“So, what brings you here today, Talen?”
Anthony was a man with clear pale skin, long brown hair, and red eyes. Adjusting the white eyepatch covering his right eye, his finger briefly scratched the scar ingrained into his clear right cheek. Clad in a bright red hoodie that matched his pupils; Tony poured coffee for his dear old friend.
Talen lifted the coffee cup. “Unfortunately, just business. But, while I’m here, I might as well ask: how is everything?”
The younger man shrugged. “Some days are harder than others but most of the time, I can handle everything. Still, having to take off this thing and staring at myself in the mirror every time I wake up… doesn’t get any easier.” He dejectedly brushed the patch with two fingers.
Talen slowly nodded. “I see. I wish I could do something to help you… something more, y’know?”
“You did more than enough when you gave me this home. After what happened, everyone was scared of me—deeming me a monster. But you didn’t. You and your family are probably the only ones I can call actual friends,” he said.
Though Anthony’s words were kind and made Talen smile, he couldn’t help but avert his gaze while sipping his coffee. To see such sheepish nature in one who was undoubtedly the strongest made the young man laugh. Puzzled, Amit looked back at his friend with curious eyes.
“Still, I doubt even that eases your conscience. The Talen I know can’t shake the guilt off that easily, can he?” he asked.
Talen sighed, bending forward and rubbing his eyes. “I guess he can’t,” his muffled voice answered.
“You said you came here for business, right? Can I assume this is about the plot to usurp the Crown from King Barron?”
“Yeah. But that’s not all.”
Talen informed him of what had occurred over the past two days, including the attacks on his family.
“I see. So, a mastermind who goes by the alias ‘Angel’ is manipulating Fate-users within the Syndicate to not only evaluate the abilities of the Amit family but attempt to steal the Crown from Supreme King Barron. To be frank, I’m surprised you’re investigating this case at all, considering how much you hate the King and all,” Tony said.
“Well, I’m not doing it for him. Despite how much I hate the old bastard, there’s honestly no one I’d rather have to wear the Crown. But, there’s something that irks me. I don’t understand the purpose of those attacks,” Tal said.
“What do you mean?”
“Fate’s Crown is sentient, meaning it chooses its wearer. The only ones capable of donning it are King Barron and those of his immediate bloodline. But, he only had one son and—“
Tony nodded. “He’s dead, right? Well, I might as well tell you now, even if someone is watching us. A year after I was appointed as the Head of the Syndicate, three guards escorted me here without explanation and I never saw the outside world without their permission again. Officially, I’m still the Head but the truth is—I haven’t given one order to any of the assassins in well over nine years,” he said.
“So what’re you saying? That there’s someone more powerful than you running the head?” The lawyer asked.
“I’m saying that no one more powerful exists. It’s very well possible that the man we knew as one of the strongest of all Fate-users, Uriel Barron, still lives to this day…”
The vaulted memories of the past came flooding back the instant Talen’s eyes opened, allowing the intonation of his best friend’s vocals to echo within the prism of his mind.
"Responsibility is all about entrusting the King in how he decides to lead this country forward. By doing that, Supreme King Barron intends to keep the strong in check and ensure the weak are protected. You see, Talen, we exist to protect non-Fate users’ peace of mind."
Thrust back into the present, Talen covered his mouth, attempting to calm his hyperventilating. With widened eyes, Tony stood up. He ran to the kitchen, revealing a brown paper bag and quickly handing it to his friend. Reluctant to waste any time, he put the bag to his mouth, gradually allowing his breathing to calm while Anthony stood beside him.
“A-are… are you okay?” the younger man asked.
“Yesh,” Tal’s muffled voice said.
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Scratching his nape, Anthony sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean to trigger you or anything. I also don’t wanna get your hopes up. We both saw Uriel die before our eyes so I’m not saying this for sure but… in this world, with abilities like these, it might indeed be possible.”
Removing the bag covering his mouth, Talen slowly nodded. For all of his years spent serving the King and the lofty Syndicate that violated justice, a technique capable of cheating death…
“Does a power like that exist?” he asked.
Tony shrugged. “I can’t be sure, I’m still pretty new to the whole Fate thing. That being said, it troubles you… not just the idea of him living but the circumstances surrounding his death, right?”
Talen was silent. Instead of responding, the saddened lawyer looked away.
