“So exactly how and when did it happen – during the 21st century or more accurately the technological revolution scientists and engineers made a breakthrough and discovered we weren’t alone in the universe. It’s not clear which country made the initial contact but what was clear was at first contact severance to the outside was blocked and thus the first war started, known now only as the dark war. It was a massacre, we didn’t stand a chance. The ‘aliens’ were superior in almost every way, they were a race of war and no means of communication seemed to quell there appetite for destruction. Our only ray of hope was that this was our land, we had the home ground advantage, we were suited to this environment and that is how we drew out the war. Generations later others came, the war became stagnant, who was foe and who was friend. And there in lied our salvation, the end of the dark war brought about a short time of unstable balance. Four different races became connected by an invisible thread, no one race could move against the other in fear of a hanging knife. Earth became the middle ground, Earthlings found there ways to mountains and underwater safe havens. The cities and skies became the property of the three, Furiants the first race, Seaenaris came second and lastly the Konta. The Furiants later simply known as Furice were our contenders in the dark war, the hatred between the two races was – well irreconcilable. The Seaerians and Konta arrived almost identically, each in their own war of sorts. Afterward a secondary war began, named throughout history simply as hopes war. It was later named that due to humanities ability to have hope in surviving in such a helpless situation. And so a peace has reigned since, but we all know that calm water now can easily become a raging storm in a moment’s notice. How long I wonder…?” Memoirs of General Tyga, Chapter Exodus – The End.

“General Tyga, that man was truly formidable.” I sit on an old wooden chair by a small candle, expelling just enough light for the faint words to be seen. The smell of old leather fills my nostrils, the old style parchment and black ink. “Captain, all the goods have been stowed. 17 cases of military grade assault rifles. 10 duffle bags of small firearms, a further 3 cases of rations and 50 cases of ammunitions…” Staring down at the journal I close it and clasp it shut, it is just small enough for it to fit into the inner pocket in my jacket pocket. Ignoring the brute of a man standing at attention I stand and take a cigarette from the outer pocket in my jacket and light it in the candles flame. I breathe in deeply taking a deep puff, “prepare to move out.” Leaving the small room with that simple sentence I enter into a now bare empty warehouse, “If you were alive today what would you say – General.” Exhaling a silver smoke cloud I make my way outside.

A gigantic ship hovers in the sky, styled like a sailing ship from the ancient era. It is made from alloys far beyond their time, sailing not through water but through air. The sails made from spider thread, empowered with djinn. The sky blue energy radiates with an antigravity aura allowing it to sail the clouds. Thrusters line the hull all the way to the two massive ion thrusters at the rear, a distinct heat shimmering from the outer nozzles. Rope as thick as 10 men falls from the ship’s bow to the ground, a black steel anchor reflects the dazzling sun high in the sky. “Odin, god of the sky,” another cloud of smoke flows from me. Walking outside the warehouse the thin oxygen makes me feel slightly light headed. This is, was General Tyga’s fortress of the end, at the summit of Mt Dragoon. Legend told, he chained a dragon inside the mountain, a weapon of utmost power capable of combating the Furice. “In the end – it was but a legend.” Sighing deeply I channel energy into my legs and with a low breath shoot into the sky and land directly on board the ship. “Make preparations for departure, we move now.” Marching into the captain’s quarters overlooking the deck I sit in the captains’ mantle throne chair and look over the archaic map. “5 hours to Paryha city, 13 hours sea voyage to the Oster coast and then a further 2 week convoy to Lint city,” looks like we will barely make it on time.

*knock knock*

“Captain, we are ready for your order.” The same brute of a man stands at attention. I walk out onto the raised platform just outside the raised cabin, “Then – let Odin fly.” This brute’s name is Finks, Second mate Finks the Tank. His signature red hair and tenacity in battle gave him the nickname the human tank. Some even mistake him for a human Furice. “Fire up the ionic wave thruster,” I speak into a small intercom just to the left of the captains’ door. “Aye aye Cap,” a simple reply responds. The Engineer Kites, a genius with machines and my number four on board. She grew up in the slums of the Seaers capital Liandrew Prime, where she made ends meet through scavenge and salvage. “Baines, take the wheel, set course for Paryha,” Helmsmen Baines the Dead, Master with long range navigation and my number seven. “You got it Boss,” a match hanging between his lips takes the vintage wheel in his hands. “And Victor, prepare a feast, we are heading home,” and lastly Victor Slaine a simple cook and my number twelve, “keke, anything for my captain.” And with that a loud cheer reverberates around the deck.