Metal and blood. Epileptic lights dancing through the skies exploding in waves from a beam of magnetic magnitude radiating like the sun. It captivates every soul and yet turns away every eye ceasing never ending fights between constructs of bigger and fiercer constructs destroying each other with the violence of vengeance and greed and justice and palpable killing intent like acrobatic assassins culling sheep and the weakest of each other with finesse and excessive showmanship. Beyond all of these rivers of blood and metal lie a structure of structures sitting upon its throne on the horizon like royalty basking in unbound power in which it now shrinks under beaten down at the expense of the very souls it rules submitting to the lights in the sky feeding and yet escaping from the explosive implosion of pure energy manifesting as indelible sovereign of masters and destroyer of reality imposing itself forever through the blinded eyes of the organisms into the souls of the machines deep within the core of the planetary juncture… As the Light invaded the souls and permeated the air-
Strong aroma of copper and iron assaults my tongue… and I jump up as my eyes snap open.
Now conscious, my mind stays fuzzy, but my body whips into action! Taught muscles throw me into the air and I land with a puff beside the bed. The perpetrator barely even registers that I moved. Before the dust settles, bursts of adrenaline rocket through my now grounded body, and I scissor kick the wiry figure off its leg then roll backwards to handspring into a flip to create more space. As soon as my feet touch ground they automatically adjust themselves to launch into a front flip, drop kick and drives the intruder into the ground while my fist sings through the air like a bird of prey!...
Only to arrest all momentum a hair's breadth from his crooked nose as my vision and mind finally clears; and the air itself bursts forward with the leftover momentum from my fist to push his head back into the soil of our hole in the ground of a hovel… doing no more harm than parting his nose hairs.
Evil cackling bursts out from his equally crooked crack of a mouth.
I stare daggers at the old man.
>This senile ole sht is looking for death.<
Words started tumbling out of his vile mouth in a scholarly cadence smothered in a suspicious backwoods accents,
“What? Whi yer looking ah lil ole gramps like that, eh? This aint nothin knew,” he croaked. “I been doin this fer how long nah? ‘Twas yer own fault boy. Gud rahfleses, but youlda been dead a’ready fer failing ta sense mah aurah bafore I done got close ‘nough to touch ya. But I aint mad atchya… Im disappointed... ya usually do well with that.” spittle flew out of his mouth with that last syllable as he sniffed his nose hairs back into disarray and stood up on creaking bones ever so slowly. “What happen’t?”
>Im not even mad he pulled this 'routine' again im just pissed he woke me just when it was getting to the good part!>
“I had a dream! The one day! and it was a damn good one! You just had to..”
His face changed all the sudden. “Gramps? Whats wrong?” I inquired.
>Why’s his faced all twisted up now? looking like i killed his dog and pissed in his-<
“You had.... a dream?... no. No.. what... how do you know? Don't play with me Boy!!”, he suddenly burst out in manic timbre.
>What?... I mean, I know its been awhile… well in fact, i dont even remember the last time I had one, but still...<
I began to explain, “Yes it was a dream, so what? Don't come at me with the mystical bull-”
“What have i told you Boy?!!” He thundered. “I know I taught you better! Those lessons havent gone to waste have they? Do you know what this means?
Of course you do... no you dont... what does this mean?
No! You're not ready... but the dream means you are ready, but no, you cant be.. there is still so much to teach.. more you have to learn...
What was it?! What did you dream??!!!”
>Damn... gramps is even more erratic right now then when he is giving lectures... did i hit’m too hard there or.. Sht...what do i do.. is he full senile now? <
“Calm down! It was just....about...”
>Ah sht... i don't remember<
“It was uhm...violent...?...I.. Im sorry, I cant… remember...?”
>It was a great dream… I know it was… I remember feeling power and thrill and… blinding light? It was only a few minutes ago... Why the hell cant I recall any of it?<
He sucked in a breath, breaking me out of my inner turmoil.
“It.. Its time. Come.” he said with an exhalation that seemed to visibly change his aura. Then he actually about-phased and strode out of the room.
