This was intended as the prologue for Fusion, and it remained in the manuscript until the final draft. It shows a little of Kaine's life prior to his introduction to Raven and reveals his identity.
Pavana: 408 Coronus Tempus
With his heart thudding in his chest, Kaine could barely hear the men’s voices at the end of the hallway. The shadowed corridor that led to his father’s study provided several places to hide as he made his way closer. He shouldn’t have been on the upper level of the Carrick mansion, but the mysterious guest who had arrived just hours earlier had piqued Kaine’s curiosity.
"Everything is in motion," a low-pitched voice said.
"We are on track here, too," Rory, Kaine’s father, said. "Things with Grania are moving along as planned."
Things with Grania…?
"Excellent."
"And with the Challenge—"
"Do not speak to me of that trivial obligation. I have mind to slaughter the Protectors in their sleep."
"Can it be done, my lord?"
Silence. Kaine held his breath, hanging on their every word. Challenge? What in the system are they talking about? He leaned over a tall decorative vase, dividing the thick purple leaves that shot from it in order to get a better view of the room. Rory, dressed in a formal black tunic, stood rigidly, as the stranger, wrapped in a thick hooded cloak stared out of the window.
"The day is coming, Carrick."
"Yes, my lord. We will exterminate the Logia."
"And we will finally end any allegiance to the Crown."
No! Kaine jolted backward. The resilient branches of the vase snapped back into place, causing the entire piece to wobble. Before he could catch it, the table under the heavy vase gave way. The whole thing crashed to the floor.
Kaine didn’t waste any time. He sailed down the corridor to the safety of the servants’ staircase. But he didn’t stop there. No. Rory would know he had been listening. And he would come for him.
Blazing down the stairs to the second level, Kaine dashed through another empty hallway that led to his favorite respite. Walled in by three sides of the massive Carrick mansion was a small courtyard with a balcony overlooking the stone gardens surrounding the house. Most afternoons, sunlight from Aevum would spill across the cobblestone terrace, warming the cold brick. No such luck today. Looming fog had rolled in and settled on the landscape. Kaine couldn’t shake the shivers that now took over his body.
The horrific words rang in Kaine’s ears. He gripped the wrought-iron railing of the balcony. Exterminate the Logia. His father had actually said it. Aloud.
In that instant, his father confirmed Kaine’s suspicions. Rory had raised him in the ways of the Crepusculum—conservative and focused. More recently, the Crepusculum had aligned themselves with their talented counterparts, the Strages. A small group of them, ambiguously named the Gathering, had descended upon the Carrick home months earlier. Since their arrival, Kaine witnessed training and strategy sessions, but he had no idea they were concerning the disposal of the Logia. He hadn't realized how involved Rory really was. It all made sense now. They were to start with beings they referred to as the Protectors.
It was about the time the Gathering had arrived that Kaine had been introduced to Grania. She was a stunning, sultry redhead who upon first sight removed every logical thought from his brain. They had grown quite close, and when his father announced Grania was his betrothed, Kaine was rather pleased.
In the passing weeks though, something began to eat at him. Rory had left his shuttle unlocked following one of his conquests, and Kaine snuck aboard to see the plunder. A tattered and coverless book—burned remnants of the Creed, the Logia holy book—had fallen at his feet. He’d snatched it. Since then, his conscience began to struggle with the notion of Logia genocide. And Grania’s beauty could no longer disguise the vileness of her personality. As hard as Kaine tried to battle these feelings, they would overtake him at the worst possible moments.
The courtyard, lush and peaceful, provided enough quiet for Kaine to hear his pulse race through his body. His breath came in panicked gasps. He had to get control, to calm himself somehow. Kneeling down, he pressed his forehead against the cool metal railing and forced himself to take in a slow, steady stream of air.
He pulled the curled pages of the Creed from his pocket. The words had changed his perspective. His life. It had provided hours upon hours of comfort and consolation in his very dark world. He flipped through the pages to find that solace once again.
"Kaine." Rory’s voice came from behind.
Swallowing hard, Kaine stuffed the book back in his breeches and squeezed his eyes closed. Get it together. Calm down. He can’t see you like this.
The heavy footfall of boots on the courtyard cobblestones brought Rory’s powerful hand down on Kaine’s shoulder. "What are you doing here? You should be downstairs with Grania. You two have much to discuss in preparation of your wedding."
