Winter going into spring was always a beautiful time in the northern territories. Forests of mountains, trees growing from rocky outcrops and half-melted beds of snow, the footprints of animals as they venture forth from their months-long hibernations. The sky was clear, the air crisp, and one young boy found himself looking up at it through a clearing in a pine grove. Babbling through the grove was a creek, gently falling against a path of rocks as it made its way down the mountain. The boy – roughly 10 years old, and wearing thread-bare rags that had once been proper winter clothing – picked up a wet stick as he approached the creek. Snow crunched under his boots as he lifted the stick high, admiring his prize, and with a few calculated smacks of the stick against the riverbed, delighted in the breaking of frosted crystal from the rocks. For a moment, he watched the loosened ice float away…until he realized he wasn’t the only one there.


    Blue eyes watched in perfect stillness; there was a fox not too far away, its own black eyes looking straight back at him. The boy carefully put the stick down, trying not to make a sound. The sight of the fox was unusual; this close to a community meant the creek was a frequent destination for the local human population, and no fox in their right mind had any interest in that. Still, this one seemed indifferent to the child, and turned away to lap at the water for a little while longer. The boy made it three paces closer before the fox’s ears suddenly went up, and it looked around in an unbidden panic.


    Then the cause for alarm became evident; three lightning-quick streaks of light darted across the sky. The fox was gone before the boy looked for it again, but the sound of nearby destruction left him with no recourse, and he started running up the footpath back the way he’d come. His hood fell away from the jostling, revealing short blonde hair, but he had no time to stop and put it back. Ears quickly started to get a pink tint from the cold as he ran, “Mom!? Mom!” He called out; a nearby explosive blast sent him sprawling for cover, hands over his head. Pebbles and dirt rained on him, but the boy got up again and carried on, flitting through the trees just off the path instead.


    As he arrived at the clearing of a small village – more like a campsite that had been used for years, with a few tents interspersed between some longer-lived log cabins – he saw what carnage had already been wrought. Two of the cabins were already destroyed and smoldering, people were running for their lives; death was coming from the sky.


    “Gabe!?” A woman’s voice called-out, and the boy lifted his head, “Gabriel, what are you doing out in the open!?”


    “I heard the attack from the creek! What’s going on?”


    The woman had hair as golden as his own, and she carefully weaved through ruined tents and campfires to get to where her son was hiding behind a wood-pile. She hugged him tightly as she arrived, “It must be those newcomers… They drew the Fafnir straight to us…! We have to get away before they find us, too!”


    With renewed focus, they turned, but the pair couldn’t even begin their retreat into the woods; they were stopped in their tracks by yet another explosion. The woman blocked as much as she could from her son, and took a graze to the forehead, blood trickling down across her brow. She hissed a breath, and touched her fingers to it, but there was no time to worry or complain about the sting; whatever was going on, they were being herded back into the open. But even that was cut-off in quick succession, as one of those ‘so-called’ Fafnir descended directly into the middle of the encampment. It bore the physique of a large man, with gilded, aerodynamic armor covering every inch of him; from his back were two arm-like projections, with solid-light panels that made it look like he had massive wings. The crowning difference between him and the following two Fafnir that descended nearby, was the elaborate ornamentation above and behind him, extending out from the wing-panels.


    “…That’s the Captain…!” The woman whispered, holding her son’s head close in front of herself as she tried to pull him closer to a make-shift shelter; a small wooden shed with an open door, “Why is the Captain on this mission!? He’s never come out for these culls before…”


    “We didn’t do anything…” Gabriel complained fearfully, “I don’t understand…”


    “I don’t, either…” She answered, and pulled the boy into the ground, hoping to avoid being seen.


    The Fafnir Captain scanned the area, then indicated to his subordinates to take a direction each. If they were speaking to one another, it was on a closed communication system, and could not be heard outside their helmets. The Captain stepped forward and went up the main steps of the community’s largest cabin; what happened behind those doors could only be imagined. The two other Fafnir – lacking the elaborate sigils above their own wings, but each sporting their own unique colors and wing-styles to differentiate each other at a glance – stalked the rest of the campsite. Each hidden survivor that was found was butchered on sight; the Fafnir possessed weaponry embedded in the armor of their forearms, shooting a single pulse of raw energy that killed instantly.