Leaving me confused… and anxious…
>And how in the hell did he drop his backwoods accent so suddenly?
Why the hell am i even thinking about that right now?<
--
--
>Making my way downtown,
Walking fast, faces past.
Im homebound..<
>Why the hell am I narrating my own actions? This is why I have no friends dammit.
And why do they even call it the ‘Downtown’? It is literally and figuratively above all of these ant piles in the dirt the townsfolk call home. I mean, I know its actually in the middle of this giant valley surrounded by a chain of mountains, but...
I remember when gramps started those running routines, took me a whole damn fortnight to run straight across the Valley at top speed… Well, I did have to carry Gramps.. but still..
But wouldnt it fit to name it something cooler like ‘Shogunetsu’ or something? I mean the central building is based off the design from the ancient Feudal era in--- who the hell cares?
Gah. I wonder if they’ll notice my absence… Doubt it. All these familiar faces and none of them even know my name… Gramps made sure of that… told me to be average. Perfectly forgettable...
‘Dont stick out. If you are too weak or too strong you’ll get Killed. If someone remembers you enough to talk about you, you will be Killed. If word of your true identify gets out to your birthparents… they will find you… and Kill you.’
Whatever, who would want to Kill some kid? And for what? Being special?
Well there was that one time… but that could’ve easily have been Gramps proving a point.. I only slipped a little bit out. <
I sigh as I ruminate on old memories, lost in thought.
>Its been so long since I left out on my own. Even those few times going hunting I was with somebody..<
>I’m not sure how I feel about all of this. <
>I mean, I am super excited to go but..
It just feels terribly strange knowing that no one here will miss me. Even Gramps.. as he’s sure I will live the life he wanted to live.. as if hitching his soul on me is a legitimate method of scrying. Pffft.
I have no legacy, no memories with anyone. Even after all the training I feel like I just wasted my time.
What point is there in gaining strength if you have no one to protect, defeat, or just showoff to?<
Not one to let my thoughts, however depressing, blind me from my surroundings, I notice the foliage thinning and signs of the Downtown poke through. Before long a panoramic vista of the city, the only human settlement of any remarkable size within several mountain ranges, is apparent in all its barbaric splendor.
I cant help but to grudgingly appreciate its rustic beauty every time I see it.
Unlike the hundreds of small towns that house only a thousand or so people spread out throughout the Valley, the Downtown is home to well over a hundred thousand denizens and is the only trade center in this desolate corner of the world.
Being at the bottom of the Valley, it is completely submerged in a vast lake in which all the local rivers meet. It is suspended on artificial hills and bridges. Conflating architectural styles, its stone buildings are iced with gracefully slanted and arched rooftops. There are a dozen red and black Paifangs thrusting into the sky, marking the sectors of each class. And in the center of this conflation of styles is a 7 storied Pagoda crowned by a cross atop a Torii. The Temple is situated behind a monstrous clash of Victorian mansion, Italian castle, and Buddhist temple topped by an open dome.
Barbaric, perhaps chaotic, but beautiful nonetheless…
>Alright, enough with the sightseeing, down to business.<
I pulled out the package Gramps gave me, recalling the last words I’ll probably ever hear him say again; >“We’ve been through a lot together. I may have stolen you from your birthright, but only to give you far far greater opportunity. But before that, there is one last routine for you. Your… dream… has demanded it so. I know you never paid much heed to my teachings on soul magics, those out-dated science books have clouded your mind, but you will see soon enough. The only thing you need remember from our lessons, question everything. It is only then will you find the purpose you so desire, and the Power you will need to fulfill it.” <
For the first time in a long time, there was no lessons, no accents, no trickery, no vileness, and damned wicked laughing… just a deep resentfulness, as if he was unwilling to let me go.. and… what may actually have been….. love, according to the books.
>I wonder if I will ever see such a gaze again. >
Finally, the last bit of the memory played itself, >“Dont look for me. I will not be here should you return. And if you do, you will have already failed. There is nothing here for you. Your destiny lies beyond. Far beyond here.
