Chapter 18 Breaker of the Unyielding Bastion
Breaker of the Unyielding Bastion
Outer Space didn’t do mornings.
The only light came from the strobe of passing stars, fracturing through the stateroom ports in silver beams.
Most times, however, the velvet void of Pegasi was a dark blur as The Alatyr hauled ass toward Eden II.
Idan sat at the steel galley table, staring into a bowl of nutrient-dense oats, a fortified, mineral-heavy blend packed with dried fruit.
It was a far cry from the thick, cream-laden porridge he preferred back on the farm.
Still, he rated it, savoring it even though he shook off a pang of worry for his animals to focus on the woman seated across from him.
Fokk, she was gorgeous.
Sheba had her dark hair piled into a messy bun that highlighted the elegant line of her neck.
She was fresh from the shower, her skin flushed with a natural glow.
Her lips were still swollen, a vivid reminder of how hard he kissed her that morning as he made love to her.
Every day with her was a lesson in care, empathy, and full acceptance, concepts that didn’t exist in his former cold, transactional Sacran code.
He locked onto the memory of her grit: the way she fought for her patients and the absolute, ironclad loyalty she poured into her nursing squad back on Lattaya.
She gave her soul, heart, and body to him without any exhausting head games, moving with a vibrant, sultry confidence that left him breathless.
He also valued the way she respected his silence.
She never drowned their peace in ‘empty chatter,’ and she possessed a stillness and calm that was fokkin’ attractive to him.
She accepted the entirety of him, the rough, sinewed hands of the shepherd and the menacing shadow of the soldier he was trying to outrun.
She was his anchor in a reality that was spinning out of control.
Further, helping her find her footing after everything she’d been through gave him a reason to stop obsessing over his own ghosts.
He caught himself wondering if, once the Sulfiqar shit-show ended, there was a version of destiny where he made her his, not just for the foreseeable future, but for eternity.
‘You’re staring,’ Sheba said, her husky utterance breaking into his thoughts.
‘Can’t help it. You’re breathtaking, my love,’ he rasped.
He kissed the back of her hand, and she smiled as Ki’Remi entered the room, the scent of kahawa trailing in his wake.
Issa followed with a big bowl of scrambled eggs and a platter of fresh toast.
‘Good morning,’ she called out with a smile. ‘How did we sleep?’
The couple exchanged notes on their night as Ki’Remi set a steaming carafe on the table and leaned against the bulkhead.
‘You doing okay, Idan? Most men find a tryst among the stars fatal.’
Sheba paused, her spoon halfway to her mouth. ‘What tryst?’
Idan stared at the steam rising from his breakfast. ‘I took a walk on the hull at 0200. I needed the vacuum of space to ground my thoughts.’
Sheba arched a brow at him.
‘You walked the exterior of a corvette in mid-flight?’
Ki’Remi shook his head in disbelief. ‘With no mag boots nor a tether to be seen, which confirmed to me, for I was on watch last night, what he claims to be is true.’
Idan huffed. ‘You saw me, man?’
‘My cameras did, from the bridge, my friend. You’re an -.’
‘Anomaly, I know it. Highborn Sacrans with my physiology don’t need oxygen to survive. I often took spacewalks during my time as Commander. The vacuum gave me clarity on what I must do next.’
Ki’Remi poured three mugs of the black stimulant. ‘So, where to, then? Apart from getting your asses into Eden II?’
Idan reclined in his seat, hands crossed over his chest, pushing his tongue into his cheek in thought.
He sighed, eyes to the passing stars.
‘I have to find my supposed half-brother, Molan, so that we can plot the end of my father’s murderous campaign.’
Issa paused serving, her hand gripping a ladle, both eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘Molan is your sibling?’
‘Naam, we share a father.’
‘Wait, Sulfiqar is your father?’ Issa asked, her eyes dilating and flaring with more shock. ‘I’d no idea, for you carry a matriarchal name.’
‘I am a Caliostheles on my mother’s side,’ Idan rasped, slicing his gaze to her. ‘However, my father is Sulfiqar the Unmaker. He seeks his throne back with Molan’s help, thus fueling his pursuit of us on Tansinia.’
The stirring spoon in Issa’s hand clattered against the table, her face a mask of pure disbelief. ‘You’re blowing my mind.’
Idan took a deep inhale. ‘My mother, Aeryn-Thall, the Weaver of New Life, presided as the Goddess of Immortal Harmony. She was the architect of the celestial weave, and she was also Sulfiqar’s concubine; the only being who could soothe the Emperor’s divine madness.
Sulfiqar did not love her. He coveted her and sought to control her throughout their complicated relationship. ’
He paused, pursing his lips, the memory a shard of pain in his mind. ‘A few years ago, the tyrant ordered the execution of my mother and her entire entourage.’
