The Rising Sun: Episode 1 (8 page)

Meanwhile, the
old man with the flowing beard who had just stared at Ion looked
downward, at the Naxim officer lying hidden on the ground beside
his feet.

“I think that
was him.”

“Did someone
just walk past?” The officer asked in a whisper. “Was it a boy with
messy red hair?”

The old man
nodded rigidly. “Yes. And he just went right by.”

The officer
snatched a Sparkler that lay by the side of the ground, drew
himself up, and spoke into a z-com held in his other hand:

“All units,
maintain position. The target is within vicinity. I repeat.
Maintain position. Stay where you are.”

Gowden turned
back, peering through the dark house. A large group of Rash-cons
lurked by the walls within the old man’s house. The old man they
had interrupted for this operation, seeking cover in his house, had
changed his mind about helping them when he learned that the target
they were after was a mystic.

Gowden repeated
the order, speaking with the z-com held close to his mouth. The boy
had no idea what he had just wandered into: Awaiting him, hiding
inside of every house in this village, was a team of Rash-cons. And
the poor mystic was carefreely strolling past the houses he saw
here, without a clue of what awaited him. When Gowden gave the
order, they would all leap out and take him by surprise. He didn’t
stand a chance.

Gowden
stealthily walked out of the house, scanning the vicinity beyond.
He found the boy at the far end of this line of houses,
disappearing into a restaurant that came by the right.

Smiling, Gowden
spoke into his z-com in a clear whisper. “All units, fall out in my
command. The mystic’s entered a restaurant. We have him cornered.
And we’re takin him down.”

__________

The large
restaurant had four lines of neatly laid tables, all of which were
empty. Ion took a seat in the middle of the large hall.

The only other
person here was the waiter, who shuffled over to Ion’s table upon
seeing him enter.

“I’ll have a
coffee.” Ion told the waiter.

The waiter gave
a nod and strode off, disappearing behind the counter.

Ion sat
straight and closed his eyes, giving himself a moment to relax
physically. He brought his attention to his inner world, so that
the world outside of him faded slowly…

He grew aware
of an unsettled turbulence in his own thoughts … his mind throbbed
with fear and anxiety.

He inhaled
slowly, feeling the cool night air stream into his lungs. He held
his breath for three counts, and then exhaled as slowly as he
could. He continued this process a few more times, holding his
breath longer each time. His mind shut itself from the outside
world, growing calmer with every breath count.

Slowly, the
inner rumbling slowly died down, replaced by an unrippled
silence.

Nothing to
worry about at all.
He convinced himself, as his anxieties
quietened.
I’m as safe as could be, right now.

With one final
breath, he slowly opened his eyes.

Surrounding
him, all of them aiming their black Sparklers at him, stood a giant
cluster of Rash- cons. The robots were spread all over the room,
looking ready to pounce upon him at a moment’s call. And sitting
opposite to him on the table, an easy smile on his face, was a man
with a Naxim badge stuck to his chest.

“Your move,
mystic?” said officer Gowden, tapping his Sparkler on the
table.

Ion’s gaze
slowly roamed over the entire room, before coming back to the Naxim
officer seated opposite to him on the table. The robots surrounding
him, standing spread over the room, numbered to more than
fifteen.

Four of them
stood by either side of the Naxim officer sitting opposite to him.
The waiter stood nervously at the back of the hall, watching with
widened eyes.

“You seemed a
little too engrossed to even notice us entering into the room.”
said the Naxim officer. “So we decided against disrupting you. Hope
you enjoyed your breathing…” He picked up his Sparkler from the
table. “because it’s gonna be your last.”

Ion held his
eyes with the officer, feeling no fear through the restored glow of
his inner calm.

“Now, any last
words?” said the Naxim officer, holding his Sparkler at dead aim
with Ion’s chest.

“Just not yet.”
replied Ion. Without warning, he threw both hands forward, and a
heat wave like disturbance erupted in the air in front. Known as a
smash
, this was one of the most common mystical fighting
devices. It was pure energy released into the outer world, meant to
send a heavy, smashing impact upon its target, hence the name. The
Naxim officer, his table, and the four robots around him were
tossed back as though hit by a crane. The room was filled with
flying entities for a frozen split second. A dozen heavy
thuds
came as the robots and the officer crashed over the
tables spread over the room, and the wall behind them.

Before the
Rash-cons behind him could react, Ion was airborne: he leapt
backwards gracefully, one free hand reaching for his sword. He had
drawn the blade before he landed amidst the pack of dozen robots
behind him, who turned to re focus their aims. Ion sent one
fleeting thought to his sword, and the next second it responded: it
was ablaze, shining in bright orange.

Before the
Rash-cons begun firing, Ion leapt forward, slashing three of them
to the ground before they’d even registered the motion. Then,
without turning, he sent three swift swipes of his sword to his
right, and then his left. The seven robots on either side of him
hit the floor, chopped up and lifeless.

As the
remaining five robots opened fire, Ion spun the sword at a violent
speed, blocking all the jets of blue sent at him. The dazzling
orange glow of his blade seemed to leave an unfaded imprint on the
air before him.

Ion then took a
step forward, and sent his sword through the entire batch in two
swift slashes. The five sliced bodies of the robots clattered to
the ground.

Another tirade
of blue shots came from his right: the Naxim officer and his fallen
robots were storming towards him from the other end of the hall,
all their guns blazing. Ion leapt out of the way of the shots,
taking a second’s cover behind one of the tables. One of the jets
of blue hit the table, which shattered and flew, spewing splinters
over the air.

