The capital train station was filled with a cacophony of sounds, each one competing to be the loudest. From the high pitched whistling of the steam locomotives, to the screeching of passing children. Throngs of people packed the station, each one traveling to or from the many corners of the Empire. While there were many similar train stations in the Empire, none could compare to the grand station of the capital. The floor was a mosaic of various tiles imported from who knew where, the walls covered in frescoes that depicted the birth of the Empire and the Gods that watched over it.
They told the death of the old world, the journey that had spanned the vastness of the stars and of their fated meeting with the Celestial Court before seeding their current world. It was these Gods that had breathed life into the various races that now called the Empire their home. As amazing as the depictions were, the most impressive thing was the massive glass ceiling, it was fashioned to appear as one continuous piece that spanned the whole of the station, a marvel of engineering that was becoming more and more scarce these days. A massive clock hung from the ceiling above, its four faces telling the time for any and all to see.
Rann cast a glance over the bustling crowd as he stood at the entrance to the station, marveling at the sight of so many people. He made sure that the wide brim of his hat blocked his view of the ceiling above as he got his bearings. He clenched his fists to try and stop the tremors as he let out a shuddering breath. It wouldn’t be much longer until he could finally relax. It didn’t take long for him to spot the main ticket counter located across the sea of travelers.
Taking a moment to collect himself, Rann smoothed his hands over his coat to ensure he hadn’t forgotten anything. It still felt wrong to be in civilian clothes, for the life of him he could not recall the last time he had worn anything but his war garb. By his recollection this was the first time in at least two hundred years. The white dress shirt he wore was a bit baggy over his large frame, a pair of slacks helped keep his trousers in place and a large tan overcoat covered him down to his knees. The wide brim of his hat helped hide his eyes from anyone passing by. All in all he must have looked quite odd in his ill fitting attire, but he had purposefully reduced his size so as to not stand out as much amongst the other races.
He had his money purse and wallet, as well as his ceremonial dole and kafka, his elixir case was still in his breast pocket though he doubted he would have need of it. In the liner of his coat were his discharge papers, they felt wrong in his hands as he stared at the creased paper. Lastly with a sigh he reached to his hip to ensure that the symbol of his shame was still there, bundled and sheathed to avoid attention. To his displeasure he found that the accursed thing was still where he had left it. A pity.
The chiming of the grand clock stirred Rann from his stupor as he quickly grabbed his luggage and hurried towards the ticket counter. He tried to carefully move through the crowd but he bumped into a man from behind.
The large fellow he had struck turned with murder in his eyes before blinking in surprise at the sight of Rann’s slit iris’, a heartbeat later the blood drained from his face.
“My apologies oh ancient one.” The brute stammered.
Rann waved a casual hand. “The fault is mine. I was preoccupied-” Rann paused as he watched the large fellow begin bowing his head. Why do they always bow?
Grabbing the man by the shoulder, Rann felt the poor soul's body tense. “Relax friend, all is well. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a train to catch.” With a final pat on the towering man’s shoulder Rann hurried to the counter.
There he found a smartly dressed Tideborn man whose slightly blue hued skin marked him as one of the Allmother’s children, he was minding the counter with a warm smile plastered on his face. The Tideborn bowed his head slightly as Raan approached. “Good morning sir, how can I help you today?” He said.
Rann cleared his throat. “Morning. I was hoping to book passage out west.”
“By the saints! You’re an Ono! I’m sorry sir, I had no idea I was speaking to one of the protectors of the Gods. I would be happy to help you. You mentioned you were heading west? Where are you headed, Fort Thorn? Or perhaps one of the frontier bases?”
“I was hoping to find a train headed out further west than that, perhaps towards the Shattered coast.” Rann said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“I was unaware of any Ono bases along the Shattered coast.”
“This isn’t official business.”
“Oh! Forgive me.” The Tideborn said with a bow. “I was being presumptuous. Who am I to tell a warrior like yourself where to enjoy your vacation.” The man turned and began typing on his console. “You are in luck today sir. We have a train leaving in ten minutes that is heading that direction, and it looks like it will only take a single transfer to get you onto the train heading into the Shattered coast. When should I book your return ticket for?”
Rann reached for his money purse. “I won’t be needing a return ticket.”
“How will you be returning without a ticket sir?”
“Simple. I don’t plan on returning.” Rann said.
The Tideborn leaned forward. “Sir, do you not intend to return to service? Desertion is a crime punishable by death!”
With his other hand Rann reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the folded document and handed it to the shocked teller. The man scanned the document, his face draining of color as his eyes bulged out of his skull. He looked up at Rann and then back to the document, rereading it to check its credibility.
“This can’t be real. I don’t understand…” The man trailed off as he reread the document a third time.
Rann glanced up at the smaller clock on the wall behind the Tideborn before risking a quick look over his shoulder towards the entrance hesitantly. “Sir, I don’t mean to be rude but you mentioned that the train is in a couple minutes and I would really like to get going.”
The man handed back the document and began printing up the ticket. “I am so sorry sir. I was just surprised, I have never heard of such a thing happening before.” The man handed Rann his ticket with a bow of his head. “Here you go sir, thank you for your service.”
As he grabbed the ticket Rann glanced down and scowled. “First class?! Now see here, I don’t have the kind of money to-”
“Do not worry sir, I upgraded your seating free of charge. It is the least I could do for you in thanks to your many centuries of hard work.” The man smiled ear to ear as he loudly spoke, drawing glances from the other tellers and the surrounding crowd. For a moment the man’s eyes flicked around, his lip curling slightly in self satisfaction.
