Hybrid Saga 01 - Hybrid

Copyright

Copyright © 2012 by Shaun Briscoe

Cover Design by Shaun Briscoe

Book Design by Shaun Briscoe

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author.  The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Hybrid
 is a work of fiction.  Names, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

eISBN-978-0-9917004-0-0

Dedication

For Luke and Liv

Prologue

The great doors of the Battle Hall were impressive by not only architectural standards, but as functional works of art that inspired reverence in all those who gazed upon and passed through them. Standing four meters tall, they were hand crafted from stone with, much like the rest of the Rai Chi temple, a seemingly limitless amount of care and detail. Etched into each of the mammoth doors were scriptures and testaments to the warriors who had long since passed on to the next world, and even more so, to the Gods they had died honoring. Where the monoliths met was centered a face, large and protruding outward from the flat stone surface around it. It was a face, both menacing and dominating, commanding fear and awe from all those who dared to lay eyes upon it.

Turaus. God of War.

His name held the greatest meaning for all Rai Chi. For all Rai Chi were warriors, and all held fast to the belief that the highest honor in life was to have one’s own blood spilled in battle, serving the God that created them in His warrior image. It was only appropriate that His face, the face of the God worshipped by all warriors, be the one to adorn the great doors of the Battle Hall, where the Rai Chi warrior was crafted. To watch over them as they devoted themselves to their highest form of worship. The art of combat.

The War God’s watchful gaze trembled, as though life had suddenly been breathed into the solid stone, and the face split slowly in two as the great doors parted open. The face that replaced Turaus’ was no less impressive, but one of a mortal being, of flesh and blood.

Rho’uk Chi-Nal spread open the doors of the Battle Hall, striding inside with the grace of a seasoned warrior, each step precise, every movement deliberate. His eyes, one dark brown, the other a cold grey, betrayed nothing of his thoughts, only a solidity and unwavering confidence in his every action. A scar ran from high on his forehead down over his grey eye, ending just below the cheek bone on the left side of his dark face, a distinguishing mark that only served to bolster his already fierce appearance. Like most Rai Chi warriors, his attire was simple and purely functional. He wore a plain loin cloth, his legs dressed with the dark, leathery hide of a wild raunt, a beast regularly feasted upon by his people. His muscular arms were bare, but for the hard armor guards that covered his forearms, his warrior rank disclosed only by the colored markings on the armor vest he wore over his torso, both of which were crafted from the exoskeleton of a cresche arachnid he slew himself.

As a Soto’kai; Master Warrior; his rank was seconded only by his Overseer and the elders of the council, though it was a position he should not have been able to attain, given his bloodline. Under normal circumstances only a descendant of the Overseer could rise to the highest rank of the warrior caste, but Rho’uk and the Nal clan were highly respected by the elder council and all of the other clans, so it was through their persistence that he had ascended. It was an appointment, and an honor, he hand continuously endeavored to prove himself worthy of.

Crossing the open floor, he admired the hall around him, with the same degree of awe and respect he had felt at seeing it for the first time as a young learner so many years ago, and each time since. The Battle Hall was no less elaborate than any other part of the temple, if not more so. It was circular in shape, with numerous stone pillars stretching up to the high, rounded ceiling above, every inch of their smooth surfaces inscribed with the teachings and philosophies of the Rai Chi. The curved walls were much the same, the images of great warriors doing battle etched into them, each with its own legendary story to tell. Sculptures of great, fallen warriors of the past stood proudly around the perimeter of the hall, watching over their heirs approvingly as they honed their skills in the Battle Circle.

Rho’uk came to a stop a number of strides from the circle, placed in the epicenter of the hall, and there he waited patiently, his thoughts wandering back to his youth, where many a day had been spent receiving tutoring and punishment within the circle. They were fond memories of lessons learned, a great many of them painfully so, each one a gift to be cherished and passed on.

His father had instructed him, not only in the ways of combat, but in what he had insisted was much more important, and the very foundation of which the spirit of their people was built upon. Their honor. Rho’uk had learned from a young age what it meant to be Rai Chi and a warrior. That honor came, not through combat, but from the reasons behind it. It was not earned through the slaying of enemies, but through the code one lived their life by. Honor resided within the heart of the warrior, not in the number of victories he had attained or lives he had taken. This was the true way of his people. One that had been lost to them in recent times.

