by Tyler Vance
He man started shaking, shuddering violently, and Sheikoh and Indigo whipped out their guns. But before they had a chance to shoot, the guide fell over. His face smacked the ground, and blood pooled out of his nose. Sheikoh and Indigo kept their weapons trained on the man, but he didn’t make a move.
They looked at one another uncertainly and then turned to gaze around the dilapidated street. Sheikoh quickly scanned the rooftops for a shooter, even though he’d already ruled out plasmafire or any other kind projectile weapon.
Was this some kind of trick?
Sheikoh glanced down at their fallen guide. Indigo had the same idea. The ganglord barred his teeth and shoved his assault rifle into the fallen man’s rib cage. Sheikoh saw Indigo’s trigger finger twitch, and he was sure that their guide was officially a dead man.
Only the assault rifle never sounded. Indigo just stood there, completely still. Unnaturally still. Sheikoh tried to bent to check their guide for clues, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move his body. Adrenaline slammed his heart into high gear.
The Arch Centaurai was here!
He was dead.
Chapter 9
The Renegade Celestial
Terror froze his bones and carved his insides to pieces. It was torture to be frozen. He wanted to scream. He wanted to move, to resist, to find some way to live. He didn’t want to die like this, frozen beneath the Arch Centaurai's threats and contempt. He couldn't.
Suddenly, Sheikoh went numb.
His entire being was made up of a pounding, racing heart. He felt the icy silver of the Centaurai’s crescent trace the nape of his neck. Memory of the cold silver blade against his throat felt as real as it had the first time. It began at his neck and then crept throughout his body like poisonous mist, spreading and growing until it’d invaded every crevice of his being with the knowledge that this was it; he was going to die.
Sheikoh closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Death is nothing to be afraid of,’ he whispered to himself. He tried to say it out loud, but his jaw didn’t deign to obey him. Still, he felt a tiny amelioration. Then regret as Sheikoh realized he’d lied to Dorothi. If he died here, she was alone. Sheikoh swallowed, his chest hollow. His last words were going to be the same as Emili’s.
I’m sorry...
Suddenly, his body lurched forward. Heart racing with terror, his and Indigo’s bodies lumbered across this house’s rotting porch. Primal fear sliced through the sadness blanketing his chest. He forced his eyes closed and felt his body stagger over half-rotting timbers. Then felt his hand lift itself up and push the door open.
He just hoped that it would be quick.
Chills raced down his spine. Sheikoh gathered his will and tried to force himself to come to a stop, but it was exactly like it’d been before; It was like he’d forgotten how to move. There was nothing to push against. It was like trying to move a cloud of smoke with his bare hands.
He opened his eyes and looked inside the house. His breath caught in his throat, and dread morphed into flickering surprise. His attention flickered backwards as Indigo’s limp wrist flick the door closed, and he staggered upon suddenly regaining control of his body. The ganglord stumbled as well.
When Indigo straightened up, Sheikoh shuddered at the ganglord’s black expression. He’d never seen hatred like that that burned in the ganglord’s eyes and twisted his face into a bestial snarl. Indigo stalked beside Sheikoh, fists white around the assault rifle he was still holding. Sheikoh could tell the ganglord was itching to use it. Their eyes combed the hazy, blue room for the person that’d molded their wills like putty.
Sheikoh's wide eyes glanced over everything inside the dancing, blue room. He sighed with relief when he realized that the Supreme Centaurai wasn’t in the room. The seemingly abandoned house’s interior spread out before the two above a floor of glossy, marble tiles. Comfortable-looking velvet armchairs cluttered the walking space around a gleaming mahogany table, whose surface tumbled and spiraled with intricately-carved, artistic designs that surrounded the circular rune burned black into the wood’s center. Cool, electric-blue fires flickered on solid silver braziers on the walls. He felt light headed watching the lights shimmer and flick off of the crystal chandelier. The room’s dancing, blue atmosphere felt like that of a half-remembered dream.
Two men sat at the table, looking at Sheikoh and Indigo. The one sitting at the right side of the table had a plain, shaved face and short, mousey hair. His eyes flickered between Sheikoh and Indigo underneath a clunky, white monocle helmet. The man was thoroughly boring looking. Sheikoh’d only glanced at him to find the source of the routinely clicking and revving that his giant monocle made. The guy wore a subdued, grey suit. After a cursory glance at him, Sheikoh turned his attention to the individual that sat at the head of the runed table.
Sheikoh instantly knew that this man was the Celestial. He just had a draconic, unbridled presence like a handful of electricity. The Celestial’s purple shirt was airy and its material seemed to float without wind. Deep purple and midnight blue silk runes weaved artfully through the partially see-through fabric. The shirt fell just below the waist. It reminded Sheikoh of the open button-down shirt fashion among many muscular factory workers, only the Celestial’s shirt was half closed by the elegant, jewel-speckled, silver belt winding around his waist.
The robe-shirt hung open from his throat to the top of the Celestial’s stomach, exposing a smooth, muscled chest and a coin-sized, sapphire medallion, spinning with intricately minute runes and designs. Sheikoh noticed a silken purple cloak resting on the back of the Celestial’s armchair. He could see a hood and a bunch of silver clasps and fine link chains, so he assumed that the magenta cloak added a layer to the outfit.
Silver, gem-studded rings and bracelets gloved the hand that the man rested on against the mahogany table and Sheikoh could see a diamond and ruby studded lifelike dragon adornment wound all the way up the Celestial’s forearm. Sheikoh tried to count the sapphires, diamonds, emeralds and rubies that twinkled with the shimmering blue light, but there was too many. He knew the outfit alone was worth more than he could ever steal in a lifetime. Sheikoh tore his eyes from the glittering jewelry and majestic outfit and looked into the face of what was likely the only Celestial he would ever see.