    Gabriel clenched his eyes shut, but he could feel a subtle tingle in them beginning, “Mom…mom, it’s coming out…”


    “Shh!” She pushed the boy’s head down into the dead leaves and snow, “You have to pretend to be dead already…maybe they’ll leave us be…!”


    He could feel his heart pounding in his chest; the tingle in his eyes was getting worse. He pulled his hands up under his face to press his fingers against his eyelids, like that could do anything at all to offer relief. The crunch of footsteps was getting closer; two more people were slaughtered nearby…and then they stopped.


    The Fafnir soldier had found them.


    Gabriel felt his breath catch in his throat, and his body seemed paralyzed. His mother wouldn’t even chance to breathe while the Fafnir was standing there. The wait seemed to go on forever – why was that Knight just standing there? The sudden jerking of his mother’s body wasn’t normal…nor was the unusual subtle blasting-sound that preceded it. The Fafnir Knight still hadn’t moved; it’s as if it was waiting for something. Gabriel felt the warmth of liquid drip down against the back of his head, and his mother’s frame seemed to relax. She exhaled a rattled, wet breath, then went still, and slumped slightly further off Gabriel’s left side, until she fell completely still. Gabriel didn’t know what else to do; his mother was dead beside him, and his ears were ringing.


    Armored feet shifted slightly as the Fafnir took aim a second time…then stopped and recoiled slightly. Unheard by the catatonic child, the Knight spoke to his team, “Captain, you’re going to want to see this…”


    The tingling had ceased; blue eyes were replaced with tendrils of golden light. Gabriel reached a trembling hand towards his mother’s gaping, wide, lifeless eyes. It was only then that he saw the gore that had become the back of her head and neck; the miasma from his eyes flared even more in his duress. Tears fell down his cheeks though, and he bent down over the body, heedless of the blood that pooled underneath. He turned his left ear towards the woman’s face, “Breathe…please…breathe…” He begged quietly, hopeless as it was. Crimson stained that whole side of his face, and hair dragged through, leaving little trails of red on the woman’s skin. Gabriel jerked upward again though when he heard – and felt – the sudden thud of the Fafnir Captain landing nearby.


    “What is this?” The man asked, unheard by the stunned child.


    “Sir…he’s got the Limitless eyes. But he’s… He couldn’t be more than 10 years old.” The first soldier explained, gesturing at the boy, “This is unheard of. We have to call Lord Rylen.”


    There was a moment of hesitation, but then the Captain seemed to agree; the solid-light wings behind him abruptly shut off, dissolving into a shimmer of dust, and every glowing vein of light running through his armor faded. The man pulled his helmet off – pale blonde hair and light green eyes were revealed to those terrified sights – and he held his hand up to his left ear, “Lord Rylen, this is Captain Rydell…we have a situation. Yessir. I’ve made my nanotech available for you.”


    The sound of crystalline, shifting sands could be heard, as the ‘nanotech’ quickly reassembled; what manifested from it was the image of a whole new man; garbed in white and trimmed with grey, skin a dark lavender color, and pointed ears beside. Piercing orange eyes looked on with interest before a cascade of molten-silver hair, although the figure was turned side-faced to the boy, as though the interior of the camp was the most likely place of interest, “What am I looking at, Captain?”Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    “Sir!” The Fafnir saluted with his free hand, then nudged his head to the figure’s other side, “This boy. He can’t have more than a decade under him but he already has the affliction.”


    Rylen – as he was known – turned with a wide gaze, and beheld the image of the boy with those characteristic tendrils of golden-white light flaring from his eyes. Gabriel recoiled at the sight of that peculiar dark elf, more so when the man knelt down to one knee, and stared at him like a lab specimen, “Fascinating. It’s been some 370 years since I saw this happen.”


    “What should we do with him, sir?”


    Rylen stood back up again, pondering for a moment; there was another sound of violence in the distance, and the second Fafnir gestured over a crest of trees. Rylen just nodded, then looked to the Captain, “Carry on the mission as you are. I’m going to call Xanarken here.”


    “Sir!” He answered, and replaced his helmet, then took off into the air again without the grand visual spectacle of his solid-light wings.


