STAR-TRAIL BETWEEN US

CHAPTER ONE: VEILED BLESSING

February - [Height of Aquarius]

2655; 79^(10000) A.S.A (After Scripture Ascension)

 Blinding pain jolted through Etanai as a wooden baseball bat made brutal contact with the side of his head. His jelled-back Copper-Brown hair did nothing to buffer the heavy impact. He staggered around the chaotic surroundings, managing to avoid collision with any of the fighters pounding for blood against their opponent. Etanai pulled a trembling hand to his temple and picked up wetness his blurry eyes confirmed to be blood. His shaky legs gave way and he dropped to the sandy floor, resulting in him having to crawl his way to the crevice between the nearest houses. His ears slowly picked up the screams of intense fighting beyond the noisy ring and he squinted a pair of Hazel eyes to focus on the scene – more than fifty men were running about, utilizing sharp metals and guns of all sorts against each other. The streets were vacant of the locals for a reason. He would have never taken this route had he been aware a gang war was taking place here.

“Starblast, Axel! How could you have missed this kind of info?” His distraught gaze dropped to the leather bag in his grip, unyielding like his life depended on it, or in accuracy, the life of someone dear to him did. He tried to shake off the pain and stuck his free hand to the wall as he got back on his feet. “I can’t fail you, aunty.” He murmured past gritted teeth.

The blur had slightly lifted off his eyes and he began mapping out an escape route from this chaos, quickly averting his eyes from the convulsing man with a spilled gut. There were dead bodies littered across the lengthy street as gunshots boomed past the loud gruntings. He soon found a way – a rusty iron gate at medium height between the two houses he was hiding; that was the only barrier between him and his escape to the next street and from this place. He looked down at the bag in his hand. Nothing would stop him from getting this package to Zeke's client; the last step to his goal was riding on this. He was about to climb over it when a gunshot was fired too close to him to be ignored.

“Hey! We’ve got a runaway lamb here!”

Etanai turned around to find two men with contrasting builds blocking the crevice with murderous intent seeping through their shadowed stare. “Sir please, it’s all a misunderstanding. I’m simply passing by.”

The men cracked at their joints and began carefully moving towards him. He felt stupid for expecting any form of plea to work in this kind of situation. Again, there's a reason the street was free of its inhabitants. Not even the corrupt police are willing to interfere in this kind of disruption; so is life here in Stell City's lower district. He would have to show more spine than this if he was to grab that chance at escape.

"Yo! Back the hell off!" He barked out with false bravado and raised the leather bag to the men's approaching faces. “Property of Ighala. Mess with me; you and your family become a thorn in his side." Though this was the first time he'd been stuck in a predicament, Axel had assured him multiple times this would work.

The men revealed a momentary look of amusement before chuckling. “And of what concern is that to us, Errand boy?”

The slight hope in Etanai's heart was snuffed out just like that; another failure his trust in Axel has dealt him. The men ran towards him and he quickly balled his fist in response, landing a good punch below the first man's chin. Etanai, in a variety of senses, was a man of the slums. Though incomparable to the current crisis, this was definitely not his first rodeo. The first man, though muscular, was sent staggering backward with a groan. Etanai wasted no time throwing the bag over the rusty iron gate, prepared to join it when the other man grabbed his cloth from behind and though skinny, managed to slam him back to the ground before stomping an unforgiving feet into his face.

Etanai could taste the iron in his blood; certain he had suffered a broken nose.

“Hey! Leave him to me.” The muscular man had recovered and was sending a glare that promised intense affliction. He gestured to the skinny man. “Go get that bag. Any item from the Ighala gang should be worth a handsome fetch.” He then focused on Etanai and bent down to deliver two solid punches to his face. “You messed with the wrong person, Errand boy.”

Etanai couldn’t see the man’s face through his bloodied eyes as his palms came together in a sad plea. “I’m begging you. I……..I have a sick woman at home. Sir, pl…ease, she won’t survive without me.” He couldn’t tell whether it was blood or tears running down the side of his face.

