6:23 AM

The 77th of Spring, 1551

*13 hours ago*

Damon awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs and the sound of children playing.  The middle child of the Ryker family was usually the last to leave bed. After an exaggerated stretch he hopped off the top ledge of the bunk bed he slept in every night. The wooden floor creaked. Almost everything in the old family estate was prone to creak. Damon looked to the bottom bunk and noted the absence of its occupant before proceeding to his dresser to change. Opening the drawers was always a hassle, they would get caught on nothing and needed to be yanked on several times to open. After removing some clothes, he closed each drawer by tapping them in with his foot. Damon packed the spare clothes into his bag and changed into his uniform; it was a black button up with the letter C on its right breast and some red slacks. The boy looked like your typical Duna; sharp features, glowing irises, paper white skin, and wavy jet black hair. 

After washing his face and brushing his teeth, he proceeded to the lower level creaking all the way down. The Ryker family estate was an almost ancient structure with beautiful stone walls and wooden floors and ceilings that needed to be replaced. It was a shadow of its former glory. As Damon exited the staircase into the living room, he was greeted with a typical sight. The two Diordan girls, Emily and Maria, were going at it again. The pale skin on their faces were dyed red as they writhed in a deadlock. They were gripping and churning at the other’s hands while grinding their foreheads together. Emily's magenta eyes clashed with Maria’s sky blue eyes. They pushed and pushed on each other, their feet in a constant slip-and-catch on the wooden floor. If there was going to be a second Century war, it would be started by these toddlers. Damon’s younger sister, Demi, sat cross legged on a couch cheering them on as the sound of dishes clattered in the dining room. 

“Come on Maria! You gonna lose just because she’s older?!” Yelled the girl. Her moss-green eyes were glinting with mischief and delight.

Their mother, Lila Diordan, called from the other room. Her voice was a booming screech that would make a grown man’s insides tighten. “If you two aren’t at the table by the time I’m done setting dishes, there’ll be hell to pay!”

Instantly, Emily and Maria Diordan released their holds and walked to the dining room business as usual. There were no traces of struggle other than the red that still blushed their faces. The immediate obedience of the wild hellspawn gave the Ryker kids a good laugh.

“Mornin”, said Damon with a smile.

“Good morning” said Demi, returning a smirk. The two of them followed after the Diordan girls. 

The Ryker’s dining room was a sight, it boasted a humongous old table that nearly spanned the entirety of the 30 foot room. Its large stained glass windows illuminated the area with color. The ceiling was the same height as the tallest level of the building making the room feel exceedingly spacious. Emily and Maria were already seated as their mother set the last of the dishes. 

The Matriarch and Patriarch of the Ryker household entered the room with the food.

Dreymond Ryker had the physique of an ox, the countenance of a fierce warrior, and the soft, kind green eyes of a Ryker. In contrast, Dawn Ryker possessed delicate features - a petite frame, calculating sky-blue eyes, and a heart-shaped face. If personality were reflected in appearance, one might expect Dreymond and Dawn to swap roles. 

“Isaac is down in his little hide-y hole” said Dreymond as he set down the steaming platter of bacon and eggs. “Get him please.”

“Only if I get extra bacon.” Damon replied, already pivoting back to the staircase. The father and son exchanged a wink.

Damon creaked down the dark stairwell into the dimly lit cellar. The place was filled with old family possessions, the junk that Isaac loved to bring home, and the near empty wine rack that used to be as full as the family wallets were. In spite of the downcast lighting, everything in the cellar was well kept and clean. There wasn’t a speck of dust in sight, and the constituents of the cellar were well organized into shelves that formed aisles to the left of the room. The sound of a muffled radio could be heard in the right hand corner, by the wine racks. 

The young Duna needed no light to feel his way through the darkness as he had made this trek almost every morning . When he approached the wall by the racks he pressed a stone tile down and the wall along with the wine rack popped slightly open. With a little effort, Damon pulled the hidden door out into the room to reveal a set of stone stairs with an illuminated room below. The radio was now fully audible, blaring into the cellar. Isaac liked loud. Damon listened as he descended down to the light. 

“BREAKING NEWS! Nemesis has struck again after a long absence, proving once again that this masked murderer is as unpredictable as he is mysterious. This time, his targets were members of the unhoused community. In a brutal and savage attack, 15 bodies were found at the scene of the crime, with each victim appearing to have been mauled by a rabid animal. The killer left behind his mark further demonstrating his warped motives. This vicious act is a reminder that Nemesis is not the hero that some would have you believe. While his previous target was the notorious crime lord, Vincent Duvall, his latest attack has targeted the most vulnerable members of society. The public must not be fooled by this ruthless killer's twisted agenda. The enforcers are working tirelessly- “

*click* 

The sound of radio news was replaced with the melodic strumming of a hesper guitar that lightened the atmosphere. Damon stepped off the last stair and entered the room. 

In contrast to the dark but well kept cellar above, the Ryker family’s safe room was a vibrant, colorful mess. Hesper roots had invaded the circular room covering the ceiling and walls in a deliberate way that made it very pleasing to the eye. Hesper trees are a special type of tree that Barcans can manipulate with their authority. Their wood is quite hardy and their color is an almost gray brown. The roots caressed the lighting fixtures that lined the top edges of the space and framed the numerous paintings that littered the area. Immediately to the right of the stairs there was a lounge section with two cushy couches facing each other, a table in between them, and the door to the bathroom. To the left of the stairs were two beds and a door to a closet. Across the room were two workbenches. The left was for art. The Ryker kids all enjoyed painting and when they did paint, it was in the safe room. The workbench was so used that the wood was barely even visible anymore. It was covered with splashes of all colors making it look like an art piece in and of itself.  The right was for tools and gadgetry. In front of it was a root system that grew out in a way that made for perfect tool holds. To the right of the station was a furnace used to melt metal and cook food. To the left was a mountain of scrap.  Isaac was on the workbench to the right. He looked different than your average Duna. Aside from the glow in his amber colored eyes, most of his features were Barcan. The shape of his face was more round and his eyes were slanted. Instead of paper pale skin, Isaac’s was a golden tan. Barcans and Dunas share one thing, and that is the black hair. Isaac kept his long and tied up. 