    “Xanarken, would you mind swapping-out with me to handle something?” Rylen said, seemingly to himself as he took a step back, “Yes, I’ve just been notified that the target has been located, so I have to go deal with that. Just replace my mantle with yours and I’ll catch up with you later. …Oh, you’ll know exactly what it is when you see it.”


    Gabriel listened in terrorized confusion, but just as Rylen’s voice went silent, and those orange eyes descended on him again, they were suddenly replaced by a whole new man. Purple skin was replaced by a normal fleshy white tone, and molten silver hair shortened to a neat, dark-purple look. A clean face was replaced with a black goatee, and light-colored clothes were changed to dark greys and blacks. It was Xanarken who now stood in those footprints, and he looked down with violet irises to the sad sight before him.


    Xanarken looked away and around the scene he found himself in; he could see the image of that second Fafnir Knight disappearing beyond the tree-line, leaving nothing but carnage behind. Brows furrowed, “Damn… Rylen’s really gotten into it eyeballs-deep this time.” He turned back to the child though, and bent down to get onto his knees in an effort to look less threatening. He reached his hand out, “I’m so sorry for what happened here. I…know my brother gets a bit zealous when it comes to this area, but he went too far here today.” He started, though Gabriel wouldn’t reciprocate, “You don’t have to keep your Limitless on, son. I’m not going to hurt you.”


    “…Th-they…killed my m-mom…” The boy finally spoke, his voice scratchy from fear and despair, miasma flickering like candle-flame from those terrified eyes, “I d-don’t…know what we did wrong… Why did…they come…? Why did they k-kill my mom!?”


    “There was someone here…” Xanarken started, keeping his gentle hand extended, “I’m sorry to say, but his Limitless ability made it possible for him to assume another person’s image. He was a very bad man, and hurt a lot of people out in Kitez and Sargon. It was just…bad luck that we tracked him here, to where you live. The only way we could be sure to find him was to…do this…”


    “My m-mom never…did anything wrong… She d-didn’t even…have the affliction h-herself…”


    “Most people don’t. It’s a very rare gift; one that some people use to do evil things. Do you know what you can do, son?”


    Gabriel stared quietly for a moment, but that soft-spoken figure had a strange calming effect on him. The light in his eyes faded back to normal; his left eye, however, was now red, “I…I can…cut through anything…”


    “That’s really amazing. …Why don’t you come up from there? It’s dangerous to stay here.” Xanarken suggested, and inched closer, offering his hand nearer, “I can protect you.”


    “I can’t…leave my mom…”


    “I know it’s hard. But we can’t leave you here by yourself. I’d just…rather you come on your own.” The man said, and extended his fingers a bit more, “Please…”


    Gabriel looked at those fingers, then to his mother’s body, and to the fingers again. Reluctantly, and with a trembling arm, he reached, and touched his palm around those fingertips; they were cold, and felt like plastic, “…You…don’t feel right…”


    “I’m an Eidolon, son. Do you know what an Eidolon is?” Xanarken pressed is thumb to those fingers reassuringly, and slowly stood back up again, but stayed bent over his knees so he wouldn’t be too intimidating at his full height.


    “N-no…”


    “An Eidolon is someone who creates their body from the nanotech that floats in the air like dust.” He gestured around the area, though mostly towards the woods, “Not that there’s any nanotech here, mind you… I believe the good Captain sacrificed his own to give myself and Lord Rylen a supply to manifest from. Rylen and I are leaders in the Luminary Council. There’s four of us. We’ve been helping people live here for a very long time.”


    “The…L-Luminary…Council…? It’s…supposed to be evil…!” Gabriel sucked in a scared breath and pulled his hand back, “That other one i-is…definitely evil…!”


    “Rylen Vor’antiss is many things, but he’s not evil. He’s known as the Eidolon of the First and Sixth Wings of the Council. And I’m Xanarken Tellan, Eidolon of the Fourth Wing. What’s your name, son?”


    The boy shied slightly, and reached up to rub his eyes with bloodied hands, “I’m…G-Gabriel…Lugios…”


    “Hello, Gabriel Lugios. I’d like to take you somewhere safe. Will you come with me?”


    Bicolored eyes blinked in sadness, and Gabriel looked one more time to the body beside him, “What about…my mom…? We’re just…leaving her here?”


