Ravela was making it out of the city as fast as she could. She used the energy in her to jump higher and further than she usually would. It showed in her landings. There was a lot more struggling with balance, though that could be the exhaustion getting to her.
After she left the city behind, not without a few falls near the end, her movements became ever less coordinated. The energy could no longer hide her state and struggle. Ravela felt her leg muscles burning, about to cramp.
She barely made it back to her barn after ensuring nobody had followed her out of the city. Ravela only managed to push open the door a bit before her leg finally gave out. The wooden thud sound her shoulder produced when it bumped against the barn door was almost comical if it didn’t save her the shame of planting herself face down on the barn floor by granting her body a slight spin.
The light still coming from her eyes began to flicker as she failed to retain the energy. Ravela could feel it flowing out of her like water pouring from a broken bottle, seeping away into the ground beneath her.
If her head wasn’t killing her, she might have laughed at the light from her eyes flickering like a faulty flashlight. As things stood now, Ravela was in deep trouble. She tried lifting her head, but her body didn’t quite follow her command. The short lift she achieved was undone the moment she stopped putting in the effort, and though her head didn’t travel far on its way down, the heat going from the contact point with the floor through her entire body, followed by shivering cold all rounded off by a blurring vision inoculated her against any further attempts to move.
This felt awfully familiar to Ravela, and though it was hard to concentrate, she still remembered the time she passed out in her room in Ma Stone’s house.
Ravela couldn’t fall asleep because of the various pains she suffered. She was very much awake when headlights started illuminating her driveway, coming to a slow halt, pointing at the open barn door, and turning off.
This was bad. Whoever had come would find Michael Manus lying on the floor, unable to move and flickering like a defective light bulb.
Ravela heard a door open and close and a person approaching. She wondered who’d come out here at this hour. Would a police officer come at this late hour onto her property, earning himself a handshake with the major for apprehending her on a disturbance call? Ravela sincerely hoped that indignity would pass her by. She hadn’t earned that misfortune. Then again, neither did she earn what happened to her in Pliada City today.
The shadow of the person walking up to her fell over her face, and a flashlight turned on. Ravela’s eyes widened in surprise, and she wished she could speak, but her state wouldn’t allow it yet.
Keeper Namon stood over her paralyzed form, looking concerned yet somewhat in the mood to give a stern lecture. They looked at each other for a long moment before Keeper Namon spoke. “So, you made it back home, Ramiel. I was worried that you’d pass out in some ditch between here and Pliada and drown there.”
‘Oh, that won’t be the way I go!’ Ravela thought in indignant outrage, unable to voice her displeasure at being pointed to the genuine possibility and danger she had exposed herself to.
“I distinctly remember your promise that you’d cut out those expeditions as Michael. The recent events have alerted me to that not being so.” Namon declared while walking past her, lying on the floor, vanishing out of her sight. “I am glad you made it back, though. Truly, I worried. Now, I believe we should talk about what you were doing, what you want to do with your life, and most importantly, how to do this the right way.”
The Keeper appeared back from the barn with one of the old chairs from the house and set it down beside her. “So, let’s have a heart-to-heart talk.” He paused, looking down at her. “Or I talk, and you listen until your state improves enough to join the conversation.”
Namon leaned back in the chair. “Where do I even start?”
Ravela, now, felt twice as stuck as before. She sighed, resigning herself to being lectured by her friend.
“I can’t wait to hear your explanation on how you ended up crashing through one of the Safe House’s mosaic windows, fighting with Major Buster, and nearly firing your gun at him inside the Safe House.” Namon began her admonishment.
Ravela groaned. She wanted to be anywhere but here right now. Maybe drowning in a ditch wasn’t that bad a fate after all.
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Levistra sat in the ambulance by her fiance’s side. Her hand held onto his.
He barely remained conscious. It had never been so bad before. The drawback of his powers seemed to worsen with the intensity of Vex's ordeal.
Vex had suffered a lot in the fight, and they had frustratingly little to show for it. The Bomber escaped, as did Michael Menace, and the cloth that wrapped her husband and gave him his powers demanded its toll in suffering for its protection from Vex.
“I’m here, Vex.” She said, reassuring him that he was not alone. “We’ll get those bastards the next time.”
The ripples of red light and yellow light were visibly pulsing through his veins. The delayed damage his body was enduring was debilitating. The garb was meant to grant the warrior invincibility during battle, and it did just that. But once the battle was over, it slow-fed the person the damage suffered. Scientists have tried to study its effect to no avail. It was entirely outside their understanding. Vex Buster could take a direct artillery hit and come out unscathed, but once the battle was done, the cloth would pass the damage over such a time and dose that his body could heal from it normally without losing a limb or leaving a scar, but with immense pain.
These wounds he incurred during the fight seemed different from taking a direct hit from a tank, and as unbelievable as Levistra found that thought, Vex was going through the motions nonetheless. She only hoped Michael Menace and the Bomber were going through some form of hell of their own.
