*****Audio File***** "Chapter 31 - Failed Vanity - Audio File" Special Notes: The above image is lapu lapu, Filipino warrior. As you know, I often pull from bits and pieces of history. Feudal Japan, Sparta, Old West, and so on. Of course by the time I'm done, you should barely recognize my re-imagination of the different historical Earth Cultures. Anyway, the statue in the photo is very much as I would imagine the Hawk Statues in the Hawk Temple Fortress to be, and the warriors attire is almost exactly the way I see the Hawk students attired. [The White Raven, Chapter 31, Failed Vanity] [Prince Mischief’s Fleet, Border of Demonian Solar System] “Have you noticed the condition of these ships?” whispers Ring, leaning close to Vel. “Yes, something isn’t right,” replies Vel. “This technology is easily two-hundred years old.” “Look at this.” Ring runs his hand under his chair and shows Vel the blue powder now covering his fingers where he ran them along the underside of the chair. “This is retardant powder used to protect metal when a ship is put into mothballs - this ship’s been in a scrap-yard,” “I believe it, I don’t think this ship is a Scorpion Fast Attack Ship,” says Vel. “I think it looks more like an old Panther Interceptor, the Panther was the Scorpion’s predecessor, similar design, this ship has been disguised to look like a Scorpion.” Ring leans in closer to Vel and nods his head towards the Bridge. “Look at the crew, see the lines around their eyes, it’s hard to tell age with the Kitsune but my guess is these are all elderly Kitsune.” “Not all of them,” observes Vel. “That one pretending to be the Com-officer is the one quietly giving the orders. I don’t think they want anyone knowing who is the real Captain.” “I don’t know, but stay alert,” warns Ring. “I’m wondering now if Prince Mischief is a rogue prince. I don’t think the Emperor would let a six-year old prince go on such an important mission, even if it was to help his brother?” “It’s not nice to talk about people behind their back,” says Prince Mischief. Ring and Vel calmly turn their heads to the Prince that was on the Bridge a moment ago. “It’s not nice to listen to other people’s conversations,” scolds Vel. Prince Mischief ignores the scolding with a shrug. “You didn’t jump, most people do.” “You’ll need to do better than that to startle a Master Raven.” “I’m not six-years old, not up here,” says Prince Mischief tapping the side of his head. “I tested out at fifteen.” “I am aware you are a prodigy,” says Ring. “But prodigies are tested in two areas, fifteen is your academic age, what is your maturity rating?” Prince Mischief feigns a pouting expression and turns his head away. “Well?” asks Vel. “Nine, okay, happy?” says Prince Mischief. “And your brother?” asks Ring. “Without using his genetic memories he’s just a normal six. I told you, I’m the smart one.” “We would like to speak with the Captain, the real one,” says Vel. Prince Mischief walks around the chairs and leans in towards Vel and Ring. “I’m in charge, not the Captain, he won’t tell you anything,” whispers Prince Mischief. “The answers are outside if you want to know.” Prince Mischief walked back to the Bridge leaving the two Daraians wondering what the cryptic explanation was supposed to mean. Ring glanced out the window, the Prince’s fleet had slowed to normal space. They were close to the edge of the Demonian solar system and it was too dangerous to use TDS here. The debris of wreckage from the war had spread outward during the last six years and required careful navigation to avoid running into something. “I don’t see any answers,” says Vel. “I’ve already put his nonsense out of my mind,” replies Ring. “He doesn’t know how to tell the truth.” Vel tips her head a bit and glances at her mate, Ring has more to say and it’s best just to wait for him to vent his anger. “He doesn’t have an academic rating of fifteen, and his maturity rating certainly isn’t nine. I would say it’s more like eleven or twelve academic and eight maturity, if that.” Ring shakes his head. “No, he is an average prodigy like thousands of other prodigies, he just wants to feel puffed up about himself.” “If the answer were that simple he wouldn’t be flying around in an old Panther,” argues Vel. “I don’t care what the Kitsune are up to,” says Ring. “Let’s go down