Tech Duinn: An Ether Collapse Series (Ether Flows Book 1) Read online

  A puff of smoke rose from the split kindling and he missed the response as he added air, literally breathing the fire to life. Dara set up a stew pot and began throwing trail rations, water, and some herbs into it. The combination didn’t look appealing, but maybe the water would make the trail rations softer. A good stew would take a few hours to cook and would likely be ready right before the batteries of the transport would be recharged.

  Dara shooed him. “Go get to your sword forms again.”

  He had gotten too close to the fire and failed to remain invisible. He scowled at his failure. But walked over and picked up his training sword from the back of the truck.

  For the next few hours, he flowed from form to form and tried to listen, but the adults were too far away. Verimy didn’t even come to correct forms or ask questions—changing routines indeed.

  What has them so worried?

  He was in the middle of Dancing Dragonfly when the final rays of sunshine fled the sky, making room for the darkness that swallowed everything but the fire.

  Dara called, “Dinner is ready. Come get a bowl, Azrael.”

  Azrael put his practice sword back into the truck, then walked over to the firelight. As if in perfect sync, six other people carrying weapons did the same.

  Azrael scanned them all quickly and saw three cocked crossbows, two spears, and one sword.

  They weren’t here to talk.

  Chapter Four

  “No one move, no one does anything heroic, and no one gets hurt!” the mugger holding the sword exclaimed. Azrael assessed the man, taking in his weak grip on his rusty sword, his ragged clothing, and his gaunt frame. This man wasn’t a threat, and probably wasn’t even the leader of these hooligans.

  Why was this weakling doing the talking? Trying to conceal the true threat maybe?

  Azrael continued his study of the enemies. Two of the crossbowmen were barely able to lift the weapons to shoulder height, and instead were bracing the butts against their stomachs. The limbs of the contraptions were dry-looking and had webwork cracks marring them. The strings were even fraying! If these two nincompoops fired, they were likely to wound themselves with recoil and break their weapons at the same time.

  Not just them, either. Azrael shifted his gaze to the spearmen and noticed that they both were a bit beefier. At least they had a semblance of proper form with their legs spread just past shoulder width and the spearheads aimed at targets. His eyes narrowed. The slightly healthier appearance was because they wore rusty chainmail under their shirts. They were just as gaunt as the others.

  What in the world would possess these men to attack healthy, able-bodied travelers? Azrael felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Dara and Verimy would make quick work of these wannabe thugs.

  But the two both had hands raised into the air. Were they waiting to surprise the would-be crooks?

  Azrael double-checked his assessment and even scrutinized the trees—triple-checking. Verimy opened his mouth and slowly intoned, “We don’t want any trouble. Perhaps we can offer you some food and a place by our fire for the night—”

  The ‘swordsman’ cut Verimy off, “You will stay there as my colleagues go through your truck. Don’t move!”

  Mark spoke up, his voice wavering, “You need my biometric to open the back—eek!” The merchant actually squeaked when a crossbow twitched in his direction. Why in Sovereign’s name weren’t Verimy and Dara attacking?

  One of the crossbowmen kept his stirrup pointed at Mark while the other continued to aim at Azrael. The swordsman motioned sloppily with his rusted piece of metal for Mark to stand and open the truck. He sneered as he directed his next words to Azrael. “Kid, come join the others at the fire!”

  Slowly, Azrael made his way over to the firepit. He still couldn’t figure out why his trainers had done nothing to stop this.

  He lowered himself into a crouch, his muscles tight with the strain of inaction. These men were such weaklings, he felt like he could kill them all himself! Yet, he knew he was at a severe disadvantage without levels and access to skills, but—

  Then it hit him. It felt like a kick between the legs. His stomach clenched and his fingernails dug into his palm.

  Dara and Verimy were protecting him!

  Azrael’s eyes widened, and he looked to Dara, who was observing him from the corner of her eye. He felt his blood cool. His two high-level trainers were currently sitting still and allowing muggers to take their gear because Azrael was too much of a burden.

