CHAPTER 4

THE BLUE ONES

Keva is an isolated and small but lovely little city-state located on the western coast of the continent of Cos on the planet Ares. It is surrounded by the Arboran Wilderness on three sides and by the dread Marshland Waste on the fourth that feeds into the deadly Serpent Water.

One reason Keva has held onto it’s independence for so long is because of its vast isolation from all other groups of people on Ares. Even the hated Winged-men of Zar were loath to deal with these isolated and strange green people. They were not like the usual Greens. But there was another reason for the protection of Keva—it was because of the unique and powerful mind powers the Kevan people possessed. Especially the long-lived Old Ones. Because of the mind powers of the Old Ones, Keva’s existence was able to be masked and remain unknown to almost all of the green people of the planet, and especially the Zarans. The location of Keva had been kept hidden, effectively masked, and was an absolute secret. That is how the Kevans had been able to maintain their independence and freedom for so long. They jealously guarded their secrets.

And the Kevans liked it that way just fine.

The Winged-men knew about the existence of the secret city of Keva but they had no idea where the small city-state might be located. Over the years they had seeked it out with various expeditions but they always came up empty. Eventually they did not see Keva worth their while to expend valuable time and energy to conquer and enslave. After all, the city would take much hard work to find, and it only held a mere few thousand green people. It was not worth the effort, and the Zaran’s were essentially lazy occupiers. These Kevan people, or “cattle” as the Zaran winged monsters called all green people of Ares were just not worth the trouble. The Zarans—once masters of the world of Ares—would rather concentrate their energies on the large cities they ruled so brutally, for these held so much wealth and power and many green slaves. And green slaves made delicious food for these winged demons and were valuable for other reasons as well.

Until recently, the winged monsters had controlled six magnificent old Ares cities originally built long ago by the Ancient Ones of the green race. These had been cities from the glory days of Ares, when the green people had a high civilization of peace and prosperity, before the Winged-men came. The cities had been conquered by the Winged-men long ago when they had first come to the planet thousands of years in the past. Then the green race had a flourishing civilization with glorious cities, but everything changed for the Greens when the Winged-men came to their world. The world was turned upside down when the Greens had been conquered, their cities occupied—their people enslaved. The Winged-men ruled viciously for centuries oppressing the Greens dreadfully.

Then recently everything had changed again on Ares.

Now the world had been turned upside down once more, this time for the Winged-men everything had changed forever. That was because of the advent upon Ares of a single Earthman, a great warrior, by the name of Jon Kirk. It was this Jon Kirk who had freed the green race from the Zarans and then been proclaimed Protector of the Greens and the Emperor of a new Green Empire.

Of course Shamar had heard the tales of war and victory, and like many of his people he did not mourn the defeat nor passing of the occupation of Ares by the dread Winged-men. Shamar was the king of Keva, a true Kevan in heart and soul and a great warrior who was brave, honest and cared about his people and beloved city. As most Kevans, he was not ignorant of the outside world and recent events that had changed that world, but he did not overly concern himself with them. Now he was on his way back home from an unsuccessful hunting trip into the dark Arboran Wilderness when he had been spotted and saw that he would be attacked by a small force of Winged-men. It was a small group of the flying monsters, a troop of wily survivors who had escaped the new emperor’s wrath and were now apparently starving, having been exiled into this small corner of the planet to hide.

Shamar could see that his attackers, unlike other winged fiends of the past he remembered, seemed to be a ragged and hungry lot who appeared desperate for food. That was not good for him. That meant that they were seeking to feast upon human flesh, which was exclusively their main food source and he did not want to be their next meal.

Now the winged monsters laughed as they saw the single green man holding his puny sword outward in defense. They drew their own weapons in a mad dive down to the forest floor, each one seeking to be the first to claim the human as his prize—and his next meal.

The Winged-men screamed terribly as they dived down towards the lone green man, as they did so they cursed threats upon the warrior when they saw him stand his ground fierce and boldly awaiting their attack. Who was he to be so brave, they thought? They would show him! The Kevan did not run from the winged fiends as many people did who were so fearful at the mere sight of these terrifying flying beasts. This man, this Kevan, stood his ground defiantly, sword in hand, determined to sell his life dearly. He was brave and noble, a true King of Keva.

Shamar sighed and awaited the inevitable, determined to take as many of the loathsome creatures down into death with him. The Afterworld would soon have a full load of new occupants if he had anything to say about it.

Then suddenly, and to Shamar’s utter surprise and astonishment he heard a loud dull hum immediately followed by a mighty blast of bright light. He noticed what seemed to be a mysterious white beam hurl itself upwards at his attackers just as they came down above his head to do battle with him. It was certainly some kind of beam of light, and it shone with a white hot radiance. As it hit the flying creatures they instantly burst into flame, quickly roasted into so many pieces of charred leathery flesh instantly to become black ashes that fell dead down to the ground at his feet.

Shamar was astonished, “What magic is this?”

The Kevan king had never seen the likes of such a thing before. The white beam had hit the creatures full-on and caused them to fall from the sky and land in heaps of charred flesh upon the ground right in front of him. They were all dead. Very seriously dead. All were burned beyond recognition. The smell of burnt flesh was terrible.