Every power had to have its drawbacks, after all. And the power to cause such explosions ought to have some kind of recoil, Levistra hoped. As for Michael, she took solace in the fact that any man who got punched by Vex with little restraint on his strength would be dead, and the way Michael left led her to the strong assumption that he was going to have an equally unpleasant recovery. It soothed Levistra’s anger yet lifted none of her worries for her partner.
Vex had told her moments before the painful part of his abilities kicked in how he got them both good. She knew Vex only told her about that punch because he didn’t want her running up the walls while he was recovering, as though she wouldn’t do that anyway.
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Ravela enjoyed stern disapproval as much as the next guy, but this monologue of Keeper Namon was getting out of hand. She caught herself thinking it would have been better if they had arrested her.
It had been a few hours, and while she was thankful for Namon's company through her ordeal, she wished he’d be a bit less disapproving of her efforts, but somehow she had the inkling that even if she laid out her reasons for today’s incident, Namon wouldn’t forget the hospital incident, and wouldn’t be all sunshine about today either.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
She could already predict, with some measure of accuracy, what his opening rebuttal to her reasoning would be. ‘Now, there is a right way and a wrong way to go about these things, and just because it is easier to act with powers such as yours, you must keep your eyes on the right path.’
Ravela laughed out loud and was surprised she didn’t get the reward that any effort or sound incurred from her through most of the night. She opened her mouth and spoke up, interrupting Namon for the first time since he had arrived.
“I can’t believe you just sat there and made me feel bad about trying to do the right thing. It has been four hours!” She carefully voiced her grievance with Namon.
The man seemed more amused than startled at her sudden entry to the conversation. “And what is the right thing exactly? Can you move already, by the way?”
“If you are asking whether crashing through the Safe House window right into a meeting of Keepers and getting attacked by Agent Buster was certainly not the plan, then no. The plan was to catch the Bomber before he massacres a restaurant worth of gangsters and deliver him to the police. Then Agent Buster showed up and decided he had to get me instead of the murderer running through Pliada, which led me to crash your meeting. As for your last question, I happen to find the floor supremely comfortable.” Ravela replied, the last sentence sounding much lamer than she had anticipated.
Keeper Namon crossed his arms and leaned in. “So, you disguise yourself as Michael to stop the Bomber and end up in a fight with the FBI? And what was that business in the hospital in the same vein of virtuous vigilanteism?”
Ravela laughed. “No, that was to find out what kind of powers the people the government found were developing, among other things. Getting caught wasn’t part of the plan there either.”
“So, you just get caught by happenstance and then fight your way out? And look at the state of you now. You can’t keep picking these fights as Michael in an escalating fashion. How long till civilians get hurt, or a police officer? How long til one dies?” Namon said in a serious tone.
There was a long pause as Ravela worked through being told she was on the same path as the Bomber and needed to stop her actions. “The whole reason I went after the Bomber was exactly to stop the death of innocents. It hurts to hear you say he and I are even remotely the same. I am not on some vengeful mission. I am looking out for the people.”
“It looks more like you’re fooling around rather than genuinely helping. Maybe it is time to put the Michael personality truly to rest. You’ve stirred up quite enough nests as Michael, wouldn’t you agree?” Namon appealed to reason.
Ravela pulled a face. “I suppose it is true. I have quite overdone it with my recent circus. Of course, that article is still coming out soon.”
“Article? What article?” Namon asked, caught off guard.
“I chatted with a journalist and spun a big tale for the FBI. I think it falls squarely in the causing trouble category, but not to worry like that. People will be better informed on what the government does.” Ravela said, feeling mighty silly now that she came clean with Namon while she was lying on her back, still unable to move. Or maybe she was just scared of another wave of cramps and stinging headaches.
“And what story did you spin for that journalist?” Namon said, the concern dripping from his voice.
Ravela made an innocent expression and simply said. “Oh, you know.”
“No. No, I do not know. Please, enlighten me.” Namon said, looking at her with even more concern.
“I’m sure it will be fine. Maybe just wait for the article in the Tribute and scold me from there. How does that sound?” She offered.
Namon shook his head. “I’m not going to approve what is written there, am I?”
“Not a chance,” Ravela said with a soft smile on her face. “I am grateful that you came to look after me, Namon. I truly am.”
It wasn’t easy to express what someone caring, whether she lived or died, meant to her. A different question came to Ravela’s mind. “Um, Namon, what’s the time exactly?”
The Keeper looked down at his wristwatch and then back to Ravela, raising a brow. “Why? Planning to go somewhere?”
Ravela didn’t fail to notice the slite against her. “Very funny, but as things stand, there is one appointment I have today, as Ramiel, I mean.”
“I think you won’t miss it. It’s barely 9 am, so whatever appointment you have surely can wait a little longer.” Namon said.
Ravela’s face fell. She should have picked up the girls an hour ago. “I…” The different scenarios ran through her head rapidly. The girls knew by now that Ravela hadn’t just run late by a little. Would they leave things be and go back to their dorm? ‘Not a chance. Safora will probably fly over just to see what is going on. She won’t be missing another weekend without due protest.’
