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Vines crawled on the outside of the ziggurat, which was built with opal-colored, marble slabs. Many of the giant slabs were etched with rows of strange, glowing glyphs. Matthew entered the ziggurat and walked through a hallway lit with tiki torches. He was surprised to find rooms that had operating tables with multiple straps, tanks, and tubes. He noticed a device that looked like it was designed to be strapped to someone's skull. Matthew was drawn to a room with large, flat screen displays hanging on the walls. They were connected to a computer console and keyboard.
Matthew reviewed the content of one of the flat screen displays: “2015-11-26 Log Entry - Analyzing Subject 6875...Unpacking unconscious data feed...Validating delta wave checksum...PROCESSING...001851CBE67F...001C42C0F31E...001C427DA049...” Someone is scraping data from unconscious minds. They're probably scanning sleeping spirits. Frightened, Matthew rushed out of the ziggurat. As he got out, he saw five suspicious, awakened men heading up the stairs, two of them were dragging a sleeping spirit body. The scrappy-looking scoundrels were wearing leather tunics and armed with pistols and daggers. One of them looked like an old pirate with eye patch and all. After seeing Matthew, the pirate quickly activated a device that he grabbed from a pouch on his belt, and a large barrier encased the ziggurat.
“Looks like we've caught ourselves a live one,” the pirate said to his crew. He turned to Matthew. “Don't even think about trying to exit, the disruptive field won't let you to escape.” The thought of exiting had not occurred to Matthew until the pirate mentioned it. Matthew tried to concentrate on his room and a sharp pain trashed his head, preventing him from focusing on it. The bandits laughed when Matthew buckled in pain.
“Only a noob would come to Pirate's Temple guildless and unarmed,” one of the brigands said, bellowing with laughter.
“How in the hell did a noob get here?” Another one of them asked in amazement.
“It doesn't matter, lads. We finally have some fresh data,” the pirate said. Matthew took a moment to calm himself down. The data thieves' awkward speech pattern amused him, helping him gather confidence. He did not know how he was going to defend himself, but he was no longer intimidated. These clowns want to scrape my mind? I don't think so.
“Sorry guys. No one is hacking my mind. I don't care who you scrubs think you are,” Matthew said, rising to his feet.
“Aware of our operations, are ye? It doesn't matter. Grab him!” the pirate commanded, as one of the robbers lunged at Matthew.
The attacker seemed to move in slow motion, as Matthew easily side-stepped him, and spun into a jumping crescent kick that nailed him in the back of the head. Another ruffian thrust his dagger at Matthew which he easily blocked with a circular movement of his right arm. Matthew rolled the back of his hand over the assailant's advancing wrist, grabbed it, twisted it, and forced him to release the weapon, as Matthew struck him with his left fist. Matthew darted toward another outlaw bashing him in the chin with an elbow. A spinning back-fist took out another one of the predators, leaving the pirate as the last one standing.
Despite having no battle experience, Matthew seemingly had access to all of the combat knowledge that he had observed through martial arts cinema and video games. His intuition had translated into real fighting ability. His spirit body moved at the speed of his thoughts, which were much faster than his opponents. And I'm the noob? Matthew had never felt so alive.
The pirate stepped back and unloaded multiple shots from his pistol into Matthew's chest, driving him backward. Initially excruciating, Matthew's wounds decreased in pain as he concentrated on them. The other robbers got back on their feet and started shooting Matthew with their pistols, pelting his back. Matthew reeled in pain and dropped to the floor. He clutched his chest as he sensed that his spirit body had lost much of its volume. He worried about what would happen to him if it lost all of its volume.
“Stop! Hold yer fire! He'll exit if he loses all of his vitality!” the pirate shouted. The gunmen holstered their weapons and approached Matthew with sneering, cruel expressions. An elderly figure rushed out of a nearby cluster of trees and lunged at the thugs. He nailed them with a series of rapid punches and kicks. His limbs blurred with a speed that did not give them time to re-arm themselves. The elderly man beat them until they were broken and incapacitated. He paused for a moment and stroked his long, white chin plait while looking curiously at Matthew.
