The Withered Land, The Empire Falls: ABYSSIUM

ABYSSIUM, Part Nine

To the northeast, as the observer looked away from the direction of Teshiwahur below, just over the highest ridges of a distant mountain ridge beyond the dusty, arid plains, the largest of the dual suns around which the giant planet orbited set fire to the skies above the moon, sending forth bolts of whitish-yellow through the khaki-tinted, graying haze that forever masked its vast face. To the central south dipping below the orbital plane of the elliptic, the intense blue radiance of the smaller sun entrapped by its colossal sister, flooded the sky over the cold oceanic sector. Ominously visible in the celestial distance beyond both suns, was a jagged scar, like an uneven tear through a sheet of aged parchment, eclipsed by the larger of the two suns, that stretched from horizon's edge to horizon's edge as the light of the new day revealed the face of The Wound. Dawn was breaking slowly over Pex'Insava as the long night ended.

Anthus Rhoggym looked out upon the morning and gently shifted position while he stood at his post, a five story-tall turret-barricade set into the wall-ring below the descending belly of the suspended Whyrligaegem. The hyper-muscular, mutant meta-synth warrior disconnected himself from the Omni-Scan Feed-helmet through which he performed security reconnaissance hooked into the Whyrligaegem's landscape contour-observation system. He looked down past the slowly retreating shadows to focus on a corner of the compound next to a quartet of scraggly and swollen-trunked, slate-colored, bottle-shaped baobab trees. There, roughly within the center of the circle formed by the trees, he could see The Brothers as they engaged in their morning's exercises and martial meditations.

Rhoggym couldn't help but grudgingly marvel at their concentration and precision as they moved through a series of structured battle exercises, separately and together. On meeting the duo, it was undeniably obvious they were as different as night was from day. And yet, when seeing them in a setting away from the distractions of social interactions with other humans, even though those others may be fellow soldiers and mercenaries, it was just as obvious the pair were only tangentially like their military brethren.

Qrystatos was physically larger and his movements were powered by a ruthless, calculating temperament and muscular aggression, expressing complete confidence in his physical superiority over most any opponent he would encounter. He was a fighter, a predator, revelling in the chaos of brutal conflict. Draekasen, or "D'Spayr" as he preferred to be called, though not quite as large as his older brother, was himself also a stand-out example of Teshiwahurian male development, but he was more lithe, more pantherish, and his movements were faster, more liquid, and more strategic. He was a weapon cursed with intellect, a scientist of violence, unlikely to fight unless he needed to, but, if the need did arise, he would strike with lethal effectiveness and finality. There was some subtle evidence of conflict between the two men, a contentiousness of intent, as Qrystatos appeared to continually be feinting and seeking to mislead, deceive or outwit D'Spayr, but the younger brother appeared to take his elder sibling's ruses and distractions in stride, uncannily forseeing each motion, easily parrying or blocking them. But, despite their differences, the complexity exhibited through the brothers' patterned sequence of movements complemented one another. Individually, they were extremely dangerous, but together, fighting in tandem, they had the potential to be unbeatable...

... or as unbeatable as human beings, despite their gifts, could be, given the limitations of the flesh. They were not Burssurken, not descended of the Fae-Spawn. They were restrained by their evolutionary biology. Still, their obviously advanced training, combat instincts and battle traits were something for him to remember in case of future need.  

Rhoggym's senses detected a disturbance nearby, a movement draped in shadow out past the furthest corners of his vision, a scent of flame and ash, a tremulous vibratory disturbance, the feel of static electricity dancing across his exposed skin... The herculean mutant meta-synth turned his head to see the liquid, rippling spectral image of Kazzime Joxx materializing on the air.