Runic End

Chapter 1

I awake to the sound of my pounding heart. Outside, the sun is just starting to rise. Cold sweat rolls down my forehead as the nightmare subsides. I look around my small room. On the second floor of a small diner, it has the bare minimums. A bed, closet, and small sink. A mirror hangs over the sink. The only light is provided by a window that looks out to the massive skyscrapers that dominate the sky a few miles away and airships passing overhead.

I groan as I get out of bed, moving over to the small sink. Electricity is scarce in Atlas. Maybe we'd have lights if Atlas weren't a fishing district and actually part of Calypso. At least there's running water. Even if it is saltwater. As I wash up, I make sure to rub the scar that runs from my right cheek to my neck. You'd think two years of recovery would make it less annoying. Staring into the mirror, my light gray eyes stare back at me. Their cold as usual. Almost lifeless. I feel my hair, running my fingers down the red streak that adorns my bangs. No matter how many times I cut it, it always reappears. Doesn't help that my black hair makes it pop. With a sigh, I get dressed in a pair of black pants and a green short sleeve shirt.

Walking to my bedside, I pick up my leather breastplate, though it's nothing more than a small piece covering my chest's upper part. The bracer I use to hide the black veins on my right arm lies on the floor. I stare at my arm. "John," I whisper to myself. It's already been two years. Why can't I get that bastard out of my mind? Forcing the bracer onto my arm, I clear my head, put on my boots, and sling my broadsword over my shoulder. Leaving my room, I descend the stairs to the first floor where the restaurant is located. Pub might be more accurate, though.

It's a homey place with a large fireplace to one end that is always going, even in ninety-degree weather. On the other end is the bar where a few people are already sitting, getting breakfast. The rest of the place is filled with tables for people to sit and eat. As I walk by the counter, my landlady smiles at me. "anything for breakfast, Ember?" she asks. Around the age of forty, she's what you'd expect to see at a bar on the ocean—Tuff and rugged-looking, with dirty blond hair and green eyes that sparkle with mischief. She might be attractive if she wasn't tougher and rougher than most of the sailors.

I shake my head. Best I don't say something to piss her off. The last time that happened, she smashed my door into the other wall. She probably would have ripped my head off if she weren't drunk and gullible. " Send Sal my regards. Crazy ass women and her fucking leviathans." She mutters something else I don't catch. With a sigh, I step onto the street.

Living all my life in the mountains, it never ceases to amaze me the number of people in one place. The street bustles with them and is filled with pop-up shops that sell fish, weapons, and anything else you might need. To the left is the city. Known as the heartbeat of the human world, Calypso. Massive skyscrapers over a thousand feet tall, tower over everything. The skyscrapers extend in a straight line down the coast called the spine. Still not sure where it ends. On the side of the spine facing inland is where people live—facing seaward in the entertainment zone, taking the beaches and such. And Atlas is at the very end. A massive seaport that specializes in fishing and sea-related goods. It's also its own city.

Oh, Calypso. If only you weren't filled to the brim with the corrupt. If that year and a half there taught me anything, it's that Calypso is more dangerous than anything you'd find in Leviathan infested waters. I turn around and head for the port. It's about a ten-minute walk from the pub and makes for a good morning jog, the cool air always refreshing. As I jog, I stop now and then to see what the shops are selling. I also feel like I'm being watched. It's not like I don't have plenty of enemies.

I walk the rest of the way to the port, trying to spot the spies but never see anyone. If they wanted me dead, I'd already be. It's not a uncommon to see someone getting killed out in the open. I reach the coast. A massive dock expands out of site to my right. Not a grain of sand to be seen. I don't have to walk far to find the pier my ship docks at.

I walk up to the massive vessel. About four hundred feet long and thirty feet tall, it's a big ship made to catch Bustal leviathan, one of the most dangerous fish in the water. And it's my job to protect it from pirates. " Took ya damn long enough to get here," A voice behind me says, disgruntled. I sigh and turn, " Sorry, Sal. Had a rough night." A very tall woman of color stands in front of me. Even with me being six feet tall, she almost dwarfs me at six feet sevenish. She is very muscular with biceps practically as big as my head, deep brown eyes, and a vast afro, she looks almost comical. Not like nobody would ever make fun of her, not when she could chuck them twenty feet in the air.

Sal gives me a look and shakes her head, " Think nothing of it. We all have a few of those." I glance at Calypso and frown. Sal must have noticed and asks what's wrong. I hesitate to answer back. I trust Sal. I do. But the last time I trusted someone, it did NOT end well. She's helped before, though, so maybe she knows what to do. " Sal, I can't keep running. One day they'll find me and do the same thing to me that they did to Blade. Every day I feel eyes on me. If they haven't found me-." Sal holds up a hand, " If they had found you, you'd be dead. Or worse." She scratches her head and sighs heavily, " Blade made his choice. While I don't know the whole story, he helped you for a reason. After that sword of yours is done, we need to get you out of the city, Sil-." She pauses to correct herself, " Ember."

I nod. If only it were that simple. Sal walks past me and slaps my back, " For now, just focus on the hunt. We leave in an hour." With that, Sal boards her ship. I grip the strap that holds my sword. It's about time I left this place. If only I could find a way out.