Wylde Fyre

By Stephen 'Silverwind Blade' Doyle.

'Zee' originally created by Chris Mills
All other characters are my creations

This story contains bad language in some places, and some strong violence.

Prologue:
A Gathering Storm

In the grand scheme of things, many planets appear the same – blue and green, coated with a generous shroud of pearly-white clouds, and kissed with the golden glow of sunlight. The planet Antheria was no different – it had the required cobalt-blue seas, the deep cornflower blue skies, with cotton-wool clouds, and the lushly rolling expanses of savannah, mountainous forests and beautiful plains and beaches by the score.
Split into one central continent, and several smaller archipelagos, Antheria was home to two distinct races that had evolved over time from the dominant predatory beasts on the planet. It was unsure how they had evolved so quickly, over such a short period of relative time – nor how they were so well dispersed and able to thrive so well, despite their bountiful climate and large numbers – there always seemed to be enough prey for both races – but as was the way of these things, it was never answered.
Both races were genetic families of adaptable hunters, and had their branches throughout the various terrains of the planet and its landmasses. As they had evolved, they had at first been rivals, in food, land, and much else, before they evolved to a point where the two races had reached a standoff – they could either be certain of destroying each other, in a ridiculous and all-out campaign of apocalyptic war, or they could finally think about peace.
The leaders of the two races, old, wise, and tired by now – as were many of their people – took a look at their world, still pristine and beautiful after all, and realised to commit such an atrocity as nuclear war on their world would be a crime against the universe itself, for giving them such a world in the first place, and they put down their weapons, and began to talk as never before – and this time with no knives behind backs, no secret agendas or hidden plots.
For the first time, each appreciated fully the others achievements, the things they had accomplished. The races stood back, and looked at each other’s faults and glories, and saw how to best help their neighbours. Canus and Felness shook hands at last, and then walked onward into the age of new prosperity and peace.
The new capitol of Antheria – united as it now was – began construction, and was named ‘Xerxes’ in the memory of a legendary religious figure, standing for unity and hope. The city became a monument to co-operation and what it could achieve, and went on to become a Mecca for technological, scientific, and cultural development.
The unity continued for 100 years, the races growing intertwined, politically, culturally, and socially, and the ‘bad old days’ were slowly forgotten. The eyes of the Antherian races began to turn outwards from their world, and even from their solar system, as they hungered to learn more about the universe out there – and why not? They had mastered flight and its underlying principles. The elite corps of their civil defence forces – the White Knights – was testament to this, with the ease they displayed in controlling their advanced aircraft in the skies, and their other hi-technology machines.
The first plans began to be drawn up of the spacecraft that would take the Antherian race to the stars… but then, in some of the higher circles of the government, something happened that shook the core of their society to its foundations.

