Shadow Sun Progression: Shadow Sun Book Four

  Shadow Sun

  Progression

  Book Four of the

  Shadow Sun Series

  By

  Dave Willmarth

  Copyright © 2020 by Dave Willmarth

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  All characters and events depicted in this novel are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  The story so far…

  A race of ancient aliens has seized earth, using the power of the sun to transport the entire planet closer to the center of the galaxy, and making it a part of the Universal Collective of Planets.

  Earth now has two suns, one dark, and one light. The planet is ruled by a game-like System that has determined the human race is a contaminant that must be wiped from the planet. The survivors find they are now able to cast magic spells, control their attributes, and level up as they get stronger.

  The initial one-year Stabilization period is over, and aliens have begun to colonize earth. Allistor has earned the title of Planetary Prince on Earth, and after several hard-won battles with a goblin clan, become Emperor of a planet he has renamed Orion.

  He’s established his Princedom and its Capital City, both called Invictus, by claiming the lower half of Manhattan island in what used to be New York City. While he works to secure his new city, Allistor tries to recruit more humans to become citizens of Invictus under his protection. At the same time, he’s learning that not all non-humans are evil, or even bad.

  After a year of dating in the midst of the apocalypse, he’s finally asked Amanda to marry him and become his princess/empress. Preparations for the wedding have begun, bringing a whole new set of challenges in the form of interactions with the various alien factions that will want to attend.

  Allistor must find a way to help his fellow humans to survive, and thrive, before their planet is irrevocably overrun by colonists. At the same time, he must figure out how to navigate interplanetary and interspecies politics, without offending any factions powerful enough to wipe him and the human race completely from the face of Earth.

  Chapter 1

  Baldur moved with purpose through the mists in Odin’s hall, his progress pushing the mists before him, transmitting his movement and his mood ahead of him to his father’s throne.

  “You are troubled, my son.” The Allfather motioned with one tentacled arm for Baldur to approach and sit, another tentacle’s motion causing a chair to appear near his throne. Baldur took the offered seat, but did not speak, choosing to consider his words carefully. Odin gave him a place to begin. “You wish to tell me your brother and niece have interfered with the human planet.”

  Baldur’s agitation grew, the mists swirling about his head becoming more active. “I know it to be true, but I have insufficient hard evidence to put before you.”

  Odin chuckled, the sound emanating from deep within his rubbery chest and transmitting through the mist to fill the room. “In the myths of the human world, I am known as all-seeing. You and I know this is not true. Yet I, like you, do know that Loki and Hel have violated the sanctity of Stabilization. They cover their guilt well, with the deaths of those who might bear witness against them, with subterfuge, intimidation, and bribery. Loki breaks our laws out of contempt for me, and out of pride. He believes himself to be the master of deception. To be smarter than the rest of us. Hel, on the other hand, acts out of boredom, and an overarching desire to end her father’s mortal existence.”

  “And will you accommodate her desire? Will you punish Loki?”

  “Ah, my son. You ask the wrong question. Of course I will punish Loki. And his wayward daughter. Both have earned death sentences many times over. The proper question is when I will punish them.” Odin watched as Baldur considered his words. Baldur was the best of them. Honest and loyal, beloved by all. He shared Odin’s fondness of the humans, having joined him on visits to the planet every few millennia to observe their evolution. Both beings had been sickened by the System’s determination that the human race was a contaminant. Odin himself had wept over the loss of billions during Stabilization. But there were immutable laws that pre-dated even his ancient race. The creators of the System that nurtured his own people, as well as the thousands of younger races within the Collective, followed some arcane plan that no one but them fully understood. And the System punished those who dared interfere. All he had to do was call the details of their elusive machinations to the System’s attention, and challenge them to deny his charges. The System would know if they lied.

  Baldur finally spoke. “You delay because they serve some purpose of yours with their actions…” Two of his tentacles waved in front of him in a thoughtful manner. “The Prince. On that first day, I showed an interest in him. Their attempts to annoy me by destroying him have failed. They have instead made him stronger. And he in turn has strengthened those around him. He stands on the precipice of a path that could make him a force within the Collective.”

  Odin’s tentacles moved in an affirmative sign. “A force for good, I hope.”

  “But he hates us, father. He is driven by his vow to destroy us in retribution for taking his world and destroying his people.”

  “You speak true, son. Yet he is not the first to swear such an oath. And he is many years, many challenges away from being able to threaten us. Much like the others, I expect he will gain the wisdom in that time to know that we are not directly responsible for the genocide. We could not prevent the System from carrying out its imperatives once the determination had been made. And I hope that he will have the compassion to forgive us.”

  Baldur again took a long moment to reply. “And if he refuses to forgive, Loki and Hel would make excellent scapegoats. After all, it was Loki who initiated the relocation of Earth, and the subsequent induction into the Collective. But what if ending their lives does not satisfy?”