  It turned into a rather polite mugging, as each time one of the ragged morons approached Verimy or Dara to loot their gear, they grew too scared and retreated. Azrael would have laughed if he wasn’t so upset. The muggers packed up what they could carry, which was a pitifully small amount, from the truck. Verimy chimed in as they prepared to leave, “Were you the group that was tracking us at our last campsite?”

  The leader sneered. “We were just waiting for you to let your guard down!”

  Verimy laughed in response, and it seemed to unnerve the man, who hastened to pick up his load of mismatched spoils. The group of muggers ran off, towards town, and Verimy stood slowly. “Was there anything valuable that they took?”

  Mark shrugged. “Nothing that I can’t recover. Mostly food, and leathers I was planning on trading in the next town.”

  Dara stood up during Mark’s response and placed a hand on Verimy’s arm. “Let’s just eat and get back in the truck. One of us will keep watch for more muggers. No need to go after them; I’m sure they’re starving and desperate.”

  Mark’s eyes widened comically at the exchange, and Azrael felt his ire flare again. They should have just handled the imbeciles when they attacked. Verimy’s head fell and he muttered, “Dropping your guard because you were in the Territory! Not smart, Verimy!”

  The group ate. His trainers weren’t in the mood to talk. Azrael wasn’t either. Whenever he thought of the muggers, he wanted to punch both of the high-levelled trainers.

  Was that compassion Dara just showed?

  Mark, on the other hand, ate with so much speed Azrael wondered if he would choke. His eyes moved in every direction but toward his food. A lot of the merchant’s meal ended up on his tunic.

  “We should be able to leave soon. We could travel through the night and get into the deep wilderness before we would need to stop and recharge. Do you think that would be safer?” Mark’s voice wavered. Azrael could tell the merchant hadn’t seen much combat before.

  Verimy stroked his chin and looked at Dara. Together they nodded, and just like that, it was decided—probably for Azrael’s safety!

  He clenched his teeth so he wouldn’t scream at them, or at the universe. He didn’t need protecting. He had been trained his whole life for this. Would he ever be able to make his own decisions?

  After the food was finished and the stew pot was cleaned, the group got into the truck.

  Mark fired up the gravity engines as soon as they got inside, and within a few minutes they began bouncing down the path. Still no one talked, and Azrael seethed.

  He gave up on calming down and moved to the back of the truck, hoping he might fall asleep. The only problem was that his mind wanted to rage. He let the anger and frustrations of the night wash over him.

  He didn’t need anyone else. He hadn’t needed to be coddled by his two trainers—he could and would have taken care of himself. Who cares if he didn’t have a Class—

  Tech Duinn welcomes you and congratulates you for making it past your VIIIth orbit of Farghul!

  You have now been granted access to your personal interface to help you navigate. Become strong and help Tech Duinn survive!

  ● To check your personal interface, please use thought, and intention commands.

  Azrael felt his breathing slip out of his control—he let it and his heart have their way. This was far too exciting. Hands shaking with adrenaline, he navigated to his character sheet and then to his class selection page.

  Azrael S
overeign Level 1

  Class: Awaiting Selection

  Class Skills: Awaiting Class

  Health Points = 110/110 Points

  Ether Pool = 130/130 Points

  You have 5 stat points and 1 skill point to distribute.

  Stamina – 11

  Strength – 13

  Agility – 11

  Dexterity – 12

  Intelligence – 13

  Wisdom – 9

  Charisma – 13

  Luck – 12

  Would you like to assign statistic points now?

  | No

  A hurried review of his available classes using his search parameters yielded unexpected results.

  Where was the Sovereign Class?

  Chapter Five

  The truck hovered along, and Azrael looked through the list of classes one at a time. He found the alphabetical listing function and scanned the area where Sovereign should have been. Nothing.

