Chapter 22 Goodbye

----------------------------------------

“We’re gonna grab some drinks with Boseman’s team, you coming?” Goliath asked Roach.

Roach cleared his throat and replied, “I’ve got things to do - AH! Oh, fuck!” Sharp pains radiated from his back. He fell to the ground as he tried to itch away the feeling; bending his arm around to scratch the skull on his back. When Goliath went to help, Roach held up a palm. “I’m fine, it’s a good sign.”

“You sure?”

Roach nodded after catching his breath. “I’ll come for a drink, I just need to do some things first.”

Goliath paused for a moment before replying. “Roach, what is all this, mate? Your obsession with this man - the skull on your—” He stopped. “I don’t mean to be like this, but you’re a member of my team. You have to let us in on this.”

Roach climbed steadily to his feet, eyeing the Fodders rushing past the both of them. “Listen, I’ll explain everything after.”

Goliath grunted and replied, “Sure, Roach. Do you need anything?”

“Just get me to him - that’s all I ask.”

“Alright then.”

In East Southalls, Roach lifted the shutters and peered into his lockup. He paused for a moment, taking everything in. It all had to go. He threw a duffel bag onto the counter and began filling it with what he would need for the Headhunt. Guns - lots of guns, grenades, armour and enough bullets to cripple a dragon. He changed too, putting on his smart-casual appearance his sisters see him in and putting his Unwanted outfit into the duffel bag.

When he thought he had all he needed, he flicked up the shutter.

Surprisingly, he found a half-naked woman staring at him with long, greasy hair. She was the same height as him but nowhere near as filled out. Her ribs poked through her chest and every muscle on her body was visible. She didn’t look starved, only deprived of fat. A faded ruinic language encompassed her body, wrapping around her like chains. The only place where it was not faded was her mouth.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Roach grabbed his pistol with his finger on the trigger ready to fire. She knocked it away and landed a square fist into his chest. Roach was sent flying into the back of the lockup.

“I have not come to fight,” she spoke in a strange Transylvanian accent. It sounded as if it was a mixture of a hundred different languages.

Roach groaned and spat out blood. He went to reach for the other pistol but found his wrist had snapped backwards from the impact. “Do you know who the fuck I am?”

“No,” she said calmly, walking towards him. “I feel something, something familiar from you.”

With his spare hand, Roach unhooked a dagger from his leg and jammed it into his head.

The woman paused, completely bewildered at what she witnessed. Her head tilted to the side, watching as his body snapped back into place. An uninjured version of the man stood up.

“I knew it,” she remarked, “Yelia’s blessing. The Dark Woman has found her next victim.”

Roach aimed his other pistol at her head and fired. Faster than he could see, she yanked her head to the side as it hit the shutter behind her. “Such a powerful weapon,” she noted, looking back at the impact crater.

As Roach’s finger was about to squeeze the trigger, she dashed forward and hit it out of his hand. She then got close to his face, staring into his soulless eyes. “Well, show me it.”

Roach swallowed and maintained eye contact; his brain swam around around for ideas but nothing came to mind. He couldn’t shoot her and he clearly couldn’t physically beat her. Does he call it in?

“Mouth trapped in an iron cage?” she questioned. “I do not care for Yelia’s involvement . . . I only thought you were an old friend.”

“So piss off.”

“Piss off?” The woman looked confused.

“What the fuck do you want?!”

“You stole something from me—”

“I didn’t steal shit—”

“Someone did, and I want it back. I could feel you around it. You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

Roach remained completely silent.

“Bounded by a blood oath or are you just loyal like a wolf?” she questioned, stepping closer. Suddenly, she grabbed his nice, clean shirt and tore it completely off.

Roach clenched his jaw. “Is that what you wanted to see.”

Surprisingly, the woman seemed unfazed. “You do not want it, do you? You don’t care for it.”

“I don’t care what it is,” Roach replied through gritted teeth. “Now who the fuck are you?”

