Sorry for Saturday's post being yesterday.  -_-  I honestly thought I published it then, but weebly thought I wanted to save it as a draft :P  Anyways, I haven't gotten many comments from my loyal fans since I've had to merge the TPS readers to this site...  It makes me sad...  So please comment!

Part LXXIX: Plans for War

Date: Kornun 22nd, 114 A.U.

“Emperor Jaigran!”  The Watcher stalked in through the doors that the guards had opened for him as Emperor Jaigran turned from a table full of scattered papers and diagrams concerning the upgrades to the Mothership that had finally started to be implemented on its structure, though some of the upgrades still had to be designed.

“Ah, I see that you are back from your re-energizing trip, or whatever you call it,” Jaigran said as the guards shut the doors behind the Watcher.  Jaigran turned back toward his drawings as he made some notes on one of them.

"The name doesn’t matter,” the Watcher snapped.  “What matters is that you’re skimping on the work that you’re supposed to be doing.”

Emperor Jaigran bristled as he turned around to face the Watcher.  “I have been Emperor for 114 years and you dare say that I-”

“I have been alive for longer than you could even dream of living, you fool!” the Watcher snapped.  “A lot longer than any sane being should live.  Am I to know that you have dropped all plans of aggression against the goblins?  And why is it that I have not heard anything about our operations among the Resistance for months?”

"There was no point in continuing the operations,” Jaigran said as he turned back to gaze at the diagrams.  “The plan we came up with months ago basically rendered further infiltration and invasion useless.”

“You underestimate your enemies,” the Watcher snapped.  “The Xavier Team nearly killed you six months ago!”

Jaigran glowered as he turned back to stare at the Watcher.  “And I’ve doubled up my guards since then.”

“All I’ve seen is your cowering under light and making sure every shadow is made bright because you think there’s a Sla’ad waiting behind every corner to massacre you!” the Watcher complained, gesturing at the bright lights overhead that left the room shadow-free.  “Don’t you realize the power that the goblins and the Resistance hold?”

“They are a petty force that thought they could destroy the strength of the elves,” Jaigran retorted.  “I was well on the path to annihilating them before, and now that our new plans will kill them all anyways, there is no point in going on.”

“There is a prophesy that could well spell out your defeat,” the Watcher snapped.

“I fulfilled Xavier’s Prophesy long ago,” Jaigran said.  “There really-”

“You cut corners and twisted words to make sure that there were no Sla’ad in your team,” the Watcher said.  “Furthermore, the new Xavier Team rediscovered the race of the auggers and gotten one of them to join their team, even though you still think they’re creatures of legend.  Fortunately, the prophesy likewise tells of their possible demise and doesn’t assure them victory.”

“Then we have nothing to worry about,” Jaigran said.

“Only because I am doing your work for you!” the Watcher snapped.  “I have a traitor on the Xavier Team who is working with me—how I got one of them to betray their team is none of your business.  But you still have the goblins and the Resistance to deal with.  I don’t care how puny you think they are, but there’s no point calling checkmate while the game is still far from finished.  We can have no loose ends.”

“What do you want me to do?” Jaigran snapped.

“Fortunately for you, I got some help with the goblins,” the Watcher replied.  “Some stupid goblin who thinks that an abnormally large tree is a god or something.  The fool has no idea of the true purpose and power of the tree he has named the Mothertree.  I’ve set things in motion to culminate in a rebellion against Lord Freglak of the goblins.  But the rebellion will only help if you go back to committing troops to the battle against them and stop ditching your own soldiers.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” Jaigran muttered.  “I’ll tell Unyihi to organize some reinforcements to continue the war there.  What else?”

“The Resistance,” the Watcher snapped.  “According to the rumors I’ve heard, you haven’t had any communication with your infiltration there for months.  From what I heard, you got so close to destroying the Resistance, and now-”

“I’ll do that again too,” Jaigran snapped.  “If only to please you.  What’s the use doing it all anyways?  They’ll be killed either way.”

“I prefer not to have any potential problems in our equation to victory,” the Watcher said, eyes narrowing.  “I’ve seen more history and more events than even the auggers could dream of and I’ve seen too many a despot fall by underestimating his opponents.  We will not let that happen again.  You will get back on track in wiping out any potential opposition and we will destroy the Xavier Team.  Do you have me clear?”

“Yes,” Emperor Jaigran glowered.  “I understand.”

“Good,” the Watcher said, walking over to the table.  “Now what do we have here?”