"I, um—" Kaine ran a hand over his face before turning around to rise and face his father. They were similar in build, although Kaine stood an inch or two taller. Rory always wore his hair, black as night, long and pulled back in a tight cord, where Kaine kept his lighter brown hair trimmed neatly. And the eyes were distinctly different. Rory’s eyes were always dark and foreboding, full of secrets and seething with anger.
Even more so now.
Fists plowed against Kaine’s chest, whirling him around to pin him against the wall. Rory snarled, "I asked you a question, boy."
The adrenaline-induced heart pounding shifted to cold fear. Kaine dropped his chin in a show of respect. "I-I’m sorry, father. I was just on my way."
"You were stalling." Rory released him and stepped back. "Mara and I have had enough of your uncommitted attitude. You are Crepusculum, Kaine. You have a responsibility to your people and to your family."
Kaine rubbed his neck. "That responsibility should not include offing innocent Logia, simply because of Whom they serve." It was an unwise comment, slipping out from the intensity of the moment, but it came from his heart.
"We have offed no one for such reasons," Rory answered with a sneer.
"Your Strages friends plan to do just that."
Rory edged in, glowering at his son. His tone was stern and unforgiving. "You speak of things you know nothing about."
"I know enough. I’ve heard your conversations."
"You eavesdropped!" Rory’s accusation came with a shove against Kaine’s shoulder.
"I’ve paid attention!" Kaine ducked around Rory and crossed to a cement bench at the heart of the courtyard. "They are talking about eliminating an entire culture, father. You see nothing wrong with that?"
Smoothing out the long sleeves of his fashionable tunic, Rory answered, "It is a culture that is offensive to everything we stand for."
Kaine shook his head. "Offensive to you, perhaps."
Rory’s expression flickered with sympathy before he joined Kaine. Finally, some understanding from his father. How his heart longed to embrace--
Grabbing his elbow with a painful pinch, Rory spoke low in his ear. "Accept who you are, Kaine. Marry Grania and dedicate yourself to the Crepusculum. Quietly and without contention. Or our friends will focus your gift and find a different life for you among the Strages."
Beneath his father’s words, Kaine clearly heard the threat. He tore away from Rory’s grip. "She’s one of them, isn’t she?" He knew his voice was soft with conflict, but he could no longer hide the hurt. And the disgust.
Through gritted teeth, Rory replied, "We strike our bargains and choose to survive the best we can, son."
Although he’d heard Rory’s position upstairs, Kaine had to know where he stood in all of this. Was there even a sliver of devotion to their father-son bond? "Would you choose differently for me, father? If circumstances were otherwise?"
After a hesitant pause, Rory clasped his hands before him. "No. You have great potential, Kaine. You’re a natural leader. And you are a born weapon. You will do the Crepusculum proud." The last statement was a command.
Kaine stepped toward Rory in a calm, measured manner, his eyes even with his father’s. Rory had long made it plain that defiance was unacceptable, but Kaine could no longer restrain the war with his sense of morality. He lifted his chin and set his jaw. "No. I won’t."
Resentment and fury twitched along Rory’s features. And for the first time, Kaine saw the dire evil deep within his father’s eyes. The evil that could only come from serving the Strages god. "Then you will be crafted." His words were icy and malevolent.
The silent standoff between them lasted only seconds, but to Kaine, it was years. There was no doubt Rory would command his personal guards to seize him. But he had to take that chance. Kaine bolted for the door.
***
"Let him go, Carrick," the man instructed from nearby shadows. He must have witnessed the entire scene. It was a wonder he didn’t make an appearance and convince Kaine of his folly.
Rory stared after Kaine, unable to bring himself to look at his master. Shame and regret burned red in his cheeks, fueling the anger he felt toward the boy. "Much will be lost, my lord."
"It is a mere game. We capture the pawns and are crowned king."
The reassurance was odd. Rory expected punishment, scolding, something other than the confidence that was now bestowed upon him. After all, Thaed had ordered him and his wife Mara to care for the boy since infancy. At his direction, they sculpted a very structured life for Kaine, grooming him for his future with the Strages. But Thaed was unaware of the power that Kaine possessed. Rory had hoped to provide a demonstration, once Kaine was fully immersed in the Strages ways.
