Castro Rebel Moon Part One - A Child Of Fire: The Official Novelization

1. Auflage 2023
ISBN: 978-1-80336-732-3
Verlag: Titan Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 336 Seiten

When a peaceful settlement on a moon in the furthest reaches of the universe finds itself threatened by the armies of the tyrannical Regent Balisarius, a mysterious stranger named Kora becomes their best hope for survival. From Zack Snyder, the filmmaker behind 300, Man of Steel, and Army of the Dead, comes REBEL MOON, an epic science-fantasy event decades in the making. When a peaceful settlement on a moon in the furthest reaches of the universe finds itself threatened by the armies of the tyrannical Regent Balisarius, Kora (Sofia Boutella), a mysterious stranger living among the villagers, becomes their best hope for survival. Tasked with finding trained fighters who will unite with her in making an impossible stand against the Motherworld, Kora assembles a small band of warriors-outsiders, insurgents, peasants and orphans of war from different worlds who share a common need for redemption and revenge. As the shadow of an entire Realm bears down on the unlikeliest of moons, a new army of heroes is formed. Novelized by V. Castro, two-time Bram Stoker Award-nominated author. Experience Rebel Moon on the page in this pulse-pounding novelization.

V. Castro is a Mexican American writer from San Antonio, Texas now residing in the UK. As a full-time mother she dedicates her time to her family and writing Latinx narratives in horror, speculative fiction, and science fiction. Her most recent releases include The Queen of the Cicadas from Flame Tree Press and Goddess of Filth from Creature Publishing. Connect with Violet via Instagram and Twitter @vlatinalondon or www.vcastrostories.com

Autoren/Hrsg.

Castro, V.

Leseproben

1

Rebellion is not for the impulsive or fool-hardy. It is for the truth seekers, the restless, the real third-eye seers who believe the howls of the soul create miracles. Rebels manifest change. Now tell me, are you a rebel?

— King Heron from Letters to My Children

THE UNIVERSE IS AN EVER-UNFURLING TONGUE OF A GIANT, SALIVATING BEAST seeking prey. Its black and smoky fur cloaks mysteries incomprehensible to the human mind or eye, but not to The King’s Gaze. Nothing escaped its coveting, cold, watchful glare. It moved quietly in low orbit amongst the dozen moons surrounding its destination.

Admiral Atticus Noble walked along the corridors of the grand citadel with priests and two of his Krypteian guards. He had an unannounced appointment with King Heron. Noble smirked at the title; “kings” on the outer worlds were mere administrators. King Heron stood in front of him with three of his advisors and guards.

“What a beautiful and prosperous city,” Noble said as he gave King Heron a smile. Heron didn’t match this gesture. He knew exactly why the admiral had landed in his dropship in the center of the main square. The Realm always made their presence known.

“Thank you. I know you didn’t come all this way to give me compliments.”

“No. I did not, sadly. It is actually a matter of grave importance. I have the responsibility of finding Devra and Darrian Bloodaxe from Shasu. It pained me to know they had been given sanctuary here. Now, I kindly ask you: hand them over. When you do so, I will leave as if I never set foot here in the first place.”

King Heron held his ground. “I cannot. They are my guests. Your business with them is not mine.”

Noble walked closer and his entourage of priests and Krypteian Guard followed. Heron didn’t allow his fear to show. He had given his word to the Bloodaxes. That was final. Noble looked to the vaulted ceiling of the citadel and the stained glass filtering the sunlight. He clapped his leather-gloved hands together. He chuckled to himself with a thought only he could see and hear. “I will ask you one more time. Hand over the Bloodaxe rebels.”

Heron didn’t have to think about his answer. “Again, I respectfully decline.”

Noble looked Heron in his eyes. In his cold, dark stare that showed he possessed no soul, the real Noble emerged. “Very well. That is your choice.”

“It is.”

Noble nodded. “Until we meet again.” He turned on his heels and walked out of the citadel back to his dropship.

King Heron’s general leaned into his ear. “What are your wishes with this turn of events?”

“Tell the Bloodaxes to prepare themselves. They must be ready to flee.”

The general gave him a short nod and left. Heron stood alone and wondered if he would ever meet Noble again. He hoped not.

*   *   *

The hangar on one of the sides of The King’s Gaze opened for a single dropship to emerge and land on the planet below. Atticus Noble stood in silence as he watched the scenes from the city of Toa on a monitor. The flames were the same bright color as the sand. It would burn so ferociously that no amount of its vast jade waters could quell the fires. Cleansing heat. Everything bends to flame. All that history, hundreds of thousands of years of memory, becoming ash in a matter of hours. No one would ever see the magnificence of the stone city as it was originally created. Noble felt nothing for the loss or those who lay dead. Each corpse looked exactly like the next.

There is hurt, then there is pain and agony, followed by utter despair. Finally, we are met with waking death. That is where peace is found, because nothing exists in the sphere of annihilation. There is no fight left. Noble knew this because he could not be more dead inside, and that gave him a sense of peace and direction.