to the cargo bay and get ready.” Prince Mischief waits until they are gone and pushes open the storage bin he was hiding in and crawls out. He had walked back to the Bridge, and then jumped into the storage bin to listen to their conversation again. Captain Akio gave the young Prince a withering glare when he returned to the Bridge. “What?” asks Prince Mischief innocently. “I’m doing it the way father said to do it.” “He said to get them to Demonia, not play cat and mouse with them,” says Captain Akio. “You weren’t ready for this mission.” Prince Mischief shrugs and plops himself down in the chair next to the Captain. “There’s no princes left, or ships, or soldiers, or farmers, or food. I’m all you got.” “Mischief, you need to take this seriously, we’re dying, we need them to fix Demonia, and for Malice to get the Demonians and the Daraians to forgive us.” “I know my father’s plan,” pouts Prince Mischief. “But I don’t agree, we are still the richest planet, we can buy the food we need.” “Our reproductive cycle is too slow, you know that, it will be a thousand years before we even start to re-populate, and not even your father has enough money to buy food for a thousand years. Not that it would matter, the Raunian farms are too far away, we need the Demonian farms to produce again.” “Invade Cepheus,” says Prince Mischief spinning his chair in circles. The Captain grabs the chair to stop the spinning, and then takes the boy Prince by the arms. “Cepheus belongs to Lord Cyness, the days of invading worlds and conquest is over,” shouts the Captain. “Take your hands off me, I’ll have my father beat you for touching me,” screams the Prince. The Captain shoves the boy back in the chair. Mischief’s eyes flair with that odd red glow of a Demonian and he reaches out and grabs the Captain’s wrist, but he’s a little too slow. The Captain already has his sidearm drawn and shoves it in the boy’s face. “Try it and you’ll be dead before you can jump back in the ship,” warns the Captain. Mischief’s eyes widens and he let’s go of the Captain. “Everyone is always picking on me, I’m only trying to help.” “The only thing you have ever done is interfere with your father’s careful plans,” shouts the Captain. “You are no Prince of the Kitsune, a Kitsune Prince would never dishonor his father as you consistently have.” “I’m telling,” screams Mischief, and then vanishes from the chair. “Should I go look for him?” asks an elderly crew member at the nav-helm. “No, with any luck he’ll pout for a few hours and leave us be,” says the Captain. “Go ahead and tell the Daraians to launch, but check the ship carefully, Mischief is not to go with them.” “We’ve secured a thirty-five foot perimeter around the cargo bay, he won’t be able to get aboard the Dart.” ***** [Hawk Fortress Temple, Hawk Province, Planet Darai] Cody followed the path from the practice sands and past the tall line of statue warriors standing against a wall. Vines with large green leaves covered the walls with thick roots that spread out over the ground. A group of boys were at the far end of the wall cutting at the vines with short machetes. Master Solae told Cody he needed to be dressed as the other boys and to go find Master Auryon in the armory. The boys on the practice sands were bare-chested, wearing only the leather wing-harness that held their glider wings in place, tall laced sandals, shorts under an embroidered loin cloth, and a leather belt and sheath holding a wooden sword to complete the uniform, though some of the boys didn’t have a wooden sword, they had short sticks. One of the boys cutting the vines saw Cody, dropped his machete and bowed. “Greetings, brother, I’m Aro.” “Hi, I’m Cody… I mean I’m Codae.” “The proper way is to say, greetings,” says Aro, correcting Cody. “Oh, I’m sorry. Greetings, brother.” The other boys run over and Cody bows as Aro had. “Greetings, brothers,” says Cody. A tall lanky boy smiles and shakes his head. “No, I’m your cousin, Turae. “I’m your brother, Mola,” says a shorter stocky boy bowing. “Huh? I don’t understand,” says Cody, confused. “Brother, there are three Houses of Raptors,” says Aro. “Hawks, Falcons, and Cassoways, the school is open to any raptor.” “Four now,” says Aro. “Yea, we’ve all been cousins until now, unless of course it’s two Hawks, or two Falcons, or Two Cassoways