Karamen grinned at his companions and did a handstand, his red gauntlets scraping the ground. “Oh what a joyous day to walk on the earth again, on both hands and feet.” He was doing this just to irritate Tiluniel. Irritating her was one of the few pleasures he still allowed himself. Every person had to indulge themselves every now and then. It was a hard task indeed to strain Tiluniel’s nerves. A perilous quest with little reward. The joy of the hunt was what drove him.

“Karamen,” Tiluniel said sternly, her voice brooking no argument, “comport yourself to the dignity of an arbiter of the balance.” Sure enough, she did not disappoint. Her serious facade would be a joy to break. One day he would do it.

“Tiluniel, my dear friend, can the dignity of an arbiter be so easily quashed?

“Why don’t you just get on all fours and run like a beast if you’re so eager to plant all your limbs.”

“Why not indeed,” Karamen’s legs landed on the ground, back first above the ground, face gazing upwards. “Ah, look at the blue sky and the birds.” It was a pretty planet. If only there was more to do here. He’d have loved to meet the locals and leave them awestruck with his ‘magic.’ Perhaps they’d even call him a god. That was always fun.

“Get on your feet now,” Tiluniel shouted.

“Are you ordering me as my commander, Tiluniel, or asking as my friend.” It was a fine distinction.

“Both!”

“Very well arbiter,” Karamen sprang up and saluted with his fist raised forward. He could act disciplined with the best of them. He just chose not to. Discipline was important. It held the crew together after decades of being lost in space, but it was not for him. He preferred a more light approach to life.

“Have you finished playing your games, arbiters,” the gold armored elf in the center shouted out.

“It is time to bring out the mining pods.”

“Yes leader,” all the ten red armored elves shouted, nine of them glaring at Karamen.

“Hahaha, our star dancer has more authority in her tone of voice than you do, dear Tiluniel. Learn from her.” The leader was indeed impressive. She had held the crew together through all these years of darkness. She was both strong as well as wise, a good combination to have when in command of a ship.

“Get to work,” Tiluniel snorted.

“With a merry scamper, haha,” Karamen cartwheeled and somersaulted to the blade dancer transport ship and with a flourish conjured a holographic display before him. His finger moved through the holotext as he navigated complex commands before selecting the appropriate ones. Dozens of floating metal spheres detached themselves from the blade dancer and followed Karamen to the host of red armored elves. Each took control of three or four spheres and walked away looking for their special spots to mine valein ore.

“I shall go hither and you shall go tither,” Karamen said, pointing both times in the same direction.

“We shall move together if that is what you wish,” Tiluniel said. She was like the older sister he’d never had. Hither and tither it made no difference wither as long as they were together.

“I grow weary when I’m in my own company,” Karamen sighed softly.

“Now you know how others feel,” Tiluniel couldn’t resist saying. Ouch! Ever with the biting comebacks.

Karamen walked forward in a brief interlude of silence, looking at the ground before him. Aether fields filled his vision. “It is here,” he said, feeling a resonance with the ground below. It was like a soft liquid seeping into his skin. One of the mining pods buried itself in the spot he pointed to, a fine debris of sand and rock spraying forth in the air. The two elves continued onward.

“Another vein,” Tiluniel exclaimed, commanding her metal sphere to begin mining the ore.

All of a sudden, the sky turned dark. Lightning struck nearby and rain began to pour. Karamen and Tiluniel extended their aura shields until there was a thin blue layer that covered their armor. Karamen looked back to the camp at the realm mistress in her colorful dress. The realm mistress’ aura shield was so bright that it looked like a beacon of light. Indeed, the discrepancy of aura energy between she and them was severe.

“The realm mistress shines like a star, the others around her like planets in orbit,” Karamen said.

“Don’t let the leader hear you say that,” said Tiluniel. The realm mistress and the leader had their disagreements. The realm mistress was used to commanding people and the leader didn’t much like that habit of hers, especially when she was the one being commanded. They seemed to have come to some agreement of late, and things were a little more peaceful.