“I go by many names, names you’ve never heard of, young brother. I was a keeper of the item in hopes it didn’t fall into foolish and greedy hands.”

Roach eyed the faded words across her body and got an unnerving feeling that she wasn’t human, nor any common race. “I’m not your brother.”

“Oh you are - two of Yelia’s children, only I am far older and you were just born. And, well, I don’t think I can call you my brother yet,” she huffed, eyeing the tallies. “By what madness causes new age Deviants,” she muttered to herself, turning away and looking at the floor.

“If you’ve come to get information—”

“You won’t give it up and I don’t think lining the rooms with your intestines would do it either. But we are siblings, you and I; we may not agree but you must believe me when I say I need what you’re looking for.”

“Need?”

“No, not need, I don’t long for power like that man who stole it.” She spun her head towards him. “So will you help me?”

Roach remained a statue with a blank expression.

“I thought not, for you do not know the truth about the Stone of Discordia.”

“The Stone of what?”

“You will find out one day. Goodbye, brother.” Within the blink of an eye, a collection of bones dropped to the floor in her place. Roach slid down the wall as he gripped a blade in his hand.

“Fuck,” he breathed out.

Once he had collected himself, he hastily retrieved his phone from his pocket and began dialling a recalled number. However, as he entered the last digit, he withheld from pressing the call button. He needed to think it over; who was she? Is she here for him or his sisters? The answers weren’t clear to him but her approach wasn’t devious. Roach had spent a lot of time with liars, thieves and criminals but not once did she ooze a similar aura. She wanted to be efficient but on the other hand, she wanted to introduce herself. She didn’t seem to be backed by anyone - she was acting on her morals.

Roach calmed his breathing and got up. Whatever she was and her motives, he didn’t care for it at the moment - he needed to go. In a rush, he threw on a t-shirt and then dug in a cabinet for a jerry can. Once he had found it, he dosed everything.

He lit a cigarette as he leaned against the back of his car. There was no turning back. Only getting halfway through it, he threw it on a trail of kerosine that zipped to the middle. An explosion occurred that rocked the building but Roach was already far gone.

June rested on a sofa in the lounge. She was wrapped up in blankets and was staring past the TV. She was recounting the events in her mind when a remote was thrown at her.

“Why would you do that?” June cursed at her sister.

“I’m going out,” May replied, throwing her hair over her shoulder. She was wearing a little black dress with an open back. “Elora invited me to a - oh.” She looked at her phone. “It’s just been cancelled.”

Just then, the front door opened.

“June? May?” Roach’s voice came through.

“We’re in here,” June called to him.

Roach entered the lounge spotting his two sisters, completely forgetting the fight he had. “You ok you two?”

“What’s happened to you?” May asked.

Roach looked at his reflection in the window. “Some twat attacked me on the top train,” he dismissed. “Guards got him.”

“What are you wearing?” May questioned.

“Clothes, May. I’m not going away, just running errands for the boss.”

“I like you better in a suit,” May told him, squinting.

“Come here you two,” Roach said, sitting down on the sofa opposite June. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out two sets of earrings.

“Oh, Sol, you didn’t have to,” June said, hurrying over to him.

“Rose gold?” May questioned, squatting next to him to gaze at the presents.

“I wanted to give you these. I know it’s not much but it's still something.” He handed each of his sisters their earrings. “After the Horde, it made me realise you guys are vulnerable and I’m just scared that you two - if I’m not around, then I won’t be able to take care of you.”

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

“What’s up with you?” June asked.

“Nothing. The Horde made me realise something that’s all. Come here.”

“Do we have to?” May pleaded as Roach grabbed her shoulder.

Despite the protest, he pressed each of their heads into his shoulders and held them there for a moment. He stroked their hair gently and kissed them quickly each on the forehead. “Ok, I need to shoot again.”

“More work?” June questioned, placing a hand on his forearm.

“Yeah. It’s all tits-up after the Horde still. I want you to promise me that if anything happens to me, you’ll look after each other.”

“We always do,” May replied, cocking her head. “Somethings not right with you.”

