Echoes of the Past

Chapter Twenty Three - Part One

James nodded dully, taking in the extent of their problems, the way Sam had listed them like that.

Castan asked for Sam to take the lead, which he did, taking them down an old dirt path that seemed to head back into the desert.

As they descended a hill, James noticed a small group of metal structures in the distance. He determined a few short buildings and a couple of towers, surrounded by the open rocky plains. That must be the outpost.

"Sam," James asked as a thought occurred. "Have you ever seen someone jump that far before? Like that priest did?"

Sam kept his focus ahead. "Never."

The single word troubled James, as did Sam's following silence.

"That priest, as you call him," Castan said. "The Super Oneron, as I call him. He may be neither. What I believe we saw, if you'd humour my simple sunburned mind, was a Red Monk. An actual, living, Enderokkou Monk." His eyes gleamed with excitement.

"The ones that died out thousands of years ago?" Sam asked.

"Well, yes, they're extinct. But that don't mean that one or two can't be running around still."

"Actually I think that's what extinct means," Sam said.

Castan went on, "The Red Monks had powers beyond all others, immeasurable to today's standards. And you saw his red coat."

Sam cocked his head in thought. "It's a nice idea, for sure. And who can say otherwise?"

After a half hour or so they came close to the outpost buildings. A glinting object approached them in the distance, trailing a cloud of dust. As it came closer, James saw it was a hoverbike, ridden by dark a figure.

Sam brought his mousslo to a stop and gestured for the others to do the same.

The hoverbike – long and sleek, unlike the blocky models James was used to seeing in Tyken Town – came to a stop several feet away. It slowly lowering to rest on the ground. It's rider had long dark hair tied back, and he wore a close-fitting blue uniform that showed a hard-muscled frame. A sword was strapped on his belt.

James noticed that Evan had casually unclipped the golden sceptre from his belt, but kept it where it was, so as not to draw attention to it.

"You folk lost? the man asked. He had a casual, unassuming air about him, and he spoke like a local Canarrian, despite clearly not looking like one.

"Captain Khallo is expecting us," Sam said.

The man's expression hardened. Without showing any change, he at once appeared to be a different person, the local persona giving way to a disciplined soldier. It reminded James of when he would see Sam shift from a construction worker colleague to a hardened war hero. "Sam Hawkings," the soldier said, his voice stiff. "I am Corporal Aris Deldantion. We have been expecting you. Although not with company."

"Nonetheless, I'm here," Sam said. "Are my friends and I permitted to enter the outpost?"

The man, Aris, nodded sharply. "Of course, General. You are welcomed to stable your animals in the docking station; the small building beside the southern tower. Someone will be there to take you to Captain Khallo."

Sam nodded back. "You have our thanks."

Aris remained a moment longer, and James felt that there was something unspoken between him and Sam. The soldier cast a look over the mousslo's, perhaps wondering why they hadn't arrived in a ship.

"I will inform the Captain of your arrival," Aris said, initiating his hovercraft's engine and lifting it a couple feet from the ground. He turned the bike and headed back to the cluster of buildings, trailing another cloud of dust behind him.