Rann held his tongue as he pulled out the chips to pay for his ticket and placed them on the counter. Without a word he grabbed his luggage and began walking towards the station listed on his ticket as he let his mind wander. Hold on for just a little longer.
As he waited, Rann kept his eyes open for any unwanted guests. The minutes passed at a grueling rate until finally the train arrived, and Rann found himself in a luxurious first class cabin.
He cast his eyes to the ground as he shielded his view of the window with his hat. Cautiously he approached the large window and reached blindly until he found the cord for the shutters, it was only after he was sure that the window was completely obscured did he finally allow himself to look around the cabin properly. There were four seats that faced each other beside the window and a cot for sleeping. The walls were wood panels carved with scenes from the scriptures, the craftsmanship was worthy of praise even if it seemed a tad much for Rann. Still, it was a nice change from his old quarters.
After placing his luggage in the upper storage Rann sat on one of the seats and leaned back. Only to feel the thing on his hip dig into his side. With a growl of displeasure he pulled the wrapped object and placed it on the seat beside him. The train lurched gently as it began to leave the station. A gut instinct drew Rann to risk the wrath of what laid in the glass as he peered through the blinds, being careful to avoid seeing his own reflection. Sure enough, his gut was right. There, looming head and shoulders over the common folk by the entrance to the train station were a group of his fellow kin. By the time they learned where he was headed he would be long free from the confines of the capital, even they wouldn’t chase him to the ends of the world. Leaning back once more he felt his mind relax for the first time in years, sleep threatened to take him and for once he welcomed it openly. Just as he drifted between the waking world there came a knock at the door.
Half asleep, Rann bolted forward and drew his ceremonial kafka.
The short knife wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing. He blinked as he shook off the last of his confusion and sheathed his kafka before making for the door. He opened the sliding door and found himself staring at a short woman with round features and a warm smile dressed in the uniform of the imperial railway.
“I’m sorry to bother you sir, but I was wondering if you would be alright with sharing your cabin with another guest. The truth is it would seem that there was a booking error and somehow the same cabin was booked twice.”
This was probably the fault of the teller at the counter, in his attempts at buttering up Rann, he must have made some mistake. “I don’t mind sharing.” He said.
The small woman smiled broadly. “That’s wonderful to hear. I’ll let the madam know. Thank you again sir.” With a bow, the railway worker disappeared down the hall. Rann returned to his seat and got comfy once more, pulling his hat down over his eyes..
A few moments later the door opened. Rann lifted his hat to greet the person he would be sharing a cabin with only to freeze in place.
Before him stood a slender woman in a flowing blue dress, her skin looked like it was made of porcelain, she stared at Rann with stormy gray eyes as she brushed a loose strand of her light blue hair from her face.
The strange woman raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’ll be. I never thought I would be sharing a cabin with an Ono of all things.” She let out a slight chuckle as she closed the door behind her.
“Well, I feel the same way, miss. It isn’t every day one has the chance to meet an Invari.” Rann removed his hat to reveal his graying hair. “The name’s Rann. Pleasure to meet you.”
The young lady gave a slight curtsy. “Nice to meet you sir Rann, I am Cara.” She sat across from Rann. “So what brings you out west?” Rann shifted uncomfortably. Cara held a hand to her brow. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I was just trying to make small talk. Though I’m still getting the hang of it.”
Rann placed his hat on the seat beside him, covering the blighted thing that laid there. “No it’s not that. It's just, the reason I’m heading out west is a bit odd.”
“Well now I’m doubly curious. I’ve never heard of an odd Ono before. I promise not to laugh.”
Tapping his leg, Rann sighed. “I decided to retire.”
“Wait! You can do that!? I thought Ono were bred to serve for life. Only stopping when they give their lives for the Gods, or when they choose to die in honorable combat.” She blurted out.
Rann gave a weak grin. “As far as the records show, I am the first to request the opportunity to retire. At least, officially speaking.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out the document, handing it to Cara. “Have a look if you don’t believe me.”
The young Invari took the document and began to read its contents. Her eyes grew wide. “You’ve served for seven hundred and twelve years?! No wonder you wanted to retire.” Cara handed back the document. “Well, it sounds to me like you deserve a break.”
As Rann grabbed the document he paused, running his thumb over the warm paper. He smiled broadly. “I wasn’t awake for the whole seven hundred years. I spent quite a bit of that time in suspension. I thought I would give my life in service to the Gods, but that didn’t pan out.” His voice trailed off as he cast his gaze downwards.
Cara grew quiet. “Did something happen?”
Rann cleared his throat. “My body didn’t handle my last suspension well. Cellular degeneration did a number. The Genesmith’s gave me two to five years until I pass from organ failure. So I figured what the heck, I’m already a deadman, what’s the harm in going out there and seeing a bit of the world I spent the better part of a millennium protecting before I die.” He slowly looked up, afraid that he would see the look of pity that he had seen so many times over the last month.
Instead he saw a slight bittersweet smile cross Cara’s face.
“The Gods can be quite cruel.” Cara whispered.
Before she could say more, Rann slapped his thigh lightly. “Well, such is the life of an old beast like me. How about yourself miss, what brings you out west? I had always heard that you Invari rarely leave your groves.”
Cara’s expression seemed to soften as she leaned back in her seat. “It’s true that we prefer the privacy of our forests. But we still have needs, and from time to time we must venture out for goods and the like.” She paused for a moment, seemingly caught up in her own memories. “If I may be blunt, I’m surprised you are even talking to me in the first place sir Rann. When I saw that the person I was going to share a cabin with was an Ono, I half expected you to strike me down for being a heretic.”