"The latest reports from our research stations for upgrading the Mothership and our other ships,” Jaigran said.  “The ‘civilian Motherships’—or whatever you want to call them—are going as planned and should be ready weeks ahead of schedule, if everything goes as planned.”

“Everything never goes as planned,” the Watcher muttered.  “Have you done research on the Arglem?”

"I haven’t been twiddling my fingers the past few months,” Jaigran said.  “I’m still trying to find that stupid elf archaeologist that deserted after Tzel-Maret but have mostly given up on that.  She and her brainwashed sister seem to be long gone.  I’ve extracted information from some of our slaves that were part of the war against the Sla’ad, but have only gotten hints and scratches of where it was.  According to them, the Sla’ad had enough foresight to hide the Arglem elsewhere, in some ancient secret treasure trove, before our forces invaded their chief city.”

“Then the path ahead of us seems clear, does it not?” the Watcher asked.  “The Sla’ad hid it, so the Sla’ad will find it.  We need to find some of the remaining Sla’ad and learn the whereabouts of this trove.”

“Already prepared for,” Jaigran replied.  “We’ve been tracking the path of a wandering Sla’ad tribe through a region in the ancient empire of the Sla’ad.  They cover their tracks well, but not well enough.  Within a week or two, we should pinpoint their current location.”

“Good,” the Watcher replied.  “Seems like you aren’t a total waste of an emperor.”

“You already knew that,” Jaigran replied.  “There’s a reason, after all these centuries, that you picked me to orchestrate your rise to power.”

“Even immense minds such as mine can forget things in the heat of the moment,” the Watcher replied.  “By working together, we will rise above all the other races of Arquenia.”

“And they will rue the day that they failed to bow the knee before me,” Emperor Jaigran said.  “In the day when we rule over all.”

Question of the Day: Who is the traitor and how are they in contact with the Watcher?

Announcing the new comments contest!  Scoring is as follows: You get one point for making a comment and two points for the best answer for the question.  Prize for the winner of the comment contest of Book III will be announced shortly.  Now get at it!  :)

Part LXXVIII: On All Sides

Date: Kornun 19th, 114 A.U.

Astrid felt the air breezing by her as she fell, still managing to hold the petrified Hagion in her arms.  Astrid managed to point her one arm left, moving her pinky finger down to press the button as she tried to point while clinging onto Hagion, who had been knocked out by the impact of them flying through the window.  Instantly, a wire with a small claw on the end flew out, hitting the top of a nearby building and somehow clinging on to it as Astrid suddenly rocketed forward toward the building.  She had a metal contraption on her right arm wove all around the outer side of it, almost like a second arm compressed against it but made out of metal, that connected to the metal backpack that fueled her transportation wire.  The building grew closer and closer and suddenly they were over it—Astrid releasing the mechanism on her arm as the wire snapped back into place.

Monty was already ripping his cloak off as he was frantically calling in their support via his radio-earpiece.  Letting Hagion down for a moment, Astrid quickly took her cloak off to provide access to what was beneath, revealing the clothes and weapons he had kept hidden from the elven guards.  Around her belt she had two guns, two knives, and a couple grenades, along with some other assorted tools. 

“Why did you bring him?” Monty yelled as he ran toward the edge, his eyes darting to find the next escape plan as Astrid watched the elven airships coming toward him.

“He’ll be useful!” Astrid frantically said as she aimed her right arm toward another building as she hugged Hagion with her left arm to keep him up.  “Besides he’s light.”  She hit the mechanism and the wire shot out, wrapping around an antenna on the other roof as she rocketed forward, Monty flying beside her as he yelled something into his earpiece that allowed him to communicate with the rest of the group.  Gunshots blared around them as the elven airships got closer.

“I need you to change directions in flight!” Monty roared as he gestured at another building.  “There.”

“But-"

"Now!”  Monty’s wire went limp as it whizzed back into his arm contraption as he fell, turning as he pointed at the next building, the wire again flying out.  Trying to hold onto Hagion, Astrid loosed the contraption as the momentum carried her forward, frantically pointing as she felt Hagion slipping from her arms.  The wire flung and grew taut on the next building and they were flying again.

“This is code red, please get to your stations,” a loud robotic voice blared.  “This is an emergency.  Intruders have invaded the camp.  Repeat.  Intruders have invaded the camp.”

Astrid staggered as she hit the roof of the next building, barely remembering to let the wire mechanism to get back into her arm.  A trapdoor in the roof opened, and before Astrid could say anything, Zarien leapt out, slamming it behind him.

