The Wastelander

by Tipsy Wanderer

  The book had to be the demon’s relic.

  She picked up the book and unrolled the parchment to see its contents. Scrawled handwriting covered its surface, and when she read the words, the Queen’s face changed. Her hands curled into fists, and for ten minutes, she stood in contemplative silence. Then, using the tree trunks for support, she limped off.

  What she did not witness was that after she left, what remained of the demon began to transform. The bloody sheen dried up until the pieces were like rock. They dissolved into fragments of sand and blew away on the breeze, leaving nothing behind.

  Just then, standing atop the partly ruined Greenland Fort…

  Two figures stood side by side. One was a tall thin man with a pallid face, messy hair, and glasses. Physically, he seemed very ordinary, but his personality was that of a learned figure – cold and distant – very atypical in the wastelands. Beside him was a strange and savage figure, easily over six feet tall with burning red eyes. Their vision, far better than that of any normal human, tracked Cloudhawk as he slowly approached from the Oasis.

  Mantis spoke in his typical drab tone, “What do you think?”

  “My sand doppelganger has less than half the strength I possess, but I didn’t expect him to defeat it. Extraordinary, really.” The demon’s deep, echoing voice was filled with curiosity. “The boy has potential. It is no wonder he is the chosen one.”

  “You did not kill the demon hunter,” Mantis remarked. “Why?”

  “I find her interesting. There is much about her that is special – different from the others from the Elysian lands. She might serve as a malleable pawn, and if played properly, she could be quite useful.” He didn’t appear to mind the question. “In saving her life, we may eventually be pleasantly surprised. It will certainly make things more amusing. Of course, in your eyes, ancient one, this flourish is hardly noteworthy. You know, you are easily both the maddest and wisest man I’ve ever met. We should play this game together.”

  “Please don’t confuse me with your kind. We aren’t the same and neither is our purpose. If necessary, we would become enemies.”

  Mantis’s cold voice held nothing back, “He was able to sense your energy. If you don’t leave, you’ll be discovered.”

  A glint flashed in the demon’s eyes. “Just think about my offer.”

  93 The Queen's Gifts

  The sun’s gleaming light faded as the day waned, becoming a golden disc peeking over the horizon. Its luminescence dimmed as it fought through the haze of sand and grit in the air. As sunset kissed the outpost, its dying rays played over the remains of Greenland Fort. Bathed in the golden red hue, it looked especially noble.

  On one side of the ruins…

  The late hour stretched the shadows of tombstones long against the ground. A young man in tattered clothing bent over an unmarked grave and placed a flower at its base.

  Cloudhawk’s face and body were scabbed over. His ribs that were broken in the fight against the demon had been set. Although his condition was not a pleasant one, he would be fully recovered in three to five days or, at least recovered enough that it wouldn’t affect his moving around.

  But Artemis was dead. There was no changing that fact.

  Cloudhawk stood in silence before the grave for a long time, unsure of what to do next. Greenland Fort was finally free – there was no one to enslave them, no puppet at its helm. At last, Greenland Outpost belonged to its people. Only, Cloudhawk didn’t intend to stay.

  With Artemis’s death, Cloudhawk had no friends left here. More importantly, he found that Greenland Outpost wasn’t where he wanted to be. It was a flower blooming in a desert of evil, but the hearts of its people were twisted. Killing was their way of life, and even though Hydra was dead, another like him will surely take his place. The sweeper leader was dead, but they would inevitably install someone else to guide their massacres. The wastelands weren’t going to change in a day. It probably wasn’t going to change at all. Peace and safety wasn’t part of the fate of this cursed land.

  Cloudhawk made up his mind. He had to leave the wastelands, to follow the dream that had been carved in his spirit when he was a child.

  The sound of footsteps approached from behind. Cloudhawk didn’t need to turn his head to know who it was.