He was hyper focused on another one of his gadgets. Reaching out to the wall, he touched a hesper root and it glowed purple. The root maneuvered around Isaac’s fingers and detached from its base. He continued his work, manipulating the root through a spherical device made from junk metal.  Not many people saw this side of Isaac. The boy was an energetic socialite who loved cracking the right jokes at the wrong times. The fact that he had just as much love for things as he did people was a little known fact. Damon picked up a ball from the lounge table.

“Think fast!” He yelled before pitching the ball towards Isaac. The sound of wind whizzing off the ball’s release.  

Isaac dropped his work and spun around in the blink of an eye, small tendrils of lightning flickered harmlessly out of his movements. He nearly caught the ball but it tapped his fingers and ricocheted off the boy's face, making his head bounce back a little. Isaac stared blankly at Damon.

“I swear these fingers of mine are fucking against me.” He held up the hand that failed its task to his face and pointed at it with the other. “Don’t be sorry, be better.”

Damon chuckled, “I threw that ball as fast as I could, I’d say your fingers are just fine. You just give yourself some inhuman goals.” 

“Your father says that if a half-breed doesn’t train hard in their early life they might lose what they got from their parents. If I’m going to be anything but a parasite to your family I’ve gotta work for it.” Isaac said. 

“You’re our family, Isaac. We didn’t help you because we thought you would be useful. We helped you be-” 

“You guys helped me because you people help EVERYONE, and never ask for anything in return.” Isaac interrupted, his amber eyes piercing emerald. “If I was on my own I’d probably just cash in my mana to the Energy Grid and call it a day. But that won’t replace our floors and ceilings. If you Rykers won’t help yourselves then let me do it.” 

“Alright! You win! Stress yourself out all you want!” Damon replied with a surrendered smile. “But foods ready upstairs lets g-”

“Wait! Before we, I wanna show you something… I did a thing.”  Isaac announced as he turned and picked up the thing he was working on. 

“What does that do?” Damon asked.

Isaac willed the mana in his blood to flow through his fingertips and into the device. The almost invisible energy invaded the machine, pure mana looked like air warping next to the ground on a hot day. A purple light turned on and then he tossed it back on the counter. The device started to vibrate and ring like a bell. 

“I got the idea when we looted that Duvall crime scene a while back. If that cat hadn’t made a ruckus, the enforcer would’ve caught us for sure. I was shitting bricks! If Dawn found out…” Isaac shuddered. “Your dad I can take, but that mother of yours can scare the elements out of any Duna.”  

“I can’t believe you talked me into that. We are NEVER stealing evidence from the law again.” Damon said in a serious note. “If we got caught my mom would have been the least of our worries.”

Isaac flashed a grin and flipped his wooden gun out of its holster, spinning it up next to his head with dextrous precision. It was crude and weathered down, the red paint rubbed off on the tip and the handle from Isaacs constant fidgeting.

“Please. It was Nemesis!” he said, gesturing with the toy as if to wave away Damon’s concerns.  “Having a few more trinkets in evidence wouldn’t get them any closer to finding the guy. You know that, they know that, everyone and their mother knows that. The dude’s been at large for like 5 years! The enforcers would probably thank us for taking that junk off their hands. Less paperwork and more free time to shove their heads further up their own assholes. Plus, I’d say our bounty was worth the risk. It’s funny, ever since the government banned firearms the only place you can find them is crime scenes. And you wonder why gangs rule everything south of the river. You’ve seen how it's getting out there, the Duvall’s are making a comeback and with Winden in charge, who knows where they’ll throw their weight. You’d think they would’ve been a little timid after Nemesis killed off half their operation along with big daddy Vincent, but maybe the rumors that they almost ended our mystery crusader have some merit. It’s better that we have them then not. I know it. You know it. Your parents don’t. We should keep it that way.”

“I get it man. You convinced me then and I stand by it, but we are not doing that shit again and I mean that. No more rants please. Let's just eat breakfast and not talk about the fuckery of society. I hate how much of a morning person you are.” Damon said, turning back to the stairs.

“I’m a night person too! You’ve been passing out well before I’ve hit the sack lately.” Isaac stated proudly. Walking on after his best friend.

Damon stopped, then turned around and grabbed Isaac by the forearm. He channeled green mana from his body to Isaacs and then looped it back into himself. It looked like semi translucent mist. Damon’s mind was hit with an image of Isaac's parents. His Duna father and Barcan mother were on the ground in the street. Dead. Their eyes were open and unresponsive. One glowing set of red eyes and a plain set of black eyes. The child hands of a younger Isaac were desperately trying to shake them alive. Sound in the dream was muffled under a high pitch ringing that was agonizing. Just as young Isaac was about to give up and leave the image shifted and Damon’s parents were in their place. Emotions of sorrow, fear, and distress flamed anew, clawing themselves into Damon’s psyche. Damon let go abruptly, taking a step back. 

“You need sleep, Isaac. Have my father see about those dreams after breakfast” Damon chided, his emerald eyes filled with worry. “You live with the only Dunas with a deviance for minds in the world. Try to use that instead of just not sleeping, you fuck.” 

Isaac holstered his gun and paused before giving Damon a silent nod. The two proceeded up the stairs.