The Kevan king quickly looked to see where that mysterious beam had come from but he could not determine its location. He did not see anyone now, and the beam had mysteriously vanished, just as quickly as it had appeared. He could not see or smell anything other than the roasted Zaran flesh, yet Shamar knew that someone or something was out there, and whatever it was, it was most certainly responsible for this wondrous event. Whoever it or they were, they had saved his life.

“Come out, show yourselves!” Shamar called. There was no answer to his plea.

Shamar continued, “We are not enemies! I thank you for your help!”

But Shamar’s words were met with silence. That was strange. Now he knew something deeper was involved here. Something mysterious.

Shamar knew this not just by the evidence of his own eyes, nor the logic of what he had just witnessed, but furthermore because the Kevans are not an ordinary green-skinned people. They are special. They hold a mighty secret. They can feel the presence of enemies with a separate sense that allows them to ‘smell out’ enemies or danger. They also have mind powers that can sometimes read thoughts—though it is only the Old Ones who have this power to any serious degree.

Now Shamar’s special sense told him that there was something out there that could be extremely hostile and dangerous and it was not Kevan in origin. He also felt it was something a thousand-fold more dangerous than even the dread Winged-men—and he wondered what that could be. The mystery intrigued him and he knew he had to get to the bottom of it.

The Kevan king’s mind-powers told him he was surrounded by a powerful unseen presence, and whether it was an enemy or not, he could not yet tell. However, it did seem to want him alive for some reason. And though his eyes could see nothing, his senses told him—his senses saw that something was definitely there. He steeled himself and focused his forces. Then he suddenly saw it with his mind power, some blurred image of his hidden enemy.

Now his Kevan mind power, more concentrated and strained to the limit, allowed him to see that there was some manner of ship landed upon the ground of the clearing no more than ten yards from him. He could tell from reading the life forces within that vessel that there were about ten mysterious occupants aboard. It was a rather large ship of some kind, but it was entirely invisible. An invisible ship! It was amazing and he knew he had to get to the bottom of this discovery. He also noticed there seemed to be plenty of room inside this mysterious unseen ship for the small amount of crew, and he wondered why.

Sharmar’s heart grew cold, fearful, and that fear grew, for his secret senses told him clearly that while these hidden beings had killed his winged enemies, they could still be dangerous and perhaps even something far worse. He could feel an evil force emanating from the vessel. For the first time in his life Shamar knew real fear. Fear was a reaction this Kevan king had not often felt before and he did not like the feeling at all.

Instantly, Shamar looked hard at the direction of the hidden ship and backed away from it carefully, but as he did so his mind saw the enemy inside their strange vessel. He could not see all clearly, but he could make out impressions. They appeared human enough to him, but their skin hue seemed to be a dark tinge of blue, not green as were all real people of Ares. Or, at least all people that were now known on Ares! That was most strange. Who were these mysterious unknown, unseen blue people? Shamar could not see them with his eyes, only his mind, and he could not hear them with his ears, but he knew they were there inside their vessel talking and making plans. They were making plans for him!

Shamar unsheathed his sword once again and waited for any attack that might come from these strange intruders, “If that is the way it is to be, so be it!”

The Kevan king stood patiently waiting for these mysterious hidden intruders to reach him, for he knew there was no escape for him from them. They could see him plainly but he could not really see them well at all—and there was also the fact that there were ten of them and only one of him. Shamar was outnumbered but fully prepared to accept the inevitable. Aside from that however, he was most curious about these strange blue-skinned newcomers to his planet of Ares. Allowing this interaction might be the best way to find out more about them. So he waited for them. They seemed to want to communicate with him, or to take him as a prisoner for some reason but they did not seem to seek his death, or so his secret sense told him. Regardless, if they had wanted him dead, they could have used their deadly beam upon him, as they had the Zarans. So he would wait patiently and see what came of it, then make the most of it.

However, Shamar decided he would rather try to reason with them first, before having to resort to any violence. As yet, they had shown him no actual animosity. In fact, had they not killed his winged enemies and actually saved his life? So Shamar decided to wait to see what would come of meeting with these strange Blues— and what he might learn of them. But if it came down to battle, if that is what these mysterious people wanted, then he would fight like fury to prevent his capture by them and take as many of them as he could down into the Afterworld.

Shamar strained his mind-sight to look closer at these blue-skinned intruders to his world. Who were these unknown beings? These Blues? Shamar wondered about them but he could not answer that question yet. He realized with amazement that these beings possessed the secret of invisibility. He could sense their presence but not actually see them—but they were there. He was sure of that. And now he realized they had exited their vessel and were circling around him, so that he would be trapped and not be able to escape.

There were ten of them and he wondered what kind of man or creature they could be? They were not Winged-men at all. That surprised him. And they were not green men either, as far as he could tell, or certainly no manner of green men he had ever encountered before. They were Blues? But what did that mean? What were Blues? They were something totally different and new. He had heard tall tales and rumors passed down from the ancient days about mysterious blue-skinned men who had once lived on Ares in the dim, dark past. But until today he had thought the stories merely myths. Now he tried vainly to remember his long-ago childhood nursery rhymes and stories and see if they could help him put any part of this discovery into some context. All he could recall was that they were very scary stories. Were these Blues those mysterious people known as the Blue Ones?

Shamar felt the intruders moving in closer towards him, tightening the net around him, and finally he knew that regardless of his fighting ability or whatever defense he might put up against these beings, the king of the Kevans, would eventually become their prisoner.