  She walked with both hands gripping a walking stick to support her weight. Her mask was missing, leaving her beautiful features exposed to the world: clear eyes, high nose bridge, small mouth, and elegant black hair that fell to her shoulders in a silken waterfall. Her shimmering tresses flitted with the breeze, lending her a luxurious air.

  Who could imagine that this seventeen-year-old girl, who looked barely able to withstand a stiff breeze, turned into the infamous Bloodsoaked Queen when she put that demon mask on?

  Her skin was as smooth and pristine as jade [1]. Maybe it was because she was weak, or maybe it was because of blood loss [2], but she was certainly paler than normal. The wrinkle in her brow spoke of nagging pain and melancholy.

  The effects of the panacea injection were still working throughout her body, but her wounds were serious and thus, the pains of recovery were even more difficult to endure. Even so, she hardly showed it on her face. Step by unstable step, she slowly approached where Cloudhawk was standing.

  When she drew near, Cloudhawk finally turned his head. She looked back at him, tranquil and bathed in dying light like she’d just stepped out of a painting. She seemed completely out of place among the gritty, crumbling ruins.

  She’d replaced her clothing with the crude and simple garb of the wastelands. Bandages covered her in a dozen places and outlined her curves. Cloudhawk wasn’t sure whether or not it was because the mask was missing, but that arrogant and domineering air didn’t seem to follow her around anymore.

  Cloudhawk turned back towards the unmarked grave. “What are you doing here?”

  Without the mask, her voice was clear and melodious. “Can’t I come pay my respects?”

  “You should be recovering.” Cloudhawk didn’t know what to say to her. She seemed different now as if the battle with the demon had affected her deeply. Or maybe, something else changed. She seemed more restrained and introverted now after surviving that catastrophic battle. The young demon hunter had experienced much. Perhaps, she’d grown up.

  The young woman looked at the mound, at Cloudhawk quietly standing over it. They stood close, but it felt like they were a thousand miles away from each other. “I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet voice.

  Cloudhawk didn’t think those words would ever come out of the Queen’s mouth. She really had changed – but was her apology a good thing or a bad thing?

  “Ah, there’s nothing to apologize for.” He sighed and stared off into the dimming horizon. “A lot of what happened came down to fate. The demon’s dead. You’ve avenged your father, and I’ve avenged Artemis, Slyfox, and the others. Yes, everything that’s happened was because of you… but it’s done.”

  The Bloodsoaked Queen was quiet for a few moments before she spoke again, “Are you preparing to leave the outpost?”

  “Yeah. Once I’m healed.” Cloudhawk nodded. “It’s not bad here, but in the end, it’s not where I should be. I’ve put it off too long because of all this. It’s time to hit the road.”

  “I have some things I want to give you.” It was then that he noticed the mask and several other items resting in her hands. She gave them all to him. “Please take them. They’ll help you.”

  She’s giving me gifts? Isn’t this her mask?

  He didn’t know what use the mask served, but he knew it was something the Queen kept on her at all times, so it had to be important. It seemed to be made out of some special material as well, for, despite all the many battles she faced in the wastelands, there wasn’t a scratch on it.

  Besides the mask, she also gave him a book with a pale yellow metal cover and a strange token.

  Cloudhawk looked at the book first. Its style seemed ancient, and its cover was engrav
ed with the scene of a vast desert. The closer he looked, the more it seemed like the scene was actually moving, like it was alive.

  It pulsed with powerful resonance. A relic, and judging by the energy it released, it was no less powerful than the Queen’s cross – it was maybe even stronger.

  The token had indecipherable script and symbols etched on the sides. He figured it was one of her personal items.

  “I’m sure you feel it. That book is called the Gospel of Sand. I took it from the demon’s corpse.”

  “Demons use relics?”

  “Demons were once the greatest enemies of the gods. Their powers used to be very similar. The relics that demon hunters employ were gifts from the gods, and in the same vein, demons created relics of their own. However, the way they use them is unique, employing different methods to seal them in their bodies. When we slew the demon, one of its relics was all that remained.”

