Saving Hibreon Ch. 00 - Prologue

This story follows Getting Lost and They're All Crazy. If you read those first, you'll be more familiar Wy and Lost when you read this one. I'm planning this as a large work, submitting it in one chapter per month. There won't be sex scenes in every chapter, but these three characters do enjoy one another as frequently as possible. ;)

Thank you, RNebular for editing!

I hope you all enjoy this story.

-Guinevere A. Hart

***

Kytia stood at the exit of the Eloua dropship that hovered within the tropopause of Hibreon's atmosphere. Home was only a step away, but it was long step. Her hands were supposed to be sweaty, but the Eloua biotech in the lining of her gloves whisked the moisture away. It was unnatural, alien, wrong. For the last three years of her life, everything had been wrong, except for Wyfrost and Lost. Now they had a chance to go home, and all she had to do was take one step.

Kytia's voice shook when she announced, "I have to pee." She tried to let go of Lost's hand, but suddenly, her petite and delicate witch had a grip of steel.

"Nai," Lost replied in their native language. Then in her broken Barter she added, "You not." The witch tilted her head towards the clouds beneath the ship. "Home, Kytia."

Jumping out of a ship was stupid. Kytia tried to free herself once more, but Wyfrost made the decision for all three of them. He stepped from the safety of the Eloua craft, towing Kytia and Lost behind him.

It didn't matter how many times they'd practiced. This was the most unnatural thing Kytia had ever done. It took only seconds for terror to congeal into rage, and she shouted inside her helmet, "I fucking hate this!"

Plummeting along beside her, Lost laughed like a lunatic. To Kytia, "funny" was a ribald anecdote, a practical joke, dogs dressed in people clothes. There was absolutely nothing humorous in their present situation. So, Kytia yelled again, because she had nothing to hit.

Wyfrost's deep and serene voice was in her earpiece then. "Take it easy, Kytia. We've done this again and again. It's all good. Just relax."

She thought he was only calm, because the Eloua had medicated him against his fear of being in enclosed spaces. It was the only way to get him into the armor they'd made for him. Though he was the love of her life, Kytia hated Wyfrost's peace. "Fuck off, Wy!"

He persisted, "I love you, too, dear. But if you don't let go of Lost, she won't be able to cast. I figure we'll get a nice long two and a half minutes to think about what kind of crater we'll make when we hit the ground."

Kytia realized her eyes were tightly closed. She forced them open and looked to her right. Lost's skin-tight suit blazed blue along the left side of her body, for the Eloua had designed it to accommodate the magical marks. She was still giggling, but she watched Kytia expectantly. If she didn't let her witch go, they were all dead.

She released her grip, and Lost cast her spell. The cloud cover warped around them, like a reflection on rippled water. The witch manipulated space and time, controlling their fall with a precision that belied her insane cackling. Passing through Lost's warp made Kytia feel sick to her stomach, and she shut her eyes again.

They landed safely on the stretch of beach they'd aimed for. Kytia silently congratulated herself for not spewing inside her helmet. She immediately took it off and drew in her first breath of home. She dropped her helm, tore off her glove, and sank her fingers deep into the fine, warm sand.

She said, "I used to play here when I was a kid. Almost every summer day we were out here. There was always something fun to do, you know. It's summer now, and it seems weird that no one's here."

Wyfrost answered in a muted tone. "They're slaves now, Kytia. They'll come back once they're freed."

Kytia remembered the day her people fell. The Ay'niki used their energy weapons and turned them to ash— so much ash. She'd seen her best friend's head crushed beneath an enemy boot. Her throat clicked and she gagged on the memory. Ox had been better than her in every way, but she'd lived, and he didn't. The words came with a choked gasp, "If there's anyone left to set free..."

Wyfrost quietly asked, "Hey, you okay?"

She stood up, put her glove back on and grabbed her helmet. It was not the time to get weak and sentimental. "I'm just fine," she answered. Then she called out, "Lost?"

Lost had wandered several yards down the beach. What seemed to hold her attention was a grotto that jutted out into the surf. The woman had her helmet off as well, dangling loosely in her hand. Her back was straight, shoulders squared, long tapered ears tilted forward.

