Wednesday, June 22, 2016

The King's Challenge #336

TKC 336

Swiftly we have an escort flying on either side of our shuttle; standard practice when the king is aboard. Unfortunately it paints a massive target on our tiny hull and we are soon dodging missiles, while our escort fights back. One shuttle explodes and Enris swears foully. We are not about to return fire, though; our task is to reach ground no matter what happens in orbit.

The dry plains soon rush towards us. Silver glints reveal the snaking rivers, while the growth near the water is highlighted as green lines. To the north Massin’s great ranges beckon, while the plateau’s height is an earthy smudge to the east. Our pilot goes in fast and low to skim the sands, thereby forcing the enemy to take a wider path. In doing so, they are open to attack and our escort immediately takes advantage. Fireballs accompany our swift passage over desert scrub.

Shuddering assails our shuttle. “We are too low,” the pilot mutters.

“We will survive shudders,” I say. “Stay the course.”

No further words are spoken as the pilot concentrates on trajectory. We skim hardy bushes and giant boulders in a wide swirl as the shuttle heads west towards the mountains surrounding Arc. Skirmishes between Ilfin shuttles and Glonu flyers create a veil of dust and fire between us and those mighty peaks.

The battle for Massin is in full flight.

Horses rear in our path as we approach a mighty herd. Great teeth snap the air as fear overcomes them, and then they are galloping south as one as if demons pursue them. We are the demons indeed; us, and the Glonu. That fleeing herd must be the horses the Messengers released to the plains. I pray they survive.

Three shuttles remain with us and they begin the upward clamber to clear the sky for us. We follow and soon the first peaks pass below to reveal the paradise that is Arc’s great protected bowl.

Arc is no longer paradise.


Arc burns.


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