“You must be new here.”
* * *
The mysterious warrior extended his arm out to Matthew, helping him get back on his feet. He wore blue, silk robes lined with gold. His wrinkled face seemed battle-hardened as if he had been seasoned by dozens of wars. He had piercing, cerulean-blue eyes.
“Victor,” he spoke, nodding his head in greeting.
“Matthew. Thank you for helping me out. I got so caught up in the moment that I didn't even consider disarming them.”
“Oh? And how would you have done that?” Victor asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don't know. I probably would've just winged it,” Matthew answered. Victor chuckled.
“It's clear that you have a warrior's spirit, but that isn't enough to get by in a place like this. Do you know what they planned to do to you?”
“With the equipment that I saw in the ziggurat, I assumed they wanted to hack my mind.”
“Yes. These thieves gather data from sleeping minds, but it's encoded and practically unusable. That's not the case with awakened minds, which are easily decoded. They could've used the data from your mind to steal your identity,” Victor explained. He paused for a moment and viewed his surroundings. “How did you get here?”
“I was exploring beyond Callisto and I found a portal,” Matthew answered. Victor looked at him with an inquisitive look in his eyes.
“Ah, so you're able to recognize rifts. I take it that you're going to explore this world?” Victor asked.
“Yes. I'm trying to figure out what this world is. Is there anything that you can tell me about this place?” Matthew asked as he patted the dust off of his hoodie.
“An understanding of this world cannot be obtained through a simple explanation. You have to discover the nature of this world for yourself. In that sense, you have the right idea by exploring. However, you need to learn how to defend yourself if you're going explore.”
“You're right,” Matthew conceded, perplexed by Victor's cryptic answers. “Can you teach me how to fight?” he asked. Victor let out a raspy laugh.
“I'm no teacher. If you want to learn how to fight, I suggest that you find the Brawler's District in Callisto,” Victor said, as he faded away and disappeared, almost in mid-sentence. Matthew scanned the area in awe but could find no trace of Victor. What a strange old man. Matthew stepped out of the disruptive field and exited back to his room. The excitement that he had experienced would have normally kept him awake for a few hours, however, the fight left him exhausted and he slept almost immediately after returning to his room.
The next day, Matthew focused on Callisto and created a rift to it in his bedroom. When he entered it, he noticed that his spirit vitality had been completely restored. After searching Callisto for a while, he located the Brawler's District. There, he saw a large group of people gathered in a circle, surrounding two combatants. Matthew jumped on top of one of the nearby buildings in order to get an isolated, top-down view of the fight. Matthew carefully observed the fighting styles of both combatants, taking note of their style's strengths and weaknesses. When the fight was over, the winner remained in the circle, and a new contender entered to challenge him. This went on and on, as people in the circle each got their turns to enter into combat at the center of the circle.
Matthew spent the next few days simply observing the Brawler's District fights. After watching a fight, he would spend time in a secluded area, emulating the moves he had observed on a training dummy that he had created with his thoughts. After he felt that there was nothing else that he could learn by observing, Matthew stepped into the
fight circle himself.
The majority of Matthew's opponents in the circle seemed to move at a snail's pace. Matthew could have easily ended every fight in a single move, but he was determined to learn as much as he could from every fight. He would even let his opponent's score hit on him, just so that he could scout how they would complete their attack combinations. At times, Matthew purposely threw uneconomical attacks to see how his opponents defended against them. Matthew forced himself to mirror his opponent's fighting style in every encounter. When he was comfortable with his proficiency in a particular fighting style, he would quickly end the fight in one or two attacks.
It did not take long before Matthew had defeated the best fighters that frequented the brawling circle. Many of the brawlers admired him. Others resented him and branded him as an arrogant show-off. A large group of resentful brawlers ganged up on Matthew and attacked him. Matthew was grateful for the chance to test his skills, as he beat them all down as if they were nothing more than mere nuisances. Victor, appearing out of nowhere, caught the tail end of Matthew's encounter.