As bold as she'd been, and as much time as she'd spent on the beach, Kytia had never entered the grotto. The place had an otherworldly aura, one that made people steer clear. The hollow spaces moaned and hissed. Creeping shadows seemed to come alive in the crevices. Her adult mind understood the play of light and wind and surf, but she still felt like it was haunted. And it was a good spot for an Ay'niki scout to hide.

Her witch's posture put Kytia on alert. She dropped the helm again and grabbed her three-sectioned staff. The weapon had been built and modified by the Sil, the militant, snake like allies of the Eloua. The ends of the staff could be powered to inflict additional crippling pain when a target is struck. Kytia activated that power, and the weapon hummed to life in her hands.

Her awareness heightened as she searched their environs for an enemy. Kytia stalked up beside Lost and whispered, "What is it? Did you see something? Is it one of those damned aliens?"

Without taking her eyes from the grotto, Lost reached out and gently pressed Kytia's arm down. In their language, she murmured, "No. Put that away."

Impatient, Wy called after the two of them, "Is there a change in the plan?"

From where she stood, Kytia could just see a break in the nearby forest that marked the way home. The narrow, westward path was long and meandering, but it was a path she knew well. Soon, she would see her former home city, Raelinholm. Kytia made a silent vow that there was not a living soul in the multiverse who could ever tear her from her home world. Never again.

Kytia asked Lost, "Well, is there?"

Finally, Lost looked up at Kytia, then at Wy. She seemed to shrug off whatever was troubling her, and she shook her head in the negative. Together, they walked back towards Wyfrost.

Wy looked for a moment into Lost's eyes, and Kytia felt a twinge of jealousy at the way he could read their witch. He summed it up immediately. "You've been here before. Memories coming back to you? Are you going to be alright?"

Lost nodded once and in her pidgin Barter added, "Yeah, m'okay. Me friends— they died. Murder. Buried in that place."

Haunting confirmed, Kytia thought. It was probably the most Lost had ever said about what had happened to her before. When Kytia and Wy had found Lost, she had no memory of who she was or where she'd come from. The Eloua knew her by the blue swirling tattoos on the left side of her face and body. The aliens had done something to restore her memory, but she had yet to share much of it with Kytia or Wy.

Wyfrost lowered his head and solemnly spoke, "I'm sorry, Lost."

Most of the time, Lost was happy-go-lucky. At times, she was even silly, in Kytia's opinion. Since she'd regained her mind, though, she could turn in an instant, like snuffing out a candle. She would remember something, and it was as if her spirit wandered in a time and place that her loved ones had no access to. It was Kytia's hope that once they'd settled in at Raelinholm and established some kind of normal life, that Lost would open up about what she remembered.

They could never settle in Raelinholm if they didn't take it back from the Ay'niki first. They had a job to do, and Kytia wanted to be about it. Making a quick decision, she declared, "Once we've driven out the gods forsaken blue-skins, we'll come back here. If we can find their remains, we'll lay your friends to rest with some proper dignity. I promise, sweetie."

The three of them headed down the narrow, graveled path toward the city. They stopped just at the edge of the woods, where the path met a true road. From there, they could see the walls of Raelinholm and the strip where the Ay'niki launched their fighters to engage the Eloua ships in orbit. Though there were guards on the walls, most of the blue-skins were focused on the sudden orbital attack.

The Eloua had decided to help Kytia take her home world back from the Ay'niki who had enslaved and decimated her people. Her allies considered themselves pacifists, but for centuries they'd employed the militant and technologically advanced Sil. The snake-like Sil were devoted to the Eloua to the point of near worship. According to Lost, the Eloua's "peace" simply meant they didn't want to get their own hands dirty.

A war had just been started on her behalf, and Kytia worried over the kind of debt she'd owe for it. The Eloua wanted a place on Hibreon for research, they'd told her. They were nocturnal beings who lived under the sea. Once she had her home back, supposedly she'd never know they were there. Still, over the past three years, Kytia had learned hard that nothing good ever came cheap.

She didn't trust the Eloua, but Wy and Lost did. Kytia wanted to be wrong. So, she'd swallowed that concern, shoving it down into her gut where it could join the rest of the emotions she didn't want to deal with. Wyfrost, she thought, was smarter than she was. And Lost, in her own way, was much wiser. She trusted her lovers.

As they approached Raelinholm, she refocused on the job at hand. Kytia halted their march and scanned the area. The Ay'niki had been busy in the last few years of their occupation. They'd left most of the city intact, but leveled the surrounding grounds to make room for their fighters and shuttles.