“This may be a bit of an embarrassing request, but I need your help, and you must leave here right after.” She decided to get over herself and ask for help. It beat the alternative of that much Ravela, was sure. “I need help turning back into Ramiel and maybe switching into the clothes over there on the table. That would be just great.”
Namon looked bewildered by the request. “You…what? Why?”
“It’s simple really. I expect that soon, a teenager, maybe in the company of her friend, with the power to fly, will get impatient and fly over here, and if she finds Michael sprawled on the very comfortable floor, she might hand him over to the police. Which, in truth, would be less than ideal, wouldn’t you agree?” Ravela explained her reason for the boundary-crossing request.
“I see.” Namon seemed to consider what she asked of him. “Then we probably should start acting before they walk in on you being….not yourself, hm?”
Ravela noticed the bemused smile on Namon’s face at his own joke. A grin snuck onto her own. They really had similar humor. “No, we wouldn’t want that. Come, pull off the ring first.”
She said, intending to reach out her hand, but it only twitched and lifted a bit. “This is going to be a lot more difficult than expected,” Ravela stated the obvious. “Seem I not in a state to help at all. The ring in the recruit clothes, bring it here. I’d much prefer not to be myself when we do the helping me change clothes thing.”
The Keeper looked at the clothes on the table and walked over without commenting on her preferences.
Ravela meanwhile rethought her life and her decisions leading her here. Going after the Bomber without proper protection, beyond her abilities, had been a grave mistake. There was not a chance that she would act this brazen again. It wouldn’t be long till her hideout was ready, and she could build herself an armor that had no baggage attached. She had no reason to rush things.
Namon returned to her side, the ring in his hand. He lifted her left hand and attempted to pull Michael’s ring off her finger, but it didn’t come off. The awkward pause stretched on, and Namon frowned. “I’m getting some soap. It appears to be stuck.”
He left once again and returned with a bowl of water and a soap bar.
“Apologies, but the water is cold, I’m afraid.”
Ravela would have shrugged or at least attempted to shrug. What was a bit of cold water to her? “Don’t worry about that, I’ll live.”
“I am not worrying, I’m just telling you.” Namon refuted her.
Namon tried with soap and water, yet still, the ring wouldn’t come off. Ravela realized that it wasn’t a fluke. It was by design that the ring could not be removed. “Namon, I think we’re going about this wrong.”
“How so?” Namon inquired, a bit confused.
“Take hold of my other hand to remove the ring with my fingers. I think that is the only way to go about this.” Ravela stated her theory.
“That,” Namon looked down at her ringless hand. “oddly, makes sense. ”
He reached over, clumsily maneuvered her hand, and used her fingers to grasp Michael’s ring. It came off without issue.
‘Who knew it had theft protection? How does it work?’ Ravela‘s mind was answering her question with a small flood of possible ways to implement a removal lock, but none that would fit into a ring. She was intrigued that there were apparently proprietary secrets the potions didn’t divulge. ‘Maybe I could build a hoverboard for herself!’ Her brain supplied possible blueprints that ranged from clunky to satisfyingly sophisticated.
“Ravela?” A voice called her back to reality.
She stopped grinning and returned her attention back to Namon. “I’m sorry I was lost in a thought for a moment. What did you say?”
Namon shook his head and put Ramiel’s ring on her finger. “I just said that is some amazing security measure. Do all of you have these protected personalized possessions?”
“No, it is just me. The others travel much easier than I do. I am, after all, wingless. I’d trade them for the ability to fly. Truly, I would.” Ravela said, still wishing she had been able to keep that hoverboard. “Any other questions on my side of things? You may as well ask now.”
Namon smiled and shook his head. “Where would be the faith in just asking about everything?”
She kept silent and just watched Namon work to help her to become Ramiel again. Ravela couldn’t really move a lot, but she worked with Namon as much as her body would allow.
Ravela would hold this feeling of helplessness close. Remembering it would prevent her from ending up like this again. Who knows who’d find her if there was next time?
‘There will not be a next time!’ Ravela swore to herself while Namon finished her change of clothes by putting on her boots.
“What should I do with the clothes, the ring, and,” Namon held up her revolver between two pinched fingers. “this here?”
She swallowed dryly. ‘Yes, definitely the last time I could end up like this.’ “Just put them in the duffle bag where the other clothes were, and be careful with the gun. It is quite dangerous.”
Namon vanished from her view, and she heard the shuffling of things getting stuffed in a bag. Then, he was once more at her side. “So, as you asked, I’ll be leaving now. Let’s not have another such meeting. Maybe you’ll even visit me next time. I’m a busy man, and the souls of my community need a caring hand.”
Ravela’s expression softened. “Sure, next time I’ll visit you.” She paused. “Wait a minute, technically, I came to visit you in the Safe House today.”
Namon started walking away. “Oh, so you knew I’d be there?”
She laughed. “What? So, it doesn’t count?”
The Keeper called out from his car. “Exactly!”
The car door closed, and she could hear him driving off. Ravela grinned from ear to ear. How good it was to have a friend.