Excerpts from "The Eternal Defenders"
The Eternal Defenders is a trilogy I wrote between 1998 and 2000 about a group of magic-imbued teenagers who must save the world from a series of enemies. Its really more than that, but its as good and simple a description of the story as I have. Admittedly, its a little cheesy looking back on it, but what teen-rated fiction isn't at least a little cheesy?
Grace is Summoned
The Malinai's Decision
Legends
The Arguement
Grace is Summoned
This is the first chapter from TED:UIH, as you can see. Here, the mysterious Guardian has sent an official messenger to the Sicca residence for Grace. Only she and her mother, Juta, are at home to receive the news and the mood is definately fearful as the Guardian has "stolen" away both Juta's husband, Lazro, and her son, Sigro, in similar messages. This letter sets the ball rolling...
Chapter One
The afternoon was scorching, but sweet as Grace opened her front door. She entered the main room with a slight limp, the effect of a particularly rough practice session. Her mother, Juta, was staring in stunned silence at the forbidding figure standing the corner of the room, next to the
door. Clad in shiny white trousers and am iridescent yellow jacket, he was very tall and wore a vented white mask. Grace frowned, he was obviously amongst the highest ranking Messengers, indicated by his colors. Only to announce the death of a serviceman of the Guardian had Grace ever seen such a high Royal Messenger in public in uniform.
"Grace Sicca?" He asked, his voice thin and tinny through the mask.
She set her bag in the chair and nodded,"I am Grace."
The Royal Messenger withdrew a creamy white envelope and held it out to her. She reached for it cautiously, as if it might burn her fingers on contact. His arm moved mechanically back to his side.
"The information you will need is enclosed,"he bowed briskly,"Goodday." Slowly he departed, heavy yellow boots clanking heavily on their stone pathway.
"Juta, could it be...news of Lazro?" She clasped the letter to her chest.
Her mother shook her head. "No daughter. Reports on your father would come directly
to my name. Sigro's goes to Linta."
"Then what is it? Do I open it, or no?"
Juta ran her fingers through her hair,"Is there a date on the back of that envelope,
daughter?" Grace turned the letter over and read the tiny, embossed gold letters. The 23 Day of
Senala. ***(note...that makes it October 10th)***
Sighing, Juta nodded,"You must open it Grace, you have no choice. Aye, but I fear that
Witch, the Guardian, holds only ill tidings for you. O how I shudder to contemplate the horrors
she had indeed dreamt for you." Juta flung her arms across her forehead,"First she stole my
husband away and into her dreadful army, then my sweet son. Now she takes my daughter! What
is left? She will take my very liberty as well!"
Her mother's dramatics did little to settle her nerves. She sat on the nearest chair and ran
her fingers across the seal. So delicate, beautiful. Grace thought that it belied the danger that might
come of whatever news was within the pages of this letter. She remembered the day Sigro had
been called to duty. It was not hard to imagine a similar fate for herself. Her father, Lazro, had
been recruited just after Grace's birth, but the duties were well suited to him, and though he was
rarely able to return to his family, when he did he was the kindest, most doting father Grace could
imagine. Her brother, Sigro, had been snatched away recently, just a few months after his
marriage to Linta. He was absent at the birth of his daughter, Jatuce; but he'd had no choice. Both
Linta and Juta blamed and hated the Guardian for taking their men away. Yet both Sigro and
Lazro had been successful in their endeavors. Lazro was famed for bringing much vital information
to the Guardian's troops from distant colonies. Sigro had taken an extensive education, via the
generosity of the Guardian. He had possessed a strong mind from infancy and now led the field in
Preservation. Grace, however, was not blessed with the brilliant genius of her brother, nor with
the talent for espionage of her father. Her only skill was worthless to a being as powerful as the
Guardian.
Though a petite young woman, Grace was mighty. Her mother's lineage had provided her
with not only the genetic capacity, but with a proficiency in sorcery. She carried with her an
heirloom locket that had been inscribed with the initials of every woman in her mother's line since
the First Generation. Along with the locket she'd, inherited a small silver wand with a
dove-shaped stone on the tip. The wand was rumored to magnify the spells already at Grace's
command. She was more apt to simply tucking the wand into her bag and performing the craft
without aid.
Inside the envelope was a Tri-folded piece of paper. She opened it, her eyes squeezed
shut, hoping the news was not bad. The letter lay open in her hands. Slowly she drew a deep
breath and opened her eyes. She glanced at the writing, it looked harmless enough. Her mother
nodded at her from across the room, keeping her distance from the cursed scrawl of the
Guardian.
