“Saudaukar,” Scor said, sounding more like a human then an Emperor. “Don’t worry about me, I can fight. Protect my sister, don’t let anyone hurt her.”
The Sardaukar complied silently, walking into a tight circle around Godiva.
“We. . .I will die before they take you,” Scor said, holding his sister’s hand.
Godiva was silent with awe, but only for a moment. “If I die today, know I love you brother.”
“And I love you.”
The two embraced, but were interrupted by another bomb rocking the palace walls, dust flowing from the ceiling.
Sonnu. . . . .ran.
He had never known speed or release like this, he had never known a high like this. He knew who he was in this moment, he knew why he was here, knew who his father was.
I am the fastest thing alive.
He ran up the wall of the palace wihtout a second's hesitation-- no time for hesitation.
He saw the turret, almost before the light hit his eyes he had spun through it. It split like an egg, and before the debris hit the ground, Sonnu had cut through four more. Sonnu realized he was holding his breath, breathed in, realized his vest was gone, he looked down, his shoes were worn to nothing. He was naked, free, the air burning by him at unlimited velocity. He knew now, what Scor denied him, this speed, this freedom, everything he was and more. Scor could never supress this, he could never snuff it out.
Never.
“Sonnu’s got the turrets!” Spectre said. “Come, my ancestors! Let’s give a knock and see who’s home!”
Thunderhawk flew in close, as the Brotherhood stood close together. They focused their combined Chaos Energy on the massive stained-glass window. It began to vibrate violently.
Scor looked at the window, drew the massive bluesteel sword, held his flintsword to his breast. He stared at the window as it vibrated and shimmied, then shook, rattling horribly, the room shaking from the massive energy. Scor betrayed no fear, scowled.
“Do not forget this day,” Scor said. “History will remember our bravery. We will die a legend today.”
The window shattered.
Battle is not something to be desired. It is horrible. Sometimes it is a release for rage, for hate, and a chance for revenge. This battle is the most dangeous kind.
-Lara-Su
“A Father’s Wisdom”
Sabre was foolish enough to go ahead.
Scor mercilessly shot him in the chest. He dropped.
Sojourner took the initiative, firing a blast of Chaos Energy into the flintsword, superheating it. The second load ignited with the safety down, the weapon exploding in Scor’s hand.
“You’ll pay for that, Guardian,” Scor said, the pulse rifle aiming at Spectre.
“First you’ll pay for your crimes,” Amy said, holding her hand towards Scor. He began to crumple, baring his teeth, as Amy attacking his mind.
Scor Struggle to speak “Get. . . out. . .of. . . my. . . mind, WITCH!” At the last word, fire erupted from his shoulder cannon, striking Amy center-mass.
“AMY!” Knuckles yelled, charging forward. Scor swung at him with the massive sword. Knuckle rolled under it gracefully, reaching Amy.
Locke leaped forward, kicking the shoulder cannon in mid-jump and smashing it. Scor retaliated, backhanding Locke with his free hand. Locke flew into the throne, tipping it backwards.
Remmington pulled out a handgun but Scor was on top of him in a second, slicing the end of the gun off with a single swipe of his gauntlet claw.
He quickly brought up his sword arm and took a swing at the charging Thunderhawk, it connected at his left elbow sending the lower half of his arm spiraling in the air leaving a trail of gore.
Spectre grabbed the blade with his steel-lined gloves, Scor tossing him back with his massive strength. Spectre recovered, firing another Chaos blast as Scor rolled out of the way.
As Scor recovered, Sojourner grabbed him from behind, pinning his sword arm against his back. Remmington charged but Scor pushed him back with a free leg as he struggled with Sojourner.
Knuckles flew in, delivering a sledge-hammer blow to Scor’s temple, his barbed hands tearing though Scor’s fur and flesh. Knuckles grabbed Scor by his long white hair as Sojourner released him, this time planting a fist in his open stomach, knocking the wind out of him.
Scor crumpled to the marble floor, out of breath. He propped himself up on a hand.
Knuckles kicked the hand from under him and kicked him in the throat. “Stay down if you know what’s good for you.” Knuckles said. “You'rd lucky Amy’s alive.”
“Drown. . .in my blood. . .traitor” Scor gasped out.
“You killed my son,” Knuckles said.
“Your son. . .crossed me.” Scor gurgled.
Knuckles nodded his head. “He showed true valor in doing so, tyrant.”
At this time Sonnu walked in from the platform, coming down from a speed-high, joined by some of the Feydakin who managed to climb the building after defeating the aparrently over-rated Saudaukar.
Sonnu saw the Emperor being lifted from the ground by Remmington and King. He glanced at Scor’s thigh, where an extra dagger was sheathed. Sonnu looked at Sabre being helped up, a shoulder wound, he’d live. Thunderhawk was wrapping a torn piece of his tunic around his severed arm, he would be fine, short a limb, but fine. Locke’s face was smashed, bloodied from the blow, but again, he would live. Amy’s Sisterhood was crouched around her, saying prayers, a smoking plasma wound on her stoamch. Sonnu rushed to her.
“How is she?” he asked Mina.
Mina nodded her head with a smile.
“Mom...”