Rann chuckled. “Some of my kin might have reacted… poorly to seeing an Invari, but I for one don’t really feel strongly about your-” He struggled to find the right word that wouldn’t be rude.
“There’s no need to be bashful sir Rann, we turned our back on the Gods that made us and chose to abandon our faith.” Cara said casually.
“Yes, well, I am sure you had your reasons. Regardless, I don’t feel like it’s my place to judge. If anything, maybe I envy your kind.” Rann reached absentmindedly for his kafka.
“I never thought I would see the day where an Ono would stand up for me and my people.” She reached up and touched her necklace with her hand. “For what it's worth, many of us still hold the Celestial’s in high regards. But when we first found this world, we found our true calling…”
“Tending to the Faelands is a noble endeavor, I can only imagine the wonders you must see living with and communing with the spirits of the land.” Rann said softly.
He watched Cara’s face closely, trying to see if his gut was right.
After a long moment Cara took a breath and returned to her cheery demeanor. “Enough of this drab talk! We should be celebrating the adventures we are about to undertake, not dwelling on the past.” She stood and reached for the shutters. “Perhaps some sunlight will help.”
Rann watched in horror as the shutters opened, in that moment he almost caught his macabre reflection out of the corner of his eye before he turned his head away.
“Sir Rann! Are you alright?”
“I’m alright. I-I-I just have a thing about seeing myself in mirrors. An old Ono superstition.”
It was a good thing he had thought ahead of a likely sounding excuse. Most people knew that his kind had a plethora of rites and traditions that seemed outlandish and nonsensical, it made for a good way to avoid an uncomfortable subject.
Lowering the shutters again, Cara sat down once more. “I am so sorry, I didn’t know.”
Rann allowed himself to untwist his neck, the muscles in his neck and shoulder screaming in protest at his sudden movement. He took a breath and focused on the agitated muscles, with a gentle coaxing from his divine gift, he caused the affected tissue to rapidly tear and mend itself until the fibers were repaired. Rolling his neck he found the pain and discomfort gone. “No harm done miss, I should have said something sooner.” Rann said.
The next few hours were spent making small talk, sharing stories of the sights they had both seen over their lives. Rann was captivated by Cara’s stories about the Faelands, the place sounded like it was torn straight from the pages of a fairy tale. The Invari were a peaceful people that valued natural order above all else, originally they had been made to survive in the coldest and harshest of planets. When the Celestial court first made landfall, they sent the Invari as diplomats to the native spirits of these lands. Through their efforts, the spirits granted the vast majority of the continent to the Court and its people, while ensuring that the spirits native homelands were given protective status. The Invari then shocked the Gods by renouncing their faith and choosing to dwell in the lush forests and glades in the heart of the Faelands among the spirits.
Many of the most faithful in the Empire still viewed their choice as a traitorous act, some still called for the extermination of the Invari as heretics in the eyes of the Gods. Though despite all of the shouting and calls for violence, none have ever had the resolve to enter those wild and untamed lands. Lest they be turned into monstrosities by the whims of the spirits.
Rann for his part spoke of his long years of service, the sights he had seen while being stationed in every corner of the Empire, the people he had met, and those he had had the honor of serving alongside. While he was sworn to secrecy on many aspects, he could at least share the more mundane things he had witnessed.
After talking for a long while, the conversation naturally slowed until both Rann and Cara looked ready for some rest. It would still be a few more hours until they came to the next station and Rann would have to switch trains. Rann covered his face with his hat as he leaned back and let the gentle rocking of the train lull him to sleep as he waited for what was to come.
◆◆◆
Cara grew still as she watched with closed eyes. When it seemed that the old mutt was asleep, she opened her eyes and watched for a bit longer to be sure. She made no sound as she stood up and moved towards the sleeping cur. Raising her arm in the air, the flesh and bone of her forearm twisted and deformed like melting plastic until it shaped itself into a wickedly sharp blade.
She held still for a long moment, waiting to see any signs that the filth before her would stir. When none came, she braced herself for the killing blow, swallowing the lump in her throat as her heart began to pound loudly in her ears.
“Do it.” Cara nearly let her whole form slip as she heard Rann speak. His voice was quiet and solemn, barely a whisper escaping his lips.
Eyes darting around the room, Cara licked her lips. “How long have you known?”
“When I grabbed my retirement letter from you.”
“Wait, you’ve known this whole time? How?” Cara hissed. “This form was perfect! I spent months among the Invari to learn this face inside and out.” In a moment of frustration Cara grabbed the blue necklace from her neck and ripped it off, tossing the hunk of useless metal to the floor.
Sighing, Rann continued in his resigned tone. “The paper was dry.” While Cara tried to understand his meaning, he explained further. “The ice in their veins causes condensation to accumulate on their skin in warmer climates. You must have lived amongst them in a colder environment where that wouldn’t have been an issue.”
Cara took a step back. “Why did you continue for so long if you already knew I was an imposter?”
Rann reached up and moved his hat up, looking up at Cara with those damned yellow eyes. Something about the vertical slits of his irises sent a shiver of fear down her spine. Even as he sat slouched and still he radiated an aura that made it clear that he could kill her in an instant if he wanted to. “Simple. I enjoyed talking with you.” He said plainly. “Now, you came here to kill me, yes? After everything I’ve done to your people, I won’t resist.”
