Sword Nation 1: House of Rahilius (A Dystopian Sci-fi Romance Novel) Read online

  Sword Nation Book I

  House of Rahilius

  A. J. Ross

  ©2020 by A. J. Ross

  All rights reserved. This book or parts therein may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all my Nieces and Nephews (Sa’mone, Logan, Connor, Myles, Ayden, Braelynn, Kallan, and Ava), whose names and colorful personalities inspired the names and characters in this book. Don’t be afraid to dream big!

  I want to thank all my family, and friends all over the world. I appreciate your support.

  Thanks to MoorBooks for my cover design, and my editor Deborah White. I’m so proud of the work we’ve done!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 Citizenship

  Chapter 2 Welcome, not Welcomed

  Chapter 3 The One

  Chapter 4 Justice of Love?

  Chapter 5 The House of Rahilius

  Chapter 6 A tall, handsome man

  Chapter 7 “Good news, bad news”

  Chapter 8 One Mission

  Chapter 9 The “New kid”

  Chapter 10 Departure

  Chapter 11 The Nephilim, Explained

  Chapter 12 Making Deals

  Chapter 13 Indoctrination

  Chapter 14 Reunited

  Chapter 15 Armed, not Ready

  Chapter 16 One man gets everything

  Earth had enough and turned against them, ravaging society with hunger, plague, and endless disaster. There were three planets in the Diamant Galaxy capable of sustaining human life, and all were agreeable to it by their own terms.

  Delu carried off the youth, Graiis harvested the talent, and Kayora became home to the wealthy.

  ONE

  Citizenship

  Tenacity, rebelliousness, and secretive nature sometimes remain the sole property of fathers’, other times they are gifted as inheritance to unsuspecting sons.

  Lincoln would listen to his father’s endless stewing about his not-so-lot in life. John had left behind his three-time features on the cover of Businessman magazine, his multimillion-dollar self made empire, and a nine-bedroom, twelve-bathroom mansion on the west coast. And for what? A world where money was not allowed, a life gifted to him as a result of his wife’s talents, and a ready-made two bedroom house in a small colony on planet Graiis.

  John wasn’t the only one underwhelmed by the basic adequacy of their new lives. He, along with the rest of the human council, decided the laws were too restrictive. Why should they have to seek the permission of the native Grii people to populate as they pleased or invent what they wanted? Why were they forced to live outside of the illustrious Griician cities, and kept ignorant of their advanced technology, while being denied the right to develop their own as they saw fit?

  They resented the regulations, the segregation, the petitions . . . The dissatisfaction spread, immersing the council in a flood of murmuring criticisms until they could no longer bear it. They turned their attention to Grisian, leader on Graiis, and concluded if he were dead, a takeover would be easy.

  The night before the planned attack, Lincoln sat on the floor with his back flush against his closed bedroom door, listening to his parents argue.

  “Free? Free? You think we’re free here on Graiis?” John asked, taken aback by his wife’s mere mention of the word. “Honey, they tell us what jobs to work, what things we can and can’t build. They put a cap on our education, they tell us where to live, they control our entertainment, even the games our children can play.”

  “John, what’s the point of higher education, when none of our work here requires it? There’s no money to be made anyways,” she stated.

  “And that’s another thing!” he said. “They take away our ability as humans to distinguish ourselves. There's no point to any of our lives, no matter how hard we work. On the other hand, have you seen how they live? They literally have a Crystal City . . .”

  “You’re making the situation sound so much worse than it is,” she said, rolling her eyes. The exasperation in her tone reflected her frustration at an argument that seemed to repeat itself over and over again. The dinner dishes clanged loudly as she took them from the cabinet and plopped them onto the table. “In the contract that we signed here, the Grii agreed to our rights to invent anything, as long as it doesn’t harm the planet. That doesn’t sound unreasonable to me, especially considering we had to leave Earth because of all the damage we did to it. You remember. We were an endangered species, and the Grii saved us from extinction." Her voice broke and the tone softened, "You and that stupid council are going to get us all killed.”

  John dismissed her concerns with a sneer, “Nobody’s gonna die . . .”

  Lincoln always thought about that conversation, wondering if what resulted was just a matter of poor delivery on his mother’s part. She would get so emotional whenever she talked about Earth. Maybe if her argument had been composed, instead of through ragged breathing, his father may have listened. Maybe if her delivery had lacked the theatrics; the flustered cheeks, eye rolls, and clanging dishes, he may have listened. Or maybe not. Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe it was human nature.

  The Grii evidently concluded as much. After the assassination plot failed, Grisian decided rebellion and ambition were simply the traits of men. Determined to make the human population mirror the all-female Griician society, he ordered the death of every male on the planet, apart from a few who would be kept alive for breeding. This was the decree that would forever change Lincoln’s ordinary life.