"Gods damn it," Kytia snarled. "Everywhere I look, there's alien shit touching my stuff." She heaved a sigh and reined in her thinking. She reminded herself, "One fucking mess at time."

The "mess" they needed to handle first was a large tower that had been erected nearby. At the top was the Ay'niki communications array. If she had her way, Kytia would make everything the way it was before she'd been taken. However, she'd invited the Eloua to live on her planet, so that particular piece of technology could be useful in the future.

Kytia tilted her head toward the tower. "Wy and Lost, the two of you get up there and disable that device. Remember, just shut it down. Don't wreck it. We may be able to use it in the future."

"Don't worry," Wyfrost said. "You just stay sharp, and wreck Ay'niki face if they come around." To Lost he asked, "We got this, don't we, sweetie?"

"Yeah," Lost replied. "Got this. You break a face, Kytia, 'kay?"

"It's what I do best, love."

Wy had a knack for alien technology. Kytia knew he could disable their communications, without destroying the array. Lost was Wy's transportation, and Kytia would stay on the ground to keep any nosy blue-skins out of their way. They moved closer, keeping on alert for guards who might be watching the tower.

Lost's marks brightened, and a large hole formed in the air before them. It was always disconcerting to watch the woman's portal magic, and Kytia wondered about any residual damage that might be caused making so many holes in space and time. They could step right through Lost's doorway and directly stand atop the three-hundred-foot tower. Wrong as that seemed to Kytia, it was better than climbing the structure.

Lost and Wy walked through, and the tear sewed itself shut behind them. Kytia blinked and shook her head at the quickly fading light of the portal. She looked up and saw the two of them moving at the top. Lost gave her a wave, and she heard Wy's voice in her earpiece. "We're good. Just take me a couple of seconds here."

Kytia kept watch for any activity on the ground. One of the Ay'niki mechanics on the strip paused in his work and stood up. He cocked his head and took several steps toward the base of the tower. Kytia remained perfectly still, trusting in the stealth function of her suit. As much as she wanted to fight, the guy wasn't worth the effort. The mechanic stared right at her without seeing her. He shook his head as if to clear it, and then he turned around and went back to work.

Kytia didn't expect any real excitement until they realized their comms were down. By then, she and her companions would be on to the next phase. The fight she wanted most was with the officers she knew were tucked away inside the palace. Once the Ay'niki command center was hers, she could open the gates to the city and let the Sil ground troops in.

As he'd said, Wy only needed a few seconds. His voice came back over the link, this time to convey info to their Elouan allies in orbit. "Phase one's done. Over."

The commanding officer aboard the Eloua battlecruiser responded, "Go for phase two. Out"

Her companions came back to her in the same way they went up. Wy proudly held up a crystalline plate the size of his hand. He tucked the plate into a compartment in his suit. "That's it?" Kytia asked, dubious of his success.

"Will you just trust me? You wanted me to break it without breaking it, and that's what I did. Once we take the city from them, all I have to do is plug this back in, and we're good."

"Okay, but we need to move. It won't take them long to figure it out, and I want us to be in the tunnels by then."

***

They were pressed for time, because the Ay'niki would be investigating their broken device soon. Lost quickly opened the way for them to teleport to the next part in Kytia's plan. Kytia referred to the place as the Sacred Grove. The ylf'nim of Raelinholm buried their dead with the roots of living trees, symbolic of continuation. Most of the trees in the large grove were beautifully decorated with baubles and charms, ribbons and wreaths, remembrances for souls to carry into their next life.

Lost took off her helmet and tucked her gloves inside it. She pressed her palm to the trunk of a tree and closed her eyes. There was a power in the sacred space. The energy there hushed the spirit and matched the rhythm of Lost's pulse. This was a nexus point, and the heart of the world was strong here.

Kytia broke the stillness with, "Lost, what are you doing? Put your gear back on. There could be Ay'niki in here with us."

Lost had been to Raelinholm over two hundred years before, when the noble city was only a small keep. The grove hadn't been established then. As she took a slow look around, Lost realized that they had put their burial ground right where the original fort had been built. The ylf'nim had come a long way in a couple hundred years.