“It amused you? I was merely a joke to you?” Cara felt her face grow hot as her focus slipped, her shape reverting back to her true form. She watched in frustration as the cruel old man showed no emotion at her true form, she reached a hand to the bone ridges that plated her forehead.
No, it wasn’t a lack of emotion he showed, it was pity. Cara lurched forward and drove her bladed arm towards Rann’s head, she let the blade run along the man’s cheek as it bit into the headrest of the chair he sat in. She wanted to see the fear in his eyes, to make him suffer like her people had at his hands. But Rann did not blink, he did not move, he merely stared into her eyes with a profound sorrow.
The cut on Rann’s cheek poured a streak of blood down his cheek. “It’s okay. If killing me can help heal your heart, then I am ready. This isn’t the first time one of your kin has come after me.” His voice was weak, a hint of pleading tainted his graveled tone.
Cara retracted her blade. “You want to die, don’t you?” As she looked into the broken man’s eyes, she realized that he was already as good as dead. The fire that burned inside her for years began to falter at the sight of the once feared butcher turned feeble old man. She had dreamed of making the man responsible for hunting her kind down plead for his life, she wanted him to beg for mercy before she struck him down. But something shifted deep in the subconscious of her mind, like someone gently tugging at her brain with surgical precision.
She slowly made for the door, her shape changing into an average woman of no worthwhile description.
As she reached for the handle, Rann whispered aloud once more. “I’m sorry.” The thing that had been Cara until a moment ago couldn’t help but feel hollow as she opened the door and left without looking back.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Rann sighed as the wound on his cheek reknit itself until there was no trace. He let his gaze fall to the broken necklace on the ground. “Maybe next time…” He muttered to himself before pulling his hat back over his eyes once more.
◆◆◆
The train pulled into the station as Rann readied his belongings, he made his way off of the train and towards the waiting locomotive that would bring him into the heart of the Shattered coast. His weary mind tried to glance around and take note of where he was, but after the ordeal he had gone through everything just seemed a blurry mess. With one last look he scanned the crowd, in the distance a woman in a blue dress walked away, only to be lost in the crowd once more.
Rann approached a ticket inspector and offered the man his ticket. The inspector was an older bespectacled man, and after a moment he handed back his ticket and looked up at Rann with a smile as he adjusted his glasses. Rann narrowed his eyes as he saw his reflection in the man’s glasses. He saw himself covered in the blood and gore of his victims, his singed armor covered in blackened hand prints and deep claw marks, a grim reminder of the innocent lives that he had put to the torch in the name of his Gods. Worst of all, he saw the figure standing behind his reflection, its glowing eyes that shined with every color and spectrum of light; the primordial force of Chaos stared at him with an unblinking gaze that caused Rann’s stomach to retch.
The inspector shifted his glasses once more as he nodded for Rann to continue onto the train, freeing Rann from his daze as he struggled to steady his breath. He hurried on the train and after finding a quiet place to sit, Rann placed his head into his hands as he choked back the tears that would not stop. Hiding his shame with his hat as he silently prayed. It won’t be long now. He thought to himself. You’ll have your pound of flesh in due time.
Rann managed to calm himself down enough to have a look around his surroundings after a few minutes. The train he found himself on now paled in comparison to the one he had ridden earlier. Gone were the individual cabins, replaced by just rows of seats that faced each other in pairs. The lack of first class seating meant that nobles had to sit in the same train car as the working class. Rann was surprised by how many finely dressed men and women made up the occupants of the car. Perhaps it was a fad to venture out to the wastelands, or more likely they were going to be disembarking before the Shattered coast.
Rann reached up and closed the shutters of the window he sat next to, he couldn’t do much about the dozen other such windows, but at least he would have a small reprieve. With a careful glance he saw that the terrain outside was still the beautiful hills and meadows of the south, it wouldn’t be long until such sights were a distant memory.
The other downside of not having a cabin was that now Rann had to deal with the stares of the other passengers. Even with his long coat and hat he stood out like a sore thumb, if someone caught a glimpse at his eyes he wouldn’t hear the end of it. He would be accosted by noble men and women who saw him as a novelty for their entertainment. Gods help him if anyone caught a glimpse of the accursed thing on his waist. For now it seemed as though his imposing nature was doing well enough at keeping the curious at bay-
A loud crash caused Rann to look up. A woman was making her way down the aisle of the train car, stumbling over her own feet as she drunkenly wobbled back and forth with a bottle of liquor in one hand. A nobleman made some snide remark and was met with a bletch in the face as a retort, the hairs on his face curling as they were singed. The strange woman made her way down the aisle until much to Rann’s dismay, she came to fall across the seats that faced his own. The woman's white button up shirt was a wrinkled mess covered in a myriad of stains and burn marks, her pants seemed too large for her slim frame as they were held up by a lone suspender pulled over the wrong shoulder. More confusing to Rann was that this woman had dark marbled skin; the hallmark of the Trest. Curious; as amongst the many children of the Gods, they were heralded as being the most traditional and upstanding amongst the children of the Gods, aside from the Ono anyways.
The slumped woman held herself up by an elbow and grabbed her short wavy hair, revealing a red handprint on her cheek. “I’m gonna be sick.” She muttered, her speech slurred. Before Rann could respond the odd woman retched in her mouth, freezing for a moment before swallowing again. “Tastes even better going down the second time.” She scoffed.
Rann watched in bewilderment as the drunken Trest held out a hand towards him. With a great deal of confusion he asked her. “Can I help you?”
“Pillow.” She demanded.
