Blackjack stroked his chin as he weighed the advantages of each weapon against one another. Although it would be wonderful to be at full physical strength and have the means to directly face armed opponents, he saw more utility in having his magic. The wand was to be his goal. He wasn’t worried about it being damaged, it was several dozen times stronger than steel. His only concern was the possibility that a powerful, or several powerful beings may own it.
Blackjack closed his eyes and reached out with his right hand. Deep in concentration, he was feeling for the wand. He spun very slowly, trying to gauge in which direction it was in. Once he detected it, he opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. His capacity for geography was severely limited, but there was nothing notable in the direction he was headed as far as he could see. The cliff he was standing on overlooked a lush forest, stretching out for miles before fading into rolling hills.
“My dear Dreambinder, I am coming for you.” He said as he gracefully dove off the cliff. He quickly picked up speed and tightened his pose, his arms kept by his sides. The wind blew his black hair back, the emerald green streaks glistened and shone in the sun. He narrowed his eyes as he blazed towards the treeline. Just as he was about to crash, he spread his arms and summoned the wings. He leveled off and soared. The trees below him cracked and bent from the force, their leaves were torn off from the wind. He flew like this for a few minutes, covering several dozen miles before he decided to gain some altitude and slow down.
He looked at the world below him, noticing once more the roads the humans have built. He realized that he hadn’t yet seen any fairies, giants, demons, or goddesses since he woke up. It was strange, that the weakest of the 5 races seemingly has taken over Britannia. He would’ve considered this further if he didn’t suddenly feel extreme pain in his head. It was as if he had been stabbed through the temple. And with the pain, came screams, 5 different voices seething with hatred.
He went blind and saw nothing but white. He instinctively clutched his head, but by doing so forfeited his wings. His speed and angle sent him diving into the trees. With massive cracks and crashes, he demolished several before he crashed in the ground, making a mini crater. He rolled around, clawing at his head so hard he bled. The taste and smell of the dirt he had so epically planted into was sour and damp, and only added to the unpleasant experience. He struggled to get into a sitting position and only ended up collapsing into the fetal position.
For several minutes he sat, feeling like he was dying. Then, just as quickly as it came, the pain vanished again. His head felt empty, and he felt extremely drained. He looked around at the mess he made and saw trunks and branches strewn around him haphazardly. He grabbed a large one that was laying across the ditch he was in and used it to pull himself to a standing position. As he pulled himself out of the hole and began tossing aside the debris in his way, he heard voices coming from the outskirts of the forest.
“I think he’s over here!” One of them yelled. The voice was that of an old man, he could tell that much. And a quick sense allowed him to tell that the man behind the voice was rather powerful, compared to the other humans he had met. He made sure his darkness was clothing him, then called out, “Hello? If you are referring to the person who just turned himself into a bomb, that was me”. He cleared the brush and saw that the source of the voice was indeed an old man. He was quite short and had white hair fit with a mustache and beard. He wore a green shirt with the symbol of Danafor on it, which Blackjack found extremely odd. Upon seeing Blackjack, the man instantly tensed up. Blackjack looked behind him and saw a traveling merchant; his cart being pulled by two mules. The man standing close by to it was much younger and wore simple wool clothing.
“Who are you?” The old man asked abruptly. Blackjack was slightly taken aback and responded,
“My name is Blackjack. Who, may I ask, are you?” He asked, slowing his pace but continuing to walk towards the man, who was now clenching his fists and stood in a staggered stance.
“I am Cain Barzad. Former Holy Knight of the kingdom of Danafor.”
“Ahh Danafor, I have studied what happened to that poor place. It is such a shame, so much death that could have been avoided…” Blackjack shook his head. Cain began to step back to match Blackjack’s pace, keeping a distance of about 10 feet. He noticed this and inquired. “Why do you seem so jumpy?”
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Cain’s breathing quickened slightly, the presence the man in front of him was giving was unmistakable, but it couldn’t be true, could it? “You are a demon, are you not? I have heard tales of your kind from Meliodas. And your power, the shockwave, could it be you are one of the Ten Commandments?” Cain grew pale, his fists trembling.
