Enchanted Stars short - The Soldier

July 30th, 3 years after Los Angeles (Rosemoon, 1217th Year of the Hellhound)
1:00 PM, Saturday (thirteenth hour, fifth Day of the Darkening)
thirty miles north of Canyon City, North America (Earth, Sol)

Somehow, whenever I dreamed about magic, I always thought I would be the one to have it.

I fired a short burst from my rifle. The wizard raised a glowing blue shield in front of him with contemptuous ease, and my bullets bounced off it like rain on a tin roof. My partner, a short and stocky dwarf, strafed him from the opposite direction, firing as well. The wizard just expanded his shield even further, making it a half-dome protecting his entire front.

“You fools!” he cackled. “Mortal weapons cannot harm me!”

Oh good. He was monologuing.

“I am invested with the ancient powers! I am unstoppable!”

It was actually good that he was monologuing. Seriously. It was one of the first things we taught the greenhorns. The more they talk, the less magic they throw at you.

“You are all just dust on my boots!”

There was just one problem: He was an Ender. You know what Enders monologue about?

“This world will end!”

That. Always that.

I tossed a grenade at him. He blew it up with some fire spell, but it distracted him from sending a fire spell at me, so I'd call that a win. I ran through the tall grass, keeping low, in the hopes he wouldn't be able to target me. There was little more than tall grass as far as the eye could see, so I had a lot of area to move around in.

“Foolish mortal! You will die with all the rest!”

Now, I want to be clear here: Enders are dangerous, both individually and as an organization. They basically killed off every modern government, turned the world into something just a couple steps from an apocalyptic wasteland, and are trying to blow up the Earth. Yeah, the whole planet. Not to mention that each one is a powerful wizard, while we've got barely a handful of our own mages. They are the greatest threat our planet has ever faced.

But good God, they're annoying.

The Ender cackled and flourished his arms. His cheap, blood-red robes flapped in the wind. It was probably supposed to look intimidating, but he just looked and sounded ridiculous. “Finally, a true end will come to the world! The doom of the gods is at hand!”

I fired off another burst. He blocked it again, but my partner almost managed to get around his shield.

The problem was that every single Ender was insane. Not just general delusions of godhood and whatnot, but a very specific, focused insanity where they wanted nothing more than to destroy the entire planet. There was some weird magical reason for it, something about how they had gotten themselves brainwashed by a sleeping god or whatever, but I didn't understand any of that. I had only just gotten to the point where I could say the word magic without laughing.

“The gifts of the ancestors are mine to command!”

A bolt of flame screamed down, missing me by a couple feet. I felt it singe my eyebrows, and a tall patch of grass was incinerated. It was so powerful, it consumed the grass too fast for the fire to spread.

That was the other problem: For all their insanity, they did manage to get their hands on real power. A lot of real power. I wasn't sure anyone knew where it had come from. Almost no one on Earth had a drop of real magic, and they had somehow found enough for fireballs and bulletproof shields.

“Attack, my slaves! Tear them to shreds for their defiance!”

Oh, and monsters. They had made monsters, too.

The Ender had set three creatures on me and two on my partner, on his other side. The Enders used the names of ancient gods and monsters for their pets, and the boys in spec-ops had given them weird alpha-numeric designations that were supposed to tell us everything we needed to know about them. The monsters in front of me were PTT04's: Pack hunters, with dangerous Teeth, who could Track us, and a threat rating of four out of ten.

We just called them dog-lizards.

The middle monster gave one last bark and then leaped at me. It was dog-shaped in most important respects, except it had scales instead of fur and even bigger teeth than normal. They were terrifying, but easy to deal with after the first dozen times or so they ambushed you. I just refocused my aim and shot it in the air.

The dog-lizard went down with a whimper, but I immediately turned to the others. They were fast and hard to keep a bead on, so the best time to shoot them was when they were about to attack. In seconds, they were all down, and I turned my gun back to the Ender.

“Ha!” he cried. “You think you can—ugh!”

He hadn't noticed my partner slip closer, past his shield, and stab him with a knife.

The Ender blasted my partner away, but it was already too late. The knife was enchanted. It drained the magic of anyone stabbed with it. I had absolutely no idea how that worked—from what little I knew of magic, you couldn't “drain” anyone of magic any more than you could “drain” someone of beauty. But the point was that in seconds, the Ender was helpless, his whispered words of power nothing more than meaningless babbling.

I ran forward to finish him off. Just as I was about to pull the trigger, my partner tackled me to the side.

“What the hell, man?” I cried. We didn't share a language, but I was sure he got the message. “We need to—”

The Ender exploded.