"I fear he is not a simple pawn." Rory sighed.
"You think I don’t know," Thaed mused as he moved gracefully onto the courtyard walkway, his long cloak trailing behind. "You place too much trust in him. He is much like his mother. And he will fail, just as she did."
A spike of fear crept up Rory’s spine. The way the Strages leader gazed at Kaine’s exit was chilling. Thaed turned to him, the fabric of the cloak whipping with the force of the spin. Piercing eyes bored into Rory’s soul, sending a shiver through him as Thaed spoke, "He will bow before me, as will the rest. And he will suffer for his choices. Leave it to me."
***
The docking garage seemed eons away, but Kaine dared not stop. Even as he entered, he slowed only to a purposeful gait. He didn’t wish to alarm the attendant. Waving casually as he saw the man, he nodded to him. "Just out for a nice, relaxing flight. Be back soon."
The attendant waved back with a rag in hand. "Very good, Master Carrick. Safe venture."
"Thanks, Trinam."
Kaine wheeled the ladder to his sleek one-man craft, clambered up, and popped the canopy. He glanced around, sizing up the other ships in the garage. Certainly a different ship would make more sense to take, particularly since he would have to make the craft his home now. But this pretentious one, the Screamer, was new and exceptionally fast. It would fetch a tidy sum on the market. Enough to purchase a more comfortable ship.
He slid into the cockpit, but didn’t bother with pre-flight checks. Trinam always kept the ships ready to go at a moment’s notice. Rory’s orders. The Screamer started with a gentle purr. Kaine pulled down the canopy and buckled in. He knew the escape would be tight. He just hoped that his father had enough courtesy and honor to order the gunners to stand down.
The spacecraft lifted into the air at Kaine’s touch and eased through the garage. As he neared the exit, he wondered why his father hadn’t run after him. He had to trust he was simply faster and in choosing the right path, the Logia god protected him. Either that or Rory had a far more vicious and conniving plan. Knowing his father, it was likely the latter.
Kaine held his breath and whispered a short prayer of forgiveness and guidance. He no longer doubted the Crown. It was time to devote himself wholly to searching out what he could about the Logia and perhaps surrender his service to them. He released a heavy sigh as the ship cleared the drop off from the garage and flew into the clouds above.
With his heart thudding in his chest, Kaine could barely hear the men’s voices at the end of the hallway. The shadowed corridor that led to his father’s study provided several places to hide as he made his way closer. He shouldn’t have been on the upper level of the Carrick mansion, but the mysterious guest who had arrived just hours earlier had piqued Kaine’s curiosity.
"Everything is in motion," a low-pitched voice said.
"We are on track here, too," Rory, Kaine’s father, said. "Things with Grania are moving along as planned."
Things with Grania…?
"Excellent."
"And with the Challenge—"
"Do not speak to me of that trivial obligation. I have mind to slaughter the Protectors in their sleep."
"Can it be done, my lord?"
Silence. Kaine held his breath, hanging on their every word. Challenge? What in the system are they talking about? He leaned over a tall decorative vase, dividing the thick purple leaves that shot from it in order to get a better view of the room. Rory, dressed in a formal black tunic, stood rigidly, as the stranger, wrapped in a thick hooded cloak stared out of the window.
"The day is coming, Carrick."
"Yes, my lord. We will exterminate the Logia."
"And we will finally end any allegiance to the Crown."
No! Kaine jolted backward. The resilient branches of the vase snapped back into place, causing the entire piece to wobble. Before he could catch it, the table under the heavy vase gave way. The whole thing crashed to the floor.
Kaine didn’t waste any time. He sailed down the corridor to the safety of the servants’ staircase. But he didn’t stop there. No. Rory would know he had been listening. And he would come for him.
Blazing down the stairs to the second level, Kaine dashed through another empty hallway that led to his favorite respite. Walled in by three sides of the massive Carrick mansion was a small courtyard with a balcony overlooking the stone gardens surrounding the house. Most afternoons, sunlight from Aevum would spill across the cobblestone terrace, warming the cold brick. No such luck today. Looming fog had rolled in and settled on the landscape. Kaine couldn’t shake the shivers that now took over his body.
The horrific words rang in Kaine’s ears. He gripped the wrought-iron railing of the balcony. Exterminate the Logia. His father had actually said it. Aloud.
