CRYSTALLUM LOST DREAMS | Fantasy Novel |

Chapter 8 - Part 1

The Seorite drew an arc in the air until it disappeared among the bushes.

The Kharzanian stepped out with two metal spheres the size of an apple in his hand. The yellow energy that went through the armor diverted, passing through the gloves, towards the veins that branch out on the two spheres.

Both globes emitted a high-pitched screech and the soldier threw them towards the supposed target. The rapid explosion shook the ground, uproot the trees, and broke the rail lines.

When the dust cloud cleared, the soldier approached the remains of the explosion. He retrieved the Camiel Seorite and looked around. The helmet disappeared inside the armor, and the expression on his face was half disappointment and half curiosity. The stone suddenly lit up. The blinding light forced him to close his eyes.

At the window, Camiel clenched his fist. Another ring echoed, this time much heavier and more solid than the previous one. On the bracelet made of rope that he wore, another sprout blossomed.

The orange Seorite that the soldier held in his hand became a giant flower of light, its petals were made of pure energy, sharp like razor blades that began to swirl. A sharp scream rose into the air, and finally, silence.

Camiel took the three remaining small crystals from his pocket.

Footsteps from the door on the stairs could be heard. A moment of pause, and then the tip of a blade. A sword surrounded by a green aura spreading from the veins of the metal. The Kharzanian took a step inside. The helmet covered his face entirely, and a bright spot moved at eye level from right to left and vice versa. He looked at the open window, pressed a small button above his ear. "Lieutenant, no trace of the Hozman!" he stated concisely. "The target has escaped the building."

Three faint chimes echoed. Three blades of light had pierced the metal of the armor and the flesh underneath.

Camiel emerged from the closet and the Kharzanian fell to the ground. Three more sprouts had blossomed on the rope bracelet. Only one remained, he thought. He buttoned up his shirt sleeve with a scowl. He approached the soldier's body, who breathed his last with a groan of pain. Camiel knelt down and opened the Cec system compartment. The Seorite's core was half full and bright green.

The surface was far from porous and was the right size to be inserted into the sword. He paused for a moment, weighing the mineral between his doubts. "I have to try it," he whispered, torn.

Holding the Seorite in his palm, he approached the ring to the branches on the hilt, and they grabbed the new stone before returning to their original shape. He closed his eyes and focused.

The whispers manifested themselves peacefully and slowly. Voices so distant that they could not be understood; soon they changed into an unbearable crescendo. Finally, Camiel distinguished one: a high, furious voice was shouting and dazed him.

"There is no time for me to accept, I have to hurry to get out of this situation," he whispered, rubbing his temple. The light ceased and he turned towards the door to go down the stairs.

He left the station, picked up the crystal abandoned at the entrance, and waited under the porch, where the enemy would see him.

"Lieutenant! I know you're out there! I would like to say a few words before spilling more blood," he shouted, "it's just the two of us!" He advanced towards the remains of the level crossing.

The soldier made his way out of the underbrush. The veins of the dark armor pulsed with purple. On his chest was the symbol of the Kharzan. Camiel tightened his gaze, but moved even more slowly.

The soldier's helmet sisappeared and retreated into the small metal gorget. Just over thirty years old, the Kharzanian had a pointed chin and two black marks drawn under his eyes. The end of the lance he brandished was formed by energy blades that vibrated so quickly that they seemed motionless.

Camiel motioned that he would move towards the chest not far away. "I can explain to you how things are," he said.

"Hozman, you have the guts to talk," growled the Lieutenant, "you just killed my men in cold blood."

Camiel snorted. "You aren't completely wrong," he rubbed his leg, his muscles sore from the long run, "but what choices did you give me? I was hunted like a wild animal and acted as such."

"You could have chosen to surrender," the Lieutenant replied sharply, taking a step closer.

"I don't think so," Camiel said with a half-smile. "I'm not that foolish!"

The Lieutenant remained impassive. The Hozman spread his arms while holding the sword and the soldier tightened his guard position.

"Calm down," Camiel showed the palm of his hand and lowered the weapon. "I have nothing to do with the Seorite of Lud, I can give you my word."

The Kharzanian took a step to the side: the flutter of a crow's wings made him jump. "You'll tell my superiors once I've captured you."

"No way," he grumbled. "On the contrary, I propose something different: a possible solution to this standoff." With extreme slowness, he drew a line on the ground with the sword. The Lieutenant extended the spear in defense.

Once done, the Hozman pointed to the ground. "Do you have a family?" he asked in a friendly tone.

The soldier nodded, while a drop of sweat slid down his forehead.

"Both of us know that you have no chance against me!" he explained with confidence.

The soldier's legs stiffened and Camiel continued, he had made a breakthrough. "I only ask you not to cross this line for at least twenty, thirty minutes. This way you can tell your children that you fought against a warrior from the Empire of Hozma and survived." He rose. "Maybe they'll even give you a medal, a commendation or a prize leave. It seems like a good deal, what do you think?"

He would never accept, Camiel knew. But that wasn't his goal. "Pretty good reflexes," he said with a satisfied smile, "but not comparable to mine. And as much as you may have been trained, you've never fought against an Hozman warrior, otherwise you wouldn't have left me the time to study you. You're left-handed and have just returned from a small ankle injury."

"Enough with these stories! Where are the kids and the cargo?" the Lieutenant shouted.

Camiel frowned. "Eh? Which kids?" he lied.

"You know very well. The Lud boys and the Zalesian who are transporting the Seorite." The hands on the spear trembled and the soldier took another step forward.