He handed me a package and trembled as he spoke, “With each passing second, the last vestiges of my soul are branding themselves onto yours. Everything you will need in the next routine, your final one, is in this package. Open it when, and only when, you have finished your last hunt. There is so much more I want to teach- CAACK-” he coughed up some blood and continued speaking in a strained voice, “My time is short. Go, find your Purpose, wield your Power, and remember… Curiosity killed the cat, but evolved the human. Ha...ha” With that ever-present crooked smile and vile laugh, his body dissolved into darkness. <
>Gramps, always with the parlor tricks… -sigh-.. at least this one was a masterpiece.<
Putting away the package, I clear my mind for the hunt ahead.
Approximately three dozen guards, two per window and half a dozen at each doorway.
Sun at its zenith, minimal shadows.
A dozen flags, flapping in a north, north west wind.
People already flowing in and out of the central building in front of the Temple.
Meandering waterways separating each sector with a natural moat around the central building.
I take note of the ship docked in front of the central building.
As expected, the trading caravan is preparing their last couple of loads.
I cemented a picture of the sight in front of me in my mind. Launch! I catapult myself into the air by thrusting downwards with a kangaroo kick simultaneously closing my eyes and bending the light waves around me.
>Aint no dark like the complete absence of photons. Hella scary really.
I should be there in 3 .. 2. . 1… <
Easily completing my parabola I slowly rescind the barrier that allows me to bend light and land atop the roof like a leaf alighting atop a pile of rubble. From the vantage point of the North-Western most corner, I stalk each guard from on high, throwing out an Empowered leaf deeply within the folds of their uniforms. A barely visible dot of green amidst the clashing gold and red colors.
Not one to depend too heavily on any one tool, I forego the light bending barrier and opt to discharge the electric resonance shield transparently barring the windows. I suppose it helps that the wind is blowing flag overhead just so for its shadow to mask my own. But first, the guards.
A memory is dredged up into my consciousness of one of Gramps’ lessons,> “Aint no real Hun’ers out ther DISpose-in gau’ds! Them simpal folk just a waste o’ yer breath! What if ya gotta go’on do a target ther again in tha near future?! Then you done got yaself bout thrice mo’ gau’ds!! That dumb sht’ll have ya preparing fa nothin! If that aint a’nough, yer methads are nah Krystal Klear fer all’a World ta see Boy!
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
If ya wanna be a real Hun’er, one tha’ peopal fear even ta think ‘bout, ya gotta accomplish yer hunt withou’ e’er makin it Klear howh twas e’en done. Only when thaye think yer a damned Ghost!.. will yer be a true Mahster mah boy!”>
With that in mind, I take out two sticks from a few a gathered on the way over. Quick as light and light as the wind, I throw one into the river 3 stories directly below and another at a boy on the west side approximately 100 paces out. As if possessed by a demon, a fish jumps out of the water right where I threw the stick and seconds later, a firecracker goes off.
>Hah, as weird as this flying fish is, very few people will recall it over that noisy firecracker. Which in itself is only surreptitious in that it is still a couple hours too early for the monthly going away parade for the trading ship. I hope they boy doesnt get in too much trouble haha.<
The two in front of the window were pretty good; they did not run to the balcony to see what the ruckus was about as expected, but they did lock their eyes on the flying fish craning their necks forward a bit in instinctual curiosity.
Good enough, the area of their peripheral no longer covers the window.
Silent as a lizard, I crawl over the ledge of the roof just as the shadow of the flag flaps over onto this side of the balcony. I quickly place my cupped palm on the window frame and push. Exerting just enough force to create a powerful sonic vibration that slightly disrupts the transparent barrier’s resonators. It does not power off, but flickers long enough for me to swiftly crawl through and unto the ceiling.
>Of course they havent changed those old window barriers, I was kind of hoping it was a bit harder though. Awe well. <
Now I'm directly above the central hallway’s scryer. I chose this window particularly because it was so close to this scryer. It pans across the window as well as the wide hallway far below. Thus I had a 5 second window to… crawl through the window.