greeting each other.” Cody looks back and forth between the boys, completely over-whelmed with the suddenness of the greetings and different protocols required. “You’re new, we’ll get you right,” says Aro. “Hawks and Eagles are brothers, Falcons and Cassoways are cousins.” “Oh, okay, thanks,” says Cody. “I thought only Hawks would be here.” “Naw, we’re all Raptor Houses,” says Turae. “It just depends where your family works and lives. My little brother lives with our grandfather in Falcon Province so he can go to the Falcon Temple, but I think this school is better so I live with my father, he works at the airport here in Hawk Province.” “I have to go to the Armory,” says Cody. “Just follow this path around the inner wall of the Temple, you’ll see the Dining area and kitchens, the armory is right next to them,” says Aro. “I hope you get assigned to our barracks,” says Turae. “How will I know?” asks Cody. Turae holds up the edge of his loincloth. “It will be on the loincloth they give you, see this symbol? We’re the Silent Wings Barracks.” “Yea, and you just have to look at someone’s wings to tell what House they’re from,” says Aro, touching one of Cody’s feathers. “Umm… what’s wrong with your wings, why are they brown like a Hawk’s… ewww… what’s this goop on them?” “They made me dye them brown to keep me hidden,” says Cody. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to be you when Master Auryon sees this,” says Aro. “You’ll be getting a bath first thing, and you’ll be lucky if you have any feathers left when Master Auryon gets done with you.” “Codae, tonight they’ll probably give us the standard speech about not giving a new special student any special treatment, which means we won’t be allowed to ask anymore… but…” “Ask what?” “Can you feel your feathers?” asks Turae. “I can feel them, and the wind,” says Cody. “You’re so lucky,” says Aro. “I don’t think he’s so lucky,” says Mola, the short Hawk boy. “It means he’s going to feel Master Auryon’s scrub brush all the more.” The boys laugh and Cody continues on his way. Everyone outside, except maybe at the Eagle Cliffs, were always mean towards him, but the first boys he met had been nice. Cody got lost again and another group of boys found him wandering around the outer wall. “Are you lost, brother?” asks one of the boys. “I’m supposed to go to the armory,” replies Cody. “It is easy to lose your way when your new,” says the boy. “Welcome to the Hawk Temple, go back along this path, turn right at the fighting Hawk statue of Lord Hawk the Valiant, then follow that path around to the statue of Lord Falcon the Sacrifice, take a left, and you’re there.” “Thank you.” “You’re the Eagle,” says the boy. “Words spreading quick that you arrived.” “I’m just Cody… I mean Codae, I keep forgetting I have a new name.” “I heard Master Chief Gaevin is your father,” says the boy. “Yes,” says Cody nodding. “I’m with the Blood Hawk Barracks,” says the boy. “Everyone in our barracks goes to the Blood Hawk Battalion when we graduate. Chief Gaevin was in our barracks when he was a boy.” Cody thanked the boy again and ran back the way he came. The statue of Lord Hawk the Valiant was easy to find, the name was carved in the base, but the statue of Lord Falcon the Sacrifice alluded him. Cody thought maybe he had gone down the wrong path and back-tracked, then took another path and came out in front of a barracks with a sign over it that read ‘Hell Hawks Barracks’. There was another barracks to the left, that one had a sign that said ‘Silent Wings’, and there were more barracks to the right. Cody walked down the line of barracks reading each one. The ‘Blood Hawks were on the other side of the ‘Hell Hawks’, and then the ‘Dark Wings’, the ‘Iron Hawks’ and the last one was the ‘War Birds’. A boy with a cast on his leg was sitting in front of the War Birds Barracks cleaning equipment. Cody approached the boy and bowed. “Excuse me, cousin,” says Cody. The boys wings were obviously Falcon wings. “I’m really lost, I need to find the Armory.” “Forgive me for not getting up,” says the boy. “Easiest way to get there is go up the stairs on the wall behind the barracks, then follow the wall around to the next stairs and you should be there.” Cody thanked the boy and ran behind the barracks to the main wall that wrapped around the fortress. The