The Hardwynn Saga : Book One

The Tempest Wing's hull rattled as explosions slammed against its shields. The ancient ship was a Hardwynn family heirloom from before the shattering. It had been instrumental in the family's rise to prominence, a beacon of hope during the dark ages when humanity was at the brink of extinction and was the cornerstone of Hardwynn City. Now it was here, the final act of a long and brutal war, flying over the battle like an angel of death.

Stephen Hardwynn peered down through the open belly of his ship watching the battle wage below him. The vacuum pulled at his neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair and his perfectly pressed uniform. Source City, home of the tyrannic Source Cult burned and crumbled, he couldn't help the grin that creeped across his face. So many friends, family and brave warriors lost, but it wasn't in vain. Unable to bear a unified front, the vile Sourcers had been pushed back to their homeland. Now they only had one task left, destroy their heart, Destroy the Source and end this nightmare once and for all.

As the hulking vessel soared above, their target came into view. A massive monolithic building with thousands of wires and tube protruding from it like a vast root system spreading across the city. A voice chirped into the com in his ear bringing him back into the moment.

"Sir, we are approaching the drop zone in 30 seconds. Patching Asher through now."

"Took you long enough Dad, You're getting slow in your old age."

Stephen's view became obscured as a young man, surrounded by a bright orange aura, flew parallel to the opening in the belly of the tempest wing, his unruly brown hair and blue Hardwynn family uniform dancing in the turbulent winds. He was so proud of his son, a boy thrust into a vicious war. Sure he was likely the strongest person on the planet, able to harness the power of a star, but he wasn't invulnerable. He sighs and shakes his head.

"We have to take it easy on the old girl. She cant move like she used to… What is the situation down there?"

" The Source building is heavily fortified, and their defenses are keeping the ground troops at bay. I was able to take out some of the upper cannons and turrets. We should have a clear path into the vault."

Stephen nods in approval.

" Let's end this fucking war and get home to your Mother and Chase."

" See ya down there… I'll try to save some bad guys for you to punch."

The glow around Asher brightened as he saluted his father, he flew away with blinding speed, the wake of his flight rocking the massive ship.

"Jumping now, change altitude and prep for sub-orbital bombardment incase things go south."

"Copy that sir… see you on the other side."

Stephen dives out of the opening and aims his body towards the target. Below him bright blasts of light bloom off of the building leaving smoldering holes.

"Made a nice hole for you pops. See ya inside."

Stephen continues his free fall, occasionally adjusting his trajectory. After a minute of silence Asher comes through on the coms.

"I've made it to the vault room. Dad… there's something.. or some one in the Crystal. It's… it's in my head…. It's trapped, it needs help."

Stephen tries responding, tries to tell son to wait for him but he gets no response. He changes into a feet first position and claps his hands over his head as hard as he could. The force hurtled him like a meteor into the Source building, through the hole Asher had created. His landing shatters the floor beneath him, leaving a massive crater. He scanned the area, finding the path his son carved towards the vault. He bolted down hallways littered with fallen Sourcers, the walls scorched by Asher's blasts.

"Asher….. Asher… God damnit Asher come in!" He screamed as he continued his journey into the depths of the massive building.

A massive blast shook the building, the force almost knocked the immovable Stephen off of his feet. The lights go dark, replaced by a strobing red, Sirens blared as he turned a corner, before him the remnants of a giant metal door. Molten metal still dripped from the hole Asher had blasted into it ,Stephen crossed the threshold and into a nightmare.

The room was filled with thousands of tubes and wires all connecting to a containment unit in the center of the room. In the unit was the glowing purple shards of the Source, the once giant crystal that held a never ending source of power. On the other side of the vault was Asher on his knees, there was some sort of figure with sharp, jagged ,black appendages dug into his son's body. A toxic green energy flowing from Asher into the beings pulsating white veins, its form began to morph instantly taking Asher's shape.. his face.

Stephen screamed out, bursting toward his son like a rocket, the floor collapsing from the force of his movement.

The monstrosity turned its head toward Stephen… a viscous smile crept across its morphing face and its eyes began to glow the same color as Asher's powers. A wall of searing heat stopped Stephen inches away from the creature and his son, He struggled to push through, he was strong and nearly invincible but when faced with the power of a star there was little he could do. The world around him turned white , the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the perversion of his son's face smiling at him.

They said that a dome of light washed over Source city, cleansing anything it touched. The losses on both sides were massive, the city reduced to a crater of glass an debris. When the area was finally cool enough to search they found Stephen, naked ,covered in soot. His eyes had sustained permanent damage, blood red reminders of the nightmare he witnessed that night.

Asher became an overnight legend, the man who sacrificed his life to save the world from the Sourcers.

With Source city gone and the remaining Sourcers scattered the resistance had won.

The resistance returned to their respective cities and townships, what should have been a time of growth and connection turned into isolation and xenophobia. Source Cultists began infiltrating the cities performing terrorist attacks, Hardwynn city closed itself off from the world and the other cities followed suit laying way for warlords and bandits to gain hold of the lawless Harshlands.

Twenty years have passed since that fateful night and every day Stephen stares out his window over his city, waiting, waiting for the inevitable storm, waiting for his son to come home.