“I see you've already outgrown the Brawler's Society,” Victor said candidly.
“You may be right. I haven't learned anything new in a while. Thank you for leading me here, by the way. I've learned quite a bit from this district.” Matthew said, surprised to see Victor again.
“Good. I think it may be time for you to test yourself against a real master.”
“Yes! An actual challenge would be nice,” Matthew said excitedly, yet lowering his voice, as they walked out of the Brawler's District. He did not want to insult the brawlers, however, he sorely longed for a challenge.
“Let's go,” Victor said, quickly flying off as if to test Matthew's ability to follow him. Matthew jumped from wind to wind and kept up with Victor. They landed in a rocky area in the middle of a deep crater.
“In a moment, a strong wind will surge upward. You'll need to focus on it and let it carry you until it stops. Don't let the height or intensity of your ascension frighten you, or you'll drop off from the wind,” Victor instructed.
“Got it.”
Matthew focused on the vibration of a heavy upwind that jetted him upward and violently spun him around in a circle. The wind seemed to have a mind of its own, determined to shake Matthew off of itself. Matthew refused to let go, as he spun higher and higher into the increasingly blackened sky. The wind stopped as Matthew spun beyond Callisto's firmament, entering into an entirely new area.
Matthew found himself on top of a snow-capped mountain. Looking down its precipice, he saw groups of large, reddish-orange mountains, jagged valleys, and lofty fir trees. Matthew noticed a colossal iron pillar far off in the distance. The pillar was so tall that it extended beyond the firmament. The pillar lit up the dark sky by reflecting a light source that Matthew could not identify. After a while, the pillar grew dark and left the entire terrain pitch-black. Moments later, another pillar, east of the original one, reflected light in its place. This process repeated itself over again, as light bounced between the nine pillars in the region.
Matthew rode a series of winds, following Victor to an isolated cottage. Nearby the cottage, an athletic, bald man sat levitating in mid-air, deep in meditation. He wore red, loose robes. He radiated an aura of might that was counterbalanced by his apparent state of serenity.
“This is Amezarak,” Victor said quietly. “There is much that you can learn from him, though face him at your own risk.” The sky went black again, and Victor was gone by the time light had shifted to a new iron pillar. Amezarak opened his eyes and shot Matthew an intimidating glare. His eyes gleamed like clustered, glowing quartz stones. Amezarak's gaze was fixed on Matthew, but he showed no sign of aggression. He's intense but doesn't seem hostile. Amezarak slowly shifted into a combat stance and gestured toward Matthew, as if to invite him to a sparring session.
Matthew rushed at Amezarak, throwing a left jab in an attempt to create an opening that would allow him to strike with a right hook. Mirroring Matthew's speed, Amezarak dashed at Matthew and blocked his jab with one hand while striking him to the chest with his other hand. Amezarak continued to simultaneously block and attack, neutralizing Matthew's follow up offensive, knocking him to the ground. Matthew got back up and was overwhelmed by a series of cycling, fluid punches that were aimed at his center line, giving him no room to block or counterattack. Amezarak put Matthew down with a simple, well-timed, push kick.
Matthew attacked Amezarak with every combat style that he had learned, and Amezarak handily shut every one of them down. Matthew was nearly out of spirit vitality when he disengaged from his sparring match with Amezarak. He sat down to rest, and Amezarak started to shadow box. Matthew observed Amezarak's moves, learning what he could from the combat master. Amezarak was so fast, that it was difficult for Matthew to gauge his movements. Eventually, Matthew's eyes adjusted to Amezarak's speed.
