The 5th Great Rivilius Conflict

Write a story about someone looking for a sign in a dark sky.

This world has turned to darkness.

Drayven stood knee deep in warm, weedy waters. He could feel the gentle tide pushing waves against his slick muscular legs, like a calming massage. But all was not calm. He let out a wet cough, his sparkling black eyes peered through the wall of smoke surrounding him.  With his secondary protective eyelids engaged to protect his sensitive aquatic eyes, he took in the landscape around him as the smoke cleared. That which had once been his home was now on fire. 

The wet and lush rolling green highlands that had once been bustling with life were now scorched and black. The screams of his people, and the land walkers whom they battled, echoed through the highlands and into the jagged mountainous monstrosities that surrounded the large lake and highlands. The snow capped mountains seemed to cut into the sky like jagged teeth, thus his people had named them “The World’s Mouth”, and that is where the land walkers made their home. As Drayven took in the scene, he heard screams and blaster fire echoing from the closest cluster of shell shaped huts which embodied the traditional architecture of his people. This caused him to recoil deeper into the calming waters. They were coming.

For millennia, the watersleepers and landwalkers had lived in peace. Their people, although vastly different both biologically and culturally, had fought a planet defacing war thousands of years ago that had nearly brought both races to extinction, which had only been deterred by the intervention of the Galactic Order and their endless armies and resources. This war, and most conflicts between the landwalkers and watersleepers, was over control of a precious resource unique to their home planet of Rivilius. The Rivilius crystals.

These bright aqua colored crystals form where the World’s Mouth of the landwalkers meets the wet highlands of the watersleepers. The immense geological pressure of the evermoving World’s Mouth infusing endlessly with the rich mineral filled waters of the lake being absorbed into the highlands, creating a beautiful, but powerful crystal. Rivilius crystals were religiously and culturally significant to the watersleepers for thousands of years, while ignored mostly by the landwalkers. That was, until the Galactic Order sent their surveyors to the peaceful planet, and declared Rivilius crystals an immensely potent power resource. One small crystal shard, when harnessed correctly, could power a blaster rifle for eternity, or a larger shard, a starship that would spend 1000 years exploring the outer reaches of space.

Since then, thousands of years of conflict have been fueled by the riches that come with the harvesting of these crystals. The landwalkers believing they held the rights to the harvesting of the crystals, as their World’s Mouth pressurized the crystals to fruition, and the watersleepers believing that they held the claim to harvesting as the crystals were nothing without the minerals from their waters. In the end, the Rivilius crystals needed both lands to form. Recent geological activity causing major earthquakes had accelerated The World’s Mouth drift significantly, causing the largest bloom of Rivilius crystals ever seen in the planet's recorded history, and there were riches to be had in this everbloom.

Drayven continued to peer through the smoke towards the closest cluster of dwellings, where the screams and blaster fire had now stopped. He glanced over his shoulder into the vast blackness of the lake behind him, where his government was surely assembling their armies to rise from the lake and take action. Although they would surely be preoccupied with the major coastal cities, and not this small village of herb gatherers. As he stared, he took note of the billions of stars and their broken reflections sparkling over the lulling waves like the thousands of souls of his people being smashed by the landwalkers in the highlands. The horizon, where the Lake God and Sky God met, glowed a dim silvery gray. He must search for survivors.

The amphibious humanoid navigated through the smoke, the calming warmth of the lake replaced by raging heat of the fires as he approached the burning hamlet of Telt’fal. He began to jog toward the closest hut, the spongy grasses of the highlands splashing with every step. Stealth was not an evolutionary trait his people had inherited. Resting his back against the smooth chitin, he shuffled along the warped rounded base of the structure to get a better look  toward the center of the hamlet.

Before he could get a clear view of the full carnage of the village, he caught a glimpse of quick movement across the village center, a large pale muscular tail with jagged spikes passing behind a dwelling. They were here.

In the village center, there was a large lit bonfire with cooking equipment, still boiling a large cauldron of whatever the people of this village were preparing before they were slaughtered. Several blaster hole riddled bodies lay in an imperfect circle around the bonfire, as if praying to the flames. Drayven stood completely still and continued to watch and listen as he prayed to the Lake God that the landwalker patrol would move on. He heard the serpent like hisses of the landwalkers moving further away from the village limits, he was safe to make his move.