A tragic magical error had flung Lost through time. Now that she was returned to Hibreon, she longed for something familiar, but she'd been thrown too far forward. There was nothing for her here. She had nothing except Kytia and Wy, but maybe that was enough.

In ylf'nim, she reassured Kytia. "The Ay'niki aren't welcome in this place. They're afraid of the power here."

Kytia automatically translated for Wyfrost. Then she asked, "How do you know that, Lost? What power are you talking about?"

Lost pointed further into the grove. There, just barely visible beneath the undergrowth and the exposed roots of an older tree, were the dismembered parts of an Ay'niki soldier. Lost took Kytia's hand to get her attention and pointed to yet another victim of the grove's wrath.

Wyfrost moved toward a decaying limb trapped under a root, and he knelt to examine it. "Damn," he muttered.

Kytia was more expressive. "What the actual fuck?" she said with a heavy tone of aggression.

When Kytia and Wy both turned to her, Lost shrugged and put her hand back on the tree. There was a spirit present. It was older than the trees, had been there far longer than the ylf'nim, and it was furious. In Barter, she explained as best she could. "Mad. Big, big mad."

Wyfrost asked, "The ghosts aren't mad at us though, right?"

Lost didn't know for certain who the ghosts were mad at, if there were ever any ghosts at all. Given time, she could enter a trance and find out, but they had important work to do. Whatever the spirit was, it had left them alone thus far. The evidence that she and her two companions were still alive would have to suffice. She put on a confident grin for Wy and shook her head, "Nai. We good."

Wy's eyes twitched with suspicion, "You sure?"

Lost rolled her eyes, "Pfft. Yeah, yeah."

Kytia growled, "Well then, come on, gods damn it," and she marched on double-time. Calling over her shoulder she ordered, "And put your damn helmet back on your head, Lost."

Lost fell in step beside Wy and said, "Bossy."

"Yeah," he replied with a lopsided grin. "Tell me about it."

When they came to the center of the grove, they found part of a wood and stone building. The remnant of the ancient keep was warped. Some extreme force had twisted the structure, blending wood, stone, and earth together. In places the texture was smooth like marble, while other spots were blackened and bubbled like cooled lava.

Kytia switched from boss to tour guide. "This is all that's left of the original Raelinholm Keep. When Malevaur started construction on his palace, he took a lot of materials from the site. He left this though. I guess you can see why. According to history, there were demons here in his younger days. It was their evil magic that twisted this place and killed his father. It's why he hunted the magic users to extinction. At least that was the propaganda I was taught in school."

Lost felt the breath leave her body. Everything in her periphery darkened. Her vision funneled toward that warped chunk of history— her history. She knew the truth, and the only real evil that day had been Malevaur himself. Her mentor, Sabrael, was no demon. He was only a sick Eloua. Prince Dakath was a misunderstood wizard, and his father was just a gullible nobleman.

When Lost touched the warped stone, memories hit her hard, a rapid-fire onslaught of sight, sound, fear, anguish, and agony. Flashes of a fight between ylf'nim guards and the pair of Sil who'd come to Hibreon with her. In the end, Sabrael took a matter disruption sphere into himself to save her. In the confusion, her spell and Prince Dakath's went off at the same time as the explosion, all while Malevaur stood sneering in the doorway. She could still see the glint in his eye, as he closed the door on his own father and brother.

She felt herself falling, and for a second, Lost thought she was once again being swallowed by the gods of chaos. Then Kytia's voice broke through, and she realized she was still on Hibreon, still standing on her own feet. Kytia said, "Lost, what's going on? Do you remember something?"

Lost didn't know how to explain any of it to Kytia and Wyfrost. She couldn't understand it herself. What could she even say?

...I came here with the alien who raised me, but he was mentally unstable. So, he played god until we blew up your town and left your people with only a megalomaniacal tyrant to rule your kingdom. Sorry about that, Kytia...

No, that wouldn't do at all. So, Lost did what she usually did when they asked her about it. She pressed her lips together and firmly shook her head.

Wyfrost quietly stated, "It's okay. Nobody's going to make you talk about it if you don't want to. Just so you know, we'll be here when you do."

Kytia glanced between the wrecked walls and Lost. She said, "There's nothing you can say, not one gods damned word, that would ever make me love you any less. I just want to know that, because I fucking love you, okay?" Endearing words were a rarity from Kytia.