UNTITLED: Book One

DAY 129

There isn’t much else to say

After you miscalculate the weight of your actions,

And their roll they play with fate

“I still can’t get over it. All that hype and he’s just another Old Guard? Like, really? What is he even suppose to do for us that we can’t already do for ourselves?” Solara groans as the three of them navigate through dense forest while trekking up a steep mountain.

“The best Old Guard, and the first… true Old Guard. From the days when the Old Guard with rankings were still around.” The Broker corrects her in between his gasps for air. Solara and Aiye merely sweating despite their trek lasting hours—up a mountain. The few breaks they have taken have been for him and him alone.

“And I assume…that you would know the—URGH—answer already.” The Broker continues as he struggles up an obstacle, reaching out his hand for Aiye to casually lift him over the last bit of it. Both accustomed to this by now, they perform the act as if routine.

Broker catches his breath for a moment. Because of his upbringing, he has always trained himself to be in miraculous shape, because he would have to be just to barely keep up with those from the city in the sky—as his parents would often warn. He recalls this while staring out, from their new vantage point, at the view of the snowy mountain range and dense forest below.

The forest consists of a dense mix evergreens that come in only two sizes: the same height as The Broker or absolutely humongous with trunks as wide as small homes. The mountains, underneath all that snow, come in various shades of orange, violet, or grey. The larger they are, the darker they are, and they too are densely packed like the forest.

Broker takes all of this in while he tries to return his heartbeat back to normal levels. He’s covered head-to-toe in snow gear, with a backpack full of supplies on, while the other two wear pullover hooded sweaters and some thicker socks—all black still.

He sips some hot soup from his thermos before offering the other two some. Aiye predictably rejects it, although more politely this time. Solara, lost in thought as she admires the mountain range, takes the thermos without looking and chugs it all in just a brief moment. Still stuck in her introspective trance, she obliviously hands it back to him. Frustrated, but not surprised, The Broker closes his eyes for a moment as he takes back the empty thermos—tilting it over his cup to salvage the last few drops.

That was his favorite soup, and there was an entire two liters in there, my goodness. Solara half snaps out of her daze only to glance his way briefly.

“Oh. Sorry. Thanks,” she says as she wipes the bit of soup left on her chin and continues walking. The Broker shakes his head, but he cannot help but to grin to himself.

Lately, she has been having these moments more frequently. Is she really changing? He wonders internally. Hmm. But, it is best to not let any of that get to my head. My plans are my plans, he thinks before he continues his reply to Solara’s earlier doubts.

“The answer to your earlier question, by the way, is that he can help us defeat The Warden. See, Sollar and The Warden were close—like brothers, before and during the war. No one really knows what happened after, but I have gathered from others of that time period, is that during the war it seems there was already a growing rift despite their brotherhood. I imagine a war can be a strong motivator for temporarily setting aside differences. Either way, he knows everything about The Warden. All his secrets. His weaknesses. My mother actually served under him, see. The ranked Old Guard were not like the mindless drones you presume the Old Guard to be today. In fact, none of them were like that before. Even I can still remember the days when they had-.”

“-A brain.” Solara cuts in.

“More, personality.” Broker asserts. “So, my Mother spoke highly of his character. She had been serving under him as one of the first batch of regular soldiers in the military.” He glances at the two teens, “She was about your age. She even witnessed the birth of the Old Guard program. She and my Father both opted out of the transition because they saw what it did to candidates in the early trials—before it was perfected. But that is neither here nor there. The point is, apparently something changed when those two went on a journey, at the beginning of the war, in search of a way to win it all.”

“Where’d they go?” Solara asks, her attention fully on The Broker now.

“Nobody knows. At first many thought they had abandoned the fight. We were on the losing end of a bunch of prox- -er, wars fought in other lands not our own. The Dark State’s all-out attack on our land was due to their confidence from all their victories during that time. After making all the colonies flee here. But, all we know is that they returned with some weapons that The Warden used in the war.” Broker continues.

“Ohhhhh, the fucking daggersssss! Shit! That’s how he got those? That’s crazyyyyy. I never knew that part of the story. I assumed he found ‘em here or ‘em here. BUT ALSO, it’s not big deal. I don’t even see the hype for those weapons anyways. In fact, I had been starting to think that everything and everyone from that era is overhyped and now I’m even less excited to meet this Sollar dude if he also had a weapon like that too.” Solara says with a dismissive flick of her wrist.

“Sol.” The Broker calls out, trying to draw from their newfound chemistry to aid in the point he is trying to make right now.