Placing a hand on his forehead, Rann grabbed a nearby cushion and passed it to the belligerent woman who took it without a word of thanks. She laid her head on the pillow and winced as it touched her injured cheek. As Rann wondered what had caused her to be slapped the woman grumbled aloud. “If you didn’t want your misses to fool around you should have treated her better. Jackass.” Without another word the cantankerous woman began to snore loudly, clutching her bottle of booze like a newborn.
Rann took a moment to grab a blanket from a nearby cubby and covered the sleeping Trest. Her snoring seemed loud enough to raise the dead. It was at times like this that Rann was glad he had been taught meditation by his mentor.
The hours passed by as Rann struggled to find inner peace. A staff member of the train placed a careful hand on Rann’s shoulder to get his attention, they were making their way down the aisle passing out dinner trays. Rann attempted to wake the drooling woman but she was still deep in her self induced coma. He grabbed them both a meal and began to eat his own. While the meat wasn’t fresh by his peoples standards, he still appreciated the savory taste of the much needed meal.
The scenery outside had changed dramatically, gone were the rolling hills of green and gold, in their place were the vast flat wastes of the Shattered coast. The transition had not been gradual, the outskirts of the wasteland was a perfect radius, the cause of which still baffled researchers to this day. The story goes that one day the land was engulfed in an inferno of light that scorched the very soul of the world, leaving a barren desert in its place. The ancestral home of the Ventus and the majority of their population disappeared overnight. Now it was a place where people could go to be forgotten by the world, not like the exile of Riftwarden in the north, but a quiet place where one could live out their life in peace if they were tough enough to scrape by.
Rann’s thoughts were interrupted by a gunshot that caused his head to snap to attention. He had been so engrossed in his morbid fantasy that he hadn’t noticed a group of masked figures entering the train car. Each of the bandits wore long dusters and wide brim hats, bandanas were pulled over their mouth to conceal their faces. A man in brown leather held the smoking revolver that was still pointed towards the sky as he looked over the startled and panicked crowd. The man had a pair of curled horns that protruded from holes in his hat, speaking to his cursed bloodline. First the Invari imposter and now a Wyrmblood bandit. I knew the frontier would be interesting but this was unexpected. Rann thought to himself with a mild smirk.
“If I may have your attention please.” The Wyrmblood said in a smooth drawl. “We have come to relieve you of some of your worldly possessions so that you might share some of your bountiful wealth with those less fortunate than yourselves. My associates will now come to collect your gracious donations, I would suggest none of you try and be a hero, lest you find out just how long of a trek it is back to civilization.”
The other masked figures began to move down the aisle until one of them stopped and met the eyes of Rann. “Boss! There’s an Ono!” The bandits and the passengers grew still as they each looked back at Rann, who was still taking idle bites from his food.
The tension in the air grew to a fever pitch as the bandits glanced nervously at their leader. Who to his credit calmly walked down the aisle towards Rann. He gestured to a free spot next to the drunken Trest. “May I?” Rann nodded as he wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin. The man took a seat and removed his hat, revealing his eyes that burned like dying coals in a winter's hearth. He leaned close so his voice wouldn't carry. “We find ourselves in quite the volatile situation, sir…?”
“Rann.”
“Sir Rann, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. The names Alexei Darkwater. Now, I have no doubt you could kill myself and every one of my men without so much as breaking a sweat. But, that would put a lot of innocent folks at risk.” He said.
“That it would.” Rann replied as he scraped one last spoonful of broth into his mouth.
Alexei nodded slowly as he placed his elbows on his knees. “We just want the valuables, that’s all.”
Rann reached down to his waist and grabbed the thing he hated most in the world. As he moved he saw a bead of sweat run down Alexei’s forehead. Even bundled and wrapped as it was, it seemed that the bandit knew just what the object was. Rann held it outwards so that the sheath was pointed at the floor. “You’re in luck. As of this morning I am retired. Therefore I have no right to enforce the laws of the Empire on you or your men.” Alexei seemed to let out a shuddering breath as he relaxed. “But, if anyone spills a single drop of blood, then I will be forced to action by my oaths.”
The horned man gulped as he stared at Rann. “You have my word that no harm will come to anyone.”
With that, Rann leaned back and crossed his arms. The sheathed thing stayed frozen in place where he left it, hovering above the floor by an inch. A stark reminder of what would happen if the bandit broke his word.
Alexei stood up and put his hat back on, tipping the brim to Rann. As he turned back he raised his voice. “I give you all my word that no one will be harmed. We don’t want your lives, just your valuables.” A few amongst the crowd cried out in despair, hurling insults at Rann for his cowardice.
It didn’t take long for the bandits to make their way up and down the aisle, they seemed to only take a single thing from everyone aboard. An odd choice that Rann watched with curiosity. A few of the others went into the back towards the storage car. Just as Rann began to think this would end peacefully he heard one of the bandits scream in pain. The young man was holding his hand where a steak knife had been driven clean through his palm. The perpetrator was a befuddled man that seemed just as shocked as the bandit. Fumbling to grab his holstered revolver with one hand the bandit dropped it to the ground along with the leather holster. Seeing the bandit reach for his weapon the nobleman drew a sword and tried to attack the injured bandit, but in a moment of panic was struck in the face by the wounded man. As the noble fell backwards, he reached up to his nose, pulling his hand back to find a streak of crimson.
Alexei stopped in his tracks. “Oh fuck.” He muttered as Rann stood up from his seat.