    “You’re going to be making a lot of new friends in a big hurry, Gabriel. We’ll make sure that your mom is treated with dignity, and I’ll make sure you can say goodbye…but we should go. I’m going to call for a ship to come here to collect you, and I’ll wait with you until it arrives, okay? You’re not going to have to live like this anymore.”


    Hesitantly, but with a bit more coaxing, Gabriel reached again to take that hand, and Xanarken smiled.


    “Easy does it,” The Eidolon reassured, then finally stood up fully, and looked around again. Thin lines of light danced across his eyes as he envisioned an interface before him, and with a few selections in the HUD’s menus, he connected to a nearby SkyFortress, “This is Xanarken; I need a retrieval on my location. No, the mission is still ongoing, this is separate. I have a boy and an adult woman’s body to bring back to the Aegis. …Yes, I will be waiting here.” He turned to the child clinging to his fingers, “Okay, now we just stay here.”


    -22 Years Later-


    “You honestly cannot be serious,” Gabriel complained, sitting in the pilot’s seat of a small skiff. Hair had been allowed to grow long, but that red tint to its tips never faded, nor did the heterochromia. His gaze looked on impatiently at the image of his Eidolon on-screen, “How in the actual, literal Hell did Captain Tarrock ‘I can’t stand that guy’ Gallifey get pulled into this?”


    Xanarken took a deep breath, fingertips together, and he tilted his hands towards the screen as he finally spoke, “I know you and him don’t get along, but apparently the Empress called an Inquisition on her kid, and since you were dealing with him before already, it’s only practical that you continue to do so.”


    “But it’s an Inquisition. Why don’t you just ask Rylen to deal with it? It’s First Wing stuff. This is out of our jurisdiction anyway.”


    “I’ve already tried that. Rylen’s busy with something and told me to deal with it…so that’s why you’re dealing with it.”


    Gabriel smacked his head back against the head-rest, “What a drag… You can’t just tell them to let the kid go?”


    A woman’s voice chimed in from the side, “Sir, when an Inquisition is happening, the whole SkyFortress goes on lockdown. Lord Xanarken can’t reach them, nor form a mantle on-board, until the lockdown is lifted.”


    “And thus, why you’re going yourself,” Xanarken added, only to vanish from the screen entirely, and reform his mantle aboard the skiff ‘in-person,’ “It’ll be good experience for you and Dame Ren.”


    Feeling the weight of an elbow coming to rest above his head, Gabriel looked up, and spied the Eidolon looking back down on him from behind the seat. Eyes narrowed in annoyance, “Fine. But just so it’s on the record, everyone here knows Captain Gallifey is one of my biggest haters, and if shit hits the ceiling, it’ll be because of him.”


    “He doesn’t hate you, Gabe. He just…”


    “Loathes and detests the fact that I was born in - and taken from - the Exclusion Zone, and views me as nothing but a villain waiting for an opportunity?”


    Xanarken shrugged helplessly and smiled, “Some people just have wrong opinions and you can’t do much about it.”


    Listening but anxious, Ren busied herself with locating the aforementioned Captain’s SkyFortress. From experience, she already knew it was the Bulwark, so there was no need for guesswork.


    Gabriel crossed his arms, “Guess we’ll just have to deal with the punches as they come. If there’s no way to get hold of the ship ahead of time, then it’s going to be a surprise for everyone.”


    “Make sure you take Ren.”


    “She’s physically already present on my skiff.”


    “I mean on the mission, not just to the mission.” Xanarken sarcastically clarified, “She’s skilled in ways that you may find particularly helpful.”


    “Mhm.” Gabriel mumbled, and began activating the ship’s piloting interface.


    The Eidolon cast his eyes towards the largely-quiet cadet, “He still hasn’t read your file, has he?”


    Ren made a face and shook her head with an inhale, “Sorry, sir…I don’t think so.”


    Xanarken turned and abruptly knocked on the ‘mediator’s’ head, “Read her file.”


    “Let me get started on this mission, dad!” The blonde protested, flailing his hands up as the Eidolon’s mantle dissolved all around him. He sputtered and doubled-down, “I hate it when he gets on me like that.”


    “You’re being particularly cranky today, sir.” Ren noted carefully, “You okay?”


    “…I’m fine. Let’s just get this over-with. I’m sure the Princeling is causing those people a whole bunch of grief as it is.”