  In an unexpected display of mercy, Grisian gave mankind two months to prepare a petition in the form of an argument proving the worth of a man. His only rule; the children would present the petition, not the traitorous council. If Grisian was not convinced by the end of the students petition, every male on Graiis would be executed.

  Lincoln remembered standing under the stadium's blinding lights. He could see thousands of eyes glinting with fear, excitement, and hope. He had spent the last two months memorizing words, learning to construct a solid argument, and practicing with his classmates. His teacher chose him to be the leading voice of the petition.

  He did the best he could in speaking of the value of man, but in the end, it wasn't enough . . .

  Although he couldn’t seem to recall Grisian’s words verbatim, it was something like, “You have impressed me and my guests.” He directed his words to Lincoln's teacher, Raymond, as he gestured to the prince of Delu, and the Kayorian prime minister who shared the balcony with him. “Your students have spoken beautifully, and raised curiosities in my mind that cannot be answered in the absence of the male figure within your society. Therefore, every male born on Graiis or en route is to be spared, but all men born on Earth must die.”

  Without hesitation, the general of the Fiie army took action, ordering her soldiers to initiate the slaughter. That day, every male over thirty-three years of age was slain by the Griician army. Every man in the stadium, and throughout all the human colonies. This included Lincoln's father.

  He stood, looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. Today marked the three year anniversary of the petition day ma
ssacre. Days like this he wished he had accepted his teacher’s invitation to quit school. The muscles in his lower back and shoulders were tight, and he couldn’t remember where he had been or what he had done the night before. His deep-green eyes were dull from lack of sleep and an overabundance of alcohol. His head throbbed, particularly on the left side, and his tongue felt sticky and swollen in his mouth. He didn’t look like himself. He looked like his father. The same dark wavy hair he had a habit of letting grow almost to his shoulders before bothering to cut it. The same square jaw and full lips.

  He turned on the faucet and leaned over the sink, splashing his face with cold water over and over again. He would cup his hands under the faucet and stare in a daze for several seconds as the water overflowed, before throwing it onto his face. Again, and again. The shock of cold against his warm skin woke him up and he felt more alert. He grabbed the towel on the bar next to him and wiped his face. The moment it was dry, his eyes were once again locked onto the image in the mirror. The reflection was the same despite his efforts to wash away the similarities.

  In his eyes, he saw the same pain and sense of failure he had learned to resent in his father’s. He couldn’t drown out the voices in his head, or silence the thoughts that seemed to play the same chorus in his mind over and over. Why couldn’t I save him? If I had practiced harder . . . If I hadn’t been so stupid . . .

  He blamed himself, and was embittered by his thoughts; full of anger with no hope of release. His father was gone. He had tried to make peace with his father’s actions and what happened to him as a result. Three years had passed, and Lincoln still wasn’t able to free himself of the guilt, or shake off the ‘what ifs’, and ‘maybes’ that sullied every memory of the entire ordeal. No matter how many alternate paths he could dream up, they all seemed to lead to the same destination.

  He grew up fast to take his father’s place, shedding tears at the funeral but not since then. It became clear as he watched his mother being devoured by her grief, it was time for him to stop crying. They couldn’t both fall apart. Someone had to be strong. Any other feelings he had, he buried them deep down inside.

  His father’s ambition had taught him a powerful lesson. He had seen firsthand how catastrophic one decision can be, and how much damage you can cause to those who love you. He had learned how easily something as simple as a person’s desires could lead them into a dark place, from which there is no escape.

  Lincoln couldn’t have been happier to hear the bell ring at the end of the school day. He was free. He walked down the hall ignoring the excited looks of several different girls along the way. He had become a bit of a celebrity after the Sword Nation petition, much like he used to envision his now best friend, Logan Wade. Only now, he was the one all the girls wanted, and he was the one all the guys wanted to be like.

  He took slow, heavy steps down the hall with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, watching the tiled floor so as not to make eye-contact with anyone. He wasn’t in the mood. Some days were better than others, but this was not one of those days. Today he felt trapped between the contracting walls and the caving ceiling of his own life.

  His celebrity status felt amazing when he had first experienced it three years ago, but now he was tired of it. He had learned to predict what manner of fickleness he would experience from his spectators, especially the girls. The same girls who actively ignored him weeks prior to the petition, were now his most enthusiastic fans. His entire existence was summed up in one question. “You’re the guy who led the Sword Nation petition, right?” In just one day, he had gone from being someone, to something; an icon. Something to be possessed, not necessarily valued. Viewed, but not seen. Heard, but never understood. This was his reality, and he resented it.

  Well, sometimes he resented it. Other times he let himself indulge in its benefits. He was popular, and developed a reputation that made him a hit with the ladies, but often put him at odds with other guys. He didn’t care. He hardly noticed. He scheduled casual encounters with different girls whenever the weight of his thoughts were too heavy and too loud for him to silence on his own. He would drown out the noise in binges of passion. Making love was his drug; the only way he could express his feelings or escape them.