The man's face morphed into a brief solemnity. "Boy, it's a good thing I don't know you. This is a gang war. Any life I fail to take here is a drop in my pay." He pulled out a pocket knife and made a quick slash along his victim's throat.

The sense of dreadful loss that gripped Etanai was far greater than the pain he was experiencing. He clenched tight palms over his throat as he felt himself choking on air, but it did nothing to stop his pitfall into unconsciousness as he lost blood. The man had missed his lungs; whether it was on purpose was a thought he didn't have the luxury of ruminating over as he felt himself slipping deeper. He could only think about his family as his life flashed beneath stained eyes.

“Etanai, would it be okay if I took care of you from now on?”

“Etanai, this is going to be your new home from now on. Welcome to our family.”

“What do those rotten mouth children mean by calling you an orphan?! Next time they question who your parents are, bring them over. I’d gladly provide a lecture they’ll never forget, free of charge.”

These were some of his most precious memories; the moments that gave him a reason to keep living through the increasing hardship of life in the slums of the lower districts and yet, it seemed this was all he would be getting out of it. This is where it all ends, at age twenty-two.

With that, he finally succumbed to whatever awaited him.

                    ………………………………………………………………………………………………..

“………to thoroughly check every corner for missing body parts…… transporters do their jobs correctly.”

Etanai was not sure what was happening as he struggled to open his eyes. Crimson-stained, he picked up on the unbearable weight on him. With barely any energy in him, he managed to turn his head to find a pair of dead eyes staring right at him. His alarmed eyes immediately scanned around him to discover he'd been lumped in with tens of corpses, slowly rising in a tightly packed rope net. The gang battle must have ended and the corpses were being cleaned up by the city's mortuary transporters. He groaned out in a failed attempt to call out in hopes that any of those civil workers would hear him; he doesn't belong here.

The pulley suddenly began to descend until the load of corpses hit the back of the truck and he could tell they were on the road. What other destination would a pile of dead bodies be moved to? Most of the bodies here with Etanai are society rejects with no one to claim them, and those that do are probably not willing to. Luckily the weight on him was later displaced a bit during one of the numerous road bumps the vehicle dealt with. The roads stretching throughout the lower districts were not known for being smooth after all.

Face glued skyward, Etanai realized the surrounding was getting more and more desolate. This was not the way to any of the burial grounds in the slums; he wasn’t even sure the vehicle was in the lower district anymore. Through the repulsive smell of decaying bodies, he could pick up on the much cleaner air in the atmosphere. It felt weird against his skin and every breath felt cold and brisk against his lung. Though his slashed throat had clotted, he was exhausted and soon slipped back into unconsciousness.

                        ………………………………………………………………………………………

  Etanai woke up to a dark sky; which was proof hours had passed until the truck finally came to a stop.

“Slowly, just a few more. Hold……that’s good.”

 He could feel the vehicle slowly making a turn then backing up, a stop, and then the net was lifted once again. His dull brain refused to ride on his suspicion of what was about to happen; straining to hear the distant voices of what he assumed were the drivers.

“Man! I kinda feel bad for these people.”

“It’s a wasted pity if you asked me. These local terrorists should have expected this kind of end to their oppressive lifestyle. I hope the retribution goddess comes for the rest of those slum denizens.”

“Hush! Are you insane?! You want her creatures to come after us too?! Just dump these corpses and let’s get the hell outta here! I refuse to lose my life in a place like Wraith Valley”

The last sentences in harsh whispers sent an appalling realization through him. He silently cried to the highest gods in the present night stars above to intervene in any way possible as he struggled to move, reigniting the agonizing sensation across his neck. This valley is the unforgiving territory of the goddess of Retribution – a desolate place where corpses of the worst criminals are disposed of. The creatures here are known to inflict incomprehensible forms of torture upon their victims.