Dread filled Alexei’s stomach as he watched the grizzled man in the back stand to his full height, he seemed to grow in stature as his tan coat struggled to contain his torso. Alexei looked at Thomas who was still holding his injured hand and tried to yell for him to run. But before the words could escape his lips he watched in horror as the Ono leapt across the train car in a single bound, delivering a kick to Thomas that sent the kid hurtling like a ragdoll towards Alexei.
Alexei tried to stop what was coming, but it was too late. The others were scared and green, they pulled out their revolvers and fired blindly at the hulking figure, causing the car to explode with screams as the other passengers hit the deck. A few of the bullets found their target, only to fall to the floor a moment later leaving burnt holes in the Ono’s clothing.
Casting a glance to a half eaten dinner, Alexei saw the remains of a Thistle Boar steak. Great, now he’s bullet proof. Thinking fast, Alexei pulled out his lighter and flicked the flint. He drew on the power of his cursed blood to amplify the flames, a roaring ball of fire blasted out towards the approaching Ono, slowing him momentarily as the beast’s eyes grew wide. “Grab Thomas! We need to leave now!” Alexei screamed to the others.
Rann ducked into one of the seat alcoves for cover. Alexei used the opportunity to dive behind one of the other seats along with Magie. The two of them shared a look as Alexei peered around. They needed to buy time for the others to get out. “Rann! Sir! This wasn’t part of the plan! Thomas made a mistake, he was only defending himself!” There was no answer. An Ono could never break their oath, there was no stopping the beast now.
Across the aisle was Garnt and Vera, both leaning against a wooden partition with their backs. Garnt snuck a glance and looked puzzled. He turned to Alexei. “Boss, he grabbed Thomas’ holster, but he left the gun. What in the hells is he doing?”
Alexei tried to understand why Rann was not simply using the revolver. Then it dawned on him. “Garnt! Vera! Get away from that partition!” His warning came too late as a half dozen spines of metal crashed through the wooden partition, impaling Garnt and Vera through their backs.
Grabbing Magie, Alexei rolled forward as more spines splintered through the wood where he had been leaning but a moment ago. Magie cried out. “What was that!?”
“Thomas’s holster was made from Stealquill leather.”Alexei said. He turned to look back to see Rann leaping towards him. The Ono still had a dozen metal quills protruding from his arm. Alexei rolled on his back and flicked his lighter once more, but Rann was faster. He struck the lighter out of Alexei’s hand with a kick. Rann raised his hand as the sheathed weapon flew into its master's hand without hesitation, he struck down towards Alexei’s throat with the tip, halting a fraction of an inch from connecting as a voice rang out from further down the train.
“Don’t move or the woman dies!” Alexei looked past the looming warrior and saw Curtis holding his gun to an unconscious Trest woman's head. Curtis held the slumped woman upright as he nervously looked at Alexei. Rann sighed as he raised his hands slightly.
Taking the opportunity, Alexei scrambled to his feet and checked on Garnt and Vera. While the wounds looked terrible, they had actually missed any vital spots. He used his lighter to ignite a thin flame, super heating it with his power so he could cut the quills. With a nod he motioned for the others to grab the wounded and make their way up the train. The job had gone to shit and Alexei wanted to get going while he still drew breath.
Alexei turned back to Curtis and nodded as he closed the door to the upper half of the train. Curtis returned the nod with a resigned look. Once the door was shut, Alexei welded the frame to try and slow down any pursuers. Of all the things to go wrong, why was there an Ono of all things?
Rann watched the gunman for his chance to strike. He just needed the boy to falter for a moment and he could disarm him. The young man seemed to be struggling to support the limp form of the sleeping Trest, who was still remarkably holding her prized bottle in hand. Just as Rann was thinking to himself about the absurdity of the woman’s ability to sleep through all of the commotion the woman pressed the bottle to her lips, a cascade of rich amber liquid pouring down her chin. With a drunken stupor she mumbled. “Just five more minutes.” As she laid her free hand on the gun against her head the weapon began to glow, the metal of the gun turned cherry red as the gunman cried out in pain. The molten remains of the revolver fell to the ground, scorching the carpet as it burned a hole in the floorboards.
Not wanting to waste his chance, Rann simply let go of his wrapped weapon. The object casually defied the laws of physics as it held its position in space relative to the planet. The train and everyone aboard however continued forward. With a yelp of surprise the gunman collided with the immovable object and was carried backwards by the relative momentum. The force knocked the man out cold, and with a nudge of his mind, Rann recalled the cursed thing back to his hand before it crushed the man to death.
From the corner of his eye Rann saw a vehicle break away from the side of the train, the hovering hunk of scrap kicked up a massive dust cloud as it made a tight turn and sped off into the distance. A moment later a second vehicle made its escape from further down the train. The passengers began poking their heads up one by one, most looked relieved, while others looked furious. Rann watched the retreating bandits, a part of him screamed at him to pursue, another demanded he grab his rifle from his luggage and deliver justice to those in need. The tactical part of his mind did a quick assessment of how likely he was to make the shot, it wouldn’t have been hard. But still he stayed his hand, there was no honor in such an act, plus, he had achieved his goal of protecting the passengers.
A noise drew Rann’s attention. The nobleman that had drawn his blade earlier made his way towards the unconscious gunmen, he held his short sword with white knuckled rage, while his other hand held a handkerchief to his bloody nose. Rann clicked his tongue as he prepared to halt the man; however to his surprise the Trest woman was the first to interfere. Despite her slumped form, she shot the man a stern look. “The kids already beat. I suggest you turn around and place your haughty ass back in your seat.”
With a frustrated grunt the noble pointed his blade towards the woman. “Or what? Do you have any idea who I am?”