stairs ran in a circle up the tower to the top, and then followed the walkway on top of the wall. He had to press up against the side of the wall to let a group of boys his age running go past. Cody tried bowing to each of them as they called out a greeting in passing. Cody watched the boys run on and then continued around the wall to the next stair down. The tower had the same kind of stairs as the last one, wrapping around in a circle down to the bottom. There was a building at the bottom and Cody ran around to the front and looked up - Hospital. “What? Where’s the Armory?” Frustration and a bit of panic was starting to set in and Cody took off at a run along a path that ran along the bottom of the wall. The path ran through gardens surrounded by tall hedges with students practicing in each one. Cody was nearing tears and full panic so he didn’t stop to ask for any directions but continued to run. The gardens opened into a larger garden and then he was at the corner of the wall. There was another tower and stairs going up to the top of the wall, but he chose to continue running along the edge until he came to a set of tall familiar gates. Cody was back where he started from, and he hadn’t even noticed he ran right past the practice sands where all the boys were - he had gone in a big circle all the way around the fortress. Master Solae was walking towards Cody and motioned for one of the boys to follow him. Master Solae was going to have one of the boys hand carry him to the Armory like he was just a little boy who couldn’t find his way. All the other boys would laugh at him. Cody got mad and shouted. “Does anyone know which way the Armory is?” Every boy on the practice field pointed a different direction. “Huh? They were all telling me the wrong way from the start, why?” Cody’s anger flared and he bent his knees, spread his wings, and shot up into the sky with an angry screech before Master Solae could stop him. Cody stopped about five-hundred feet above the Fortress and banked around in a gentle circle, studying the ground. “Okay, there’s the iron gates, and that’s the place where I met the first boys, and there’s the statue of Lord Hawk the Valiant… Is that the statue of Lord Falcon I couldn’t find?” Cody continued circling the Fortress. “There’s the inner Temple, and there’s the barracks, and the wall I ran on, the stairs… oh, there’s the Hospital, and those gardens. And… I know where everything is… but… oh… those buildings right there, that’s the only place I haven’t been.” Cody circled the Fortress two more times thinking, he knew where everything was, but he had only just got here. Cody screeched again, pulled his wings in tight and dived for the only spot in the Fortress he hadn’t been. Cody continued his dive until he was almost at the ground and then beat his powerful wings to slow down, and landed gently in front of a building - a Hawk Priest was waiting in the doorway. Cody looked up at the sign above the door - ‘Armory’. “The other boys must like you, more than a few new boys have found themselves outside the walls wandering around lost in the apple orchards,” replies Master Auryon holding up a scrub brush. Cody’s eyes widen and Aro peeks his head out from the door of the Armory. “Sorry, Codae,” says Aro. “You might as well get it over with so we can find out which Barracks you choose.” “I get to choose?” asks Cody. ***** [290 Miles from Eagle Cliffs, Struthio Desert] The brutal sun beat down on Rip as he continued to crawl across the desert. Rip hadn’t grown up on Demonia and had no idea how far a Demonian could run. He had no way of knowing the furthest distance any Demonian had ever run was 392 miles, or that he had broken that record and run 427 miles, and then another 13 miles crawling. Even Demonians had a limit. The water flasks were empty and discarded many miles back, he had never drank so much water in such a short time before, but the torturous run through the desert had taken it’s toll, Rip was dehydrated, a very odd thing to happen to a Demonian. He had over-estimated what he could do. He might have been able to rest during the heat of the day and run at night, if it hadn’t been for the dogs. They looked a little like dogs, but with shorter hind legs and long front legs that didn’t seem to match their bodies. Every time he had stopped