Solara stops suddenly in her tracks and spins around to face Broker. Aiye’s brows raise, in a look of awkward shock, as his head swivels back-and-forth between Solara and The Broker. With the way they both reacted, you would think that Broker had called her something shockingly offensive.

“Only Aiye is allowed to call me that, Broker.” Solara says very bluntly. Then after a while of awkward silence, she awkwardly adds, “Please don’t do that again.”

The Broker gently holds up his hand in a gesture of apology, “Pardon me. My mistake. Young Solara my dear… I only mean to point out that those weapons would enable a regular person—such as myself, to defeat not just one hero of the Dark State, but multiple. You have only fought apprentices, but believe me when I say that actual Heroes are much, much more powerful and the biggest lie ever told was that there was only ever just one: one Hero, one Protector, and one weapon. As you guessed, Sollar brought back a weapon too. A sword. And I am hoping that his knowledge, and/or his willingness to fight with us, will be the result of this journey.”

“Yeah, about that…” Aiye speaks up. “If he didn’t like the Warden so much, why-?”

“-Why did he not just defeat The Warden himself?” The Broker interrupts. “Aiye, The Warden is not just some pushover? Especially with his weapons. Do not let his scientific leaning confuse you as to what you are up against. By birth, yes, he is simply an average person, like myself. However, unlike the rest of us, he was originally from the Dark State, and originally one of the Hero candidates. Our best fighter. Our hero. He was The Protector before he was the The Warden, after all.”

The Broker spots a nice rock to sit on and does so before he continues talking, “But also, perhaps The Warden knows too many of Sollar’s secrets and weaknesses as well. A stalemate, if you will. Or, perhaps it is just too difficult for either of them to personally deliver a killing blow to the other. Their relationship was like the two of you—the way you two are close. I imagine at least.” He says with a slight shrug. “Would either of you be so willing to kill the other for personal gain, or even if one of you were to step too far out of line?”

Aiye looks down his feet, but Solara—clearly offended, retorts, “That would never happen! There wouldn’t EVER be a need for that. Everything we do aligns. We are one. Plus, what would even be considered too far?”

“That is subjective.” The Broker replies.

“Ugh!” She throws her arms in the air in frustration as she stands over the Broker. “Which means?”

“It means that the answer depends on the opinion of the person you are asking. Whose opinion can be rooted in principles… or selective, like your vocabulary comprehension.” He stands back up and continues walking.

“Self-taught asshole.”

“Yes, I recall as much, but you would think that for you to know some of the words that you do know, you would also have to encounter others alongside it. Such as, subjective.” He grunts as he hurdles a gap and lands in thicker, deeper snow. The other two daintily skip over it like nothing.

Aiye reaches back and with a single finger, he gently tugs Broker back on balance to keep him from falling backwards into the gap to his doom. The Broker gathers himself and then trudges on as he speaks. “The highly selective nature of your rhetoric and comprehension is strange, is what I am saying.”

“Indubitably, surface man. Your words ring true as they reverberate throughout my iron heart.” Solara sarcastically says with a hand over her heart and her other arm dramatically gesturing in the air.

“Case—” The Broker is about to speak before he is interrupted.

“CaSe AnD Point??” Solara beats him to it mockingly.

A silence brushes over the group for a moment before The Broker shakes his head and starts chuckling—followed by laughter from Aiye. Even Solara smirks.

They continue their climb up the mountain and through the forest as the sun begins to go down. Scaling walls, jumping across ridges, and resting—mainly for The Broker’s sake, but they do finally take their first unanimous break.

Setting up camp and sharing food, both Aiye and Solara listen as the Broker tells them stories about all he knows regarding the world, Sollar, the war, and of course, The Warden. Even explaining to them that although there is technically one Hero by title, the Dark State Hero actually travels with a group of three others who would be the next in line to be a Hero. How they choose between the four, no one knows, but any of the four in that group could have been a Hero. They all have powers, but the chosen Hero’s, of course, are stronger.

By the time the night arrives, they are well on their way up the remainder of the mountain. After another hour or so of climbing and traveling through winding paths, they finally reach a large clearing of dark grey flat ground. Unnaturally flat ground. Like-

“Isi-Iyi?” Solara speaks up first. “This place is just like that island? Maybe we can get you some food here, HAH.”

The Broker ignoring her joke, surveys the area carefully and cautiously. He responds to her initial question, half-present, “I did not know of this… Huh. Interestingggg.”