The large net is torn open and Etanai drops along with the bodies. For the life of him, he couldn't even scream as he kept falling past a depth where the moonlight refused to touch. The bottom of the valley stretched deeper into the earth. He shut his eyes, waiting for the impact that might finally claim his life, and for a brief second, the idea gave him liberty.

He suddenly let out a grunt as something caught him by the stomach, forcing the breath out of him. His eyes shut open to find a darker shade of black a mere feet below him and he guessed it was the valley floor, one his feet were not touching. A presence much chiller than the surroundings had him turning to his right side to come face to face with a pair of button-shaped eyes. A longer look gave him a rough description of a symmetrical long face with thin lips that stretched an entire half of its face. Soft-looking skin a sleekly cream shade, it stood about 7'0" ft tall.

The sight petrified Etanai deeply and he instinctively delivered a sharp kick to its face, forcing it to let him go. He made no delay as he began to crawl in the opposite direction, not slowing down despite the guttural sound of anger behind him. Unfortunately, he didn't get far before a pair of large paws for feet landed on either side of his head. He turned around to find the creature's mouth agape and a tube stretching out; its open end stuck to the entirety of his face and the sharp hooks around the edges hooked themselves into his skin.

Then came the most intense wave he had ever felt crashing into him.

He was sure all five sensations reporting the brutal ongoing death of his only family was nothing more than an illusion, yet the thick air of blood and the sight of familiar members from the  Ighala gang slowly slaughtering them swiftly bred doubts that yank him into a world of despair.

 In reality, Etanai’s body lay limp on the ground with the creature completely bent over him as its tube of a tongue made a suctioning motion.

                 …………………………………………………………………………………………………

 “Sun-blessed morning to those of you watching on this monumental day. I’m Shannon Whip.”

“And I’m Carter Blair, coming to you live from the wisdom temple’s main gate. And I do agree with you, Shannon, it's truly a blessed day – a day the latest generation of Holy Warriors will walk into the light and take on the prestigious mantle, one numerous predecessors have maintained with great care.”

“Valued words, Carter. Over a thousand trainees were admitted to the temple's school of military, and that was a decade and a half ago. Through the years, we've seen countless children quit the institution due to either being expelled or simply unfit to continue there. There was even a year when over 300 trainees were dropped. Haha! I’ve got to say, the way everything was going, I’m sure I speak for a lot of Stellians and Iginerians when I say I was seriously beginning to lose hope.”

"Yes, until rumors were confirmed early this year that the temple Pillars had ordered the school head instructor to submit the top twenty students who were then announced as the finalists just two days ago. Today, we pray to our Supreme Watcher as these finalists move on to the Star-trail Accordance Trial where they would either be chosen by the God of Scripture or they would be rejected."

“I believe the term is ‘Star-Touched’. According to the records, the fact shows us these star-touched warriors will then possess elemental powers that would reinforce their worthiness to stand beside the Holy Star Symbol.”

"For those in the unknown, which I doubt are much, Eshya Luan, the youngest of the third Pillar's children, was revealed to be a priestess about twelve years ago; marking Elder Tobias' third daughter as the forty-fourth Priestess of seventy-seven holy star symbols in the Wisdom temple's history. I believe she was just ten when she was called to duty by the almighty Celestial. The specifics of her divine gifts though have managed to elude us till this day."

“Well, I doubt we will remain in suspense for much longer once she’s ready to engage the fields with her warriors. I don’t know about you, Carter, but I’m sure a lot of the city and nation people would love to see her in action. The last of such recording we have of the previous Star Symbol is well over two centuries no…….”

There was a few seconds of silence as both reporters listened over their in-ear headphones with quick nods of their heads.

"We've just received word the twenty finalists are about to meet their priestess for the first time before they head off to the location where the Star-Trail Accordance Trial will take place."

“It will be taking place at the same location for the past eight generations.”

The two reporters adorned a tensed expression, their shoulders stiff at the mere mention about to escape their lips.

“Wraith Valley.”