He glanced back to the six priests mumbling prayers under their breath, behind their masks with red streaks below the eyes and old kingdom calligraphy across the mouth. Their decadent thick red robes and wide-brimmed hats embroidered in gold and white always emitted the scent of incense and smoke, as if the folds captured the aroma to remind everyone that the old religion demanded piety at all times. Skulls topped with gold spikes sat on each shoulder. Their presence was a representation of the sacred and the profane in the universe. He preferred his uniform and weapons to robes. The five-thousand-strong army awaiting his arrival would respond to metal before prayer. They saw more of death than God. Death had to be their sovereign.

Noble landed in the main plaza, reduced to rubble as he had instructed. When the dropship doors opened, the scent of burning wood, paper, and flesh hit his nostrils. It was a familiar scent. He led the way down the metal ramp with the priests trailing behind him like a blood-sodden cape. Before him stood his closest advisor, Cassius, who saluted him upon his approach but ignored the priests behind him. Also in Noble’s entourage were two Krypteian guards, Felix and Balbus.

Noble’s eyes scanned the oblivion that lay before him. Numerous bonfires leapt into the sky with books being cast inside as fuel. Their useless words finding a fitting end. Battered and bruised citizens kneeled in subservience, their magnificent sculptures and buildings that once rose toward the heavens now demolished to a state of humble ruin. Toa priestesses had their clothes torn off their bodies. They shivered in horrific anticipation as they watched their fellow priestesses being branded with a glowing red iron.

Noble continued toward Cassius until they stood face to face. “I see it is all going to plan here. Real obedience starts in the ashes. Well done. Where is the administrator of this world? Cassius, I would like a word with him.” said Noble with his unshakable confidence. His sharp and hollow features resembled a mere mask of skin over bone and animated evil. His presence demanded to be acknowledged, like a predator with its lethal attributes on show. Fear is all you can feel when you see them up close. But running is futile because the predator’s nature is to hunt.

Cassius remained stoic, one of the reasons Noble respected him above others. Nothing seemed to shock him. Cassius was a man who would never fall prey to some existential crisis. He knew his static place in the Imperium and had made peace with that. Following orders to the letter came easy for him. “He’s near the citadel, sir. He still fights.”

Noble despised misplaced heroics. It was a waste of time and energy. People should always know when to give up. “Hmm. Where is this citadel?”

Cassius pointed across the vast courtyard above the soldier’s heads toward a crumbling tower burning brightly with dark smoke billowing high into the atmosphere. “Just there. As I said, not much longer before it all collapses.”

Noble’s eyes narrowed at the sight. “Good. And have we captured the siblings?”

Cassius’s jaw clenched yet remained steadfast. “Sir, the administrator has orchestrated their escape. They have created this web of helpers in the universe to keep them fighting and out of our grasp.”

Despite this not being what he wanted to hear, Noble appreciated Cassius wasn’t the sniveling type. He always gave news to him straight and spoke plainly. He didn’t hide from the stark truth.

“Another reason why we show no mercy here. How many got away?”

“We destroyed most of their ships and men. Devra Bloodaxe and her brother, in the chaos, were able to evade us with a handful of ships.”

“Everyone thinks they can escape until fate finds them cowering and pleading for their wretched lives. Find this administrator, Heron. Hopefully still alive. I want those Bloodaxe bastard siblings sooner rather than later.”

*   *   *

King Heron kept journals of the many trials and tribulations of his succession and his reign. He also wrote letters to his children for when they were older and needed advice about life. They would inherit this kingdom, but he also wanted them to inherit some of his wisdom. They would have to navigate through the politics of the Realm, which was not easy since the death of the king. In fact, he despised the Motherworld and what it stood for: greed, bloodshed, and coercion. That is why he extended help to the Bloodaxe cause.

He knew about Shasu, how the Motherworld made domestic issues worse when they meddled with violence. The alliance was almost untenable once Balisarius had taken over as Regent. Balisarius relished in his power, he had spread his cancer throughout the Realm, killing so many worlds and innumerable people with the disease of war. King Heron would do whatever he could to overthrow that tyrant.

Alone in his personal office in the citadel, Heron tucked away his letters and journals in a box made to withstand time and the elements. It fit in a small recess below his desk covered with an animal skin. Not even an hour after the Bloodaxes left, he felt inspired to write. Shouts and the sounds of vehicles made him look to the door as heavy footfalls ran past. As he walked out of his office, a shadow with a familiar shape passed the stained glass in the citadel, handcrafted a century before. Guards secured the citadel and ran to their posts. Those who worked there fled with terror in their eyes.

No one noticed him as he ran by. He was dressed in plain clothing that day, and all were more concerned with their own safety. He rushed to the main entrance, pushing past bodies and shouts. His eyes glazed over with darkness of the...