He scrambled
over behind the nearing table, just missing one of the shots. As
the officer and the four Rash-cons came dashing at him, Ion hurled
a nearing chair at them. The group stopped and jumped out of the
way of the flying chair, which smashed into one of the robots too
slow to leap off the way.

Ion heaved the
table ahead of him with inhuman swiftness, and sent it flying over
the robots and the officer. This time all of them were too slow to
move, and the table landed over them with a loud crash, and an
audible groan from the officer.

Ion scrambled
to his feet and bolted to the door of the restaurant. Kicking the
door open, he emerged onto the village’s street. But his heart
stopped for the meanest moment: The street outside was filled with
an even larger force of Rash-cons. Four small one-man fighter ships
hovered over the air in front of him, their canons aimed at him.
The robots inside the fighters’ cockpits held their guns ready as
well. Two hover bikes floated a few feet by his right, with
Sparkler wielding Naxim officers over them.

At least fifty
pairs of guns lay aimed at Ion.

They’ve
brought an entire army…

Ion fought off
the wave of dread that came rushing up within him. For a breathless
moment, he slowly scanned the entire scene before him.

Then, without
warning, every gun in the street erupted, spraying him with jets of
light and canon bolts.

Ion channeled
his mind’s energy with brutal focus … And a shimmering, glass like
surface formed in the air ahead of him. The
shield
took the
impact of the enemy fire flooding him from all around, and Ion felt
it weaken rapidly. There weren’t a lot of choices: Severing his
mind’s energy flow, he let the shield die, and launched himself to
the right at the two Naxim officers on hover bikes. The first
officer was thrown off the bike as the weight of Ion’s body
collided with him. The second officer fell off his bike, groaning
in pain as Ion’s elbow rammed into his skull, hard.

Without waiting
another second, as the Rash-cons ran at him, and the fighter ships
swooped over towards him, Ion jumped onto one of the hover bikes,
took control, rose a few feet from the ground and then shot off
into the dark village.

__________

Officer Gowden
cursed to himself at what he’d just seen, as he ran outside the
restaurant.

You aren’t
getting away that easily, scum!

He ran over
towards the fallen hover bike ride. Shoving the man off the way, he
took hold of the bike and rose off the ground.

“You four,” he
called to the four fighter ships floating behind him. “follow
me.”

The bike zoomed
forward as he spun the throttle, and the four fighter ships came
tailing him closeby from behind. The boy was riding far ahead of
him, his outline growing slightly blurry as the distance between
them grew.

Relishing the
feeling of the wind splashing against his face, Gowden gave the
bike as much throttle as possible, and his bike slowly crawled
closer to the mystic’s. Twenty feet below him, the village’s stout
structures zipped backwards rapidly. The boy’s engine grew clear as
he steadily approached him from behind.

The four
fighter ships behind him edged closer to him from both sides, their
canon ready to rage.

Now less than
ten feet from the boy, Gowden drew his Sparkler with one hand, and
aimed.

__________

Ion’s bike gave
a sudden, shuddering jolt, and then begin to lose height.

A bright blue
jet of light whizzed past his side, and he whipped his head back to
see the Naxim officer along with four fighter jets, a few feet
behind him. One of their shots had apparently hit his bike.

He bent over
its side, only to have a spurt of black oil released onto his face
and his hair. The bike was damaged badly, and was losing height and
speed fast. He wiped the black oil off his eyes and turned to his
side: The Naxim officer’s bike sped forth beside him, and the man
raised a z-com towards Ion. A flash of light emitted.

Taking my
picture, huh? Enjoy it
. Ion thought.
That’s all you’re
getting of me.

With his bike
hit, soaring lower and slower, Ion breathed in, bracing himself. As
the Naxim officer reached for his Sparkler, Ion turned and dived
towards his bike. For a splintered second, the man’s eyes widened
as Ion came flying over towards him elegantly, and he raised his
Sparkler to re fix his aim over skyborne Ion…

But before he
pulled the trigger, Ion had crashed to the side of his bike,
clinging to it so not to fall off. The impact made the officer lose
balance: sliding off his seat with one hand gripping the side, the
man dangled dangerously off the side of the bike.

Ion climbed
over, waiting as the bike passed a large horse shed before knocking
the Naxim officer off the bike, and sending him to a safe landing
on one of the giant heaps of hay.

Two orbs of red
came sailing from behind him, just missing him. Ion glanced back as
the bike sped on. The fighter ships stuck to his tail, firing at
him relentlessly. One of the bright red canon bolts whizzed just
over his head. Ion used his powers, summoning the familiar rush of
energy from within, to make one of the ships steer off course: It
clashed into its neighbour, so that both of them lost control and
toppled to the ground.

The remaining
two ships slid forward by either side of his bike. Ion saw the
Rash-con driving the fighter to his right open the ship’s window to
aim a gun at him. Ion lifted his bike just in time from the line of
shot: the jet of blue that the robot released missed him and hit
the fighter on his left instead, shattering its side. The fighter’s
cockpit along with the robot driving it within set on fire, the
ship slipped off the air … landing on the village street below with
a resounding crash.

As the Rash-con
took aim at him again through the fighter’s window, Ion drew his
sword. The familiar dazzling flash lit the sky for a moment as he
ignited it. The blade’s orange shine reflected on the fighter
ship’s flawless metallic skin. As the Rash-con opened fire, Ion
split his attention so as to drive the bike and block the robot’s
shots at the same time.

The two of them
swept over the chilly night sky, fighting. Twenty feet below, the
rural sprawl of the village was coming to an end. The familiar
barren terrain, unblemished by buildings or structures, spread
forth beyond.

Time to end
this…