"Aloud, my dear. I will learn of your fate as you do. Pray, be strong. The Guardian
thrives on weakness."
"Grace Sicca. Thank you for receiving this correspondence. The Guardian has granted
you an audience, on the 10th Day of May. Please be prompt and properly attired. Do not fail to
appear as the punishment for such an insult is death. Should you not receive this letter a full seven
days prior to your meeting, you will not be executed. Again, She thanks you."
"Signed by whom?" Juta demanded, rising from her seat.
"But- There is no mention of-"
"The signature! Whose is it!"
"It is signed, Sincerely, the Chief Royal Scribe of Her Majesty, The Guardian."
Falling back into her chair, Juta moaned,"And not by her own hand? She did not even
sign your life away with her own hand? You are doomed, my poor poor child." Juta's eyes
scanned the back of the paper as Grace reread the vague words. "And that? There! That
scribble, what of that?"
Grace flipped the paper over,"I-its a note to me. From...Gaea."
"What does it say?" Juta scrambled across the floor and clung to her daughter's arm.
"Grace. Hello. I've heard a lot about you. I am quite relieved to have located you so
easily. I look forward to meeting you. I only regret that we cannot meet sooner. Damned
protocol, damned security. Until then...Gaea."
"Who is this Gaea?" Juta grabbed the letter and squinted at it, her poor eyesight growing
continually worse.
Smiling with relief, Grace looked at her mother,"I believe that Gaea is the Guardian."
Juta's stern face broke into a tearful grin,"O my daughter, my Grace. Perhaps you are not
doomed after all. Gaea, in all her wisdom has chosen you for a special duty. Her unfathomable
greatness had decided that you are worth of...something. It will be-" She stopped. Her eyes grew
wide and her mouth dropped open.
"What? What is it?"
Her mother snatched her handbag from the table. "O Grace, this is terrible, horrible,
just,"she shuddered,"bad." Juta dashed about the room gathering her things.
"Juta!" Grace grabbed her frenzied mother,"What is so horrible?"
Juta's panic dissolved into a sly smile,"You have nothing to wear."
Dropping her mother's arm, Grace slunk into the nearest chair. "I won't go."
"Under penalty of death or no, dear Grace, you will go. You will accept her offer and you
will have a sound future in Gaea's loving service."
Grace looked at her mother sharply. "I only meant that I won't go shopping with you."
Laughing, Juta pranced about the room like a child. "Then I shall find you a suitable dress.
Good-bye my daughter!" She kissed Grace's cheek and danced out the door, giggling and
overcome with relief.
Grace frowned, her mother's perspective was as changeable and unpredictable as the
Autumn wind. As the Guardian, she was an evil woman set to destroy her own people. But when
addressed as Gaea, she was a benevolent Queen of indescribable enlightenment. Grace bit her
lower lip, she'd never really considered the Guardian as anything but someone to avoid, or even
fear. Now she was to appear before this legendary ruler and await a decision that would decide
the rest of her life, and perhaps her death. A single tear trickled slowly from her eye and for once,
she neither wiped it away nor tried to hide it.
The Malinai's Decision
This is the 34th Chapter of TED: UIH. Here, Malinai Mars and her husband, Saul, must choose between two scenarios. Freedom for themselves and death for their subjects, or an eternity under the thumb of a dictator and survival for the few of their race that remain...
Low voices murmured deep within the Palace Kenedias. Malinai Mars swept her long
hair back, having brushed it out of its normal position, a thick braid extending across her head,
and down the left side of her body. Saul stroked the soft waves absentmindedly, his eyes straying
around their chambers.
“My love, do you remember the place where we met those young women, on Earth?”
Saul asked reaching down to remove his boots.
“Yes, Saul,”Mars replied, fluffing her bangs. She turned from the mirror,”Why?”
He kept his eyes upon his task, the knots were complicated,”It was beautiful, was it not?”
“Yes. It did remind me of the mountain valley we created to abide in.” She again faced
the mirror, removing her earrings gingerly and placing them in a small elaborately carved wooden
casket. “Are you homesick, husband?”
Saul nodded vaguely, moving from the main room into a washroom. Over the sound of
running water he spoke. “I suppose I am. I would like to revisit that place.”
“Oh Saul, it is not the same home we left. Even as we speak the terrible quakes rip apart
the surface and our volcanoes erupt incessantly.”
"That is not what I meant.”