"Flek’s coming as soon as possible and Number 994 is safe,” he gasped, looking behind them toward the elven airships that were quickly narrowing the distance. 

“Next roof,” Astrid exclaimed. 

“Do we have enough wire?!” Monty gestured at the large gap between their building, the last of the apartments, to the other buildings that were farther away from the elven airships.

“No,” Zarien answered for him.  “Run for cover!”  The trapdoor he had come out of began opening.  “I’ll get them!”

Zarien made it to the trapdoor just as the first elf emerged.  Zarien socked him on the jaw before slamming the trapdoor on him as Astrid dragged Hagion behind a generator, shots ringing all around.  Quickly depositing Hagion, Astrid pulled the pin on the grenade and leapt up, standing atop the generator to see the elven airships nearly on them as she threw the grenade, throwing herself forward for cover as the ground raced toward her.

The hard metal of the roof hit her face as skin tore, an explosion ringing overhead.  Astrid rolled, bringing up her arms to try to block the shrapnel, but the airship hadn’t been close enough yet to rain shrapnel done.  Her arm still over her face, Astrid looked up as the other airship flew overhead.  And ten elves dropped down on cables.

Astrid leapt up, grabbing for her gun as Monty slammed into them.  Knocking one off balance, he grabbed the elf’s automatic gun and opened fire.  Astrid scrambled back as Monty ducked behind a ventilator, bullets flying into the ventilator as Astrid scooted next to Monty.  From the corner of her eye she watched the elves aim their guns at Zarien, struggling with the elves in the trapdoor.

Astrid screamed as at the last moment, Zarien grabbed the last elf fighting him and threw himself behind the elf, using the elf as a shield as the bullets ripped into the elf.  The other elves moved toward Zarien and, throwing aside his shield, Zarien slipped down into the trapdoor.

Gunshots suddenly blasted across the roof.  Astrid screamed and dove for cover but she was already under cover.  A figure dropped from the sky into the middle of the elves and light flashed.  The figure leapt and ducked, weaving his corsha blades through the elves before they had a chance to react. 

Flek killed the last elf before gesturing toward the ship that had halted above.  “Come on!”  He yelled.  “Number 994 is in there!  We don’t have much time!”  He gestured toward more elven guardships that were flying closer.”

"But Zarien-”

“I’m in communication with him!” Flek said, gesturing to his earpiece.  “We’ll pick him up soon!  Let’s go!”  A ladder dropped down from the ship, and, running for Hagion, Astrid moved toward the ship as the elven ships drew closer.  Monty was there waiting at the ladder and, grabbing Astrid, held her tight as the ladder began lifting up into the ship.  And, with merely seconds to avoid being pummelled by the elven airships, it began its flight away.  And the chase began.

Question of the Day: How does Number 994 escape?  (I don't have any backstory planned for how he does, so let your creative juices get flowing...)

Sorry about Saturday's post, or the lack thereof...  Saturday was busy, to say the least...  In the meanwhile, to make up for my forgetfulness, I'll be posting on Thursday this week to catch up on the missed post, so hopefully that's all good.

Part LXXV: Laying the Lines

Date: Kornun 22nd, 114 A.U.

Oldin, head of the FRI, looked up from his desk to see ex-Governor Astrid come in.  She didn’t have an appointment, but she didn’t need it—even if she wasn’t Governor of Araelia anymore.  She wearily sat down at one of the swivel chairs and turned to face him.  After quickly signing a paper, Oldin turned toward her.

“Just got back from a long foreign policy talk with Iraina and his crew,” she said.  As the caller and initiator of the Xavier Team, she had managed to get some policies and positions at work before she left to basically become the official head of the Xavier Team.  Meaning that she was the one who had all the contact info of the Xavier Team and that everyone—including the new Governor of Araelia, Iraina—would have to go through her first.

“How’d that go?” Oldin asked.

"It was alright,” Astrid said, sighing.  “We got into a long debate about what the Xavier Team should be trying to do.  We got our first message from them in a while.  Apparently they decided to split up in their search for the Sla’ad’s rezquiert weapon.  Some of them were going to follow a lead to find a slave in the elves’ slaves camps while the others were going to go find the Sla’ad tribe that Reynyagn was a part of and try to glean info there.  Anyways, Iraina wants to insert more control over the Xavier Team since he thinks they could work really well together if coordinated with our other spies among the elves.  And I, of course, think that things should just be left to them, especially since it’s so hard to send messages to us without the elves intercepting them that the communication lag would make it near impossible to work.  He says that it’s high time that we stop worrying about the elves intercepting us and just take the risk since, according to him, the reward outweighs the risk.”