Antherian Year 1131
Capital Xerxes
Main Council Building

Councillor Blake looked again at his advisor from beneath his heavy-lidded eyes, and walked slowly towards the younger man as he repeated his question.
“Are you sure?”
“Positively, sir”, replied the advisor, fidgeting slightly. Councillor Blake’s temper was legendary, as was his passion for firing his advisors.
“The uh, ‘source’ has been checked via carbon dating, as has its surroundings. The dating matches the core samples taken from the ruins at the top of Mount Shezna. The tablet is over sixty thousand years old”.
Councillor Blake shook his head, muttering as he wandered back to the edge of his office, and looked out over the spires and towers of Xerxes.
He did this every day, and he had done so for the last thirty years, ever since he had become a councillor. Every time he had done it since then, he had never failed to be impressed by the visage – the city was a magnificent sight. Elevated parks and municipal areas, roadways running at thirty floors above ground level, and stacked like the parks and the buildings, but not so much that the ground received no sunlight. Beautiful waterfalls, lakes, and rivers, intertwined with the trappings of a modern industrial society, like the glass, metal and plastic of the skyscrapers and arcology ‘indoor towns’, as well as the golden spires of the council chambers themselves that rose over everything. As the last of the sun struck the golden spires of Xerxes, the low chimes announcing nightfall rang across the city, and the light gave way to darkness, broken only by the slow glow of a hundred thousand streetlights softly coming on and illuminating the beauty of the city, followed by a million more pinpricks as house and room lights came on.
The display over, Blake turned back to his advisor. He eyed the young jaguar carefully, noticing the way that the younger man’s tail twitched in agitation as the old leopard studied him.
“All my time as a councillor, I have watched that city at sunset, and known it represented our greatest achievements. And that nothing could prove that we, the Antherian race, were not great, ambitious, intelligent or passionate… but that tablet we have uncovered… it challenges those beliefs – beliefs that I know are held by many of the people who live in the city out there. If they find out what that tablet contains, what do you think the reaction would be?”
The aide considered this for a moment, crossing to look out of the window as his elder beckoned him closer. The answer was clear enough – for the Antherian race – proud, strong, and noble – to hear that they were, perhaps, nothing more than an offshoot or an experiment by some other race – a race whose ruins and statues were left across the surface of their own planet, and long thought to be idols of a forgotten religion.
“It… it’d cause panic sir. Riots, revolts…”
The councillor nodded. “Indeed it would… but I know this already – what else is it you’ve come to tell me?”
The aide paused for a moment, considering the implications of the message he was about to deliver. It would answer questions their people had long held… but it would also mean that the Antherian race would be headed for something they had for so long abandoned and avoided – war.
The aide returned to his briefcase, and removed a slim document wallet, containing a report stamped with several official seals, and in a ‘classified – for your eyes only’ wallet.
“Sir, this document contains the findings from both the tablet, and the chamber it was found in. It’s very… convincing sir, as I think you’ll agree”.
Reluctantly, the councillor took the wallet and began to read. A few pages after the start, he sat down at his desk, and continued. Several after that, he got up, poured himself a stiff drink, and downed it, before continuing. An hour later, he had finished. Closing the document, he leaned back in his chair, and let out a long, slow, sigh. His aide had been right – the document was damning evidence that the race who had existed on this planet before them had somehow foretold or known events that were to come – down to specific details, it seemed. That left the Antherian race with only one possible course of action – which was also outlined in the document.
“Has this news been made available to the council yet?” he asked in a hesitant voice. His aide shook his black-furred head.
“No, sir” answered the jackal softly – he realised how the councillor felt. He had experienced the same reaction as the leopard was feeling now when he read the document. “The council will be informed in a general meeting, to be convened at midday tomorrow”.
“Very well… for the record, I will support the plan outlined in the report… and may the fates have mercy on us all for what we are about to face, and what we are about to do”.

Antherian Year 1132
Kharabata Archipelago
Caronda Island
Somewhere in the jungle

The jungle, like most other types of terrain on Antheria, was lush and plentiful. It took a lot to remember that it was the middle of winter back on the mainland, and that there was probably four inches of snow in Xerxes, as well as chill winds across the continent, as opposed to the sweltering humidity that kept everyone under the jungle canopy panting with heat and exertion. Well, all the canines at the least. They felt sorry for all the cats, which could do nothing but look miserable in the oppressive heat.
For the third time, Silverwind Blade looked over his shoulder at the procession behind him and raised an eyebrow. It amazed him how many people and how much equipment they had bought into this hostile environment. As a soldier, he knew that if they were attacked they’d be screwed in an instant, but he also knew that there was no one out here to do such a thing.
Again he growled softly as the group stopped to remove another obstacle from the path of the slow moving supposedly all-terrain construction and excavation vehicles, and the mobile HQ that had been dragged into the jungle along with vast numbers of personnel and equipment. Above all else, he still had no idea why it was all being done. In hope of finding some answer to this most frustrating of questions, the fox ran on ahead of where he had been holding position with the small group of White Knights who had accompanied the convoy, to the front where it was being led by the only one of them who had come to this place before – Talian Sahram. Standing proudly at the head of the convoy, the red-furred, raven-haired vixen lashed her tail in agitation and annoyance as the convoy had again slowed down. Silverwind caught up beside her, and she turned to look at him with an air of annoyance.
“So, I see again they can’t keep up?”
“Hey, don’t blame me lady” he said, a little defensively, “I’m a White Knight, not an army soldier”.
“Sorry, you’ve used that excuse before, and I still don’t buy it” she said, raising one eyebrow and crossing her arms across her more than ample chest.
“Um…” he said, looking into her amused eyes, and trying to divert his eyes anywhere except her generous chest, before giving a sigh as his mood, and the jungle heat, overtook him. “Listen, why the hell did you bring me out here anyway? I’m a pilot, not a damned archaeologist - and why all the soldiers?”
She smiled at him and turned, heading on into the forest as the last of the vehicles became untangled. Silverwind kept pace easily with her as she walked casually through the undergrowth, long black hair shining with the light, her tail lazily curling and twitching and a cheerful expression on her sharply pointed muzzle.
“Pilots, or so I’m told, Mr Blade, have an innate ability to judge a situation instantly…” she looked at him, again with the cheeky smile, which he returned this time, finding it infectious. “So, why do you think you’re here, Silverwind? As you said – you’re a White Knight, but we have the soldiers - so it’s not for security. You’re not an archaeologist or scientist, so it’s not that either. But you are a pilot”.
“Well, that narrows it down a tad then doesn’t it? You want me to fly something. But we’ve already done all the flying we’re going to in getting here – and that was in a transport, not a fighter or CRV, which is what I’m trained for”.
“I know” she replied simply. “But don’t assume we’ve already done all the flying we’re going to in getting to where we’re going…”
Silverwind stopped for a moment and looked after the shapely vixen’s equally shapely retreating backside. For a moment he wondered if the jungle heat was getting to her – flying at their destination – after all, weren’t they headed for ancient ruins?