Kul’uk Chi-Nal’s monument stood tall and proud among the other honored warriors, his image and name meaning much to those who had known him, and even to those who had not, but no more so than his own son. It was not the Rai Chi way to mourn the passing of others, but to rejoice in their ascendance as warriors to the next world, so Rho’uk nodded respectfully to his father’s monument, then let his gaze and focus return to the Battle Circle where a number of combatants stood at the ready, at the center of which was Shu’ma Chi-Kem.

Rho’uk had known Shu’ma since childhood, learning the Rai Chi ways with him, under the tutelage of his father, who had instructed many a young warrior. Though they shared an equal rank, Shu’ma was heir to Overseer Xin’ma Chi-Kem, and because of this he would always be seconded to him. This fact did not trouble Rho’uk, though before his father’s death his bloodline was above that of the Kem clan. Such things held no sway on his thoughts. Pride was for the foolish and those without an understanding of true honor. He lived to serve his people and the Gods, in whatever role or capacity they decreed. And Shu’ma was his comrade. He was honored to serve next to his friend and call him captain.

Shu’ma stood motionless and unarmed in the center of the battle circle, surrounded by a dozen young students, all brandishing basic training bo’ruuk; traditional fighting staffs that were a staple of the Rai Chi arsenal, customizable to suit each warrior’s ability and progression in the art of using the weapon. Though not limited to the bo’ruuk alone, all Rai Chi training in many styles of armed and unarmed combat, proficiency in the staff was considered paramount. The warrior and the bo’ruuk were meant to be one.

Shu’ma nodded towards his students, commanding them forward. “Chu plah!”

One of the young warriors leaped forward at the invitation, thrusting the pointed end of his bo’ruuk towards his instructor’s midsection. Shu’ma turned his body, leaning only slightly to avoid the attack and, taking hold of the weapon, smashed the dull, blunt edge back up into the warrior’s face, knocking him to the floor.

Without hesitation, another warrior rushed from his spot in the circle, swinging his bo’ruuk in a high, overhead motion, a blow that would split his instructor’s skull cleanly down the middle. Shu’ma easily blocked the attack with his own weapon, batting aside a follow up slash directed at his left flank. Pivoting on his heel and bringing his back to the warrior, he thrust his bo’ruuk backwards, having retracted the bladed end, stabbing the now dull end into his opponent’s stomach, knocking the wind from him. With a backward jerk of his neck, he smashed the back of his head into his student’s face, receiving a loud crunch in return as the young warrior fell to the floor, blood gushing from his mouth and broken nose.

Rho’uk continued to watch as more warriors pressed the attack, each one being cast aside with relative ease, and left sprawled out on the floor, unconscious or dazed.

Finally, Shu’ma halted any further attacks with an upraised hand. “Hu te!”

The warriors stood down, bowing respectfully before turning away to kneel in meditation stances for prayer. The ones capable of doing so, lifted themselves from the floor and returned to kneel in their places along the edge of the circle, leaving a couple of students still motionless on the ground.

Looking over to Turaus’ monument displayed in front of the Battle Circle, Shu’ma bowed his head respectfully, then turned to exit the circle towards where Rho’uk stood waiting.

“Rho’uk,” he began. “You come to observe my instruction? Hoping to learn something, perhaps? We have not sparred in some time, you and I.”

Rho’uk greeted the other warrior with a nod before responding, matter-of-factly. “No, we have not, Shu’ma. It has been too long since we tested each other.”

Turning back, Shu’ma spread his arm open to the Battle Circle behind them. “The Battle Circle is where it always was, old friend. May I interest you in a lesson?”

“It would give me great pleasure to enlighten you in the finer matters of combat,” Rho’uk answered with a grin. “But, now is not the time. The Overseer returns, and we have been summoned.”

At the mention of his father’s return, Shu’ma’s voice took on a more serious tone. “Then indeed, our battle must wait.”

“Indeed,” Rho’uk agreed, as they continued on towards the great doors of the Battle Hall. “It will give you more time to prepare yourself for the shame of defeat, my friend.”

Shu’ma gave him a wicked grin in response to the friendly challenge, which he mirrored in kind as they departed the great hall. There would be time enough to test each other later. For now, their Overseer awaited them.

*     *     *

Xin’ma Chi-Kem’s personal chamber was darkly lit, feint light coming from the few oil lamps mounted on the walls. The room was empty but for an elaborate praying mantel that occupied one end of the chamber, the candles placed around it illuminating its many statues and ornaments, all of them carvings of the Gods and legendary Rai Chi warriors. The Overseer knelt before the mantel, dressed in the formal attire of his high ranking status, his black cape falling down his back from decorative shoulder guards.