“I see,” Oldin said briefly, not wanting to get into the power conflicts between Iraina and Astrid.  “Any news from Jroldin?”

“He says he really wanted to be among the group that was infiltrating the elf work camps, but couldn’t,” Astrid said.  “The others agreed he was probably the most qualified to being a spy—thanks to you—but in the end they found it would be better for him to be with the other group.”

“Well, I guess that’s how it works…” Oldin said, tapping his finger before looking back up at Astrid.  “Would you mind if I asked for your advice?”

“Go for it.”     

“Well, you remember the operation we did that had captured the other Astrid as well as Jroldin?” Oldin asked.

“Course,” Astrid replied.  “Go on.”

“Well, apparently the group was more deeply rooted than the one hideout we broke into,” Oldin said.  “Because it keeps coming up.  And we’ve been trying to narrow it down.  Unfortunately, since then we’ve had five people who have been important to the case killed by some freak heart attack.  So somehow this group can kill people via stimulated heart attacks or something like that.  And according to new info we’ve collected, they appear to be connected with the elves.”

"What?!”

“They’ve been sending out low-level signals out of the mountain, heavily encoded of course,” Oldin said.  “And some source is sending them back.  We discovered this a couple months ago.  The question then became who they were communicating with.  Our potential leads have been frustrating—most of our communicants have been killed by this gang—but we’ve found lots of small money transactions from a more open elvish-sympathy gang that runs throughout several other dwarven cities.  And given that there aren’t many people they could be communicating with outside.”

“Got it,” Astrid said.  “So what do they want, and what are you doing about it?”

“That’s the problem,” Oldin said, frustrated.  “We don’t know what they want.  All we know is that the low-level operation we were tracking that captured Jroldin and Astrid was merely a façade to try to hide the other parts of this operation.  So for now, we’re just trying to gain information.  We’ve talked a good bit with Iraina of course, and he’s helped us some, but we’re not getting much anywhere.  So I wanted to know if you had any advice.”

“Well, I don’t have all the information and people that I used to have,” Astrid said.  “So I’m not completely sure…  But if you’re correct that their whole drug-running operation was merely a coverup—well, it seems a strange coverup to pick.  And if they are conspiring with the elves…”

"It means they’re a step ahead of us,” Oldin said.  “That they know about where we are and are probably planning to attack us.  Iraina has begun to put together a better defense system, as well as trying to intercept and stop these transmissions without either of them knowing.  And we have our best experts trying to decode their signals, though we haven’t had much success yet…  I feel like we’ve been caught by surprise…  And we’re going to have to really step it up to get past the base that they already have here in order to stop them from spreading their tyranny into the mountains.”

Question of the Week: What are the elves trying to do in Araelia?

Part LXXIII...  a part I have had planned since when I first decided on what the culture of the goblins in Arquenia would be like.  I've been awaiting this post for a while...  and now the plots and schemes of Freglak will get a bit more complicated...

Part LXXIII: Murmurs of Awakening

Date: Kornun 20th, 114 A.U.

High Priest Jaine applied the holy oil to his forehead, bowing several times as he approached the Mother Tree, now deserted and forsaken of all of its former followers.  Although his thoughts were supposed to be empty—leaving his thoughts open for the Mother Tree to imprint her conscience upon, they were anything far from it.  Before there would have been an audience—priests and goblins coming to see one of the monthly addresses to the Mother Tree.  Instead today, Jaine could only see a couple goblins who were standing around, but Jaine could see that they weren’t here to see him.

Everything had gone wrong for the Mothertree.  It had all really started with Freglak’s uncle, and the scheming plans he had devised before they had managed to replace him with his nephew Freglak—a disastrous move in retrospect.  Freglak had learned too much from his uncle about why the priests were evil and how he was to thwart them.  Jaine had been itching for month to gain the leverage to be able to replace Freglak..  But it was his alliance with the Elder Dragon that had broken the nearly-frayed bond between them.  After that, they had had no choice but to publicly denounce Freglak and replace him as Lord, electing a goblin named Narlen in Freglak’s place, a goblin they had thought they could easily influence.

