made a perfect full body shield for both him and Luther, who was ducked behind it, shooting out every few seconds.

The engine of the trucks began to roar as the three vehicles began to rapidly speed towards them. Bracing himself for the first truck, Thatcher adjusted his footing, almost as if he were going to intercept the full impact. He withdrew the massive wrench from the makeshift holster and waited for the exact right moment. Thatcher became completely fixated on the distance between himself and the closest truck and from that truck to the others, which were only but a few feet behind it. Luther, understanding that he may very well be doing more harm than good, ducked out of the way and onto the stoop of a tall brick building. But Thatcher stood his ground, steadfastly awaiting his opponents’ arrival. A few more bullets were shot, but they might as well have been mosquitoes to him, as the bullets just bounced and deflected away.

Morgan couldn’t watch as the truck came within a few feet of its target. ‘He’s a damn fool!’ he thought to himself. And finally it came, the moment of impact. It was if time had slowed down, but what happened was almost beyond comprehension. When the vehicle was not more than a foot away, Thatcher spun to the right and out of its way. As the front end of it passed him, he brought the giant tool down with such power and ferocity the metal it was made from just seemed to buckle... the truck itself folded almost perfectly in half. With no hesitation, Thatcher turned once more and hurled his weapon over his shoulder and through the air, as if it were a hammer. It spun end over end about three times, but continued to fly dead straight for the head of the gunman of the second truck and, sure enough, it hit its target perfectly with the heavier end knocking the man unconscious. His body went limp as he slung over his gun, causing it to fire off at the trailing truck. Several bullets riddled the side and the tires before the now dead-weight gunman fell from his perch and landing in the middle of the road. It was only a matter of seconds before the driver of the last patrol truck lost control and began spinning violently and finally flipping over completely. Upside down, it skidded a few yards past where Thatcher was standing. Distracted by what had happened, the remaining driver swerved out of the way of the attacker and came to a stop only a foot or two from where Luther had hidden himself. Without hesitation, Luther sprung into action, pointing his revolver at the driver.

“Out! Now or I’ll shoot!” he yelled as he yanked open the door. The driver stepped out and put his hands to his head. Luther stood there, a puzzled look across his face, as if he was silently debating with himself. He final he spoke up again, “I am sorry. May you find peace in whatever awaits you beyond.” And without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the trigger and shot the driver square in the forehead.

“What the hell are ya doin’? He wasn’t a threat!” Thatcher said as he rushed to the now dead body, crumpled up on the ground.

“It had to be done. He had seen you and, sure enough, if we let him live, word would get back to Voran. And you can’t have the guards after you.” Leaning down to close the eyes of Luther's victim, Thatcher let out a loud sigh. He hated unnecessary killing, but he knew his friend was right. It had to be done. “We haven’t got much time; the final ship will be launching soon.”

“You can’t be serious!” Morgan spoke up as he emerged from the shadows where he had been hiding. “You saw what became of the last ship that tried to launch, or have you forgotten already?”

“That’s why I’m going to time my launch of the Vulcan with that of the last ship. Given the choice between a civilian ship and a military ship, they’ll have no choice but to come after me.”

“What? That’s suicidal! As grand a war ship as the Vulcan is, it’ll be no match for their bombers.” It was Thatcher who had spoken up. Now he knew what Luther was planning and he would have no part of his friend’s death.

“And if it is suicide, I can think of no better way to die than ensuring the survival of our nation. It’s what I worked and lived for almost my entire life now. If this is the only way our plan will work, then so be it. We don’t have time to argue the matter. And with that, the captain headed over to the truck and climbed in.

Once they were on the road, Thatcher began looking at the now mostly destroyed buildings of what was once the beautiful city of Almora. Places he had grown up seeing, now in ruins. Towards the centre of the city he saw the once grand castle, its south wall now completely destroyed. A little way from it he saw the Capital Building. Voronian soldiers had already torn down the Almora flag and replaced it with their own. The sight brought a heaviness to his heart, which formed a lump in his throat.

It was a few minutes before they finally reached the docks. People were panicking and running in all directions. Morgan saw a few people arguing with a receptionist about them not being able to bring their luggage on board. They were truly trying to cram as many people as possible onto the ships.

The three men gathered outside of the boarding line, just standing there, not sure of what to say to each other, when finally it was Luther who spoke up. “We’re the only three who know of this, who know of their existence, and it must, at all cost, remain that way. As long as Voran believes them to be dead, we have the advantage. They must not know, either. It would be too risky... not until they’re old enough to lead their people.” Another explosion sounded off as the Voronian army was now advancing on the docks, the last remaining part of the city. The Resistance had all but been defeated and the people knew it. Voran had won and Almora now belonged to him. With their forces added to his own, it wouldn’t be long before he soon set his sights to yet another kingdom. “I asked you two because you are my most trusted friends and the only ones I know who could keep them safe until the day comes.” Neither of the two of them spoke, both too humbled by the amount of trust he had placed in them. And with that being said, they all knew it was time for them to part ways.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Thatcher. Until we meet again...” Morgan said, as he stuck out his hand. At which Thatcher gave a slight smile and engulfed Morgan’s tiny hand in his over sized iron palm.

“Until then,” he said. The three men left in different directions, Thatcher and Morgan each with a small child cradled in their arms.

Thatcher stood at the observation deck, looking to the sky. As the two ships were launched, there was a panic as the last ship departed, leaving the remaining citizens to endure the new king’s rule. But Thatcher was oblivious to it all as he saw Luther’s grand warship take off in the opposite direction of Morgan and the Prince. And sure enough, only moments after his take off, the smaller bomber planes left the attention of the transport vessel and swarmed the bigger prize. The ship held its own for quite some time, but Thatcher’s heart gave a sickening jolt. The right engine blew and the ship, like the one before it, came down in flames. Hot tears formed in his eyes and began to stain his cheeks... as Luther succeeded in his final mission.

“Goodbye my friend.”

His attention was then drawn down to the now crying baby. It was almost morning and he was sure he would be hungry. “Now don’t you go carrying on like that. You’re gonna be a great leader one day and that’s no way for a leader to be acting.”

And with that, the man and child disappeared into the panicking crowd.