Sheba took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around his back. ‘Honey, I’m so sorry.’
He exchanged glances with her, drew strength from her, and continued.
‘He killed her for her defiance. He’d demanded her blood, wanting to siphon her essence to mend his ailing form and stretch his immortality into another age. She refused to become his lifeline so that he might continue his brutal rule, and so she became another victim of his rage.’
‘Damn,’ Ki’Remi breathed. ‘Sounds like the kinai deserves a brutal end.’
Idan’s lips twisted. ‘He does. I sought to avenge her, but then Sulfiqar fell. My then-lover, Artya, betrayed me by running her mouth to the ruling Council about my biological link to him. Her treachery got me kicked out of Sivania; in fact, my ship got sabotaged and thrown into a gravity well. I survived the crash. In that darkness, my celestial connection to the Sacran Army severed. I chose to leave the cord cut, free of fokkin’ titles and twisted duty.
I landed on Tansinia and used my Nihil-Stalker experience to vanish into its cliffs and deserts. ’
‘I remember the day the news broke,’ Issa whispered. ‘We thought you were dead.’
‘The Harbinger of the Divine Reckoning, Breaker of the Unyielding Bastion, and Sentinel of the Silent Grave did certainly perish in that well,’ Idan muttered.
‘I traded the brutality of a mercenary life for the peace of a farm. I masked my Shadow-Step ability beneath the gait of a shepherd, and since then, each breath I take is a calculated rejection of the empire I served.’
Sheba’s fingers brush the callus of his hand. ‘It’s understandable given what you’ve shared.’
‘Indeed. Now, the Unmaker orchestrates chaos to drag Molan and me back into his orbit. He wants our spectral and psionic might for his crusade to retake Sivania. I possess no ambitions for thrones or conquest. All I want is a farm and animals, as well as peace, love, and companionship in obscurity.’
Idan sat up, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the table. ‘Which is why I must find Molan and beseech him to partner with me in dismantling Sulfiqar’s plans.’
It was the most he’d ever spoken in a while, and his pitch dropped to a raw, hoarse murmur, laced with hardness.
‘It seems that I can no longer hide in the mountains. Molan and I must face this reckoning. If we fail, Sulfiqar will destroy every soul we touch and us. This is a war to the death.’
The Corvette descended onto the orbital space port of Eden II, its hunter-class silhouette casting a sleek shadow over the moon-world’s fractured radiance.
Through the bridge’s plexiglass, Idan studied the sphere beneath, its silver surface gleaming under the glare of the system’s twin suns.
Two concentric halos of industrialized rings rotated around the equator, in shimmering arcs of refracted gold.
Monolithic needles of obsidian, sky towers, and skyscrapers rose from each circle, powered by solar collectors that gathered power from the binary stars.
Below the cloud layer, the metropolis sprawled in a labyrinth of steel and light.
High-velocity air lanes created a chaotic weave of transports and hover-bikes, their engine wash pulsing a perpetual vibration through the skies.
On the ground levels, polished duracrete snaked between glass obelisks, while holographic billboards cycled through ads in a dozen dialects, staining the atmosphere in electric violet and synthetic cyan.
The city was a frantic machine of industry and commerce that never rested, and the transition into the sky port hit Idan hard.
The moment the airlock hissed open, a wall of sensory noise flooded his psyche.
The stench of recycled air and unwashed crowds, the electricity of sparking maglev rails, and the suffocating density of moving bodies overwhelmed him.
Having spent six years in the silence of the Lattaya’s alpine cliffs, this bustling hive felt like a trap, offering no clear sight lines, nor clean escape routes.
His pulse spiked as the two couples walked down the gangway and crossed over to a waiting sleek flyer.
‘I forgot how fokkin’ crowded cities can be,’ Idan muttered to Sheba, his eyes scanning the terminal as they made their way to Ki’Remi’s personal skiff.
He and Sheba settled into the passenger seats behind the Rider and Issa, his jaw clenching as he strapped in.
He loathed the proximity of buildings; he hated the way the neon lights probed and pierced his retinas.
His body stiffened with the rigid tension of a Nihil-Stalker overriding the calm of the shepherd.
His sigils burned as his muscles braced, his mind already mapping the threats in the crowd.
Sheba reached out, her hand stroking his lower arm. ‘Give it time, honey, you’ll get used to it.’
The contact served as a circuit breaker for his spiraling focus, pulling him back from the urge to phase through the floor and vanish back into the heavens.
Idan glanced down into his woman’s dark, steady gaze, reminding him of the quiet they shared in his hut on the mountain, anchoring him to what mattered.