Unfortunately, the populace was well against them and quickly decried this move.  With Freglak a hero, Narlen had received several death threats from anonymous goblins before he publicly renounced the Mothertree and pledged himself solely to Freglak.  And then…  Along with Freglak’s public mockery of the Mothertree and the continual victories being won out by the Elder Dragon, their group of priests had turned into a laughingstock.  The believers fled—even many of the priests renounced their vows and joined Freglak’s side.  And Freglak was anointed the sole Lord-Protector of the Great Forest, marking the completion of his rise to utter dominance.

Now all that was left of the worship of the Mothertree was a corpse—a ghost of what their belief once was—the only remaining priests ashamed of their duty—and all their believers scared into hiding to avoid the public mockery and shame that was now synonymous with the worship of the Mother Tree.

“Great tree of the ancients,” High Priest Jaine muttered, invoking the holy script.  “Sole protector of the Forest.”  A title which the heretic Freglak has claimed for himself.  But Jaine tried to ignore the thoughts within him as he continued his prayer.  “Oh Great Mother of us all, the Tree from which we gain our life and meaning!” he cried out, but he knew his heart was not in it.

“Oh…  Oh Mother Tree…”  Jaine fell on his knees as he broke the long-held ritual, with no one else around to see the first break in their ritual in the past one hundred and fourteen years since the Mothertree saved them from the elves.  “Your people have forsaken you!” he cried out.  “The Lord of the goblins has committed sacrilege, usurping your title and power for himself as he tries to make war against the elves without you!  He has broken the traditions, spurned the holy symbols, and committed sacrilege against you!  Your followers have dispersed—forsaking faith and fearing shame and have so rejected you!  Only a handful of your true followers remain!  Am I to be the only one who still believes in the promises?”  Jaine cried out in distress.  “Am I to be your last one standing when all else have gone away?  Am I the last in a long line of believers?  Why have you rejected us and let your people to go astray?  Your people have forsaken you for another—bring vengeance upon them!  You have seen what the heretic Freglak has done—how he has made an unholy pact with the Elder Dragon of old—how he has spurned the use of the old weapons with the profane guns.  You have seen how he has publicly put himself forth as an alternative to you—wrestling the status as ‘Protector of the Great Forest’—a status which belongs to you alone!  Rise up and be our deliverer!  Bring your call of vengeance!”  Jaine slowly looked up, tears streaming down his face.  “Don’t let your knowledge pass out of our memory…” he whispered.

A pulse rippled out of the Mothertree as the grass stalks bent and the trees swayed in the invisible storm that shook the earth as High Priest Jaine stared up at the rippling Mothertree, the moss peeling off of it as it shuddered.  Before his eyes, a door opened up, the wood moving and twisting aside to form a dark passage that descended into the Mothertree.

“Come.”  High Priest Jaine stayed kneeling, too breathless to move—too scared to dare that his wish might have come true.

“Come,” the voice repeated.  “Come.  And I will teach you the secrets of the Mothertree.  You will be the scythe in my hand to wrack vengeance upon my foes.  Come.  And I will teach you how you will be my prophet.”

And High Priest Jaine entered into the Mothertree, which slowly closed behind him.

Question of the Day: What will the Mothertree tell Jaine to do?

_

And thus begins Book III: The Quest!  I'm excited to begin posting again and looking forward to writing Book III...  I've got a lot of things planned and a lot of side-plots that will begin gearing up this book to prepare for the final climax in Book IV...  Let's go.

Prologue: Forged from Fire

Date: Kornun 18th, 114 A.U

The pale elf walked down the metal catwalk over the raging flames beneath, metal pounding on metal as the steel was slowly forged out of the fires below for the parts needed to upgrade the Mothership into a higher model, able to do all that would be necessary in light of the hastening cataclysm that would shake the very foundations of Arquenia.  Walking down metal stairs, the elf walked over toward the head foreman of this plant, who deftly saluted him as he saw the pale elf coming toward him.

“All hail, Watcher of Jaigran,” the foreman said, bowing his head.  “I have been expecting you.”

“Aye,” the Watcher said coldly.  “I have come for a report of all the progress that you have made over the last month.”

  “We are well past the half-way point in preparing the upgrades for the Mothership,” the foreman said.  “We’ve tested out our models in space quite profusely over that time.  The air exchange unit still has some trouble adjusting to the vacuum of space, but we have it in near-working condition.”

“I see,” the Watcher said, his voice devoid of any emotion.  “And the workers?”

“A few of the goblins tried to cause a revolt two weeks ago, but they were quickly put down,” the head foreman said.  “There haven’t been any problems since then.”