“You’re imagining things,” Roach replied, smiling without his teeth at her. “Ok, I’m off, call me if you need anything.” He jumped off the sofa and turned around to look at his sisters for a final time. He didn’t say anything, just stared at them.

The two were dumbfounded and confused; he had never acted this way. Eventually, he smiled once more without his teeth and took his leave.

When he reached the door, however, he noticed his face was wet. Ever so slowly, he felt a single tear trickle down his face. He pressed a finger against it, feeling the warm liquid. He had never cried since the experiments - he didn’t think he could.

He breathed out, re-adjusted a duffel bag on his shoulder and walked forward.

----------------------------------------

In a bar with nothing but kegs, a bartender and drunk Unwanted, the Ill-Favoured Five sat with Boseman’s team, the Jagers, at a booth in the back. The only one missing was Roach. Although the bleak bar was full, they had saved a seat for him. The War Party was assembling; everyone needed a drink to calm their nerves.

Roach stepped in and Goliath called to him. “Roach, over here!”

That was when all the patrons stopped talking and set their glasses down. After all, he was now the unofficial ambassador. He was in the spotlight and whenever someone mentioned the Unwanted, the name The Immortal was attached.

Roach halted in the middle of the bar and looked around. With angry confidence, he yelled, “What the fuck are you all staring at?” He met as many eyes through their mist as possible.

Everyone went back to drinking and light chattering.

Roach sat down in the spare seat.

“Glad you could make it,” Goliath told him, nudging him with his elbow. “You’ve met the Jagers right.”

“I don’t think I have to be honest; I didn’t go to Boseman’s birthday party,” Roach replied.

Boseman set down his drink and cracked his neck. “Bet you’re glad you didn’t come to that. This is Kilo, Nest and Trust,” he introduced. “Trust is a Spatial Mage, specialising in multiple and immediate portals. She’s gotten us out of tricky situations. Nest is our scout; Raven-kin so he hears and sees all. Lastly is Kilo, who I hoped would never meet Spike. Expert spearman and she can take a punch.”

It was a team of four which was the most common within the Unwanted. The Spacial Mage, Trust, appeared to be a tiny human woman with dark purple highlights running through her brown hair. Roach had no doubt she was powerful but her demeanour and clothes told the story of a nobody.

Nest was a Raven-kin; he was tall, just shy of Boseman, lanky with an elongated head and pointier ears than Mute. He had many pockets in a large jacket he wore. Sticking out from his sleeves were overlapping feathers.

Lastly was Kilo, another human woman with tanned skin and dreadlocks so thick an armoury of weapons could be hidden inside. She wore a unique set of armour made of bone that was unknown to everyone else. It interlocked at every joint and only a fraction of skin showed. It looked sharp but appeared light and allowed for high mobility.

“And we are the Jagers. With a higher score than you. By stats, we’re the best team ever in New London,” Boseman boasted.

“I see four of you and five of us,” Goliath snapped back.

“Individually, you beat us. In a team fight, you have no chance,” Boseman went on, grinning under his mist.

Kilo placed both her elbows on the table and looked at Roach. “You’re the famous one then.” Her voice was deep and manly which coincided with her laid-back body language.

“I didn’t ask for it,” Roach replied, sipping a whisky Goliath placed in front of him. “Mercy made that call.”

“Are you really immortal—or thee Immortal?” she questioned again, her tone teasing.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Goliath interrupted.

“If he’s joining us in the Headhunter, I wanna know,” she stated.

Roach cleared his throat and was about to respond when Nest, the Raven-kin spoke up. “I don’t see any mana in your body,” he stated in a neutral accent, darting his head from side to side. His tone was odd, almost robotic, “Are you hiding it?”

“All you need to know is that you can’t kill me.”

“You heal fast or you’re indestructible? I watched ya get torn to shreds in that video,” Kilo countered.

“As did I,” Nest agreed. “Can you regenerate from being entirely disintegrated?”

“Yes,” Roach responded, getting agitated.