  He left school and went straight to the gym. His best friend Logan was already well into his workout by the time Lincoln arrived. When he saw him, he couldn’t help but feel a hint of jealousy over just how much muscle Logan had compared to him. He was much thicker than Lincoln and his body was much more defined. He was solid and strong, and the women at the gym would watch him the same way the girls at school would watch Lincoln. He smirked, both envious of Logan and proud of their friendship.

  The two boys didn’t speak to each other, Lincoln just began his workout on the machine next to Logan. This had become their routine. They would meet, always on the same days at the same times. Of all the friends Lincoln had ever made, Logan was the one he trusted the most because he was always the same. Arrogant, talented, and magnetic, yet he also managed to be thoughtful, humble, and sincere. His personality was perfectly balanced.

  After the workout, the two stood outside of the building leaning against the wall. This was Lincoln’s favorite time of day. The first sun had disappeared from the early evening sky, and the second had risen. He basked in the warm pinkish-orange glow, and the gentle breeze caressed his skin, cooling him down. He was feeling much better than he had that morning.

  “How’s the council?” he asked.

  Logan shrugged his shoulders, “Same as always. You know Raymond.”

  Lincoln smirked. It still felt odd to hear Logan refer to their former teacher Mr. Arthur by his first name, Raymond. “Is it that bad?” he asked.

  Logan perked up. “Actually, no!” he said. “Guess what?”

  Lincoln shot him a curious glance.

  “In two weeks, Grisian is going to start accepting marriage petitions for his translator.”

  Lincoln felt like a fire had been ignited inside of him, and with it a writhing passion, longing, excitement, and anxiety that danced fervently in his chest. His heart beat faster. The princess. Over the years he had made an art of downplaying his feelings for her as nothing more than puppy love. She had always been far from him in ways more complicated than distance.

  He thought of the nights he used to sneak off into Kymurii, the Crystal City. He thought of the eight miles of road he used to run, just to spend a few seconds in her presence. She was kind to him even when he was a stuttering, weak, and pathetic loser. He didn’t need to be anything with her, but she had a way of making him feel like he was enough. The mere mention of her brought back vivid memories of her beauty and the power she still held over his heart.

  He tried to empty his voice of emotion, “What are the requirements?”

  “Well, first you have to be old enough to marry, and then you have to impress Grisian with your proposal.”

  Lincoln’s heart sank. Eighteen was the legal age the council had established for humans to marry, and it would be another four months before his birthday. He used all his strength to hide his feelings from Logan. His emotions had risen quickly, only to plummet with equal velocity. Had Logan forgotten he was just seventeen?

  “So,” Logan continued, after deliberately giving Lincoln’s disappointment a few seconds to fester, “under the human laws, you’re not old enough to even be a part of the competition. But Griician law states ‘as soon as the male or female body matures enough to reproduce, it is considered as an entrance into adulthood. In the case of the Grii, this usually happens around sixteen years.”

  Lincoln turned to Logan with a look of perplexity on his face. He was familiar with Griician laws, but he was a human, so Griician laws didn't apply in his case. The only person Lincoln knew of on Graiis who benefited from Griician laws, was the princess Braii, because she had been granted Griician citizenship.

  Lincoln’s eyes widened as his thoughts aligned with Logan’s. “Griician Citizenship?” h
e asked.

  Logan nodded, “Exactly.”

  “Is that even possible?”

  “Is it possible?” Logan retorted with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, but Is it easy? No. You’ll have to apply for it. The good thing is, only a few people have ever even attempted it, so it’s not like Grisian has to sort through floods of requests for citizenship. You're the one who led the Sword Nation petition, so Grisian already knows who you are. I think you have a better chance than most.”

  Lincoln could feel the excitement building inside of him. “So, how do I do it?” he asked. “How do I apply for citizenship? Has anyone else on this planet ever gotten it besides Braii?”

  Logan smirked. “This is why I told you it won’t be easy.” He shot Lincoln a sly glance. “The only person I know who has it besides the princess, is Mr. Anarthrous.”

  Lincoln made his way home with his hands in his pockets. His mind was far away, but his peripheral vision guided him along the isolated, dirt path so he didn’t veer into wild yellow grass growing up on each side. He hadn’t seen his teacher in over two years. After Raymond Anarthrous was elected to run the HLEC, (Human Life Enhancement Council) he left his position as the school’s English teacher, and Lincoln hadn’t seen him since.

  He walked past Penny’s house, feeling a twinge of desire to approach it. They were best friends from childhood but had grown apart since the petition. Sure, they got along, but Lincoln was careful to limit the time he spent with her. Whenever they were together, Penny would make sarcastic comments about him and his girlfriends at school, and he was tired of it. As if she were in any place to judge.