“I see.”  The Watcher was quiet for a few moments as the metal banging on metal continued behind him, sparks flying in the raging flames.  “How durable are the models?”

“Excuse me?”

"How durable are the models?” the Watcher said.  “Have you taken into account what would happen if there was a collision in space?  Would the Mothership hold or not, and how extensive and lengthy would it be to fix it?”

“I-” the head foreman began, and the Watcher suddenly realized the answer to his question.

“You haven’t tested its durability?!”

“I never thought!” the foreman began.

“It is your job to think of these things—not mine!” the Watcher snapped.  “Your lack of foresight could cost us lives.  The life of the Emperor himself, as well as all of elven civilization is at risk here!  It is your job to think of these things, not mine!”

“Forgive me, my lord,” the foreman said, falling on his knee.  “I have failed in my duties and I beg for my life.”

“Get up,” the Watcher snapped.  “I am in no mood for your pitiful groveling.  You will do better next time or you will be thrown into the flames that you have stirred up.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord.”

The Watcher turned to go, his feet slowly climbing the metal stairs as he walked over the precipice of flames, gazing from side to side.  How fierce were the raging flames.  But it would be nothing like the flames that would purge the world of their enemies.

Question of the Week: What does the Watcher have planned?

Last part of the Arquenia Saga... Tune in for concluding notes on Saturday...

Epilogue: Rising Tide

Date: Yippah 19th, 114 A.U.

The aircraft slowly moved into the first-class docking slot in the Mothership, cranes and mechanical arms moving out to slowly bring it into port, the ship finally coming to rest in the landing dock in the Mothership, the hangar doors into the landing dock slowly closing as a gangway was stretched out to slowly rest on the floor, steam emitting from the ship.

Two guards with firesticks came out first, abolishing any shadows around them as two figures followed them. Wings overshadowing him, Jaigran strode forward, golden gauntlets on his hands as in one hand he held on to a spear. His other rested on the hilt of his corsha rapier, which he had attached to his belt. Some of the elven nobles murmured and gestured. Why was the Emperor in possession of those weapons which he had long ago dismissed as old-fashioned?

A tall elf walked next to the Emperor, his eyes slanted upwards as he haughtily gazed at all those around him. His skin was pale, and he walked strangely, as if he hadn’t walked before. And, to the keen-eyed, he cast no shadow. Even Jaigran had the pale illusion of a shadow, brightened by the two guards with fire-sticks firing. But this elf had none. When asked, he gave only one word to who he was. The Watcher.

Jaigran cruelly smiled as he walked out of the landing dock, moving to his headquarters. For one hundred and fourteen years he had ruled, seeking to stamp out the remaining opposition, but now it no longer mattered.

He would burn them with fire.

Yes. Auggers. Generally described as humanoid lizards who eat rocks. That's the basics. The timelessness/memory part of Auggers is an invention specific to this. Nevertheless, you have heard of Auggers. And you WILL Remember them. It's my informal goal to get them regarded as a base fantasy race up there with orcs and gobbies and stufff.. help me with this goal, here... :P Never write fantasy without auggers.

Part LXXII: Looking Forward

Date: Yippah 21st, 114 A.U.

The campfire popped and crackled as the new wood was thrown into the fire. Around the fire, seated on stones, were the seven members of the Xavier Team, along with Brother Tomas and Monty. Augger munched on the rock that he held in his hand as the other members of the Xavier Team watched him curiously out of the corner of their eyes, still trying to figure out how he was able to eat rocks of all things.

“So,” Brother Tomas said, asking the question that had undoubtedly on the minds of the members of the Xavier Team for a long while now. “What are you going to do now?”

“I can fix your machine,” Augger said, putting down his rock that he had been eating. “Using some of the lava from this volcano, I can construct a device that will act as an engine and fuel to get us a good ways. At least until we should be able to come up with some civilization. One of my ancestors was a bit of a genius with heat-based technology.”

“Somehow,” Brother Tomas said, “Although that will help, something tells me that getting out of here isn’t your only problem.”

“No. You’re right that it’s not,” Reynyagn said gravely as he put down his plate of food. “We have learned that Emperor Jaigran is a whole lot harder to defeat than we had before planned. Somehow he survived a mortal wound, and that puts him on a whole new level. He now knows that the races are not as much in subjugation and in fear to him as he once thought. He may have survived. But he’s going to be a whole lot more cautious and careful to make sure that there isn’t a next time. And we never figured out what was so important for him to get to Tzel-Maret.”