“Fuck me, guys, give the cunt a break,” Spike interjected. “I mean, what does a lesbian from Mad Max, an autistic fuck and a girl who likes to watch people piss need to know so much? He can’t be killed, end of.”

“Hey! I haven’t said anything,” Trust yelled, her voice far squeakier than her appearance.

“Yeah alright, that was a bit harsh,” Spike admitted with open palms.

“Call me a lesbian again and I will rip your balls off,” Kilo threatened, pointing a finger at him.

“Clockwise or counterclockwise?”

“That's some big words for a bard with a gobby mouth. What do you even do anyway? Sing cunts to sleep?”

Spike outstretched his fingers and strummed a note on his guitar by his side. All of a sudden, everyone got a chill through their spine. A single note alone had influenced their bodies.

“Incredible!” Nest exclaimed. “Can you influence specific areas of someone's body?”

“Nah,” Spike huffed. “I just give you a hard-on for killin’.”

“So you’re moral support?” Kilo questioned, a grin under her mist.

“Oh, the best, and who doesn’t like morale support? For example, your dad was giving me moral support while I was fucking your mother—”

Boseman grabbed Kilo’s armour as she went to lunge for the eccentric bard. “That’s enough outta both of you. We’re supposed to be a fuckin’ team ‘ere,” Boseman angrily explained, a thick accent slipping out. “Can we get down to business now that Roach is here?”

Everyone nodded while Kilo slowly sat back down.

“Can we have some privacy, Trust,” Boseman asked of her.

Trust held up her palm and the entrance into the large booth was painted purple, blocking out wondering eyes.

Boseman reached into his cloak and revealed a black device. He placed it on the table and a hologram lit up above. It first displayed a New London Citizen’s ID with an infamous face attached.

“Target is Akira Weslen, the Leader of the Children of Discordia. Necrowarrior from both Wars of New Kings. Disappeared ten years ago and was the suspected leader of the Band of Unholy Brothers. He is extremely powerful and was offered a Grand Master’s seat in the Seven Sphere Academy for Necromancy. This guy has fought more wars than any of us put together. I want eyes open for all of ya, that goes for you three as well.”

Boseman tapped a button and the hologram changed to display a scarred mountain range. “Old Suffolk—abandoned mana crystal mine from before the Great Merge. The disruption from the fucked up landscape means we can’t get an accurate reading of inside it. Plus, whenever we do send a drone, it loses power a mile away.”

“It’s the item,” Pointy told him.

“Yeah. You lot haven’t heard about this yet. He stole something,” Boseman stated to his team.

“What is it?” Nest queried, ruffling his feathers in excitement.

Boseman shrugged.

“It’s a potent mana battery,” Pointy replied.

“Wouldn’t that kill him?” Nest questioned, his head snapping towards Pointy.

Pointy nodded. “Yes, but what he can do with it in that time frame is what is most worrying.”

“Wouldn’t it be best to wait him out if he’s gonna kick the bucket?” Kilo proposed, sipping vodka out of a pint glass. “He ain’t getting close to the city I can tell you that.”

“It is undetermined how long he’ll last. The source is unknown. It may even be infinite,” Pointy told them.

“Highly unlikely—he’s not a False God,” Nest countered. “His days are already numbered … We all know he cast Veil of the Undying Mist which is a—”

“Tier 7 spell projected to an enormous scale,” Pointy interjected. “It has not been cast since the Second War of New Kings due to the complexity and need for powerful mages that neither he nor New London possesses. He cast that alone. Now that I say that back to myself, he’s going to be a force to be reckoned with,” Pointy said, exhaling and staring at the table.

A few uncomfortable seconds passed before Goliath spoke up. “He’s still one man,” he grunted.

“He’ll be setting traps,” Roach added. “Not to trap but to kill. You know he is the sole reason Kronos’s Keep is a Free City. He ambushed an entire battalion, leaving only a sole survivor to inform a general.” Roach leaned onto the table, garnering every pair of misted eyes. “We are the Unwanted, but this man is a different breed. You may have killed hundreds but he has killed tens of thousands. He will know every entry and exit point. If he has not gone mad, he would have predicted everything.”

