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This is an archived fan fiction, meaning that its content has not been edited in over a year, or it was a user request. It is not to be edited anymore unless specified otherwise. |
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Prologue[]
Sophie and the rest of her friends were murdered by unknown suspects, and the Lost Cities is in chaos. As the Neverseen are on the loose, the Council can’t come to a collective decision fast enough to save their people. Out of the chaos, the vampires rose to supremacy, under the rule of Imperial King Dragos Vanderthorn. They killed the majority of the Councillors, and drove out the ones they didn’t. The vampires ruled for twenty years, before King Vanderthorn drew ill. The vampires decided to replicate Project Moonlark, by using the DNA of King Vanderthorn and an ogre. The experiment was a success, and Prince Akbar Vanderthorn was born. The most powerful elf ever. When he grew older, and Dragos died, he became King Akbar Vanderthorn. Akbar stormed all of the Cities, taking many of the citizens captive. The ones that escaped, ran to their own base they established somewhere Akbar couldn’t find. Akbar started the Silver Dynasty, and the escapees of the now destroyed Lost Cities formed a rebellion called the Eternal Light. When Akbar has a child, will he side with his father and become the new leader of the Vampire-Ogre villain alliance, or rebel against everything he’s trained for, because of the person he loves?
Chapter One[]
PERSPECTIVE: Haley Gallegoff
I hear the pouring rain outside. The rocky floor below me is hard and icy. The whipping winds scream past my ledge in the mountain. I sit up. Where I sleep is a small six-foot long, four-foot wide crevice carved into the rock of the Frost Mountains. The crevice sits fifty feet above the ground below.
I check that the rope is still tied to the crevice, and it is. I grab onto the rope and swing myself out of my sleeping space. I begin to climb down the rope.
The string burns my numb fingers, the fierce cold wind biting at my jacket. The whole time, I have the severe fear of falling, as my hands barely don’t slip.
I finally reach the bottom, and the wind nearly knocks me over. I look out at the giant crystal barrier that was still being built. It was supposed to protect us from the Dynasty, but I’m not sure if ten feet of solid crystal will protect us from ogre-vampires. I’ve never seen them face-to-face, but I’ve heard they’re terrifying.
I turn to the giant cave in the face of the mountain. The many people of the Eternal Light bustle around with rush, fixing up the ships. We must fly in high-tech ships to avoid being tracked by the Dynasty. Lightleaping isn’t safe like it once was. Nothing is anymore.
I was born in Eternalia, the grandest City of them all. When I was two, King Akbar destroyed the city, and killed everyone I knew. I am lucky the Eternal Light has accepted me here.
I run to the end of the cave. It takes me five minutes to reach it. The line is not long, since most workers already are working by now.
I take my rations from the stone counter at the end of the cave. A root and two weeds. The harvest is slow, and some workers don’t even get as much as I do to eat. It’s hard to grow crops here in the frosted lands, but I’m told it’s the only place the Dynasty cannot find us.
We have all the gnomes from the Lost Cities on our side, along with about 1000 elves. Everyone else is either against us or has died along the way.
I eat the two weeds quickly, and then begin to gnaw on the root, sucking all of the delicious juices from it before I eat it.
I reach the middle of the cave, where I mainly work. In the lot today is a T-78. They’re rated in a weird way. The Z grade of a ship is the best, an A is the worst. The number is the model number, and 100 is the best possible one, 1 the worst.
My partner, George, is already hard at work, and I can see the sparks flying everywhere.
I swallow the last of my root and advance to the worktable, examining the parts he has laid out.
“Hey, Haley!” George calls. He turns, on his stool. He has already taken one of the big metal plates on the side from the ship and seems to be working on the right wing motor. I may be no Technopath, but I know my stuff. George, on the other hand, is a Technopath. George, on the other hand, is a Technopath. He’s got short dark messy hair that’s got grease in it and has clearly not been combed in a long time. He stands at around 5’5”, with tan skin and a regular mischievous smile. He’s wearing coveralls covered in grease.
“Hi George,” I say. “What seems to be the problem with the ship this time?”
George screws a few screws back into place that might have been askew. “Apparently, this ship was used in a spying mission on the Dynasty. Before they reached the empire, the right wing’s motor stopped working, and they couldn’t fly straight, nearly crashed. They were luckily able to haul it back here without too many scratches…it’s fixable.”
The T-78 has a rather long skinny triangular shape for the main body, with two giant curving wings, both with missiles attached. It’s used mostly for speed flying, so if one of the wing motors sparks out, that’s a big problem.
“So, what can I do?” I ask.
George looks around. “You see that little box there? There’s a bunch of wires and functions inside. Open it, maybe you can figure out what’s wrong. I’ve got to fix one of the gas pipes inside of the wing.”
I walk up to the raiseable metal platform George had raised to be at the right height. I begin to unscrew the screws to open the greasy metal box. I can see my reflection in the grease. My pale face, black hair, put up in a high ponytail, and dark blue eyes. “Why’d you get up so early?”
George had grabbed a giant flask of gas and was now climbing onto the top of the wing. He pats the metal. “The ship. Heard it land, they called me in.”
“How long ago was that?” I ask.
George reaches the top of the wing and starts taking off small metal plates screwed into it. Then he counts on his fingers absentmindedly. “Maybe an hour ago?”
“I could’ve helped, you should’ve woken me up,” I say.
“Well, there’s no way you’re getting me to go outside the cave, especially to climb such a long rope,” George says. “I seriously can’t believe you sleep up there. Doesn’t it get cold?”
“I guess,” I say. That was an understatement, but I don’t like making big deals out of little things. “So, why did they need to go on the spying mission with this ship anyway?”
“Well, they were hoping to maybe kill the Prince,” George says casually as he pours the gas into the right section of the wing.
I finally open the box, and there are torn wires, with dark fluid on the bottom. The smell that comes from it is putrid. “I think something definitely went wrong in this box, George. It is literally, all broken.”
George slides down from the top of the wing after patching up the metal plates. He throws the empty bottle of gas toward the trashcan but fails by a foot or two. “Alright, I’ll check it out. One sec.”
He rushes over to the worktable, grabbing supplies.
“So, what did you mean by ‘kill the Prince?’” I ask.
“Look, Akbar’s getting old,” George explains as he grabs the right pliers. “If they kill his son, no one can inherit the throne when he can’t lead anymore. Thus, their empire would fall, we would win. Pretty simple, really.”
“Wait, Akbar has a son?” I ask.
“You didn’t know that?” George asks, turning to me with wide eyes. “He’s finally coming of age, he’s going to be the new king of the Dynasty in a month.”
“Really? What’s his name?” I inquire. I’m really surprised I didn’t know Akbar had an heir, that was a big deal.
“His name?” George looks at me with a smirk. “London. And I’m pretty sure he could kill every single one of us pretty quickly.”
Chapter Two[]
PERSPECTIVE: London Vanderthorn
Coming October 14t!