Matthew diligently practiced with another combat dummy that he created, emulating Amezarak's moves and forms. He continually speculated about the proper application of them, seeking crucial combat information that the silent Amezarak would not provide. Days went by, as Matthew sought to master Amezarak's fighting style. It may have been weeks; Matthew started to lose track of physical time. He went through the motions of normality during the day, as if he was running on auto-pilot, and created rifts to Amezarak's cottage at night. His dreams were submerged with the flow of Amezarak's movements. The thought of shutting down Pirate's Temple burned in his mind, as he strove toward combat mastery.
Chapter 3
Rachel's green-hazel eyes glossed over, as she stared intently at her laptop, twirling her thick black hair with one of her tawny fingers. After a day of digging through ancient sediment, she was drained. Her exhaustion, however, did not chip away at her resolve. She was determined to learn everything that she could about prehistoric Dhahab. She had recently returned to her homeland after spending years studying archaeology in Triberia. Getting selected as an intern to work with Professor Lancaster on his Dhahabian dig site almost seemed too good to be true.
In spite of this, she was frustrated by the lack of information that she could find about prehistoric Dhahab. Linguists had confirmed that ancient Malkian speakers inhabited the area in 2000 BE and that Monutian languages were used there as far back as 9000 BE. However, no records of a Dhahabian state existed prior to 800 BE. Considering Dhahab's location and rich history, Rachel found it hard to believe that an earlier proto-Dhahabian state did not exist.
Dhahab was the only region on the southeastern continent that was able to resist the powerful Ghemezian Caliphate when it first rose to power. Dhahab was also the only province in Monutu that was able to resist being colonized by one of the Barilian states, during the height of the colonial powers' brutal conquests. There was something special, almost mystical, about her homeland, and she longed to discover what it was. After spending another couple of hours deep in research, Rachel closed her laptop, put away her thinly-framed glasses, and called it a night.
Rachel lived in a small, minimally decorated condominium. Her patio provided a generous view of the western seascape. After getting herself ready for work, Rachel sat down on a beige lounge chair on her patio and gazed at the water. She loved to look at the sea, especially during sunsets. She answered a text message from her father Solomon, who wondered how her dig was going. Solomon was wealthy; he owned several highly valued real estate properties that he rented out, including Rachel's condominium. Rachel gathered her thoughts and headed out for the day.
She drove her jeep to the dig site, eager to get back to the trenches. She walked by sophisticated, geophysical equipment on her way to the section of the grid where her team was assigned. Trowel in hand, she worked her way through a stratigraphic layer that was dated as far back as 2800 BE. There were plenty of less labor-intensive tasks that she could have been working on; however, Rachel preferred the hands-on approach to excavation. Rather than using the most efficie
nt digging methods, she opted to let her intuition guide her. She happened to have a good feeling about the area that she was working on.
Excitement seized her heart when her trowel struck a solid, wooden object buried in the dirt. She carefully dug around it and removed a long slab out of the dirt. Her eyes widened when she cleaned it off and saw ancient Orion glyphs engraved in the object. Ancient Orion was the world's first empire. Its territory had never reached beyond modern day Ghemeza, which was just north of Dhahab.
Rachel was able to decipher most of the writing on the artifact since she specialized in ancient linguistics. She identified the object as a population census. She smiled when she realized that she held in her hands a probable physical evidence of a link between ancient Dhahab and Orion. She took a photo of the artifact with her phone. Rachel ran jubilantly to Professor Lancaster's tent, an artifact in hand.
“Professor! Look at what I dug up in Square E4!” she reported with glee, barely able to contain herself. Professor Lancaster gave her an approving smile. He pushed his round glasses up his snub nose and examined the artifact that Rachel handed him.
“Magnificent! Are these ancient Orion glyphs?” He inquired.
“Yes! This links ancient Dhahab to the Orion Empire!” She replied. Professor Lancaster bore an incredulous look on his face.
“Let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's possible that an Orion explorer left this in the area. We would need more evidence to support the existence of a Dhahabian settlement contemporary with the Orion Empire. Our analysis didn't detect anything in the two-eight zone; it's a wonder you found anything there at all.”