Blackjack stammered for a second before laughing. “You are so close to the truth, yet not quite there. No, I am not yet a Ten Commandment, but I do seek to join them. I do have the powers of a demon, but I am a little bit more.” Blackjack looked at Cain with a large smile, his fangs showing. “And now, here is what is going to happen. I am going to take whatever clothes you have here that will fit me, and you are going to tell me what to expect when I continue my journey in that direction.” He said as he pointed to where he was headed to retrieve his wand.
“Why? So you can kill and destroy, and join the greatest evil to have ever existed? No. That is not what is going to happen. Troy, run!” He then punched towards Blackjack, and from it came a funnel of orange flames. The heat ignited the dry brush behind Blackjack, and the flames themselves bit and clawed at his body. Blackjack stumbled back before he was able to turn his face to the side.
“Wow… he has more courage than I thought he would. Time to teach him the error of his ways.” He thought as he turned so he was getting hit on the right shoulder mostly. He allowed Cain to continue his attack for a few more seconds, taking in the technique and magic in its entirety. Once he was done he summoned three small orbs of darkness in his left hand, which was behind him. He kept them levitating around his hand. He took the first one and willed it into a flat disk. He then expanded it and hurled it against the barrage of flames, easily deflecting it. It flew towards Cain, who saw it and dove out of the way. In that split second, Blackjack split the second orb into two pieces and flung them at Cain. Cain surrounded his left fist and attempted to deflect it with a downward strike.
“Foolish mistake,” Blackjack said, as the half-orb extinguished his flames and covered his hand. It spread up to his elbow, and Blackjack willed it to twist Cain’s arm to the side so the bottoms of his forearms were facing up. Wincing in pain, Cain reached over to try and remove the inky trap, only for the second half of the orb to latch onto his free hand and do the same. Blackjack smiled as he slowly walked over to Cain, the final orb gently floating around him. Cain struggled, his face turning red. “I am getting used to beating you, weak humans.”
Just as he was about to finish Cain, Blackjack sensed that the other human was charging from behind. Spinning around, he formed a long needle of darkness over his right hand and stabbed it into the boy’s heart. He stopped in his tracks, and dropped the mace he was holding. He looked into the boy’s eyes, wide as they could be before retracting the needle and letting him fall to the ground.
“No! You monster!” Cain screamed as he twisted so violently his arms snapped at the elbows. Blackjack turned to him slowly, a small frown on his face. He grabbed the orb out of the air.
“I was born to be a monster, Cain.” He said as he placed the orb onto Cain’s chest. It instantly and quickly spread the darkness over his body, turning it to dust. Cain screamed silently as he crumbled into nothingness. Blackjack watched as the wind took away the ashes that were once Cain, and brought the darkness back onto him. He then stepped away and walked towards the wagon. He took a few minutes to search the contents and found a simple set of silk undergarments. After putting them on the reabsorbed his darkness, no longer emanating the demonic power. “Now I can finally blend in,” He said, looking down the road. It went in the right direction and surely led to a village or town eventually. Blackjack walked down the road. “Perhaps this will allow me to avoid killing everyone I meet.”
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Blackjack had been walking for quite a while before his thoughts, which were forming a plan and pondering the new world, turned to his life before being imprisoned. The bittersweet nature of remembering his training with Iscariot, Simon, Bartholemew, and his other siblings brought tears to his eyes. His heart ached as the buried memory of what had happened surfaced once again. “No. Don’t think about them. I did what I had to do. We all did.” The day's warmth and gentle rays of light kissed Blackjack’s face as he reached the top of a hill. He stopped on the hill and absorbed the first act of kindness he received since he was freed. He looked down and saw a developed town, the glass windows reflecting the light and nearly glowing.
The gentle breeze blew towards the town as if it were calling him. He took a deep breath and began walking down the hill. “Please let the rest of this day go smoothly”