  Cloudhawk furrowed his brow. “Only one? Where are the rest?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “Although it’s just a piece, it is a very famous and important relic. Ownership of it proves you’ve bested a demon.” She then pointed to the token. “As for that, it’s the token that identifies me as a demon hunter. It will allow you to travel through the territory of Skycloud without trouble, and it’s also my recommendation for you to meet the Governor.”

  Cloudhawk was at a loss. “Why would I want to meet him?”

  “The Governor of Skycloud is my uncle,” she said. “If you bring my token and that relic to him, it’ll prove you’ve killed a demon. I’m sure that with my uncle’s prestige and influence, and the fact that you’ve killed a demon, you could live the rest of your life in the Elysian lands and want for nothing. You said you were looking for a pure land without pain or conflict, right? That’s where you’ll find it.”

  Cloudhawk looked at the three items he held in his hands. He felt moved and grateful for her treasures.

  The Bloodsoaked Queen had made many mistakes, but to swallow her pride and say these things to Cloudhawk couldn’t have been easy.

  “What about this?”

  “That mask was made for me by my father. Don’t mistake it for a normal item. It’s also a relic.” She gently ran her hand along the hideous scowling demon mask, and in an instant, it became a white smiling face. In the space of the blink of an eye, it had transformed into an entirely different item. “This is my personal gift to you. For a friend. Sometimes, you rush things, and whether in battle or in social situations, this mask will help you avoid trouble. Take it.”

  It certainly was a special relic.

  Cloudhawk sensed that the Queen carried another relic, but it was unique somehow. The resonance from it was weak, too faint for Cloudhawk to pick it out before. This must have been what he was feeling!

  Most surprising of all was how different the Queen was now. The prideful woman he’d known was gone, and overnight, she had become someone else. He was speechless.

  He just stared at her. She looked away.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  He reached his hand out, as though to touch her to make sure she was real. “Are you really the Bloodsoaked Queen? Are you a copy or something?”

  Slap!

  Cloudhawk felt the sting on his hand, and he yanked it back. She hadn’t struck him lightly, and the back of his hand was already getting red and swollen. The embarrassment gave rise to irritation. “Why the hell did you hit me?!”

  She brandished her walking stick, suddenly very much like the old Queen. “We may be friends, but don’t think for a minute about getting physical with me! This time, it was a warning. Next time, I’ll snap your arm.”

  “Friend?!” Cloudhawk snapped back, “Is this how you treat your friends?!”

  She sniffed at him, spun on her heels, and left. However, she wasn’t nearly as rigid or stuffy as before, and the faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Cloudhawk didn’t bear her any grudges. In the year that she’d spent in the wastelands, meeting this kid was the one good thing that happened to her.

  Fraternizing with wastelanders was a serious violation of the demon hunter code, but she’d broken so many of their rules already. What was one more? In the past, such thoughts would have terrified her. However, after a year in the wastes, had her time here corrupted her will and soul?

  The Bloodsoaked Queen remained true to her faith. That went without question. Only, she wasn’t sure how to deal with her own heart.

  Cloudhawk sighed and rubbed his hand. He was at least sure of one thing – she was still the Bloodsoaked Queen. He turned back and looked down at the unmarked grave. “Artemis, rest easy. I’ll see you again someday.”

  1. Jade can come in a milky white color, another Chinese standard of beauty every woman desperately seeks to attain. My personal theory is that cases of anemia are high in China in part because anemic women are very pale and thus more highly sought after. In comparison, the rate of anemia in the US is ~10% and ~20% in China.

  2. See, he knows what I’m talking about

  94 Determined to Depart

  Concealed in the silent night, several large men gathered in a bar were conspiring. One of them was relatively smaller than the others but made up for it with a particularly cruel face. There was a flash of metal, a thud, and suddenly, a nasty-looking dagger was lodged in the table between them.