In that instant, his father confirmed Kaine’s suspicions. Rory had raised him in the ways of the Crepusculum—conservative and focused. More recently, the Crepusculum had aligned themselves with their talented counterparts, the Strages. A small group of them, ambiguously named the Gathering, had descended upon the Carrick home months earlier. Since their arrival, Kaine witnessed training and strategy sessions, but he had no idea they were concerning the disposal of the Logia. He hadn't realized how involved Rory really was. It all made sense now. They were to start with beings they referred to as the Protectors.
It was about the time the Gathering had arrived that Kaine had been introduced to Grania. She was a stunning, sultry redhead who upon first sight removed every logical thought from his brain. They had grown quite close, and when his father announced Grania was his betrothed, Kaine was rather pleased.
In the passing weeks though, something began to eat at him. Rory had left his shuttle unlocked following one of his conquests, and Kaine snuck aboard to see the plunder. A tattered and coverless book—burned remnants of the Creed, the Logia holy book—had fallen at his feet. He’d snatched it. Since then, his conscience began to struggle with the notion of Logia genocide. And Grania’s beauty could no longer disguise the vileness of her personality. As hard as Kaine tried to battle these feelings, they would overtake him at the worst possible moments.
The courtyard, lush and peaceful, provided enough quiet for Kaine to hear his pulse race through his body. His breath came in panicked gasps. He had to get control, to calm himself somehow. Kneeling down, he pressed his forehead against the cool metal railing and forced himself to take in a slow, steady stream of air.
He pulled the curled pages of the Creed from his pocket. The words had changed his perspective. His life. It had provided hours upon hours of comfort and consolation in his very dark world. He flipped through the pages to find that solace once again.
"Kaine." Rory’s voice came from behind.
Swallowing hard, Kaine stuffed the book back in his breeches and squeezed his eyes closed. Get it together. Calm down. He can’t see you like this.
The heavy footfall of boots on the courtyard cobblestones brought Rory’s powerful hand down on Kaine’s shoulder. "What are you doing here? You should be downstairs with Grania. You two have much to discuss in preparation of your wedding."
"I, um—" Kaine ran a hand over his face before turning around to rise and face his father. They were similar in build, although Kaine stood an inch or two taller. Rory always wore his hair, black as night, long and pulled back in a tight cord, where Kaine kept his lighter brown hair trimmed neatly. And the eyes were distinctly different. Rory’s eyes were always dark and foreboding, full of secrets and seething with anger.
Even more so now.
Fists plowed against Kaine’s chest, whirling him around to pin him against the wall. Rory snarled, "I asked you a question, boy."
The adrenaline-induced heart pounding shifted to cold fear. Kaine dropped his chin in a show of respect. "I-I’m sorry, father. I was just on my way."
"You were stalling." Rory released him and stepped back. "Mara and I have had enough of your uncommitted attitude. You are Crepusculum, Kaine. You have a responsibility to your people and to your family."
Kaine rubbed his neck. "That responsibility should not include offing innocent Logia, simply because of Whom they serve." It was an unwise comment, slipping out from the intensity of the moment, but it came from his heart.
"We have offed no one for such reasons," Rory answered with a sneer.
"Your Strages friends plan to do just that."
Rory edged in, glowering at his son. His tone was stern and unforgiving. "You speak of things you know nothing about."
"I know enough. I’ve heard your conversations."
"You eavesdropped!" Rory’s accusation came with a shove against Kaine’s shoulder.
"I’ve paid attention!" Kaine ducked around Rory and crossed to a cement bench at the heart of the courtyard. "They are talking about eliminating an entire culture, father. You see nothing wrong with that?"
Smoothing out the long sleeves of his fashionable tunic, Rory answered, "It is a culture that is offensive to everything we stand for."
Kaine shook his head. "Offensive to you, perhaps."
Rory’s expression flickered with sympathy before he joined Kaine. Finally, some understanding from his father. How his heart longed to embrace--
Grabbing his elbow with a painful pinch, Rory spoke low in his ear. "Accept who you are, Kaine. Marry Grania and dedicate yourself to the Crepusculum. Quietly and without contention. Or our friends will focus your gift and find a different life for you among the Strages."
Beneath his father’s words, Kaine clearly heard the threat. He tore away from Rory’s grip. "She’s one of them, isn’t she?" He knew his voice was soft with conflict, but he could no longer hide the hurt. And the disgust.