Antherian Year 1134
Etruria City

“The court recognises the defendant as guilty of all charges. He stands guilty of murder on mass counts, of the intent to destroy public property, private property, the misuse of military hardware, intent to cause harm and murder, intent to cause fear and suffering, dishonour in the line of duty, dereliction of duty, defiance of White Knight code, breaking of his oath, numerous counts of assault and battery, theft and misuse of government property, theft and misuse of White Knight property, and treason against the people of Antheria”.
The rest of the jury agreed without hesitation, and, for once, there was no murmuring of disagreement in the courtroom as the public and those present looked on at the man who was being tried before them.
His fur as black as the night, was countered with brilliant white on his muzzle and cheeks and the fall of his silver hair and he had an athletic physique that was visible in the standard issue jumpsuit he wore as a prisoner. His powerful hands were in shackles, as were his feet. Both were linked by a chain – everyone here knew that he was dangerous, and not just in body, but his mind as well, A weapon perhaps more powerful than his hands.
The judge looked down at him as two Law Enforcement Patrolmen came to the stand to escort him away.
“Mr Strike, do you have anything you wish to add?”
“I take full responsibility for my actions. I acted with a full and clear conscience, in beliefs I hold firm and with conviction. I do not regret any of the things I have done, as I believe they were in the best interests of the Antherian race”. His voice was calm and clear, cool and steady. Even his expression was calm and firm – he was speaking what he believed to be the truth, it was evident.
The judge flinched slightly, but quickly regained his composure, looking down imperiously over steepled fingers at the wolf, which was now being pulled to his feet.
“Mr Strike… your intelligence and previous accomplishments are well recognised, and betray no reason or evidence as to why you have acted so… aggressively and acted as such a danger and evil to the world. I have no explanation as to why you believe that the destruction of half the Antherian race is any way to further our species, or why you hold such contempt for our species. However, you have had adequate chance to explain yourself. As such, you have been found guilty of your charges, and will be incarcerated in the Aerie penal facility for the foreseeable future”. With that, the judge tapped her spherical gavel on the stone table that lay upon the arm of the throne she was sat upon, and the LEP men took Blackwind away.

Antherian Year 1135
Xerxes Capitol

Councillor Whey looked out at the grey-tinged sky and felt a shuddering sigh of complete and total helplessness wrack his body. Blake was gone now, after committing suicide by jumping from this same window. Now he, Blake’s former aide had been promoted to the position. But he didn’t want it, in these circumstances.
From his window, he could see it all the more clearly, and it made it no better. Throngs of people lined the streets, running in terror and panic – not that there was anywhere to run anymore. The prophecy had come true, and all too soon. The Antherians had fought their best, and would continue to do so… but it was hopeless. The enemy had come, and they were legion. Scores of them had flowed across the beautiful Savannah and plains of the interior, across the hills and forests of the north, and across the icy wastes of the south. Their giant combat monsters, and their flying creatures as much a match for the CRV’s and fighters of the Antherian military, and the White Knights too, the elite, the best of the best – even they were outmatched and overpowered by the enemy – the Marek had arrived, and they were unstoppable. Feeling the sense of despair he was sure his predecessor must have felt, Whey considered the same way out, but decided against it – after all, he had his duty to perform. The Antherians hadn’t tried absolutely everything yet. Turning to the official in his office he gave a nod.
“Do it. And be damned with the consequences. Let us hope our children can forgive us”.
The military man saluted, and left the office. Whey returned his gaze to outside, and shook his head.