Mars continued to brush her hair, awaiting his elaboration. A moment later he emerged
from the bathroom, a robe around his body. Mars wound her long hair into a twisted roll at the
nape of her neck and fastened it with a red ribbon. She turned off her vanity light and crossed the
room a thin, maroon robe flowing behind her. She climbed into bed beside Saul and leaned her
head against his shoulder. He reached over, turning off the lights. In the darkness, their weapons
gleamed, hanging on the opposite wall.
“Saul,”Mars whispered, her voice low and soft,”What did you mean?”
He hesitated before answering. “Jupiter hasn’t the terrain that I appriciate.”
“Yes. Iren and his bride were poorly advised in the fine art of terrain formation.”
“Perhaps they enjoy such a vastly limited topographic land. Do you recall the Giddile
Campgrounds. Just beyond the reaches of Kryss, they were-” Mars silenced her husband with a
finger over his lips.
“Let’s not think about our past home, we’ll never go back.”
“But the wooded hill, behind the river, on Gaea’s terrene, reminded me of that place. I
want to see it again.”
Mars considered, dropping her voice still lower,”Iren would never allow it.”
“Iren is not our leader.”
“He is though, if we try to escape his grasp, what will happen to the few remaining
Martians? He will slaughter them.”
“There are only four or five clans left, all small in number. We can take them with us.”
“Gaea would forbid our presence on her planet.”
“We would not interact with her beings. Few abide in the forest, and those who do we
can avoid. Please, my love, consider my wishes. I realize that yours is the final word, but I believe
we can be happier elsewhere. Away from Iren.”
Saul nodded as Mars considered his request briefly.
“I don’t mind helping Iren, if it will end with our world restored.”
“And if Merkus fails?”
“I have faith in the fuzzy-one.”
“Malinai Mars, if we leave, to live on Earth, and Merkus does create this Genesis sphere,
our planet will be restored as the others are revived, and we can return home.”
Mars considered. “Saul. Your arguements are convincing. Yet I fear Iren’s wrath. He will
only unleash more attacks on the third planet if were are there. Can we justify helping Gaea
defend her planet?”
“Our own survival.”
“Yes,”Mars nodded, “We can leave Jupiter, and live on the planet Earth. We will depart
tomorrow, stealing away in the night... We cannot take our people.”
“They are happy here.”
Mars closed her eyes. “For now.”
“Forever.”
Legends
This is the legend from T.E.D. II; Khyros. It is, obviously, the forth chapter. Just before this, the Defenders, Bati, Merkus and Tristan have gathered around a chair where Humin Gaea sits to read a painfully relevant (if a bit inaccurate) legend from an old textbook...
Chapter Four
“Time began when Chaos united with Life. The reign of nothingness and everythingness ended. Chaos fathered several children by Life, and one of their lovely daughters was Caliua, or Fate, who bore two children by Chaos; a pair of twins named Earthia an
Khyron. Earthia was born first. The labor was long, but less than painful. Finally, the daughter emerged, peacefully. It would be many days before the second twin arrived. Caliua was happy with her little girl, Chaos too was beguiled by the child’s beau
and charm. He named the infant Earthia, meaning Beauteous Love. Khyron was less popular with both. As he came into the world, screaming and fighting, Caliua expired. Chaos was enraged at the death of his youngest, most beloved daughter, and ordered the
ale infant cast into the Posiola Rive after naming him Khyron, or Evil War-Maker. Earthia grew, nutured by her grandmother, Life. Her powers controlled Love and Beauty. She worked diligently to presever those traits among her people. Earthia was the mos
loved Goddess, worshipped far and wide.
“Khyron, however, did not die so easily. The young God was discovered near the shore where the Posiola, or Dead, River met Terrestrial waters. A mortal maiden discovered the crying babe as she bathed and picked him up to comfort away his tears. When he
villiage discovered that she had a child, but no husband, she too was outcast, a pariah to her friends and family. No amount of explanation could change their minds and the woman, Spiso, resigned herself to care for this bad-luck charm. She came to call
hyron, whose name she could not know, Khyvan, which equated to Evil Young Boy. They traveled together for a year, Spiso feeling increasing bitterness toward the baby who had caused her ruin. Each village they arrived in gave to them a similar reaction.
t first they were welcomed as guests, but soon questions were raised. ‘Where is the baby’s father?’ ‘Why have you left your villiage?’ Spiso could not answer with the truth, but no lie was good enough for them. She was reviled as a demon everywhere she
ent. Eventually, ill from poor weather and lack of victuals, Spiso tied the toddler to a sapling and left him for the wild beasts of the forest.
