The Corin Chronicles Volume I: The Light and the Dark (26 page)

Now shaking tremendously, Andrew leaned forward, pointing the gun directly at Siroco’s chest, his finger touching the trigger.

“Andrew, NO!” came Karl’s voice from behind him. “Don’t do it! That’s what he wants!”

Unable to take his eyes away from the wounded man, Andrew continued to watch as Siroco laughed and ridiculed him, but his concern remained with Siroco’s left hand and what he potentially had in it. With Karl edging closer, screaming continuously for him to stand down, Andrew took a few steps backward, remembering the dangers that came with shooting Siroco at close range.

Siroco’s eyes seemed to mock him, and the same voice once again invaded his mind, replaying the same taunts. It filled Andrew with rage. He tried to measure how far back he had retreated, unsure of what was considered a safe distance. But then Siroco suddenly thrust his hand out from behind him, and Andrew fired.

Immediately, the same concentrated force field enveloped Siroco. But the blue glow seemed brighter than before. It swept over Andrew, knocking him back. Only a few yards from where Andrew had stood, Karl covered his face and fell straight to the ground.

The light slowly dimmed, and Karl forced himself to his feet. But the sight in front of him brought him straight back to his knees. Andrew lay flat on his back, motionless, with his gun lying a few feet away. Karl lunged forward screaming and held on to his partner’s face, trying to shake him awake. “NO, NO, NO!” he shouted. “This can’t be happening again.”

He continued to shake the motionless body of his young partner, until he heard the rattling of metal just ahead of him. Looking up, he saw the face of Siroco, looking directly at him from the other side of the chain-link fence. He clutched a fresh wound, immediately below his chest.

“Why?” Karl mumbled. “Why do you kill and destroy everything?”

Siroco maintained his stare for a few seconds, grimacing occasionally as he held on to the wound. “My fight is not with you, Karl,” he said. “My cause is much greater, and all who get in my way will meet the same fate. I’m sorry about your losses today, but I have lost also. In war, we lose. I have learned that. Perhaps you need to start understanding that too.” Siroco turned his back on Karl and limped away.

Karl could not find the will to give chase. He remained crouching over Andrew, with a scowl etched on his face. After a time, he felt William’s hands on his shoulders, but they brought him no comfort. He slammed a fist into the ground, and William sat down beside. Together, they sat silently, staring at the motionless frame of their young partner.

Weeks passed, and the days and nights began to blur with one another. Since returning to Chicago, Karl had not left his apartment. He’d barely even moved from his living room sofa. He no longer even heard the television, which had been on for days, and he’d long ago started to ignore any knock on the door or ring of his phone.

Senator Walsh had been calling nonstop since the tragic events in Adelaide. But Karl had refused to talk to him, and his reluctance to divulge everything in his official statement placed him under even more scrutiny. Before Andrew, he had thought there could be no place so dark as the one in which he’d found himself after his family’s murder. But now he knew there was no limit to the darkness that followed Siroco.

The clock had just struck eight p.m. on a cold Monday night, when his phone rang again. The sight of William’s name on the caller ID filled him with contradictory feelings. He always enjoyed hearing the voice of his partner, but he hesitated, suspecting that he was only calling to do the Senator’s bidding. Reluctantly, he put the phone to his ear but did not speak.

“I know you’re there, Karl.” William said.

Karl sighed. “What is it, Agent Montgomery?” he asked. “Walsh told you to call me?”

“No,” William replied. “I just went to see Nancy at the hospital. You may want to pay a visit, too. Show that you care.”

“I can’t face her, not after what I promised her.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Karl. She knows that. But she might start to think otherwise if you continue to stay away.”

“How is he?” Karl sniffed.

“He’s still in a coma. The doctors just don’t know why.”

Karl sighed and breathed heavily.

“Anyway, that’s not why I called,” William said.

“Oh!” Karl’s tone suddenly took on a more excited edge.

“I think we’ve found him, Karl.”

“What!” Karl jumped off his seat. “Where?”

“Los Angeles. This time it’s a ninety-eight percent probability.”

Karl walked to the window and stared at the street lights, temporarily drifting into deep thoughts of revenge. “Make the arrangements,” he said. “We fly tomorrow. And this time, I want him dead.”

Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!

The Holy Bible, book of Isaiah

Author: Unknown, The Second Coming

Generations spun generations. Offspring of those who bore witness to the largest ever intergalactic war found it impossible to avoid the spiraling legacy. The planet Corin, separated by darkness and light, fell from grace with the rest of the universe. Tension soared between the elected leaders of the red planet and those from noble houses who were unwilling to succumb to their rule. It has always been believed that the humans suffering from the unending light would eventually stand up, and renounce Auphora’s judgment, one mocking the very meaning of the word freedom. Five thousand years after the historic battle, many believe that the time for action has arrived.