He tests the flat surface by scattering a few rocks in different directions. Then he heaves a larger rock over to the edge and drops it onto the surface. All the while, Solara watches on impatiently, rolling her eyes and clearly antsy. But, just as she is about to do something impulsive The Broker steps on to the surface cautiously and then begins to walk across it. Aiye and Solara follow.

The three of them head towards a large canyon that seems more like a gateway. Ominous in the night sky. From the front, it looks as though it winds and weaves its way deeper into the mountaintop, but so far, assuming anything about this place seems like a great way to be wrong. So they stay ready as they travel through it.

As they walk across the vast and empty flat surface, they look small—even Aiye and Solara—making their way to the canyon entrance. The Broker stops short again to analyze and ensure that it is safe, for himself. This time, Solara and Aiye just keep walking through. Broker stands and watches them, waiting for anything to happen before entering. After they have gone some distance, he catches up to them.

Solara looks back, over her shoulder, to interrogate him again. “I honestly thought Sollar was your boy, this whole time. Like y’all were cool or something. Where’s the warm welcome?”

The Broker scrunches his nose and brows at this, and he responds, “I never said this? I simply said I know of his whereabouts—how to find him.”

“Yeah, but you also know a lot of personal shit about him too.”

“Not exactly.” He shakes his head. “Simple stories or basic information I have gathered—or my people have gathered, over the many years we have been in this business. I do not believe I have said anything specific enough to imply any deeper relationship, have I? That is why the two of you are so necessary for this part of the plan. I am quite uncertain of the welcome we are meant to receive from Sollar, and that concerns me. Especially the closer we get to his location.”

They continue walking on, for what seems like hours, across the unnaturally flat surface. As they go deeper into the canyon, the surface begins to give off a dim light with each step they take.

“Ohhh! You know, we saw this same thing at one of the factories! The last one we went to actually. Took me a second to remember, but yeah,” Solara says to no one in particular.

“Yeah, whoa.” Aiye says, focused on testing the luminescent surface with his every step. “So does that mean they use pieces of this- I guess, rock? Or is this another technology they got from the land? Hold up, is this rock even real?”

“That depends on what you define as real, but we believe that most of these surfaces—such as this mountain canyon and Isi-Iyi, were created with…intent. By whom, we cannot say, because we have no clue.”

The remainder of their journey takes a little longer as the two, recently-turned 18-year-olds, walk the last half of it in constant awe. Constantly trying to test out the floor.

At one point, Solara even tried to punch a hole into the ground to catch or reveal whatever gave off that light. They didn’t notice it back in the factory, but the way the light moved made it seem alive. However, all she got for her efforts was a bloody fist from some scratches while only managing to produce a crack on the surface.

It was far more durable than any rock or metal they were accustomed to. It felt dense, almost “never-ending”, as Solara described it to them. It was as if she was “punching the ocean, or something”. And Aiye pointed out that he didn’t feel any vibrations from the impact of her punches. So that was interesting, but not worth stopping their progress.

As they continue on, The Broker watches the two playfully debate the lights, challenging one another to climb the canyon the fastest—which he tried to downvote, and make jokes about what Sollar looks like. Was he gorgeous, or brutish, or did he have wings and tentacles and mind-control powers!? What? The Broker still forgets their age some times.

Anyways. The Broker’s biggest concern was that he never told these two that Thema and her team already knew of Sollar’s whereabouts. And had probably already confronted him and probably lost.

He was well aware that she was following them and listening in to his people’s important communications this entire time. She probably knew that he was aware, but from what he gathered, she could not afford to pass up the opportunity. Based on what he observed about her situation, it seemed dire. She clearly needed to bring back results to the Warden.

But again, the problem was that he did not tell these two. He could not trust that Solara, or even Aiye for that matter, would not do something rash. Like Solara trying to rush here first to beat Thema if she found out earlier on.

He also knew of the weapon Sollar possessed, and if Thema encountered the greatest and strongest Old Guard ever, wielding one of the strongest weapons ever, then he did not see a scenario where she came out alive—in one piece at least. It would then be easier to deal with Sollar—gain his trust by pointing out that his enemies have returned, or finish him off while if he is still weak from his battle with Thema and her team.

Honestly, now that he is considering it, even if these two find out now, it is a win-win for him. What is done, is done. At this point, any outcome still works in his favor and they would eventually get over their frustration with all his secrets and conspiring. Sure, they will likely revert back to their harder-to-deal-with selves for some time. But this time he is certain it will be brief, and even if not, it has become easier to manage them as he gradually improves his understanding of their…flow.

In fact, the only way this situation could work against him… The Broker clenches his fists, jaw, and eyes shut as he turns the last bend in the canyon.