Drayven shuffled along the chitin outer wall of the first dwelling until he got to the console board which was flickering a dim blue, signaling that the metal blast door was open. He peered into the darkness of the simple one room home and listened. There was no movement, no firelight, no electronics flickering, no smells and no signs of life. He slowly crept through the entrance and into the circular enclosure, his sensitive eyes adjusting to the complete darkness almost immediately. And then he smelt it.

The smell of charred meat filled his gills and he recoiled. He covered his gills with his webbed hands for a brief moment as his body adjusted to the stench. He scanned the room and noticed singed blaster marks smearing the shelled wall, behind a small bed. Watersleeper beds were usually a rectangular tank filled with circulated lake water, weeds and, for the best of sleeps, bottomed with soft sand. Drayven approached the tank, the usual bubbling waters still and glasslike.

As Drayven’s field of view gave him a better look of what was behind the tank, he saw a tiny webbed hand and with one more step, the sprawled corpse of a juvenile watersleeper riddled with blaster marks, came into view. The young girl's large black eyes continued to stare wide at the ceiling in terror, but there was no more sparkle anymore, just darkness. Drayven felt his gills swell with mucus and he disengaged his protective lids, letting hot tears fill his eyes. They were slaughtering innocents, this conflict was different. This was genocide.

Drayven leaned down, picked up the light corpse, cradled her for a second, and sent a prayer. Looking up at the ceiling, he imagined the billions of stars and galaxies overhead of him. I do not pray to you often, but if you do exist, please help us Sky God, please help us. The Lake God has forsaken us. He then gently lowered the girl into the watery bed, watching as her body slowly and peacefully sank to the bottom of the tank.

A low distant hiss caused Drayven to bolt to attention, his muscles tightened and his protective lids snapped back into place. The landwalker patrol had returned quicker than he had anticipated. As Drayven listened, the coarse voices of the landwalkers became louder and louder.

Drayven could make out 3 distinct voices from the grunts and hissing, two lower voices and one more high pitched. A three lizard patrol. It was time to take action.

Drayven scanned the dwelling and his eyes locked on a thin scimitar shaped gutting knife, he crept the best he could and quietly retrieved the knife from a metal countertop. He admired the craftsmanship of the blade a quick second. The blade itself was forged to represent the webbed fin of a lake creature, with periodic thin bonelike structures spanning down towards the handle, seemingly holding together the tight weblike muscle of a fin. The handle was polished pearled chitin, with a slight aqua glint, which was given off by the Rivilius stones that decorated it. The knife itself is probably an heirloom passed down for generations, but today that tradition had ended.

Drayven grasped the knife and felt the warmth of the Rivilius crystals in the blade. Though possibly thousands of years old, the tiny crystals hummed with raw power. Fortunately for Drayven, handling the knife felt like second nature. In a past life he had been an honor guard to the Royal Council. Hundreds of years ago he had been a fierce warrior, but after the civil war, referred to by the Watersleepers as The Drought, he had sworn off violence and moved to the herbing coast.

The amphibious alien crept toward the firelit entrance of the dwelling and risked a look outside, slowly angling himself towards the village center. The unmistakable silhouettes of three landwalkers flickered in the firelight, their ghostly jagged skin contrasting against the dark night. The largest of the three, most likely the leader, wore armor made of the reddish minerals of the World's Mouth. Bulky, unpolished and reflective of the landwalkers culture. A rocky helmet covered most of his scaly face, except for the unmistakable glare of his glowing emerald eyes. As he spoke, a razor sharp smile came across his snouted face and he turned his gaze to the bodies at the bonfire. He let off a few rounds from his blaster with a hissing laugh, several bolts striking still smoking bodies. His long barreled blaster was powered by an exposed Rivilus crystal in the receiver. This landwalker had obviously bought his way to his position, the crystal powered blaster signaling an elite status within the landwalker culture.

The two lesser landwalker drones were clad in black tanned leather military uniforms and at the sound of the blaster fire, drew their blaster pistols in alarm. They turned towards the smoking bodies and let out twin laughs, joining their leader in mocking the dead. Their hisses and the crackling fires echoed through the courtyard and the stench of charred flesh filled the air. Now however, all three lizards had their backs turned, their muscular tails slightly waving in the night. Drayven’s rage boiled over.

Drayven took several steps out of the dwelling and into the firelight, his shadow flickered behind him. Using powerful legs built from hundreds of years of swimming, he crouched and leapt towards the drone to the far right, webbed blade in hand. The spongy highlands grass let out a squirt as it compressed, the sound causing the drone to turn her emerald leer towards the soaring watersleeper warrior. She didn’t stand a chance.