Through gritted teeth, Rory replied, "We strike our bargains and choose to survive the best we can, son."
Although he’d heard Rory’s position upstairs, Kaine had to know where he stood in all of this. Was there even a sliver of devotion to their father-son bond? "Would you choose differently for me, father? If circumstances were otherwise?"
After a hesitant pause, Rory clasped his hands before him. "No. You have great potential, Kaine. You’re a natural leader. And you are a born weapon. You will do the Crepusculum proud." The last statement was a command.
Kaine stepped toward Rory in a calm, measured manner, his eyes even with his father’s. Rory had long made it plain that defiance was unacceptable, but Kaine could no longer restrain the war with his sense of morality. He lifted his chin and set his jaw. "No. I won’t."
Resentment and fury twitched along Rory’s features. And for the first time, Kaine saw the dire evil deep within his father’s eyes. The evil that could only come from serving the Strages god. "Then you will be crafted." His words were icy and malevolent.
The silent standoff between them lasted only seconds, but to Kaine, it was years. There was no doubt Rory would command his personal guards to seize him. But he had to take that chance. Kaine bolted for the door.
***
"Let him go, Carrick," the man instructed from nearby shadows. He must have witnessed the entire scene. It was a wonder he didn’t make an appearance and convince Kaine of his folly.
Rory stared after Kaine, unable to bring himself to look at his master. Shame and regret burned red in his cheeks, fueling the anger he felt toward the boy. "Much will be lost, my lord."
"It is a mere game. We capture the pawns and are crowned king."
The reassurance was odd. Rory expected punishment, scolding, something other than the confidence that was now bestowed upon him. After all, Thaed had ordered him and his wife Mara to care for the boy since infancy. At his direction, they sculpted a very structured life for Kaine, grooming him for his future with the Strages. But Thaed was unaware of the power that Kaine possessed. Rory had hoped to provide a demonstration, once Kaine was fully immersed in the Strages ways.
"I fear he is not a simple pawn." Rory sighed.
"You think I don’t know," Thaed mused as he moved gracefully onto the courtyard walkway, his long cloak trailing behind. "You place too much trust in him. He is much like his mother. And he will fail, just as she did."
A spike of fear crept up Rory’s spine. The way the Strages leader gazed at Kaine’s exit was chilling. Thaed turned to him, the fabric of the cloak whipping with the force of the spin. Piercing eyes bored into Rory’s soul, sending a shiver through him as Thaed spoke, "He will bow before me, as will the rest. And he will suffer for his choices. Leave it to me."
***
The docking garage seemed eons away, but Kaine dared not stop. Even as he entered, he slowed only to a purposeful gait. He didn’t wish to alarm the attendant. Waving casually as he saw the man, he nodded to him. "Just out for a nice, relaxing flight. Be back soon."
The attendant waved back with a rag in hand. "Very good, Master Carrick. Safe venture."
"Thanks, Trinam."
Kaine wheeled the ladder to his sleek one-man craft, clambered up, and popped the canopy. He glanced around, sizing up the other ships in the garage. Certainly a different ship would make more sense to take, particularly since he would have to make the craft his home now. But this pretentious one, the Screamer, was new and exceptionally fast. It would fetch a tidy sum on the market. Enough to purchase a more comfortable ship.
He slid into the cockpit, but didn’t bother with pre-flight checks. Trinam always kept the ships ready to go at a moment’s notice. Rory’s orders. The Screamer started with a gentle purr. Kaine pulled down the canopy and buckled in. He knew the escape would be tight. He just hoped that his father had enough courtesy and honor to order the gunners to stand down.
The spacecraft lifted into the air at Kaine’s touch and eased through the garage. As he neared the exit, he wondered why his father hadn’t run after him. He had to trust he was simply faster and in choosing the right path, the Logia god protected him. Either that or Rory had a far more vicious and conniving plan. Knowing his father, it was likely the latter.
Kaine held his breath and whispered a short prayer of forgiveness and guidance. He no longer doubted the Crown. It was time to devote himself wholly to searching out what he could about the Logia and perhaps surrender his service to them. He released a heavy sigh as the ship cleared the drop off from the garage and flew into the clouds above.
© 2022 Ashley Bazer