The only way it can work against him…is if this happens.

Aiye and Solara stare at him with accusatory faces that he is certain are holding back great anger. He looks in their eyes as they look back-and-forth between him and the destroyed mountain range. It is as if something larger bulldozed half of the canyon they were walking through.

Large gashes in the surface and mountain range make it seem as though it was clawed out by a humongous creature. Claws that are also the size of mountains—or at least their peaks. Some mountains in the distance, cut in half, diagonally, horizontally, and vertically—these cuts so clean that they are almost as smooth as the unnaturally smooth surface they traveled to get here.

The Broker stands his ground with an unapologetic look as if to say, “What did you expect?” Solara gives a disgusted snort in response and walks out into the clearing to analyze the situation.

There must’ve been more canyon here. There’s so much rubble and destruction, she thinks as she continues walking. I should’ve known that fucker was hiding something. ALWAYS up to something. Always. You can’t trust surface people for shit. Or weak people in general. They scheme all the fucking time because they can’t do shit on their own.

She finally stops in front of the sword stabbed into the surface, and the bodies scattered around it. The sword is a deep black that is so dark that it looks more like the absence of the sword. Like the sword was actually just an image of a sword that was cutout from reality, leaving only its silhouette behind.

She observes longer. It has no cross guard. Just a long handle grip attached to a much longer blade. About half the height of a New Wave. Hm, this is a pretty long sword.

She reaches for the grip of the sword, but before she can even grab it, it sends a surge of pain through her arm, burning her. Except, there’s no fire or smell? It’s like it’s burning internally. Almost as if it rejected her.

She winces silently with just a quick blink of her eyes, immediately pulling her hand back, and then studies the burn marks for a moment. It’s as though a part of her hand, that made contact with the sword, was faintly dyed black. The marks start to fade away. She shrugs it off. She could care less about a weapon anyway.

Next, she scans the bodies. They’ve been here a while. The blood has long since dried, she notes of the three bodies she sees.

The large adult-looking one must be Sollar. Headless now. How anticlimactic. For her at least. She was looking forward to this fight. But it looks as though this fight ended already. Days ago, even? And…wait, what happened to his eyes and ear? She wonders as she analyzes his head. He’s completely missing eyeballs, and it’s not recent either. No blood or fresh damage in the area. His eardrums destroyed as well. Huh. Well shit. I don’t think this guy was gonna give us a damn thing.

She dismisses the sight of him too and continues scanning around. A random arm over there? Definitely doesn’t belong to these other two bodies—the pulse pistol guy and the sneaking one from Thema’s team. As far as she could tell. Both very dead. And bodies just…fucked. Ugh.

Finally, she exaggerates a sigh and stands there for a moment as she takes in the final body. She turns her attention towards Thema who, facing the mountain range with her back turned to them, is staring blankly at the destruction in the distance as the sun slowly rises, creeping up her ankles and legs. It casts her shadow across the scene.

Solara realizes that while Thema is standing there, she is shivering and traumatized. Observing how she’s heavily injured and covered in blood. Lots of it. As if she bathed in it. All dried too. Has she been standing here the entire time? For one day—two?

Thema’s battle skin is absolutely useless and tattered now. Her hair a mess, covering parts of her face and the dried tears of blood streaking down it. And her hands—woah. What the-? Solara leans in very very close, for a better look. They’re completely blackened, all the way down to the middle of her forearms. From afar you’d think she was wearing really long gloves.

Solara straightens up again, removing herself from Thema’s personal space. Waiting to see if she’ll say something or get pissed. Solara observes her for moment with cautious, narrowed eyes as she puts together her own version of what happened here. A look of pity, frustration, and of understanding soon takes over her eyes the longer she watches Thema.

Solara scans the scene once more, then gently grabs Thema’s blackened wrist. It feels like a rough stone. Heavy too. Thema jolts out of her trance-like state and looks back into the eyes of Solara for a moment. Suddenly, without any warning sign, she starts shrieking hysterically with a horrified look on her face. Releasing a sound like that of a tortured animal. Solara, initially taken aback and unsure what to do, is about to knock her out to shut her up, but then remembers how Aiye would handle this moment if it were her doing this. Reluctantly, she pulls Thema in for a hug.

Thema cries into her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Falling to her knees. Solara drops down with Thema. Still with a straight face, scanning the scene for any thing else, Solara holds her closer and tighter now while Thema’s cries echo throughout the remains of the mountain’s plateau. The sun continues rising.

The thunderous drum strikes once…