Karamen suddenly paused, and poked Tiluniel’s shoulder. “What is that?” Karamen pointed at the sky above, where a pair of red eyes stared down at them. The eyes held a look of eldritch horror. Was this one of the gods of the planet, worshiped by the natives? Had it taken offense at their entry? Had Karamen unwittingly stared at the monster and offended it when he was looking up at the sky on all fours. An unwitting offense had brought doom upon his comrades.

“Stop gawking and flee,” shouted Tiluniel, “back to the camp.”

Karamen and Tiluniel used the signature power of the arbiters of balance, phasing in and out of reality, moving through the aether, and rapidly made their way back to the camp. The empty mining pods that had followed them, deactivated and fell to the ground.

In camp, Karamen heard the golden leader shout orders in an unending stream.

“Cloud walkers, to the sky. Bring that monster down to the ground.”

The blue armored elves flew into the skies, their streamlined jet packs making a soft whistle as they rose. They opened fire with their starsticks, blasts of orange and red lighting up the skies. A monster crashed onto the earth, its thousands of legs scurrying as it made its way towards their camp.

“Dragon keepers, let loose,” ordered the leader.

The black armored elves canted their dragon cannons and fired. Images of dragons of all colors flew from the launchers, hitting their target with a flurry of light and explosions. Those dragon keepers may be imbeciles but they sure packed a punch.

“Phoenix masters, on my command raise your whips.” The monster, broke out of its suppression and moved forward, albeit slowly. “Now,” shouted the leader.

The green armored elves shot out tendrils of fire that burnt everything in their path. The monster, on the receiving end, stopped moving, and roared.

“Arbiters, with me,” shouted the leader.

Finally, it was Karamen’s time to shine. The arbiters to finish the job, as always. Perhaps he would strike the killing blow this time. It was always a competition between him and Tiluniel. As long as the leader wasn’t playing it was one of them who got the prize. He assembled his glaive within the time it took to blink and followed the leader towards the monster. The arbiters phased in and out of reality, dodging the projectiles and laser blasts of their own troop as they drew closer to the monster. Friendly fire was not a problem for the arbiters though it still irritated him. They could have been a little more careful with their aim.

“Look at those ugly legs,” shouted Karamen with disgust, “They must be cut off this instant.” He was the first to reach the monster, his glaive whistling through the air as it detached rope like legs from body. White blood splashed everywhere. Killing was disgusting work. Luckily, all the gore splattered on his aura shield, leaving his clothes and body clean. Wait, there was something on top the monster’s back and it was fast.

“Tiluniel, look over yonder,” Karamen suddenly stopped fighting and pointed. “Is that a miniature human I spy running on this ugly fiend’s back.”

“They’re called children,” Tiluniel said, as she struck her glaive deep into the monster’s skin. “It must be one of the natives. Why is it risking its life to help us?”

“Perhaps it grew bored. The gods know that the only interesting things one can do on this planet are cartwheels and handstands.” Children. It had been a long time since he last saw a child.

“Less talking, more stabbing,” said Tiluniel, but the human child had taken center stage in Karamen’s mind. He kept an eye on the child as he continued severing legs. The child was both brave and daring. He was abnormally fast and agile. Even a high elf wouldn’t have been able to run with such grace. It was truly a sight to behold.

Karamen saw the human child fall into the monster’s mouth and yelled, “We must save it.” He did not want to see the child die. He felt a peculiar connection with it.

Karamen phased in and out, passing through air, moving closer to the monster’s head. He stabbed and cut his way up. The leader was faster than him. She was a golden blur as she ascended the monster’s body. She was not running, realized Karamen, but flying. He rarely saw the leader fly on planets. She must really care about saving this human. Flying expended stupendous amounts of energy. The leader hauled the human out of the monster’s mouth and with the other, swung her sword. The blue aura on her sword grew to immense proportions, cleaving the monster’s head in two. White blood rained down on the arbiters’ heads.