“Khyron fought violently with the tree, shaking it constantly for a week, screaming for Spiso’s return, or for help from any caring soul. The anger and resentment that was concieved inside the heart of this tiny boy flowed from his body into the tree a
the leaves began to shake of their own accord, as if trying to free themselves from Khyron’s hate. To the present day this species of tree has leaves that never cease their struggling for release from the limbs. Khyron, however, was indeed immortal, a
the elements that would cause death by exposure for the mortals only served to incense him more. Finally, after months of fighting his bindings, a friendly woodsman from a distant village stumbled upon him. The man freed the boy and carried him all the
ay back to his home. The very people who had reviled Spiso for caring enough about a strange child to claim it as her own embraced this child as a ward of the village. Khyron was soon able to speak and the village’s pet name for him, Little Warrior, or
ran, was given up as he told them of his real name. Khyron remembered little of his origins, and as he aged he dared not tell his foster family of his identity for fear of exhile. When Khyron was two years old a heavy plague tore through the village, ki
ing one third of its inhabitants. His third birthday brought an attack from a neighboring tribe. For this fifth year his hosts recieved a drought that lasted until Khyron was nine. On the day of his ninth birthday a sickly drifter stumbled into their v
lage, desperate for food and clothing. The woman collapsed and lay on the verge of death for many days. Finally she was revived and sat up in bed to thank those who had cared for her during her illness. When Khyron stood next to her and tried to feed he
broth from a wooden bowl the woman began to sob hysterically and the hostess attempted to calm her. The woman revealed herself to be Spiso, and screamed insanely at the young boy for ruining her life, killing her soul, and warned the townspeople that he
as bad luck, bringing only evil tidings. Her death throes were more curses upon Khyron, whom she still referred to as Khyvan. The village vuried her body deep in the woods, away from their own burial grounds so that her mental sickness could not reach t
ir dead. Thanks to Spiso, Khyron was again exhiled. Blaming all of the deaths, illnesses, and unfortunatle occurances that had happened since his arrival upon him, the village people sent a nine year old boy into the wilderness with nothing more than th
clothes on his back and his fury to feed upon.
“Khyron spent nine years traversing the countryside, bringing with him evil, war, hate, and death. He was a most unpopular travelor and became infamous as ‘The Jinx’. Just before his eighteenth birthday Khyron made a life-altering decison. He created a
turdy raft, and having tested his immortality often over the years, set off to sail up the Opo River until it merged with the Posiola and then up that as well. He arrived at the source of the river on the day of his eighteenth birthday. There was a grea
celebration in the Divine land. He crossed the Lake Yulae, Eternal, tainting its purity with the murky waters from the Posiola. As Khyron slipped into the crowd his tattered black garb contrasting the bright, soft colors of his peers’ costumes, he felt
lf-conscious for the first time in his life. The throng of immortals parted and Khyron gazed ahead. Laughing with the voice of a songbird stood a female whose features matched his own. At her side was a powerful young Divine, standing nearby were Chaos
d Life, proudly preparing to marry off their beloved Earthia.
“Khyron made his presence known to those who stood upon the stage. Earthia was surprised to see him, but rushed from her fiancee’s side to embrace him tightly. She stunned him by calling him her ‘dear brother’ and kissing his soiled cheek fondly. Khyro
was confused. Such a greeting was unheard of in his life. Earthia dragged him onto the stage and announced to their fellow immortals that finally her handsome brother had returned to her side. She was happy, smiling, glowing with love and beauty. Khyron
neered, attempting a grin. Chaos was not thrilled to have his son restored to him, but in order to please his precious Earthia he granted Khyron control of the powers he’d been born into, War and Death. Khyron graciously accepted the gift, glaring at hi
twin as she married her lover, Abeitate. Her reputation had not missed him in the mortal world. She was loved everywhere and was, essentially, perfect. Khyron hated her with every breath he took.
“His hatred was a volcano. It built up slowly, rising in temperature on its way to a devastating explosion. With each day Earthia seemed to grow more beautiful more wonderful, and Khyron found himself wading through the disgusting mess of putrid, sinfu
souls and bloody warfare. Although he found a woman whom he felt strongly for, Aya, bitterness continued to well up inside his heart, and as their nineteeth year approached an evil scheme hatched within Khyron’s brain. He believed that because they were
win they were linked via their immortal souls. Khyron figured that he could steal all of Earthia’s charm and her powers by simply killing her. By absorbing her power he would become the strongest immortal, ruler of everything. Finally, extracting reveng
for being outcast from the Divinity so long ago.