“We need to work to turn the tide,” Zarien said. “We’re not going to be able to get him the same way—not unless we show him that it’s the only way to work. We need to show him that we’re powerful enough to wage a full-out rebellion against him. We can do that by striking at his bases.”

“What do you mean?” Jroldin asked.

“The slave camps,” Zarien stated bluntly. “The entire elven empire rests on the brunt of their slaves, made up from the races that have been captured by them, as well as disobedient elves and orcs. Entire cities are comprised of these slaves and their masters, having the work of bearing the brunt of providing for the entire elven civilization. We want to take them down? Disable the slave camps—at least enough of them that it sends warning signals to Jaigran that he can’t just ignore us.”

“There is another important item that should not be discounted,” Augger said. “Namely, the golden corsha weapons.”

“You mean my axe?” Jroldin asked.

“At the beginning of time, a golden corsha weapon was given to each of the seven races of Arquenia,” Augger said. “An axe to the dwarves, a spear to the humans, a rezquiet to the Sla’ad, and so on. They were given for the purpose of defense, with the promise that they were to be our salvation if things go wrong. That the golden corsha weapons would bring peace again to Arquenia. You have one, Jroldin. From what you told me of the battle, Jaigran has the weapons of the orcs and the humans. It is likely the orcs that give him his powers over the orcish magic.”

“What do you think we ought to do, then?” Flek asked.

“Find the golden corsha weapons,” Augger said. “Find the weapons and wield them against Jaigran. If the promises are to be believed—which they are—we will want to use them as we fight against the Emperor. And continue to follow the prophesy.”

“The prophesy,” Reynyagn said. “You knew of the part of which we knew not. Are there other parts that have been lost to our memory?”

“The full prophesy is outside of my knowledge,” Augger said. “Xavier was alive during my ancestor’s time and the prophesy was not told to my ancestor in its completion, but I will recite what I do know.”

“The wars go by the kingdoms fade and new kingdoms will come.
New nations rise new earthly powers and yet the world endures.
But yet a greater threat than any that have come before.
A greater threat now rises yet and still will break the shore.
Its power grows the kingdoms fade and all becomes entrapped.
The greatness of the nations will all be ascribed to it.
But yet a hope still stands!
But yet a hope still stands!
A team will rise out of the dust and out the ashes sure.
A member one from every race will bring it to a close.
And when it’s fruition is met it will go out for sure
To smite the power that has come to take away its peace
The power that is above and beyond all that lives and breathes
A power that yet threatens to destroy the earth with fire.
But now a hope doth rise!
But now a hope doth rise!”
A human named Astrid and an elf with ambition.
A Sla’ad will lead the group and Augger late will come to join.
An orc will help elf and goblin will show great expertise.
A dwarf who has a sign upon his head for his fixed place..
The seven will be unified in purpose and in mind
But yet a hope secures!
But yet a hope secures!
A healer for the party and one who bears Old Weapons.
A warrior seeks to lead and yet it won’t be granted him.
One will betray his friends and another will lose them all!
An outlaw yet by birth and one who saw a slaughter great.
These qualities they all must have if they will seek success.
And now a hope will rise!
And now a hope will rise!
A sign will arise in the sky to call the team together
A burning ember dark will rise and proclaim an emergence
The sign will gather together the team to rise to fight
To fight for good, to fight ‘gainst evil, to fight against the darkness
And now a hope is here!
And now a hope is here!
Far North the party now must go if it wants to succeed.
The trials that will try the group will bring it to the brink;
Despair must run o’er them before the culmination comes.
Till purified with fire it will stand against fire.
And now a hope is tried!
And now a hope is tried!
For darkness now is rising that will spread throughout the land;
A Watcher wakes and seeks to gain a pawn to help himself.
But the pawn seeks to be a co-ruler with the Watcher.
The Watcher makes a plan to give all power into their hands.
To destroy all with burning fire poured out from the sun.
Will now the hope rise up?
Will now the hope rise up?
The rising hope must rise if it will destroy the darkness.
Two leaders from among them will seek to lead them as one.
Although in unity, yet one from the group may rebel.
The traitor seeks to undermine what all their work have wrought
His struggle with the demon will determine victory.
Will the hope yet go on?
Will the hope yet go on?”
Augger stopped speaking and suddenly light shone forth from the star, a blue beam hitting the fire, estinguishing it as a pillar of light rose up to the star, now directly ahead of them, as they stood and looked up in awe at the star, now blowing bright, and the words still ringing in their ears of the promise of the prophesy.