  His body felt like it had been on a roller coaster. His chest ached and his eyes burned, but he fought to stay awake. Maybe it was one of these other search functions?

  ***

  He woke up as the truck bed bounced and tried to open his eyes. They felt glued shut and he rubbed them, forcing the crust to fall away. That finally allowed him to open them. He had spent all last night searching through classes to no avail and had slept in.

  The truck bounced and shook as the gravity engines tried to compensate for uneven ground. Azrael looked out the front and saw that they had definitely gone off road. They likely would have to stop soon to allow the battery some recharge time as well. He wondered how far off the grid they were.

  He looked at his two trainers, and took a deep breath. They were his next reluctant option for finding his Ancestral Class. It was possible they knew something, after all.

  ***

  “The King himself recognized him as a Sovereign. Why would he not have access to his Ancestral Class?” Verimy asked no one in particular.

  Azrael regretted the decision to talk to them. They now spoke to each other as if he wasn’t present.

  Dara shook her head. “This is our first time talking with one of the kids after they turn the appropriate age. Perhaps there was something at the Halls we missed. Remember, they were always taken away by the principal for a week. Maybe an item granted access.”

  I am right here, you know!

  Verimy snapped his fingers. “That’s right. Then they also received special training for a year afterward, before moving to the King’s special forces!”

  Mark’s face firmed when he saw Azrael’s clenched jaw and red face. Mark tapped Verimy on the shoulder, and Azrael turned to go. He needed some fresh air. He grabbed his training sword and swiped a piece of paper that was open on the tabletop. Perhaps it was the map…

  “Let him go work through his forms. This is probably harder on him than anyone else,” Dara’s soft voice called.

  More sympathy? I don’t need your sympathy. I don’t need an Ancestral Class. I don’t need to be a Sovereign Son!

  “I thought they were emotionless monsters,” Mark began, before he coughed to a stop. “I mean, that’s what people say about the Sovereign Sons,” Mark stuttered.

  I will become a monster. I will become emotionless.

  Azrael jumped down the few feet to the forest floor, stomping into his landing, and surveyed his surroundings. They were deep in the wilderness. He punched the door button without looking back.

  Mark must have shut down the engines sometime earlier this morning. He stormed into the forest and sat down on a black boulder covered in brown moss.

  He unfolded the parchment he had swiped. It was just a hand drawn version of an original map. Jackpot. Azrael tried to interpret the hastily drawn lines. Mur was depicted as a house with the name scrawled in chicken scratch above it. The star must be where they were now, a few leagues outside the Territorial boundary. What was the treasure chest, and the X?

  The treasure chest was nearly on top of the star. The words above it said Training Site. The X had the word Cabin. He oriented himself and turned in the direction of the nearby Training Site. What could his trainers have in mind?

  He folded the map and began his warm up exercises for sword forms.

  Congratulations! You have learned a new skill.

  Swordsmanship

  ● Swordsmanship skill will help you better wield any weapon classified as a sword.

  Each level, you will gain some small tidbit of knowledge about wielding your blade.

  Each level reduces the chance of being disarmed by 0.5%.

  Current Rank: Weak level 1.

  He finished his first kata, and the twenty skill level increases convinced him to continue into the next. He knew his trainers and they wouldn’t bring him to some random place in the forest and mark it on a map. Or buy a map for that matter.

  What would Verimy buy a map to, on Tech Duinn? What did you buy a map for in general?

  Treasure, which was indicated by the treasure chest. But that was a kid’s fantasy. Or a really stupid writer’s delusional attempt to create an end goal out of nothing. Couldn’t be that.

  The goal of his trainers was to get off this planet. Did the mark on the map depict a pickup point? But then why would some random person in the market have it? Why would Lord Ogma be interested in it?

  A dungeon. They had spoken of a dungeon. It was the only logical training device that fit. His trainers had bought a map to a dungeon out in the middle of nowhere. Dungeons could give treasure.