  Odin exhaled deeply, a wave of sorrow washing through the hall. “We failed them, my son. They should have had another thousand years or more before induction. It was our responsibility to protect them from Loki, Hel, and those who would take advantage. If they demand our lives in retribution, so be it. I tire of this physical existence, and would not mourn its loss.”

  *****

  Planetary Emperor/Prince Allistor sat in his smithy on the roof of the Invictus tower, staring into the furnace, but not really seeing it. The drink in his hand went unnoticed, as were the grunts of William, his ten year old squire, who was standing behind him and doing his best to crush Allistor’s noggin with a staff. Allistor had a lot on his mind, between his upcoming wedding, the development and expansion of his nation, taking care of his people, and the galactic political arena he found himself thrust into. Which is why he didn’t notice when his Barrier spell collapsed under William’s onslaught.

  His only warning was a sudden intake of breath, and a wicked little chuckle from William as he swung his staff with extra enthusiasm, aware that he was going to get a rare chance to actually hit his target.

  With a wry smile, Allistor re-cast the spell. The barrier popped into existence behind him a fraction of a second before William’s weapon struck. The young squire cursed loudly, the unexpected impact vibration of the staff stinging his hands.

  “Shit, that hurt! I almost had you that time.”

 
; “Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. And AoE spells.” Allistor turned to face the boy. “And don’t let any of the ladies hear you cuss like that.”

  William looked grumpy, shaking his hands to get rid of the sting. “I know. Just around us guys.” He blew on his hands, as if that would make them feel better. “Why does it hurt more when I hit the shield than when I hit you?”

  Allistor cast a small heal on the boy, raising one eyebrow as he did it, to remind William that he could have healed himself. The boy had learned the same basic skills every citizen of Invictus had been given. “It has to do with physics. First, my head is softer than the shield. So when you hit me, there’s a little bit of give. But also, you loosened your grip. That allows the vibration of the impact to sting your hands more.”

  He took hold of the stick and demonstrated a tight two-handed grip. He was about to instruct his squire to hold the staff like he would a baseball bat. Instead, his lips pressed together as he realized that William had only been eight or nine when their old world ended, and may never have had the chance to play baseball. Or many of the other games kids of Earth normally played.

  “With practice, you’ll learn to adjust your grip for the circumstance. In the meantime, you have to remember that you can heal yourself during combat.”

  William shook his head. “Lady Amanda said I shouldn’t heal little things like stinging hands. Says if I tough it out, it’ll raise my stats, and make me mentally tougher.”

  Allistor suppressed a grin. “Well, as my squire, the most important thing I can teach you is to never argue with Lady Amanda.” He patted William on the shoulder. “The second most important thing is to never stick around when she wants to test a new spell.”

  Williams eyes widened and he nodded his head solemnly. “Yeah. The other day she said I could earn a lollypop if I helped her test something. She said it would just sting a little…” The boy shook his head, remembering.

  Allistor winced, then chuckled. “Yep. That’s how she gets you. Next time, just run. Tell her I need you to do important squire stuff.” He held out a fist, which William bumped with a conspiratorial smile.

  Noticing that the metal he’d set in the furnace was getting overheated, he got to his feet. “That’s enough for today. You’ve put in a good workout. The rest of the day is yours. I think Sam and his crew might be clearing another building this afternoon, if you want to tag along.”

  “Yes!” William carefully set his staff against a wall. “My Stamina went up another point about an hour ago. And my Strength is at three already.” He waved at Allistor as he turned to head toward the elevator.

  “That’s great, buddy! But remember, the next few times you level up, I want you to put points into Intelligence and Will Power! It’ll be a few more years till you’re big enough to be a melee fighter. Until then, I want you to level up your casting skills!”

  William didn’t even slow down, just waved over his shoulder to acknowledge that he’d heard.

  Allistor grabbed his tongs and used them to pull the heated metal bar from the furnace. Not really in the mood to craft anymore, he simply set it on the anvil to cool. Taking his drink in hand again, he moved over to the lounge area to sit and think.

  He’d finally summoned the courage to ask Amanda to marry him! It had been two days since she agreed to become his queen, and that was all any of his friends and family talked about since. All of Invictus seemed to be scurrying around making preparations for the wedding. He’d wanted it to be a small affair, but was quickly shouted down by every single person he knew. They unanimously agreed that the wedding of a Planetary Prince, who was also a Planetary Emperor, was an affair of state, and had to be celebrated as such!

  At the same time, Gralen and Harmon had been working to colonize his new planet, Orion, which he’d taken from the goblins. Gralen’s initial estimate of twenty thousand beastkin wishing to become citizens of Invictus had turned out to be conservative. The number was closer to thirty thousand. Allistor and his advisors were scrambling to arrange housing for all of them as quickly as possible. In addition to filling the three main Strongholds on the planet’s surface, and Harmon housing nearly three thousand of the beastkin on his orbital trade station, there was a small army of orcanin and beastkin technicians and engineers working to bring the two dilapidated habitats that orbited Orion back online. Between them, they could house another twelve thousand, as well as create more jobs for the immigrants. And as Allistor had hoped, nearly five thousand of the beastkin, including most of the original mercenary crew and their families, were willing to live among the humans on Earth.