The finblade easily broke through serrated scaly skin and sunk deep into the landwalkers throat. She let out a gurgled hiss of despair and fear as her emerald eyes darkened. Drayven landed and released his grasp from the polished hilt of the neck bound knife, using one hand to maneuver the dying lizard’s body between him and the remaining two landwalkers as a shield. He easily disarmed the blaster pistol from the weaking clawed grip of his victim and raised the gun toward the second surprised drone, squeezing the trigger.

Two hums of energy released and flashes of red put two smoking holes in the drones chest, easily burning through the leather armor he wore. He collapsed before even thinking of raising his pistol in defense. Drayven adjusted his aim and began firing at the wide-eyed elite of the patrol who hissed in defiance and raised his Rivilius powered blaster at Drayven.

The armor-clad landwalker fired a green energy bolt towards Drayven, striking the body shield. Drayven felt the heat of the blast burn his side as the Rivilius bolt easily burned through the landwalkers body and continued its trajectory behind him.

Drayven responded with four more blaster pistol shots, the red energy burning with a sizzle into the defiant rocky armor of the lieutenant. The energy from the bolts caused the large landwalker to recoil several steps, disrupting his aim as his rifle let out a low twang, sending a green bolt humming into the highlands. Drayven continued to squeeze the trigger of the pistol and he heard the click of his last shot. The final red bolt soared into the night and hit its mark, the exposed Rivilius crystal in the landwalkers blaster rifle. The firelit village erupted into a magnificent display of green light and the landwalker roared in pain as the precious Rivilius crystal released its energy.

To Drayven’s surprise, the landwalker was not dead, nor even deterred. Though blackened and burnt, the landwalkers acidic eyes still glared with hate toward his amphibious opponent. The lieutenant let out a hiss and spat, his opulent blaster rifle now a twisted heap of metal on the ground. He reached for his belt clasp and pulled an object from its clip, a glowing Rivilius infused mace.

The landwalker roared and lunged, one arm high in the air, ready to bring the humming mace down on Drayven’s skull. In one fluent motion, Drayven tucked and rolled. He felt the warmth of the lake water infused grass on his back, and for a fraction of a second, he was at peace. In his roll, he ripped the finblade from the fallen drones throat and struck upwards as the landwalker’s swing came down.

The two warriors collided and crumbled to the soft ground. Drayven got to his feet, preparing to face his last moments alive, preparing to meet his ancestors in the Deep Blue. Several feet away, the lieutenant’s massive silhouette struggled to its feet, then began to sway, his taloned hands clawing at his face in fear. The flickering firelight illuminated the armored warrior.

Drayven’s glinting black eyes met the landwalkers, or the one that was left. Drayven’s upward strike skyward stab had hit its mark, plunging through the soft chin of the landwalker, the curved finblade resurfacing from the landwalkers body through its right eye. The opulent lieutenant dropped to his knees with a groan and continued his fall face down into the lush ground. His blackened blood now being absorbed and feeding the luxuriant living highlands of Rivilius. The glowing Rivilius crystal mace sat sunken in the muck, still glowing.

The victorious amphibious warrior let out a long sigh through his gills and checked himself for injuries. Other than a slight burn from the missed blaster shot, he was fine. He headed towards the landwalker corpses, retrieving a blaster pistol from the grips of the second drone. He left the finblade in the landwalkers face, as a warning to any other patrols that came to pillage this place. Drayven reached his webbed hands down and pulled the humming mace from the disturbed grass bed. The spoils of war, I guess.

He looked at the sky one more time and said a prayer to The Sky God. There must be a god who would send a sign to him, who acknowledged his pleas for help. Drayven’s gaze shot further up the coast as he heard the landwalkers machines of war begin an assault on a distant city, flashes of Rivilius green weapons causing a brilliant but devastating lights display that was only beautiful from afar. There was still so much more death and destruction to come.

Suddenly, an enormous horn blast sounded, one that rattled Drayven’s bones. He crouched and covered his ears while the horn blasts continued. From his crouched position, he slowly looked skyward.

There was a break in the ceiling of smoke and ash above him as it dissipated. Like a monstrous beast appearing from the void, the nose of a massive starship with the unmistakable markings of the Galactic Order broke through the darkness.

His prayers were heard.