to rest the dogs had come and forced him to either fight or run. They were trying to exhaust him. He handled them easily at first, but exhaustion had set in and each battle was becoming more difficult. The last battle had nearly been the end. The dogs swarmed him and one had finally sunk it’s teeth into his right leg. He had barely fought them off, but now running wasn't an option anymore. He was trailing blood behind, and getting weaker with each mile. The sun would be down soon, at least the heat would let up. But, the next battle would be the last. Rip could here the short angry barks of the dogs gathering, time to find a place for a final stand. He had tried his best, and failed. Rip looked around for a place to defend from, but there just wasn’t any good spots. He gathered some rocks around him to throw, he might be able to hold them off for awhile. The dogs didn’t wait for the sun to go down, they must have decided their prey was weak enough now. The dogs rushed in and Rip got to his knees and threw the rocks. Rips aim was still good and the first dogs didn’t even have a chance to yelp, they just fell over, their skulls crushed under the power of Rip’s throw. The pile of rocks disappeared and then was gone. A larger dog rushed at Rip, and then something flew past Rip’s head and hit the dog. The other dogs backed away and Rip crawled over and picked up the object that had hit the dog. It looked a little like a wooden sword, but not a sword. It was perhaps three-feet long, slightly curved along it’s length, and had a hooked curve at the end. The thing was shaped a bit like the letter ‘L’. “This isn’t a sword, I think it’s a type of throwing weapon. I saw something like this in the Museum of Natural History on Demonia. It looks like a Kylaen, the ancient weapon of pre-historic Demonians.” The weapon might not be a sword, but it would do as one. Rip looked around for who had thrown it, but the desert was just as barren as it had been. The dogs rushed in again and Rip swung the weapon again and again until his arms ached and his vision blurred from loss of blood. Rip fell back on the sand, exhausted. The dogs would come and finish him now. He stared up at the darkening sky, the sun was down and the stars coming out. He searched for the Daemon Constellation where his home world was located. “There you are,” whispered Rip finding Daemon the Warrior’s hunting belt and the star in the center - the Demonian solar system. Rip closed his eyes and heard a warbling sound, a hollow lonely sound rolling over the desert. “The Dragon’s coming for me,” whispers Rip. The empty hollow sound activated a deep genetic memory from a pre-historic time on Demonia when his people were barely just forming tribes. Rip opened his eyes. The sound was all around him now. He searched the genetic memory… the sound was made from the first musical instrument his race invented and was used for tribes to communicate. It was a long hollow tube that you blew through to make the sound - a Daiger, yes… the ancient Demonians called them Daigers. But the name had changed, he couldn’t find the modern name of the instrument in his memories. Rip looked at the wooden throwing weapon. Kylaen, that was the ancient name of this weapon, it’s called a Kylie now, and nobody on Darai has ever used a throwing weapon. The Daraians’ wings get in the way of using throwing weapons. The dogs rushed again, but whomever had thrown the first Kylie threw another, and then the air was full of the spinning throwing weapons. Rip tried to stay sitting up, but he was too dizzy and lay back down. The dogs were gone, and then people were around him. He tried to focus through the blackness that was swallowing him. They looked like Demonians, but not Demonians. Rip fought to focus. They were much smaller than Demonians, and didn’t have horns or tails. Rip turned his head to the side, and just before he blacked out saw cloven hooves like his. It wasn’t possible, all vertebrate humanoid species in the known worlds had evolved the dual tibia and fibula attached to a highly evolved jointed foot, even the amphibians. Only the humanoid-reptilian Demonians were the exception with the massive femur and metatarsal ending in a cloven hoof, or coffin bone, but here they were, another species evolved like the Demonians. Rip blacked out.