“You my friend, are the dumbass who's one second away from having his arm torn off by a certain retired Ono.” She nodded towards Rann who was now standing behind the armed man. “Last I checked, he made an oath that if anyone spilled blood, he would make them pay. And unless I was hallucinating, you were the one that drew first blood. Sir.” There was a wide smirk on the woman's face as she grinned at Rann.
Blood drained from the man’s face as he turned to face the looming Rann. He dropped his blade as he took a step back. “I… I was only defending myself.” He thrust his finger into Rann’s sternum. “None of this would have happened if you had done your duty! Some protector you are! What use is a guard dog that sits by and watches his wards be attacked!?” He shrieked.
Others behind Rann chimed in, adding their own accusations in kind. Rann stared at the man with pity, had he been younger he might have risen to the childish outburst. But as he was now, he just felt saddened by the man’s lack of awareness. Without a word he moved past the noble, whose face had turned bright red from his shouting. Rann offered a hand to the Trest woman, who took it with a smile as she slumped against him. “Just how much did you have to drink?”
“Eh, this isn’t even that bad. You should have seen me after my divorce.”
Rann shook his head as he helped her back to her seat. “I’m surprised the Empire has any alcohol left.” He moved the unconscious man to the seat beside the Trest woman. A quick check showed no major injuries or internal bleeding, the kid would be fine. Though he would probably spend the rest of his life imprisoned.
A few of the most outspoken passengers were still squawking at Rann, demanding that he hand over the young man to be punished. From the front of the train came a knocking from the otherside of the welded door; no doubt the train staff were shaken by the arrival of the bandits and were fearing the worst. Rann looked at the assembled fools, his eyes falling on a woman’s fur coat. “Is that a bear pelt?” Excuse me for a moment.” He said as he reached out and pulled a tuff of the fur off of the coat.
Before the woman could process what had happened, Rann placed the fur in his mouth and swallowed it. He felt the fur move down his esophagus, tensing slightly so that it traveled to his secondary stomach. In a moment his specialized organs broke down the fur, absorbing the DNA that laid within. A series of metabolic systems in his body responded to the new genetic information and began work reknitting his own body to match.
While the assembled passengers watched in confusion, Rann’s body began to shift and warp, their bewilderment quickly turning to panic at the sight. Bones snapped and grew back stronger, muscle fiber exploded in density and mass, a thick layer of fur covered Rann’s body from head to toe. His teeth fell out and were replaced by massive fangs. Where once a man stood, now stood a monstrosity.
A hush fell over the train car as the passengers once again hurried to hide. Rann walked with long strides towards the sealed door. With a savage roar he grabbed the doors frame with his new found claws and pulled. The floorboards beneath him groaned in protest as he ripped the whole door from its jamb, casting the warped metal behind him. The crew of the train screamed at the sight of Rann as they backed away from the monster they were sure was sent straight from the abyss to kill them. With a deep breath, Rann’s body shrank back to its usual stature. The excess mass he had used was reabsorbed once more into the occult organs that gave him his strength.
Not wanting to explain, Rann returned to his seat without another word. Where he saw the wicked grin of the Trest woman. “Subtle.” She said sarcastically. Rann merely shrugged in response as he pulled out the last of his fangs.
The rest of the journey was quiet all in all. At the next station the train was held while statements were taken, the gunman was handed over to the local lawmen for prosecution. The train had to undergo a thorough audit to determine what was stolen. In addition to the jewels and money, it turned out that the bandits had made off with some medical supplies from the cargo hold. The majority of the passengers disembarked here as this was the last proper city of the Empire, from here on out they were entering the Shattered coast proper. Gone were the pleasantries and hold overs of the old world, all who remained here were the few that were stubborn or tough enough to eke out something akin to a life.
A perfect place for Rann to disappear.
One of the inspectors shuffled awkwardly as he tried to clear his throat. “In your… expert opinion why do you think these bandits stole so little?” His tone was such that it sounded both like a question and idle musing. Perhaps he was afraid to seem incompetent in front of an Ono.
Rann shrugged. “No idea.” He lied.
The inspector nodded sagely. “Sometimes you just can’t make sense of criminal scum.” He said nonplussed as he moved towards the sleeping Trest woman to try and coax her to answer some questions.
With a wave and a salute Rann was left to return to the train and to his surprise the Trest woman stumbled back to the seat opposite himself.
Where she promptly fell back to sleep.
The rest of the train ride was spent mostly in blissful silence as the earlier commotion seemed to have helped with the woman’s snoring. When they arrived at the end of the line, they both made their way off the train into the desert night. A shiver ran down Rann’s spine as he looked at his surroundings. The train station was in the middle of nowhere, though it wasn’t for lack of trying, this was just the furthest a train could travel safely. This close to the coastline the sand of the desert was mostly glass, it made it impossible to maintain train tracks beyond this point. The further one traveled into the coast, the larger the glass shards grew.
Most folks that disembarked had someone waiting to give them a ride back to their settlement or town. Many rode on lizard back, some had vehicles that could hover just above the glass, a few walked on the glass itself with special boots. Rann scanned the station for the person he had been told to meet, but there was no sign of anyone. He couldn’t blame them, the train had been delayed by hours because of the bandits.
The Trest woman stood beside Rann, unphased by the cold. “You got somewhere to stay?” She asked.
Rann sighed. “I’m renting a room in a town called Sweetriver, though I have no idea where that is.”
With a sharp laugh the small woman slapped Rann on the shoulder. “You’re in luck! That’s where I’m heading.” She started to walk towards the desert. “Follow me.”