Silverwind dropped the fighter into a steep dive, recovering at the last second as the strangely manta ray-like alien fighter plane-creature dropped past him, showering his craft with deadly explosive spines. The machine shuddered, and lights all around his heads-up display blinked red, indicating a series of minor faults and damages. The fox hauled on his control stick and throttle, slowing down enough to blast the creature with missiles and gunfire as it attempted to pull itself back up into a climb and attack him. Seeing it wobble unsteadily and fall into the woodland canopy below, he gave an exultant cry and grinned.
He snarled, the spiralling beast already forgotten. His one eye searched the skies, looking for another target.
His victory was cut short however, as the fighter shuddered, more warnings lighting up – the alien creature returned, despite his strong attacks. His eye widened in disbelief, but before he could commit to combat once more, his radar indicated a far larger enemy ahead – looking up, he gasped as he saw the reading was true – one of the enemy mother ships was in the area, and had begun disgorging more of the flying creatures, as well as large mecha-type creatures, equal to the size of the three-storey high combat robots he and his White Knight comrades piloted, as well as the less advanced versions piloted by the regular forces. His radio chirped, and his thumb pressed the ‘receive’ stud on the throttle.
“Silverwind, this is the Aerie – Military HQ has issued us with a warning – they’re deploying their last asset against the enemy mother ships. Get ready for impact; they’re heading into your area in about five minutes!”
“Roger, control! Silverwind out!”
Silverwind dropped the fighter at high speed. He knew what was about to happen – their last asset had been discussed at length, and it was a final, scorched earth of a tactic, sure-fire suicidal policy, on a planet with one continent.
He had no desire to be high when it occurred, and the trees and other ground objects would give him better cover and protection from the blast. As his altitude decreased, the fox quickly made preparations, lowering his tinted visor, pointing the nose of the fighter away from the ship and shutting down extraneous systems. He’d barely done this before; there was little way to prepare. His fur prickled in agitation, and he felt an unease creeping over him, as he knew what was to come. Despite all his earlier battles, earlier conflicts and all of their endless turmoil and scars on him, he’d never, ever, come to this stage… but he’d never expected to fight invaders from another world.
Almost on cue, the radar picked up the incoming signs of a fast-moving object, and Silverwind could make out the slight glint of metal on something that arced high above the forest, and a silvery vapour trail in the morning sky, one that arced over gently as he watched.
For a moment everything stopped. The birds stopped singing, the sounds of battle died away, the radio went quiet. The world, war-torn and battle-damaged as it was seemed to be at peace for a deceptive moment.
Then there was a sound so loud it overwhelmed everything else, like the sound of the world being torn in two. It was accompanied by a blast of light so overwhelming, it blocked out everything, even in the shielded cockpit where only chinks of light got though. After a few seconds this died away, and was replaced with a tornado of wind and sound, as the light cleared. A dull rumble sounded, and finally Silverwinds eyes adjusted to the normalcy of the light after the massive flash from the detonation of the nuclear weapon.
Systems in his aircraft came back online one by one, and he climbed and turned back, hoping to see the ship disappeared in smoke and fire.
His heart sank into a mass of depression and fear. Bold as day, and obvious as the sun shining through the clouds, the ship remained. All of the enemy were gone, the smaller ones disappeared altogether, vaporised by the blast. The ship itself though was mostly undamaged, and even now disgorged more of the creatures into the sky. Rage filled Silverwind and he slammed the throttles of the fighter up to maximum, heading directly for the head of the formation, and the black and orange creature he saw leading them.

Long ago
Somewhere else
On an important day

“Slowly, the unity was unravelled, the paths unbound. The knights are stripped of their honour and glory, and cast unto the earth, as the warriors are too denied their chance, forced instead to become thieves and backstabbers. The people are chained, bound, and enslaved, forced to serve that which they hate in the name of the great devourer. But there are still those who are free… and among them there is a hope, as the spark of the superior is still there. And in that, lie the people’s hopes – and the hopes of the universe. They shall rise to the call that is sent, and will exceed all expectations, as will those who fights alongside. There shall be things of wonder, the past shall be renewed, in service of the future, and shall aid in the final stand against the devourer. Both light and dark will show their true colours at the final test, and one will emerge as the victor”.
Angela re-read the last few lines to herself, saying them softly and her fingertips moving over the words carved into the transparent hovering glass tablet, afraid to speak any louder in case she broke the spell. Musing on the words, she knew her time was nearly come, and there was no escaping it. Frowning, she flexed her wings, and lashed all of her nine bushy white-tipped tails together. Once the air would have been charged with power, now it felt stagnant and empty.
She looked around the chamber, and gave a resigned sigh and a final nod. There was nothing else to be done – the Superiors, as her race were named, had made all of the preparations. The rest was in their successors hands. She felt a sensation like a tugging beneath her breastbone, and she knew it had come. All sense of herself and her surroundings left her, as her body finally became unnecessary. With her regrets and a heartfelt flash of anger and guilt, she knew she would return at some point, but she knew it would not be for perhaps millennia.
All sense of time faded…

Time moved on.

~To Be Continued- in WYLDE FYRE: Chapter One