The Xavier Team was now complete.

Part LXXI: Augger

Date: Yippah 21st, 114 A.U.

A tall humanoid reptile stood at the brink of the cliff overlooking the hardened volcanic rock below. Dull red scales went all around his body. A long tail twitched and he looked at them from his narrow black eyes.

Reynyagn reached for his sword as he stared at the reptilian being. “Who are you?”

“I am an augger,” the reptilian being said. He walked over toward them, putting his hands out to show that he had no weapons—apart from the claws on his hands.

“What is an augger?” Flek asked.

“I am an augger,” the augger said. “The auggers are the seventh race of Arquenia.”

Flek took a step back. “There are only six races.”

“Yes, that’s what you would believe,” the augger said, licking his hand. “We don’t get around much.” Silence reigned for a few moments.

“What is your name?” Jroldin asked.

The augger looked up. “Would that I had one. Alas, but because of my ancestor’s crimes, my name was stripped from me long ago. Call me Augger, after my species.”

“Your name was stripped from you?” Flek asked.

“Eight generations back,” Augger said. “My ancestor was a wicked augger and betrayed many of our kind into the hands of hunters. For his crime, he and his descendents were stripped of their names and banished from Araelia.”

“An outcast yet by birth…” Astrid whispered.

“What?” Reynyagn asked, not quite hearing her.

“An outcast yet by birth,” Astrid said louder. “The prophesy! One who was an outcast because of their birth!”

“And augger late will come to join,” Augger said.

“Excuse me?” Reynyagn asked.

“The second line of the third stanza of the prophesy!” Augger said. “A Sla’ad will lead the group and Augger late will come to join. I am the augger late to the party.”

“What did you say that line was?” Jroldin asked.

“A Sla’ad will lead the group and Augger late will come to join,” Augger said. “Do you not know it?”

“It finishes the rhythm!” Reynyagn said, a look of shock on his face. “It fixes the proposed errors in the prophesy! But it couldn’t be… I mean—how could a line so crucial go missing from the prophesy…”

“Slayers,” Augger said. “Six hundred years ago, a group of slayers determined to slay the auggers and wipe their name out from all sources because of the hatred that they hated our kind with. My ancestor betrayed many of my kind into their hands, causing his banishment. The slayers did what they could to wipe the auggers name from the books, an effort which succeeded. The races forgot the last race, and of those who heard of us, we were dismissed as legend.”

“I can’t believe it,” Brother Tomas said, a look of awe on his face. “I mean—how could we have missed it?”

“Men have missed larger things,” Augger said. Silence loomed over the group for a while.

“So,” Reynyagn said. “There’s a seventh race of Arquenia.”

“There is,” Augger said, smiling.

“Do you have relatives around here?” Reynyagn asked.

“Oh,” Augger said. He cocked his head. “I suppose you would have forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?”

“We auggers are not like you humans, or elves, or dwarves, or any of the other races,” Augger said. “You have genders, male and female. We have only one gender.” Jroldin tried to understand what Augger was saying.

“And so we reproduce differently,” Augger said. “Only by death does life spring forth. Throughout our life, we carry a sort of egg in us. The egg only hatches once death comes upon us. Generally, the egg only contains one augger, although twins have not heard of. And when we were first created, twins were much more common.”

“So your ancestors-” Reynyagn began.

“Are all dead, yes,” Augger said. “My genealogy have not had twins since my ancestor’s betrayal. In addition, auggers are by habit a nomadic people. Except for those who live in Araelia, many live out on their own, such as myself. Of all the races, we seem to care the least for relying upon each other.”

“Then how do you know so much?” Jroldin asked. “I mean, you know the Xavier prophesy, you know the different races… If you are a loner, then how-”

“Memories,” Augger said. “We are not like the rest of you. Because of how slowly we reproduce and because we were almost made to live on our owns, we have been blessed with the gift of perfect memories. We auggers never forget. And memories are passed down. I remember all of the memories of my ancestors before me, all the way back to the first augger to be created.” There was again silence.

“I think my brain is beginning to hurt,” Flek said.

Augger smiled. “I suppose that it would be expected. It is not every day that you discover a new race in Arquenia, especially one as different as we are. But it matters not. You were called here by the star, though you may not have known it, and the star has called the members of the Xavier Team together. And now, together, we will have much time to learn and grow as we understand each other.”

“I suppose so,” Zarien said.