Before Rann could question her further he watched in shock as the strange woman took a swig from a flask that she pulled from her pants, taking a moment to remove her boots she began walking into the sand. Each step caused a loud crunch as the glass shattered beneath her feet that now glowed with a reddish hue. Rann knew a bit of Trest biology and the gifts they had been granted by the Gods, but this seemed different to what he had learned.
That left Rann with the uncomfortable task of following his new guide through an ocean of glass. With a deep breath he reduced his bone density and muscle mass as much as he could, reducing his weight considerably. His coat hung loose from his now lean frame. All that was left was to follow the path that the Trest woman was forging. Carefully, one step at a time, Rann placed his feet in the spots where his guide had shattered the protruding glass. It was a tiring task, one wrong step and he would be impaled a dozen times over.
As they walked under the looming moon the pair enjoyed the comfortable silence. That was until the Trest woman spat a flaming ball into the sand as a means of clearing her throat. “So why did you lie to those lawmen back at the last station?” She asked casually.
Rann raised an eyebrow as he paused his treacherous balancing act. “What makes you think I was lying?”
“Because you have a terrible poker face. You Ono can’t lie for shit. No offense.”
With a grunt Rann continued his careful steps. “Does it matter? They got away.”
The woman stopped to turn and face Rann. “Your kind don’t just let people go.” There was a hardness to her voice, a history.
Standing there face to face, Rann sighed. “You really wanna know?” The continued stare from the woman gave him all the answer he needed. “Because they weren’t there to rob those folks, that was just a cover.”
“What?” The woman’s face creased with indignation. “You saw them rob those folks, they stole their jewels and money.”
“They took only a single item from each person, not only that but they didn’t even make sure they took the most valuable stuff. Only what would be covered by the railway’s insurance. That tells me a couple things, either they didn’t know what they were doing, or-”
“Or they didn’t care about the jewels and crap!” Just as quickly as she understood the woman’s face quickly fell. “Then what was the point?”
Rann tapped his nose. “They needed the medical supplies in the cargo hold. Each of those kids was half starved and reeked of antiseptic spray and the stench of infection. The gold and such was a cover, for whatever reason they needed to seem like bloodthirsty bandits.”
The pair began walking again as they spoke idly. The woman crossed her arms as she tried to fit the pieces together. “I thought it was odd what with that boy holding me hostage with a gun that only had empty casings in it. Now it makes more sense, they only had a couple bullets in the first place.”
“What was I supposed to do, send a bunch of lawmen to raid what seems to be a group of young adults taking care of sick folks? Can’t say that would have sat well with me.” Rann said, his voice trailing off. The two grew silent once more as they both lost themselves in thought.
They walked for another three hours until Rann saw a small settlement on the horizon, they had continued walking through the night pausing only for the woman to take sporadic swigs from her flask from time to time. The sky was growing brighter as they finally reached safety.
The settlement had been built on a large plateau of rock, granting a small bit of protection from the ever growing glass. Two dozen buildings made up the whole of the town, the largest being a tavern of some sort. A sign hung from its doorway, ‘The Oasis’. Rann scoffed, he had found the building he would be staying at.
The Trest woman wasted no time entering the tavern despite the early hour. Rann followed suit, unsure of how best to proceed. Inside, the Oasis was the picture of frontier living. A simple wooden structure, old furniture that had each been repaired a dozen times over; it radiated with character that Rann found refreshing.
As Rann walked inside, he saw the Trest woman slide over the bar's counter in a well practiced motion. She seemed to be fixated on continuing her self medicated bender. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey and reached for the cork; only to find the barrel of a shotgun prodding her in the temple.
“What have I told you about pinching my good liquor Morgan?” The voice belonged to what Rann assumed was the owner. A human woman in her early forties with her brown hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She wore a well worn dress and a stained apron.
Morgan muttered to herself as she placed the whiskey bottle down. “And this is why you’re single, Evelyn.”
“If I want dating advice from you, I’ll ask. Now-” Evelyn said while putting the shotgun down. “Who might you be stranger?” She asked as she moved a strand of hair from her tanned face.
Rann put his hand on his hat. “Forgive me for barging in, I was supposed to arrive last night but my train was delayed. My name is Rann, we exchanged letters in regards to the position for a town sheriff.” As he pulled his hat off he locked eyes with the owner of the tavern. Her expression quickly turned foul.
“If I had known you were an Ono, I wouldn’t have offered you the job.” Evelyn responded snidely. “We don’t want imperial deserters in our town-”
“I didn’t desert, I was granted the right to retire.”
Evelyn clicked her tongue as she turned to Morgan. “How could you bring this thing here?”
Morgan leaned on the counter. “I like him. He’s got balls.” She frowned. “Wait, do you have balls? I heard you Ono can’t breed.”
Rann tried to stifle a laugh. “Putting aside the subject of my genitalia, I came here to do a job and I promise you I will do it to the best of my abilities.”
After a long withering stare from Evelyn she cursed as she grabbed a set of keys from her apron pocket and tossed them to Rann. “We’ll see about that. Your room is upstairs, last on the right. Mine is across the hall if you need anything.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Rann cleared his throat. “Now. I was told I would have a deputy, they weren’t able to meet me at the station as planned but I was wondering what you can tell me about them?” Rann asked.
Evelyn smirked. “They are the laziest, drunkest, good for nothing horn-dog you will ever meet.”
Rann shifted his gaze slowly to Morgan. The disheveled woman smiled from ear to ear as she snuck a sip of whiskey. “Nice to meet you boss.”