I was surprised because I shouldn't have been surprised. Enders exploded all the time. They were insane, brainwashed, suicidal apocalypse cultists. It was standard practice for them to drop the biggest spell they could at their feet when they knew they were losing. We gave up trying to take them alive a long time ago.

But that hadn't been a magical explosion. In my expert opinion, it was a small brick of C4.

That meant we weren't alone on this battlefield.

I flipped over onto my belly and scanned the waving grasslands. There was nothing obvious, no towering monsters or flashes of magic. But the grass was three feet tall. There was plenty that it could hide.

There was nothing that had a good reason to be out here besides us and the enemy. With only a moment's hesitation, I fired blindly into the grass.

I heard a shriek of pain, and then someone tried to fire back. But it was even more blind than my own shooting, and bullets passed over our heads harmlessly.

Three shapes rose out of the grass as they tried to flee. A small one with orange skin, a human-sized one with red skin, and a big one with green skin. They had wide mouths like a shark, snake fangs, two pairs of mobile ears shaped like a dog's but hairless, narrow eyes like a rat, and six fingers on each hand.

They were goblinoids from the Empire of Varse. Specifically a goblin, a hobgoblin, and a bugbear. They were the first alien species Earth had ever encountered, and they were a noble race. Even their enemies were forced to admire their courage and tenacity, and what few Varsians I had been able to speak to had been kind, compassionate individuals.

So of course, they had joined the Enders. Nothing in this stupid war ever made sense.

The red one—the hobgoblin—shouted something in what I recognized as the Common tongue. Still didn't speak a word of it, but I got the general gist. The bugbear roared and charged forward, swinging his massive axe as he did. I dodged to the side, and almost got shot by the hobgoblin for my trouble. He missed me by inches.

The hobgoblin was the only one with a gun. The bugbear just had his axe, and the goblin appeared to be unarmed. A civilian being escorted, perhaps? He was wearing a light tunic that was very different than the uniforms the hobgoblin and bugbear were wearing, but I didn't know enough about Varsian culture to be sure of what that meant.

My partner shouted something in Common, pointing at the little orange goblin. I frowned. Was he telling me to capture the guy? Use him as a hostage?

Then the goblin started chanting, and glowing magical power began to gather in his hands.

Oh, COME ON! Another wizard!? We just killed one!

Unlike the Ender, the goblin was perfectly sane. And that meant he didn't waste time on threats or speeches or anything of the sort. Instead, he just flicked a bolt of dark energy at me with a cold efficiency.

He expected me to dodge; it was what I had been doing all fight. But I recognized this spell. It was basically impossible to dodge, but rather weak. So instead of anything fancy, I just charged straight towards him.

Getting hit by the spell felt like sticking a fork into an electrical socket, but I survived, and the wizard didn't have time to get another spell off before I was on him. I tackled him to the ground, wrestled him for a moment, and quickly got the upper hand. I was nearly twice his size and he was scrawny even for a goblin. A human child would have given me more trouble.

I wrenched us both to our feet, wrapped my arm around his throat from behind, and pressed my pistol to the side of his head. “Nobody move!”

Everyone froze. My partner had been wrestling with the bugbear and the hobgoblin had been trying to shoot him. None of them had noticed me fighting the goblin.

“You're not our mission,” I said. “Let us go, and we can all survive this.”

Now I just had to pray that at least one of them spoke English. I knew I should have learned more Common when I had the chance. At the time, it had seemed funny when we were all just learning the dirty words, but now...

“You killed our ally,” the hobgoblin said. He had a thick accent, but he was perfectly understandable. “We must have our payment in blood.”

I gave him a level look. “We both know Varsian honor is more about efficiency and success than about throwing your life away trying to avenge a madman.” I sighed. “Why are you people allied with them, anyway?”

The hobgoblin kept his lips pressed in a firm line.

I rolled my eyes. Right, the other part of Varsian honor: Obeying orders without question. “Fine, this isn't the place for a big philosophical discussion about alliances and the nature of war and all that. But this isn't a place for much of anything. It's a random field in a random farm that was abandoned even before the Cult Wars broke out. There's nothing here. We can both just turn around and walk away without losing face.”

“Of course an Earther wouldn't understand,” the hobgoblin spat.

“Hey some of my best friends are aliens,” I said. “I know a couple things. For example, I know there's all sorts of weird magical things you can do with a field that's been abandoned for a few years.” Something something, energy of the land, something something. “But this field is pretty small, and it hasn't been abandoned for very long. You can't do much with it.” I shrugged, careful to keep the gun on the goblin. “That's why my side only sent two people, and yours only sent three.”

His nose wrinkled in distaste. “Four.”

I frowned. “Four?” I blinked. “Wait, the Ender was actually with you? I figured you were just trying to avenge him on principle.”