“Full caution then,” Boseman concluded.

“No, we’re back to fucking training—Stage 3, everything unknown.”

“Isn’t this all thrilling!” Trust exclaimed out of pocket, her knees jumping up and down. Realising it wasn’t the right thing to say, she ducked her head into her chest.

“Trust likes a challenge,” Boseman explained.

“We all do, but we don’t like an unbeatable one,” Goliath commented, taking a sip of whiskey afterwards. “Roach, if what you say is all true, what do we do?”

“Brace?” Spike jokingly offered.

Roach ground his teeth. “We have to fall into every trap.”

“I wouldn’t have considered him having a flair for the dramatic,” Nest muttered.

“There’d be no other way except his,” Roach explained. “Trying to outwit him would take too long. We go in hard and fast, take each problem as it comes.”

“So we just improvise?” Kilo questioned, throwing her hands up. “And how the fuck d’you know all this?”

“Military records,” Pointy covered quickly without knowing the truth. “His entire history is available to us.”

“So is this what I’m going to tell Administrator Speaker?” Boseman questioned the group. “We’re going to improvise once we get in?”

“Brace,” Spike corrected once more, lighting a cigarette. “And clench.”

“What entry point are you thinking?” Goliath asked Boseman.

Boseman fiddled with the device, bringing up a closer image of the scarred mountain range.

“You must be joking,” Pointy said, flustered.

“I’m not,” Boseman replied.

“What’s the entry point?” Goliath questioned.

“He wants us to free fall through the holes in the mountain,” Pointy replied, massaging his temples. “How do you think we can manage that—a wingsuit couldn’t possibly hit those corners—and, we don’t even know if it will lead to the mine. Surely a small hovercraft would be suitable.”

Boseman fiddled with the hologram. “This is the most recent image. Taken 30 minutes ago.”

“How the fuck has he got anti-air?” Spike questioned, scratching his head.

The hologram revealed a small army equipped with weaponry from both Wars of New Kings setting up outside the main entrance into the mine.

“Is he buying time?” Goliath grunted.

“I think so,” Boseman agreed. “Anything flown near there will be blown to bits. We don’t know what mages he has as well. Our best bet is straight down.”

“So we’re base jumping into a mountain without parachutes,” Roach summarised, twisting the glass around in his hand.

Boseman shifted his attention to Trust. “Do you know why her name is Trust?”

“Enlighten us,” Pointy said, a hint of untrust in his voice.

Trust fiddled with her hands and looked as if she was soaking up courage. She suddenly stood up quickly, declaring, “As Boseman said, I am a Spacial Mage, specializing in rapid teleportation. Also, I am adept at gravity manipulation and capable of creating temporal voids in space to move us.”

“So trust her,” Boseman added. “I have for the past eight years.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Goliath huffed, taking a sip of whiskey. “What if the holes don’t lead into the mine? Can we check?”

Boseman shook his head and responded, “If Trust can’t portal all of us through, then we go to plan B which is my speciality.”

“Blowing shit up, huh?” Spike figured.

“And when we’re in?” Goliath went on.

“As the bard said,” Kilo interrupted, “Brace.”

“Fine by me,” Goliath grunted. “What about the rest of you?”

“Fine,” Roach agreed.

“Skeptical but when am I not,” Pointy sighed.

“And her?” Kilo questioned, nodding to Mute.

Goliath took one look at her. “She’s in.”

“Why doesn’t she speak?” Kilo questioned. “She deaf?”

“She’s not,” Goliath replied, watching Mute’s body language. “She says she can hear everyone. She’s in.”

Kilo threw her hands up in the air sparingly. “I give up with you lot.”

“And what about me?” Spike interrupted, hands on hips. “Is my opinion not valid to you cunts?”

“Are you in?” Goliath asked him.

“No shit I’m in - fuck this guy. I gotta get my revenge.”