Licentia pro totus, Freedom for all

Author: Kimono Prichat, The Second Coming

4.1

T
HE
F
ORGOTTEN
P
LANET

A
s clouds filled the skies, a brisk wind stirred, blowing dead leaves in all directions across the desert wastelands. It was a cold and gloomy day, which was rare in the Light World of Corin. The inhabitants of Tustodes—the capital city—were unfamiliar with long spells without sunlight, but they did cherish the arrival of clouds, as an overcast sky was the closest they ever came to experiencing darkness.

As the clouds continued to thicken, the senior members of the high council took their seats to discuss the rapidly diminishing supplies coming in to their planet. The rows of seats inhabited by the council members within the chambers were a few feet below the royal seats, which were reserved for the royal family and their close aides.

Sitting at the head of the table, the elected ruler of Corin, King Oncelot, glanced at his beautiful queen, who sat gracefully beside him. He felt pride, looking at his wife. She towered above his own modest height. Her blond hair was almost white in its glow, a quality that had originally drawn him to her. She still had the power to captivate him, even now, while seated with his senior councilors in the cavernous council hall. He had always felt the room too impersonal, even a bit eerie. And today the dim light through the high, transparent ceilings and windows brought a sense of uneasiness to the king.

As he had always done during previous discussions with his council, Oncelot could not help but dwell on his planet’s tragic history, which led to the brutal divide of his beloved home. Though his kingdom was considered the better half of Corin, he, along with every ruler before him, saw their world as nothing more than a prison, a way of life that continuously felt incomplete. He also felt torn between the conflicting histories of the fallen God of Corin, Baran, who was said to be charismatic and patriotic during the earlier days of his reign, before his descent into death and destruction.

For as long as Oncelot remembered, he had prayed to Auphora, pleading for unity once more. But his prayers had gone unanswered. He felt that the Light World of Corin had lost favor among the gods, as he had believed and been taught while growing up. The fact remained, however, that the Creator of everything gave his ancestors a second chance, and he would not do anything to bring further punishment to his people.

Oncelet felt his wife squeezing his hands tenderly. She was concerned, realizing that her husband’s mind was on other matters. “Is everything all right, my love?” asked Queen Mariam.

“Everything is fine, my darling,” the King replied. “I am trying to focus my mind.” He remained expressionless.

The Queen of Corin continued to fix a gaze on her emotionally charged husband and his little ginger whiskers, which complimented his fiery temperament. Although she dwarfed him in height, his burly upper body was every bit as masculine as it was the day they first laid eyes on each other. She knew that many of the political figures within Corin considered him to be a weak and compassionate man, unsuitable to bring greatness back to Corin.

She too was concerned about his position as King, but her disapprovals were for different reasons. She believed that her husband was a great man. But she also knew that he could be swayed by outside criticisms into making rash decisions, all in the name of restoring Corin to its former glory.

As everyone sat silently in the room, Oncelot realized that his council members had not yet started to look toward him, focusing instead on the door. He also realized that the absence of his wisest counselor, Abaros, had created a massive void. He had long felt that many of those seated around him had begun to see his former right-hand man as the actual leader of Corin—a perception he had desperately tried to change. The fact that Abaros had been one of a few people who had ventured into the Dark World and returned alive left Oncelot with many doubts about himself, along with much jealousy toward his former confidant.

The creaking of the door signaled Abaros’s arrival to the waiting party, and everyone in the chamber suddenly sat up straight and alert, as if their true king had just walked into the room, Mariam thought. Despite the seeming euphoria his arrival brought to the room, she watched as Abaros nullified it with his humble approach to the table. He was an even shorter, stockier man than her husband, at only five foot, three inches. In contrast to the King’s ginger whiskers, Abaros wore a long, silver beard, tied in distinctive knots to prevent it from traversing the floor as he walked. She glared at him as he moved through the room with a self-assured purpose, nodding to each of the council members as he passed them, before arriving at the head of the table, where she sat alongside Oncelot.

“Queen Mariam,” Abaros said. “You grow more beautiful every day. As always, I feel privileged to be in your company.” He bowed.

Forcing a smile, the Queen nodded. “As always, Abaros, your sentiments move me.” The smile quickly retreated.

With all the pleasantries over, Abaros directed his attentions to the King. Following a polite nod, he muttered with the softest of tones, “King Oncelot.” The words barely carried across the room. The King nodded in return and motioned his second-in-command to take a seat beside him.

Seeing the council fully assembled, King Oncelot rose and looked into the faces of each member. “I know why I am here,” he said. “I know why you are all here, but before we start any kind of discussion, I would like someone to stand up and speak freely.” The silence returned to the room. Only the occasional sound of chairs creaking could be heard, as the audience became more restless and anxious. “Is there no one who can tell me why this meeting was arranged?” he asked. “After all, we know that the ridiculous reasons given are not true.” Oncelot slammed his hands against the table.

The silence deepened, turning extremely uncomfortable, until a deep, booming voice echoed back. “I will speak my mind, if my great lord will permit it.”

Oncelot looked toward the back of the room, where his trusted army general sat. “Please, General Kratz, you have my permission.” He sat back down.