He didn't look happy to have let that slip, but he kept talking anyway. “Escort mission.”

I nodded. That made sense. An Ender with his monsters and some time to prepare could have defended this place all by himself against pretty much anything, up to a full bombing run. And he would have needed to, since Enders weren't exactly known for playing well with others. Even other Enders. But if a wizard was caught alone and unprepared, he went down pretty easily.

Yes, fighting two soldiers at once, nearly killing both of us, and only getting taken out because of a lucky trick all counted as “going down easy” for an Ender. Biggest threat the world ever faced, remember?

Regardless, in my normal rambling, disarming way, I had managed to confirm a few important things: The Varsians had been planning to have the Ender use the field for something, that something wasn't super important but it was a genuine part of a broader strategy, and with the Ender dead, it was extremely unlikely that they could complete their mission. At this point, they were just trying to keep us from completing our mission.

My captain always said I didn't pay enough attention in strategy meetings. I always said I paid enough attention in the field to make up for it.

“Neither of us can complete our mission now,” I lied. I had already made it sound like we were planning to use the field for a ritual, and now I was just continuing that. “We can both go home with no fuss.”

The truth was that I didn't even know what we were going to use the field for. Well, I had a couple inklings based on who was coming, but nothing specific. Our mission was simply to make sure there weren't any enemy forces here. If I could convince them to go home, that was mission success for me. Hell, with the Ender dead, we had technically already succeeded whether the Varsians stayed or not; I doubted they could do much about our guest. But there was no need to start another fight.

When you lived in a world with people who looked like everybody else but could summon monsters and literally set your bones on fire, you learned to find ways to avoid fights.

And the Varsians didn't want another fight either. Even ignoring that I had their wizard dead to rights, they had nothing to gain here. As good soldiers, their best option was to simply return to base, report mission failure, and pretend to be sad that their crazy cultist got blown up.

They did need to make some attempt to save face, though. “Perhaps I can be convinced—”

My watch started flashing red.

I had set a timer when we first set out on this mission. It was to warn me when our guest was arriving, and I needed to make sure the area was completely safe. I had lost track of time when we were sneaking up on the Ender, as his presence had turned this from a milk run into an actual serious mission. I had no idea it was this late.

The smart thing to do would have been to shoot the goblin, then try to keep the hobgoblin and the bugbear occupied. My partner and I only needed to survive for a few minutes, and then we were home free.

Instead, I made the mistake of looking up, just briefly.

It was a simple, instinctual response, but the hobgoblin noticed it. He glanced up as well and immediately saw our guest coming in fast.
He shouted something in a language I didn't understand—I didn't think it was Common—and shot at me. He missed, but I lost my grip on the goblin in the process. The goblin immediately threw a bolt of fire at me, but the shot went wide and set the grass on fire instead.

The bugbear roared and swung his axe at my partner, with little success. My partner was small and dodged him easily. The hobgoblin fired into the melee, no longer concerned about accidentally hitting his comrade, and got my partner in the shoulder. He cried out in pain.

Just one more minute...

I fired at the hobgoblin, but the wizard got a shield up. It looked weaker than what the Ender had used, and I would probably be able to breach it in a few seconds, but he threw a fireball at my face before I had a chance to try.

I dropped again to dodge, but he had anticipated me this time. He had aimed low, and I got a scorching concussive ball of fire right in my chest. Thankfully, that was where all my armor and anti-magic protections were, but I was military. All my equipment had been built by the lowest bidder. Enough heat got through that I smelled burning hair, and I was nearly knocked to the ground.

Then the entire world shook. It felt like a giant had dropped a mountain.

I looked up. There, not ten yards away, something that looked like a giant black sword had landed, point down, and sunk half its length into the ground. Even then, it rose about thirty feet above our heads, and the “hilt”—actually the primary engine—was another five feet. Smoke poured from rents and tears along its “blade.”

It was a Varsian Sword-class corvette. A step above their basic fighter. Maybe it had been sent to help the team on the ground? It wasn't designed for air-to-ground combat, but even a quick strafing run could have killed us both instantly. It looked mostly intact, but it wasn't moving. Maybe the crew had died on impact.

Regardless, it wasn't what I had been waiting for.

That landed on the other side of us a moment later, shaking us all to the ground again.

It was a massive winged beast, at least sixty feet long from its savage face, with its single yellow horn like a rhino's, to the tip of its tail. Blue scales the color of sapphires covered most of it, though its belly was covered in dull yellow scales like sand. It had no eyes, but that didn't matter, as from the way its head turned this way and that, I could tell it was watching us closely. Its giant ears, shaped somewhat like a bat's, twitched every which way, trying to take in everything at once.

