And here’s the conclusion, if you can call it that. This is what happens when I get bored of a story: it gets nuked. Sometimes literally. This part’s a bit longer than previous ones, but I didn’t want to keep stretching it out.
Previous instalments, for reference:
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 1: Prologue
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 2: The Dawn Breaks
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 3: Face to Face
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 4: A Close Call
Hestan started on his way back to the house. His arms were sore from the day’s work and he wanted some rest before market day tomorrow.
His sister awaited him and asked, “Did you get a lot done?”
“Yeah. A few rows,” he said noncommittally. He would mention Kalom tomorrow, when she wouldn’t see the other reason for his weariness.
Once in his room, he shut the blinds and collapsed into bed, reflecting. After a while pondering his encounter with Kalom, he concluded, Kalom must have done something very wrong if he attacked me merely to avoid further questions. And with that final thought, he drifted off to sleep.
▪ ▪ ▪
Hestan awoke before dawn. He’d had a peaceful, dream-free sleep and he was thankful for it. Glancing at the news that lay upon the noticeboard opposite him, he wondered at the absence of an update of the fortress break-in. Almost as if they discovered something was stolen that people shouldn’t know about, he thought. All the noticeboard contained today was the market prices, which he would need.
He got to his feet and traversed the room, ripping the information off the wall. He made a brief effort to make his bed look tidier, but quickly gave up and left the job for his sister, who insisted on having neat rooms. His sister was remaining at home today, as it was customary for males to do the bartering on Market Day. Even he, a thirteen-year-old, would not look out of place at the market square. Unfortunately, prejudice dictated that the adults always seemed to assume he was trying to steal their goods, which of course was never the case.
After a brief greeting and meal with Mikeal, he made his way to their store shed where all the harvested corn was. He dumped it all into the wagon that resided next to the shed and tethered their only horse to it. Then he was away, heading east in the direction of the rising sun.
▪ ▪ ▪
By the time Hestan arrived at the city of Lurndasti, the sun at the peak of its journey through the heavens. The market square was bustling with people everywhere, from ten-years-olds to seniors and everyone in between. The marketplace itself was a large, circular clearing with all roads leading straight to it. Thatched roofs on stone buildings surrounded the area with stalls set up outside most of the buildings. There were also some stables in one section for public use. It was sweltering hot, and some merchants had set up make-shift sun shelters near their stalls – some people were lounging about as the merchants shouted at them to buy their goods.
Hestan led Trukker over to the stables. After ensuring his horse had enough food and water he paid the stable attendant enough money to ensure Trukker would be well treated. Then he filled a sack with corn and hefted it across his back, heading for the nearest harvest stall. It was heavy, but he could manage.
Somebody screamed. Suddenly there was a loud CRACK that sent people scattering in all directions. Hestan whipped his gaze about wildly, searching for the source of the sound.
A gigantic metallic sphere sat in the middle of the marketplace, steaming. It was slightly submerged in the road and cracked rocks surrounded it. Then it broke in half.
Hestan hastily joined the stampede of merchants and buyers all exiting the marketplace without a second glance back. Others were passing him; he’d never been a good runner. Just as he reached the edge of the marketplace, something sharp hit him on his right shoulder. His arm went limp immediately, and a few seconds later the rest of his body followed.
▪ ▪ ▪
Mikeal watched her brother leave for the markets, glad she didn’t have to accompany him. She hated dealing with merchants even more than she hated the constant grind every day, straining to make enough money to survive until the next harvest. It was always work; there was no break, no holidays, and she wished that by some miracle they would have the opportunity to play like most others their age. But with no adult to do the work for them, they were stuck doing it themselves in order to maintain the house, the horse, the land, their food… The list went on. Of course, she appreciated the value of hard work; perhaps more than anyone else. She packed more brawn than a lady should, and it often drew stares when she went into town. Another reason she hated market days.
With a dejected sigh, Mikeal left the house and went to prepare a new season of corn. A loud CRACK ripped through the air, and she dropped to the ground instinctively. She’d never heard such a sound before, and it sent a shiver down her spine as she considered what it could be. After briefly considering going to the marketplace to check if Hestan was alright, she decided it would be too late by the time she got there if anything was wrong.
Praying that he was okay, she forced herself to return to her work, worrying for her brother.
▪ ▪ ▪
Light materialised before Hestan’s eyes. As it slowly gained focus, he sat up, his muscles protesting feebly. A flash of light briefly blinded him and he waited for his eyes to adjust again before looking around. He was still in the marketplace, which was now deserted. The flash of light had come from behind him, and he directed his gaze there curiously. The metal sphere was in the same place too, though he now saw that it was like a chariot of some sort, without the wheels. That seemed a poor comparison, though. The thing had red velvet padding inside with straps around the edges and an odd contraption in the center which was connected to the frame by a large black metal bar. There were two men standing around it, all examining some part of it, and a woman was sitting in the interior tampering with the contraption. The woman looked up, straight at him.
“Hello there, little one. Don’t be scared.” She started to move towards him, and the men glanced up. Hestan watched her approach wearily. The woman helped him to his feet and started to lead him back to the crash site. He was still too weak to resist, and he wondered about that. What had he been hit with? And what was the flash?
“These are my friends, Dornike and Jorkast,” she said, indicating each man respectively. Dornike had spiky black hair and bright blue eyes, and he looked at Hestan kindly. Jorkast had dull brown eyes and messy hair to match, and looked like a man that no one wanted to cross. The woman had murky black eyes and long, flowing black hair with a tint of red. All three of them were wearing identical uniforms, all entirely white.
“And I’m Emelia.” She turned her attention back to the contraption and Hestan quickly asked, “What was that big flash?”
“The emission of white light was caused by one-fifty grams of magnesium left in the secondary storage bay which currently has a malfunctioning hatch. Jorkast is attending to that.”
“Huh.” Most of the words flew over Hestan’s head.
“Told you it was a bad idea to buy one of those magnesium communicators,” Dornike muttered to Jorkast, who scowled.
“They said they’d solved the combustion problem.”
Dornike scoffed. “Combustion is not a problem, it’s the expected behaviour. I don’t know why you couldn’t just get an alloy one like everyone else.”
“Emelia,” Jorkast prompted, changing the subject. “Could you ask the boy where we are?”
“Lurndasti,” replied Hestan without waiting for the relayed message. “Finest town in the Third Kingdom.” He glanced around at the deserted clearing, his pride wavering somewhat. “Most of the time.”
The strange men exchanged a troubled look and whispered softly to each other. Hestan only caught fragments, and even they made no sense.
“… no galaxy code … doesn’t bode well …”
“… corrupted warp data … a new holodisk?”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Emelia said to him. “We apologise for any discomfort caused by the detainer dart. Have a nice day.”
She turned and re-entered the crashed wagon, sitting down with an eerily blank expression on her face. The other two paid her no heed, continuing to talk quickly to each other.
Hestan backed slowly away, collecting the bag of corn he’d dropped as he made for the stables. Many questions raced through his mind, but for now his priority was to get home safely. The corn would sell tomorrow, assuming anyone returned to the markets. He had a feeling there would be at least three white-suited patrons tomorrow, though. They didn’t look to be going anywhere any time soon.
Observations 