“On the eve of their nineteeth birthday Khyron invited his sister, who was near the end of her first pregnancy, and Abeitate, to a private supper at his palace near the source of the Posiola. He and Aya were gracious hosts and Abeitate and Earthia enjo
d the sumptuous meal. Yet, in the wee hours of the next morning, both began to experience horrible cramps and Chaos was summoned. The posion’s effects were irreversible, and because it had been administered by a fellow immortal, Earthia and Abeitate die
that morning. Chaos left Life with their bodies and immediately sought out Khyron. Without a trial, or any witnesses, he dragged his son from his bed and ripped away his immortality with the supreme power that only He possessed. Aya begged to join Khyro
swearing that she could not bear to live without him, but she was forced to live with her sister, Ara, where the two would raise the infant saved from Earthia’s womb. The child was known as Kaiami.”
The Argument
The following is an excerpt from The Eternal Defenders II : Khyros, written in 1998. Here, following a string of mistakes that threaten to ruin his plans (and his sanity), Khyros is confronted by Mosos Kavya, his fianceé - which only adds to the chain of impending doom that he faces...
General Khyros, or as his newly adopted surname indicated, Emperor-General Khyros D’Khyron, sat at his cluttered desk staring blankly at a mass of reports from various staffers
concerning everything from the identification, or lack thereof, of the alien escapees, to the progress of the deckwide effort to beautify the community.
Nothing worried him, except for the two things that had been nagging him for days now; the Eternal Defenders, and the still absent Agents Lian Kio and Mosos Karena. Kavya would be
getting suspicious, seeing as he’d avoided her deftly for over a week. Khyros rubbed his temples, trying to drown out the headache with loud, digital music.
Suddenly the noise ended and Khyros jerked his head up.
“General?” Nadia appeared on the screen atop his desk.
“What is it?”
“Agent Mosos Kavya is here to see you.”
Khyros buried his pounding skull in his hands. Dozens of painkillers had yet to diminish the agony in his brain and the look of venom and Kavya’s face suggest that the pain had just begun.
“Send her away.”
“With pleasure.”
Kavya listened with impatient fury at the anteroom door. Khyros couldn’t hear her screams through the thick metallic walls, but he had a perfect view as she whipped out a distinctive arrow and cocked her Elite Force issued crossbow.
The explosion was deafening as her arrow pierced Nadia’s fiber optic eye.
“What kind of arrow was that?” Khyros asked,”Is it legal for her to carry it off duty?”
Nadia clicked over to the main console,”Hollow ceramic, steel tipped, filled with-”
“An Ironai? I know that isn’t legal off-duty!”
“Yes, General.”
Khyros blinked,”She’s serious.”
Nadia was silent as she shifted much of her running attention to fixing her viewer.
She must have seen through my lies, Khyros thought, still reeling from the blast.
“Nadia, give her admittance.”
“Yes General,”she replied absently.
“But- Nadia, see that she leaves all weapon in the anteroom.”
Nadia flickered away.
Moments later Agent Mosos stormed in, dangerous lightening burning in her eyes. Khyros
rubbed his temples as she approached.
“Where is my sister?”
“I told you Agent Mosos-”
“Don’t give that line again! She hasn’t returned to her chambers since that night! Tell me
now,”she grabbed him by the collar,”Or answer to my rage!”
“Kavya, wait. We’re searching for her. Crews are traversing the galaxy, the homeland, even the ship. We’ll find her.”
She chuckled,”I know.”
“What?”
“I know. Oh dear Khy, did I frighten you? How could you honestly believe that I, head of security for the Posiola, not have realized what was going on. There never was a scouting mission in that sector, and besides, Kar-”
“Agent Mosos, shut up.”
Kavya was shaken by the tone of his voice,”I-”
“No. You will step down, Agent.” She didn’t move. “Step down!”
“Yes General.” Kavya moved to the distance from her supieror dictated by the formal protocal.
“Your behavior is reprehensible! You’ve insulted your Chancellor’s integrity, damaged your own respectibility, and for that you are suspended.”
“But-”
“Dismissed, Mosos Kavya.”
“Khy!”
“Dismissed!”
Kavya nodded proudly, and with her chin in the air turned to leave. She ahd one hand on the door when Khyros spoke.
“Kavya.”
She looked back at him.
“Dear Kav, did I frighten you? How could you believe that I, General and Emporer of Khyron, was capable of-”
Her lips upon his halted the statement and as it ended she grinned at him.
“Did it work?”
“What?”
“Is your headache gone?”
He paused,”Completely.”
With a single sweep of her arm she cleared his desk.
“Good.”