  He advanced into the Moderate swordsman ranks, and a grim smile crossed his face.

  Stats page open, he watched the skill tick up steadily as he entered the third kata.

  He seized onto the salve that this show of strength provided. His starting stats were further proof of his gains from his time at the Sovereign Hall. On average, his race of human would average 8 in all categories. Through the classes and training, he was above that in all of them. He entered his fourth kata and ranked up Swordsmanship again to the Strong rank.

  His growth after that, while fast, slowed down enough that he knew he wouldn’t reach the Greater rank in Swordsmanship unless he trained all day.

  He finished his ten katas and sat down, mind feeling clearer than it had the previous night. He had options now, and one of those options was to get away from his trainers. Dara and Verimy had hidden things from him his entire life. Did he really want to stay with them?

  He twirled his ring. He wanted revenge for the Tuathan attacks on his home. Dara and Verimy followed the laws of that place. Could he fault them for their loyalty when he longed to return to the same?

  The iron signet ring caught the light. The half-moon or ax head, and the crossing sword or fragment of a star’s light. So many theories existed about what the sigil represented.

  Azrael didn’t care. To him, the sigil had always represented the fight each Sovereign Son battled through. The metal backdrop was the shield the Sovereign Empire created with their strength. All the people of the Empire were behind that shield. His mother was somewhere behind that shield.

  He reached out to turn the ring again—seriously considering throwing it away.

  Ring of Holding

  Soulbound

  Size: Small

  Weight Reduction: 90%

  Inventory

  ● Note

  ● 500 Crystals

  ● Sovereign Sword

  ● Scroll of Strong Obfuscate

  Azrael’s breath caught. The strange weight of the ring suddenly made a lot of sense. It wasn’t some foreign metal mixed with iron. How could his trainers not know about this? For it to be Soulbound meant that this ring was exceptionally rare.

  A Soulbound item couldn’t be removed from a small radius from around a person unless they wanted it to be. Most Soulbound items would be overlooked by others as well. The system somehow created an unknown effect that forced people to skip over the item in question. Soulbound items ha
d other effects—

  He shook his head; no point dwelling on the ring when it had things inside. He pulled out the sword first.

  Sovereign Sword

  ● This sword is a near-perfect replica of the Sword of the Sovereign King.

  Ether Pool: Large

  Current Ether Pool: 130/130

  Enchantments: Stats X (+3), Ether Edge V

  Stats X

  ● Increases all stats by 3, except for Luck.

  Ether Edge V

  ● Increases the penetration of this sword versus Ether Armor, and inherent Ether. This enchantment also prevents the need to clean this sword, as an Ether film protects it.

  From his classes at the Sovereign Halls, Azrael would classify this sword as extremely rare. It could even pass for an Heirloom or Soul Blade with the large Ether pool and enchantments. He placed it back into the ring. Why would every trainee get this ring if they had a Soul Blade waiting for them?

  He pulled out the bag of Crystals. He didn’t bother counting them, just hefted it in a palm, peeked inside the bag, and placed it back in the ring. He had no use for currency at the moment, not buried in the wilderness. Would he have had a use for Crystals at the Sovereign Halls?

  Will five-hundred Crystals buy me transport off this planet? Where would I even go to find a ship leaving?

  He resolved to possibly ask Verimy and Dara about that—if he returned to them.

  He pulled the skill scroll out next, marveling at the Strong classification, but not knowing precisely what Obfuscate was.

  Scroll of Strong Obfuscate

  ● Obfuscate allows a user to change the name or description of an item or their character sheet at will. This new name or description will appear genuine unless the individual’s Perception skill is high enough to detect it.

  Learn Obfuscate?

  | No

  This was a strange skill scroll to impart to trainees. Azrael wasn’t naïve and knew that this ring was of standard issue. What exactly was the purpose of these four items? The note might give him some clue and so, holding his breath, he pulled it out and began to read.