>Hah! Hows that for ghostly Gramps?<
>Why the hell am I gloating to myself? The hunt isn't done until its done.<
I scuttle down the ceiling of the hall and finally into the throne room through the open floor-to-ceiling doorway. It probably would have been safer to go through the ventilation system which happens to have an outvent directly above the throne, but alas… too easy. Plus humans rarely ever look up, and even if they did all they would see is a common house lizard at first glance; optical disruption at its finest.
I quickly don my lightbending barrier as I enter the Throne Room.
I make my way above the scryer in the left corner adjacent to the door.
Half a dozen honor guards surround the Throne in a half circle while two dozen regular ones form a passageway of garish red and gold from the doorway to the central dais.
Made clear by the over-abundance of extreme designs, the room has high ceilings and thick pillars. Dynamic gold paint line every surface. The lines were faint by the door, but get progressively thicker with each pillar until it all coalesces with the sun’s rays shining down from the skybox directly above the heavily gilded throne; as if the designers wanted the King’s Eminence to blind the commoners and guests entering from the markedly lackluster doorway.
Though the guards tried their best to make up for the terrible design with five skryers flawlessly set to watch each other as well as most of the room, the overly high ceilings and large pillars made it impossible. There were still a few blindspots of varying sizes. Four of which were directly visible to me between the pillars and the Throne. Another 5 of which were a few breaths above each scryer.
Placing my hand onto the wall, and the other fondling the slight breeze coming from the ventilation system, I began to send small sonic pulses out. Small enough to be undetectable but large enough to just barely slide the lenses of each scryer off by a minuscule amount. Not enough to create further blindspots, just enough to receive a healthy amount of glare reflecting the noontime sunlight pouring in from the skybox above.
Finally making my move, I slowly but surely crawl from one blindspot to another by traversing through the glares. The hand that occasionally felt the breeze would manipulate the ground air towards me so that I could sense where the glares were and triangulate which ones interrupted the paths of which scryers. Since I was technically crawling blind, my other hand would send out additional pulses to help me navigate.
Now in the blindspot of the scryer directly above the Throne, I waited… and waited.. and waited.
I begin to sweat, worrying that someone may notice the glints of gold obscuring some of the scryer vision. Or that I might have to pull out more tricks. Then it happens.
Every so often, this Throne Room would be used to receive guests and commoners, hearing out their problems and of course settling tax disputes. It always started at noon and ended half past midday, coincidentally when the sun was in the perfect position to shine upon the King in all his Splendor. Trade Day is almost always the rowdiest. Inevitably there will be a few disputes that were especially rambunctious.
A man and a woman were arguing about the dowry of their daughter or some such thing. I could hear said daughter crying behind her father’s back as the mother demanded she be appraised for a higher value.
>Wow, she is quite the cold woman. Thank you for that at least. >
As the woman began yelling even louder and saying all sorts of things, I used that distraction to slide down into the crevice directly behind the Throne.... And begin setting up my Signature.
>Gramps would be pissed about this, but hey, its literally impossible to trace and actually helps wonders in escapes. I even used it a few times when I was cornered by particularly troublesome monsters. The only downside is that it takes a few minutes to setup, depending on the size of the distortion, and last for only 63 seconds. <
Luckily the lady was getting hysterical, talking about how she deserves more money for the beauty she raised. And now the man, the father I presume, was yelling something about free will for his daughter, even if her beloved was poor.
As the argument drew on, I carefully palmed out 33 sonic waves and directed them to bounce within the confines of the throne. I also imprinted the particles in the air with the image-memory of the entire throne and the king sitting in his regally bored pose he so often falls into.
The argument gets especially heated, so the king raises his hand while the other is holding his jaw. Everyone stops.
“Show me this.. daughter. Is that her cowering behind you?” he yawns in haughty boredom.
“Yes, your Eminence. This is my daughter, Emily.” Judging by the footsteps and sudden intake in breath, the father stepped aside to unveil a true beauty.