“Don’t succomb to hate for him Sonnu. . .” Amy said weakly, reading Sonnu’s thoughts.
Sonnu gritted his teeth, focused on the knife, on Godiva who was still sitting silently in the room surrounded by four Sardaukar. Sonnu roared, bashing though the robots, demolishing them quickly and cleanly. He zipped past Scor, drawing the Emperor's small knife, and rushed back over holding it to Godiva’s throat.
“Brother!” she squealed.
“Godiva!” Scor yelled, being pulled back by his captors.
Sonnu spoke though clenched teeth, scowling madly. “You took Rull, the only person that meant anything to me, and you tried to take my mother,” He pushed the knife on Godiva’s throat, and she shrieked as Sonnu drew a shallow cut. “Now I’m gonna take what’s special to you!”
“Sonnu, no! You're better then him!” Knuckles shouted.
“No,” Sonnu said. “This is the only way. He’s gotta pay!”
“STOP!” King said.
Sonnu was stunned. This was the first time he'd heard the robed animal speak. “Who says?” he asked though his rage.
King pulled off his hood, goggles, and disconected the faceplate to reveal massive scars, the fur burned from the right side of his face, parts of his cheek burned away. Beneath the scars and shaggy fur was the noble gaze of the Acorn kings.
Sonnu had no doubt who it was.
“King Elias Acorn says.”
Sonnu dropped the knife, and Godiva ran to her brother, holding him.
“I’m sorry, your Majesty,” Sonnu said it and meant it.
King Elias laid a hand on Sonnu’s shoulder. “It was hard for me not to let you.” Elias said. “But we must never become what he is. We must never submit to hatred, as my dear St. Amy would say.”
King Elias walked over to the throne, his black robes flowing behind him like a royal cape, his sword glimmering like a sceptor. He flipped the throne back up with his foot, brushed a bit of broken stained glass, and sat on it as if he never left it.
“I’ll take my seat back, Scor,” he said. “Thanks for keeping it warm for me.” Elias smiled, his handsome countenance still a factor beyond his scars.
The Feydakin bowed, the Brotherhood bowed, the Sisterhood and Amy bowed, Sonnu bowed. Even Godiva fell to her knees in submission. The only ones left standing were Scor and Remmington, who had placed handcuffs on the ex-ruler and was holding him.
“We will never bow.” Scor whispered weakly, still referring to himself in the imperial manner. “Kill us now Elias, because we will never bow.”
Elias motioned for the crowd to stand. “I anticipated this,” he said. “I was hoping you would die in the battle, but now I have a problem. An Acorn king has never taken a life in cold blood, And I don’t plan to break that tradition. But I can’t put you in the dungeon, since most of the people down there are your enemies. You’d be dead in a matter of minutes. I can’t release you where you might do more harm, nor can I challenge you fairly in ritual combat while you'er so weak from the battle.”
“So what will you do with us?” Scor smiled.
Elias sighed. “Well, the Brotherhood have a prison method that will let you live out the rest of your days in a sphere just big enough to stand in. You’ll live, as in you’ll be alive, but you will never see freedom.”
Scor elbowed Remmington in the stomach, running to the ledge just outside the shattered window. “That is no way for an Emperor to die!” He darted a quick look down. “Let legend and history show that today I, SCOR ST. JOHN, die not because a farce of a king demands it, but because I choose it!”
Scor threw himself from the ledge, silently fell through space. He heard his sister’s shriek as he fell, felt the air caressing him as he closed his eyes.
I will never bow.
Impact.
Darkness.
I remember the day when I heard of the fate of Scor St.John. He flung himself thirteen stories to his death to avoid imprisonment in Haven, a wise choice considering the nature of Haven’s prison. Scor’s reign was over.
I heard the story of heroism of Sonnu, charging the turrets, destroying them. How my father and my grandfathers fought bravely against the corrupt Emperor. How he almost killed St. Amy and how the disguised King Elias returned to the throne. Some say Scor killed himself to avoid King Elias, who was the only man who he failed to kill on the first try. Of corse King Elias will always wear his scars as a reminder of how dastardly Scor really was.
Scor was buried in his armor, his few supports erecting a small shrine. His sister Godiva was exiled to Downunda, where she would wander without slaves and chocolates and manicures. It’s a wonder she’s still alive.
The whole of Mobius was celebrating. King Elias called for a week-long celebration on the Island and all of Mobius in the name of freedom. Parades were held, heroes of the Feydakin weere honored in their hometowns across Mobius, the entire world felt as if a weight had been lifted from its shoulders.
However, I never celebrated. Every day I wandered from my den to sit on the edge of the island, waiting, waiting for a promise to be kept.
It was three days before I saw Sonnu’s shuttle apear in the distance, and my heart almost beat out of my chest. The legend, the hero, the fastest thing alive, my Sonnu. He had kept his promise to return to me.
I remember running up to him almost as fast as he ran to me, wrapping my arms around his neck and giving him a big embarrasing kiss right in front of Remmington. I was paying Remington back for all the times he and his wife Tiffany made me feel lonely, like I was the only one on the Island without someone. Now I had someone. I knew we had great days ahead of us, and great adventures.
But of course, that’s another story.
-Lara-Su
“A Guardian’s Diary”
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