“I understand the sentiment. Death is the ultimate destination for humans but no one person dies the same death. From your perspective, you probably thought it was wrong. I don’t blame you. Uriel helped me too. I was lucky to come out alive at all in the first place but I think it’s best to let bygones be bygones. There’s no point fussing over something that happened so long ago.” Anthony sighed, relaxing his shoulders slowly. “But, you’ll still do it anyway, won’t you? I guess that’s just the type of person you are, huh?”
Tony patted his friend’s shoulder and nodded, turning around to start walking up the stairs, shoving his hands into his conjoined hoodie pocket.
The exiled devil fitted with white hair and blood-red eyes appeared beside Tony as nothing more than a hallucination. He followed his vessel momentarily before glancing back at Talen seated on the downstairs couch. He sneered.
“To think you tried your best to help him and he ignored you completely! Isn’t that irritating?”
Anthony shook his head, continuing to walk. “Not really. I’d say I was frustrated but that’s just the type of person Talen is. I doubt I can change him with just a few encouraging words,” he said.
“Did you think it wise to share what you discovered with that bothersome lawyer anyhow? If Uriel is still alive then won’t he put a target on your chest for exposing his plans?” The demon asked.
“Probably. I’m counting on it.”
…
Faced with the possibility of his best friend still living, Talen groaned. Shaking his head while strutting down the street, he stopped in his tracks and examined his surroundings. On the surface, this world seemed so much more normal than how it truly was. With beings like the inner demon of Anthony Whitlock and the ability to warp Fate existing, a technique capable of cheating death… didn’t seem so far-fetched.
Despite that, a fragment of fire burned within Talen, reluctant to believe such a possibility.
Standing in the middle of the sidewalk as idle as ever, the incoming crowd of pedestrians washed over him—disguising his vanishing within the horde of humans.
Reappearing within the confines of his home, he locked the door behind him after closing the apartment’s entrance. Stripping himself of the dirty suit jacket he’d been wearing for days, he pushed himself from the dusty pants as he shuffled into his bedroom. Emerging from his quarters with comfortable clothes, he slid into his living room and plopped onto the couch in front of his coffee table, sinking into the sofa’s cushions.
Arms stretched over the furniture’s length, Talen longly sighed. Affixing his posture by sitting up straight, he hunched his back forward and lifted a joint from the ashtray. Holding it between his lips, he flicked the lighter to light the flame. Normally intending to ignite the spliff’s end, the genius lawyer hesitated; lowering the lighter from the stick in his mouth.
“If I had your powers, I could make it happen. I could ensure justice was served without spilling any more blood. After all, that’s the dream both of us shared. Right… Talen?”
Despite his reluctance to fan the flame, the smoke lifted from the joint’s end regardless, displacing the clarity of the living room air. Sitting in the mist as cannabis’s scent lingered in his nostrils, Talen threw his head back into the pillows. Eyes closed, he inhaled more smoke, opening his mouth sometime after to allow the remnants to leak from his throat. Green pupils open, he sighed, venting a final smoke cloud into the air.
'Ever since that day, I couldn't help but wonder what he meant. For someone like him and the technique he was gifted at birth, the adjective 'blessed' suits him more than me by a landslide. Then again, there were many things I held over him.' The images of Talen's dear family flashed through his head. 'Maybe he coveted them.'
He shot right up, constantly shaking his head. Covering his face with both palms, Amit loudly groaned.
"God, what am I doing? Ughhhhh..."
He sunk further into the couch, crossing his arms. Emerald pupils surveying his lonely home, he closed his eyes and looked away. Ten years had passed and even so, he had no one beside him. Nothing but the bygone memories of the past to peer into, however hazy they might be.
'Isn't this what I wanted, though?' Talen looked back at his vacant abode, robotically scanning these familiar surroundings. 'To not have to deal with anyone else, live without anyone to worry about, and continue a life of doing righteous things, free of concern or anxiety?' He tilted his head and scratched the top. 'Still, I wish I'd known before I did this... that it'd be so lonely.'
Shoving his hand into his pocket, the lawyer unlocked his phone, immediately going to his camera roll. Just as he'd hoped, upon opening this app, he was met with the soothing face of his dear best friend. A teen boy with dull grey eyes and fluffy white hair that rested over his shoulders beamed at the camera. Right behind him, none other than his younger self was throwing up bunny ears behind his friend's head, mischievously grinning ahead as he always used to do.
"We'll laugh about this someday..."