It spread its four wings and roared. The earth shook again, and the Varsians screamed. I would have done the same in their position. Their Ender ally could have fought this thing, probably even killed it with a bit of luck, but they couldn't handle it alone. They just couldn't.

It was a dragon. Specifically, a blue lesser wyrm chromatic true dragon.

This was the guest we had been waiting for.

And apparently it had been late because it had decided to fight a spaceship in solo combat.

I had to hand it to the Varsians, they were well-trained. The bugbear dragged my partner out of range, trying to keep him from interfering, and the wizard immediately started casting a spell. I doubted he'd have anything that could hurt a dragon, but better safe than sorry. I shot him in the head, and he went down like a sack of potatoes.

Should have done that five minutes ago, I thought grimly.

The hobgoblin fired his rifle at the dragon, but it was useless. Dragons had better armor than most tanks. There were some enchanted bullets that could have leveled the playing field a bit, but they were expensive. Clearly, no one had bothered to provide this squad with anything of the sort.

The dragon's head snapped down, and it bit the hobgoblin in two. At least it was quick. The poor bastard didn't even have a chance to scream.

That just left the bugbear, fighting with my partner. I drew a bead on him, and once my partner was out of the way, I took the shot. The bugbear went down with half a dozen holes in him. My partner brushed himself off, then gave me a thumbs-up.

I took a deep breath. All hostiles eliminated.

Now I just had to make sure we didn't get killed by our ally.

I safetied my rifle and kept my hands away from it, just letting it hand from my neck by its strap. “Honored Wyrm,” I called in formal tones. No one had bothered to tell me the dragon's name. “Thank you for your timely assistance. Tell us, what do we need to do?”

The dragon spoke English; that was in the briefing. But it ignored me and reached back with its surprisingly dexterous claws. I heard the pop of snapping buttons—big buttons—and it removed the massive spike that had been strapped to its back. If I had to guess, I would say that it had been strapped in line with the dragon's spine, so as to not interfere with its wings.

The spike was stainless steel, ten feet long, and a little less than a foot wide. One end was pointed, though not particularly sharp. Still, anything that big, wielded by a dragon of that size, could easily be a deadly weapon.

The dragon considered for a moment, looking around without eyes. Then it stabbed the spike into the ground just a few feet away from me. It paused, straightened the spike slightly, and then gestured to me.

I frowned. I didn't know what to do here. This wasn't part of the briefing I had ignored. The captain had been clear: We were to eliminate hostiles in the area, wait for the dragon, and then obey its orders. There had been no hint as to what those orders would be.

Still, I could guess what the dragon wanted. I walked up to the spike and found the control panel. It was hefty and rugged, designed completely with function over form. The labels weren't helpful since they were all in Japanese, so I didn't have any idea what this device was supposed to do.

But still, it was Earth military tech, not magic mumbo jumbo. It was unlikely to do something terrible like raise the dead or bind our spirits to the land forever. With no better options, I grabbed the power lever and switched it on.

The spike immediately began humming with power, and machinery inside it ground to life. With a great groan, the spike grew, doubling in height. Once it finished extending, a surprisingly delicate array of machinery unfolded from the top. Satellite dishes, radio antennae, and a dozen other things I barely recognized.

My military-grade phone beeped. I glanced at it; I had a signal again.

“A communications tower,” I said, impressed. This thing was much higher-tech than the ones I was used to, and smaller too, but the basic idea was obvious. Putting this tower out here in the middle of nowhere helped improve and spread our communications network. It wasn't a matter of immediate life or death, but it was important. Before we had run into the Ender, I had half convinced myself this was a snipe hunt to get us out of the base.

Not that I would be complaining now. Anything that resulted in a dead Ender was worth the effort.

“Looks good!” I called to the dragon.

It nodded, as calm and unconcerned as a mountain.

“Is there anything else you need from us?”

It shook its head.

“You sure? If you brought some mines, we can lay them down, defend the area a bit.”

It shook its head again and crouched down. It looked like it was preparing to leave.

That seemed like an opportunity that I couldn't pass up. “Is there any chance that you could—” The dragon leaped straight into the air, flapped its wings, and flew away. “—give us a ride. Okay, that's a no.”

My partner walked up, arms crossed as he watched the dragon fly away.

I sighed and patted him on the head. His hair was made of living metal, so it was almost exactly like patting steel wool. “Well Felden old buddy, it looks like we're walking.” I jerked a thumb at the Varsian corvette. “Unless you think you can get that working?”

He looked between me and the corvette for a moment, then shrugged and headed over to it.

I smiled. Who said you needed to speak the same language to communicate?