  “Brothers! It’s a fine opportunity!” His malicious, wolf-like eyes swept over the others. “Hydra is dead and so is that woman. There isn’t anyone left to lead, so chaos will soon follow. It’s finally our time!”

  Excitement gleamed in the other men’s faces. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, for with Hydra and his henchmen dead, who was left to oppose them?

  One of the men seemed less than convinced. “Ratscratch, boss, aren’t you forgetting the demon hunters? They killed a damn demon!”

  “Demon hunters? Pah!” Ratscratch’s response dripped with disdain. “The demon hunters won’t be here much longer. Now that the Caliph of the Sands is gone, I suspect they’ll be leaving the outpost sooner rather than later.”

  He wasn’t wrong. The demon hunters wouldn’t choose to live here, after all.

  Ratscratch’s beady eyes glinted with an ominous light. “But there’s no time to waste. We gotta take control of the fort as quickly as possible. I got eyes in the fort that tell me the demon hunters are wounded, so now’s our best chance to sneak in and put ‘em down.”

  The others stared at him, shocked. Attack the demon hunters? He was crazy! Demon hunters were immeasurably stronger than Hydra had been. It was suicide!

  Another one of Ratscratch’s subordinates chimed in, “We’ve all seen what the demon hunter can do. If she’s still got even a tenth of that power left, she can easily handle all of us. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Fuckwit! Why would we attack head-on? Poison, ambush, traps… we already gathered some toxic spores and made a powder. All we gotta do is to find a way to sneak into where they live and slip it in their water. Poison doesn’t give a shit how strong you are.” Ratscratch’s face twisted into a nasty expression. “We got hundreds of brothers and the fort’s in ruins. They don’t got enough people to keep it locked down. All we gotta do is kill two people, and the whole outpost is ours! Relax, it’s under control. Once our people do their jobs, we’re on the move.”

  The others were uncertain, even fearful, but it was hard for them to conceal their greed. When Ratscratch’s eyes swept over them, they were filled with awe.

  Ratscratch was a well-known figure in the outpost. Now that Hydra, Artemis, and Salamander were gone, there was almost no one to stand in his way. As for the demon hunter and – what, her apprentice? They were outsiders. They didn’t have any clout here. What did it matter if they were strong? Sometimes, in the wastelands, it was better to know how to fight dirty than to be strong.

  “Alright!”

  “We’re gonna beat the shit out of ‘em!”

&
nbsp; “I’m with you, boss!”

  Like gamblers, they were all in.

  If they could take the fort, it didn’t even matter if they couldn’t hold the whole outpost. If the territory split, they would, at the very least, be the major influence. Women, food, drinkable water – who would be there to stop them from carving the resources up for themselves?

  Ratscratch nodded his head in satisfaction and picked up his glass. “Relax, brothers. Win or lose, we do this together!”

  The simple cups clinched together in a toast, sending alcohol splashing.

  Now that the decision was made, Ratscratch began his preparations. None of his ambitious men were going to back away from an opportunity like this. Besides, Ratscratch was getting on in the years, and he didn’t want to throw away this precious chance. It was probably his last chance to turn things in his favor.

  If there was one thing the wastelands didn’t lack, it was scoundrels. Ratscratch wasn’t the only one with spies keeping an eye on the Greenland Outpost leadership. If he wanted to take it for himself, he had to be faster than them. The earlier he moved, the better.

  “Number two, get fifty men together and set ‘em up to ambush the fort. Number Three, get fifty men with crossbows to give ‘em cover. The rest of you are under my command. Once we get the signal, we’re on the move.”

  “You got it!”

  Everything rested on this operation!

  After deploying his lieutenants, Ratscratch started making arrangements. He was practically buzzing with fervor and excitement like he was in his twenties again. He was already fantasizing about life as leader of the outpost!

  But then, an intense sense of disquiet filled him.

  Ratscratch was near the bottom of the barrel when it came to the outpost’s elite, but he was a veteran of the wilderness. Due to his experience there, he had developed the instinct of a wild animal and had a nose for danger!