The king stands up as if stunned.
“Give the woman whatever dowry she wants, this girl is now mine. There, problem solved!” The king sits down, falling into a contented position.
Silence.
The crowd bubbles up into a mix of nervous laughs and discontented grumblings.
The mother shouts in praise then bursts out into mad cackling.
The girl bursts out in tears.
The father seems to have turned into a wilderbeast as he bursts out in anger.
Wow okay..., though the sonic waves show the king isn’t in the exact position I need, this’ll do.
I activate my Resonance; springing my Signature ghost imprint. 63 seconds!
Grabbing my sickle, I swing it over the top of the throne and use the bit of added gravity to finish the arc and effortlessly decapitate the King.
Thanks for that your eminence, you made this not only easy, but justifiable too.
Balancing the newly cut head on my blade, I then pop it up, grab it by the hair, and stuff it into my Spatial bag with the rest. Simultaneously, I reach over to rip out his heart with my gauntlet and stuff that into my bag too.
Approximately 58 seconds left. I step to the side into a powerful glare shining off of the throne.
The crowd is in disarray. Half the guards are trying to restrain the father while the mother is restraining the girl from running to her father; yelling something about how much of a privilege this is.
Now that most everyone is distracted, I simply stroll from one glare to another for a few paces straight off the dais and into the midsts of the crowd.
49 seconds left.
Still wearing the same clothes I left town with, I simply turn my barrier off to blend into the crowd. Just like that, I walk out of the throne room with the surge of of people going in and out.
The trading ship is already leaving! There’s only half a charge left on my light-barrier.. whatever, this is my only chance.
I turn on the barrier again and launch myself into the air, unto the dragging rope of the quickly escalating dirigible.
32 seconds left.
Just as I latched on and began climbing, the barrier dies and a man pops his head over the ledge above just in time to see me, “Oye, what’r yu doin down ther!!”
“Just cutting the rope! Someone forgot to untie it from the dock!!” It wasnt actually tied, but he couldn’t see that from his angle.
I cut the rope and he hauls me up.
“Oye, preciate that good feller, thank yer Soul fer lookin out!.”
“No problem, I was just... counting heads.” I chuckled to myself at the injoke and then turned to countdown.
3….2….1
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH,” a particularly high-octave scream assaults the air…
Quite the experience I bet. One second your king is about to make you rich and take your daughter as a concubine, the next he’s leaning on his throne, headless… and heartless. > My smirk turns into a frown as I realize that the trading ship leaving like this may be suspicious. The original plan was to wait till the trading ship left the next morning. That way they would exhaust any leads they ‘thought’ they may have… truly making me a ghost. Wait, no. They dont even have any airships to flag us down with. Wasted the money with that ‘Awe-inspirng’ Throne Room and city design. What do they even need airships for in this corner of the world? > I feel a bit safer now. But just in case… “Scuse me sir, are we going back down? Could be something important.” “Ah, ‘mpor’an me arse! We left early fer lack o’ anything worth the trip! Bunch a waterlogged, backwoods, country folk! No offence.” he grumbled with a toothy grin. “None taken sir, hahaha. Main reason Im leaving now.” “Good choice mah boy! Tis only o’er yonder in the real world will yer find real Purpose and yer own Power!” He promptly turns and heads back into the airship. Cackling madly all the way. ---------- A/N: So.... this took much longer than expected (the proofreading). I still am not satisfied with this... and it may be too long... but tell me what you think! Please give feedback! Also, I am not sure how to maintain/put in effects such as italics and bold... the first paragraph (dream sequence) was supposed to be bolded, and more importantly, every conscious thought the MC has is supposed to be in italics to differentiate itself... but it did not translate over... please share some tips on how to do that right. And above all, please share what you would like to read about!! DONT WORRY ABOUT THE STORYLINE!!! Thats my job haha. Just share whatever you want to read about. And I will put it in. Thanks for reading. Next one comes out in 2 weeks (the 14th).