  Allistor had put the word out that he wanted a few human volunteers to join the beastkin on Orion, in the interest of further improving human/alien relations. After the funeral for those who’d died taking the new planet, he’d made a short speech asking his people to accept the beastkin, orcanin, elves, dwarves, and other races that were not responsible for Earth’s apocalypse. Though some were less accepting than others, there had been no violent objections. And with the ability to travel between the planets using the teleport system, the fifty or so humans that volunteered would never be more than a few minutes from home.

  “Pardon the interruption, Sire. Analyst L’olwyn has requested a word.” Nigel’s voice rang out from thin air. “Analyst Selby has made a similar request as well.”

  “Send them on up, Nigel. Thank you.”

  Allistor got to his feet and walked behind the rooftop bar to refresh his drink while he waited for two of his four alien analysts to arrive. L’olwyn was an unhoused elf with noble blood and a reserved bearing, while Selby was a feisty little gnome who had, in the short time she’d been on Earth, developed a bit of a crush on Logan.

  The elevator door opened and the two analysts stepped out. As they approached across the rooftop, Allistor called out. “Can I fix either of you a drink? Got some really good Jamaican rum here.” He held up his glass and shook it, making the ice clink.

  Selby began to nod her head yes, opening her mouth to accept, but stopping when she heard L’olwyn reply. “Thank you, sire, but I must decline. It is improper to imbibe while performing one’s duties.”

  Selby sadly changed her nod to a shake. “No thank you, Sire.”

  Allistor coughed, covering his mouth to suppress a grin as he walked around from behind the bar. Taking a seat in one of the lounge chairs, he motioned for the others to sit as well. “Listen guys, I don’t want to have to keep saying this. When it’s just us chickens, I want you to call me Allistor. And it’s okay to let your hair down a bit and share a drink with me when I offer. They tell me I’m the boss around here, so I think I get to decide what’s proper, or not, yes?”

  “Chickens, Si… Allistor?” L’olwyn frowned at him while Selby hopped back out of her chair and headed for the bar.

  “It’s a silly Earth expression. Don’t even remember what it’s from. Forget it. Just… if we’re not in a formal setting, let’s lay off the titles, alright?”

  “Of course, Allistor. I will endeavor to… how did Lady Meg put it? Loosen my jockeys?”

  Allistor snorted, nearly spitting out the sip of rum he’d just taken. “Yes, thank you L’olwyn.” He wiped his mouth just to make sure none had escaped and was running down his chin. “Now, what did you wish to speak to me about?”

  “I have been in contact with the Or’Dralon elves of Vermont. Specifically, Commander Enalion, with whom you’ve had some previous discussion?”

  “Ha! You mean when I talked him out of blasting us into oblivion on our very first day in space?”

  “Indeed. You also extended an invitation for him to join you for a meal.”

  “Indeed I did!” Allistor was having a hard time resisting a few pokes at the tightly wound elf. If Nigel could loosen up and even make jokes, Allistor had hopes that L’olwyn would do the same. Eventually.

  “Yes, well, the commander has heard of your upcoming nuptials, and reached out to me this morning to enquir
e as to why he had not received an invitation.”

  Allistor’s amusement fell away, and a cold sense of dread began to creep up his spine. The Or’Dralon faction was capable of swatting him, his people, and all of Earth if he offended them a second time. L’olwyn’s own faction had been wiped out in a similar way.

  “Shit. It never even occurred to me that they’d want to attend.” Allistor set his drink down and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and running both hands through his hair. Selby emerged from behind the bar with a glass of rum in hand, hopping back up into a human-sized chair without spilling a drop.

  “Oh, the Commander is quite interested in attending, Allistor. He seems especially intent on introducing you to his daughter.”

  Allistor’s head jerked up, and his eyes focused on L’olwyn in time to catch what he suspected was a suppressed smile. Maybe the elf had a sense of humor after all, if a little twisted.

  “Ohhh, no. No daughters. Harmon told me if I married Amanda, I could hold off any attempted arranged marriages for like a year!” His eyes got wide and he slapped a hand over his mouth as he realized what he’d just said. After a few seconds, he lowered it enough to whisper, “Not that that’s the reason I’m marrying her. Let’s just keep that whole topic between us, shall we?”

  Selby raised her glass and gave him a knowing wink as L’olwyn replied, “Of course.”

  His gut beginning to roil and his forehead beading with sweat, Allistor asked, “So what did you tell Commander Enalion?”

  “Fortunately, I was able to tell him the truth. That he would of course be welcome to attend. And that Lady Amanda had yet to choose the method and style of formal invitations. I assured him that as soon as her selection was complete, Or’dralon would receive said invitation along with everyone else.”

  Finding himself both relieved and further alarmed by the elf’s response, Allistor asked, “Everyone else?”