A tint of stubble shadowed the Celestial's high cheekbones and chin. His long grey-streaked, dirty blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail that crowned his head with thick, bristly hair. Four or five strands of bang hung from his forehead. One of the thin threads of hair streaked over one of the Celestial’s eyes, giving the older man a sense of intensity.
The Celestial’s ocean blue eyes that seemed to be simultaneously grave and calculating. Age and determination had gently crinkled thin lines into his pale skin, and, to Sheikoh at least, it seemed that the light lines of age all bent towards the deep furrows that orbited his murky blue irises, like they were caught in the event horizon of an infinite gravity.
The Celestial caught his attention again, motioning with a nod and a hand that he and Indigo should sit at the table with him and his companion. Sheikoh approached a little apprehensively. Indigo, however, strode up to the table with a challenging gait. The ganglord easily dragged the biggest armchair back with one hand. Its legs shrieked horribly across the marble tiles. Sheikoh noticed the Celestial wince at the harsh sound, as he slipped into a chair that was far from Indigo's.
He glanced over at Indigo. The ganglord had crossed his thick arms impatiently, but Sheikoh saw that Indigo’s fury had abated in the face of the man beside the Celestial. The black man’s face arranged itself into a stiff smile as he noddle at the other man. Sheikoh watched the exchange curiously. For someone like Indigo, that was like tackling the dude in a hug. He had a sneaking suspicion about who this might-
“Thank you for coming here today,” the Celestial started, interrupting Sheikoh’s conjecture, with a dramatic voice that seemed used to addressing larger crowds than the three people there. The Cele
stial’s words reverberated against the walls.
“Introductions are in order. Silence, I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting your esteemed colleague-” the Celestial began, gesturing to the man in the grey suit.
Sheikoh glanced at the other man, sure he’d guessed his identity. When he turned back to the Celestial, he caught him staring. The Celestial looked away quickly. Something about the Celestial’s gaze had felt... off...
“-The leader of the organization Legacy, the illustrious Ghost-”
Sheikoh had called it.
“Ghost!" Sheikoh squealed. "I’m like your biggest fan!” The Celestial narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “I’ve wanted your autograph since I was like two or something.”
Indigo gritted his teeth.
“Likewise, Sheikoh. Or do you prefer Silence?” Ghost responded calmly with the slightest emphasis on his real name.
Sheikoh heard the threat. He wondered who the leader of Legacy was threatening exactly. Him or…
A chill shuddered down his spine.
“Silence is fine, mate. Honestly though, I’m really glad to meet you,” Sheikoh smiled at the guy.
Ghost nodded without expression.
“You and me would make a great team. We totally have so much in common,” Sheikoh told Ghost with deadpan sincerity.
“Really? And what exactly do you that?” Ghost asked in a bored voice.
“We both spend all our time hiding from Legacy,” Sheikoh shot back through laughter. “Scared of your own ganglords, mate?”
Ghost raised an eyebrow and then turned back to the Celestial. Indigo leveled a steady glare at him.
“That was illuminating. Are you finished, then?” asked the Celestial coolly.
Sheikoh couldn’t help it. It was too perfect.
“Bet you practice that line on your wife,” he giggled under his breath.
The Celestial turned two ice-cold eyes back onto him, and Sheikoh stopped laughing at once. The Celestial’s gaze made him feel like an insect - small and insignificant.
Indigo and Ghost eyed him as well, awestruck with contempt.
Nice. Sheikoh had pissed off the one guy in the room that could freaking make him eat his own insides. If he survived, he promised himself he'd shut up.
The Celestial’s stare broke into a grudging chuckle. It sounded rusty, like the dude wasn’t used to laughing. Indigo’s perplexed eyes leapt from Sheikoh to the Celestial and then back again, and Sheikoh lips unconsciously mirrored the Celestial’s. He felt about as confused as Indigo looked. Ghost’s face went smooth and empty.
The Celestial pretended to recover the composure he’d never really lost. His blue eyes sparked mysteriously.
“You may call me Dream,” Dream told them quietly, face lost in thought.
Sheikoh raised his hand, and Indigo rolled his eyes.
Dream nodded for him to continue.
“Well? Mister Dream?” he asked.
“What do you want with me? Or us, I guess? You’re rolling with Legacy, you aren’t short on thieves,” said Sheikoh.
Dream smiled at Sheikoh, then at Ghost.
The kingpin nodded back.
“We’ll get to you specifically later,” Dream promised him. “But as to our purpose-“
“Whoa, mate, hold onto those hooves, I’m not agreeing to anything until I know what’s up, dig?” Sheikoh cut over the Celestial. He wasn’t about to get mixed up in another Dekla thing.
On that note, what was he going to do about the Arch Centaurai? What if the Celestial found out?
What if the Centaurai found out?
Did the Celestial know any way to nullify the Centaurai’s crescent?
He opened his mouth, framing safe questions in his mind.
“Prince of hell, do you ever shut up?!” Indigo burst out.
Apparently he was annoying the ganglord.
“Aww is someone a little cranky?” Sheikoh asked sarcastically. Then; “Listen mate, I’m not a stupid pile of muscle like you. I’m not gonna sign up for anything at the first sign of payoff. I don’t know if anyone ever told you, but money isn’t going to do anything for you when you’re lying in a coffin…”
“’Stupid pile of muscle’, huh? Coming from the guy who let himself get blinded by a flash grenade yesterday!” Indigo shot back at Sheikoh with a snort of derisive laughter.
“Yeah? Well, if I hadn’t been there you’d be dead! So why don’t you put your big boy panties on and stop living in your little state of denial!” Sheikoh retorted. Indigo’s eyes flashed.
“Well I was just helping out your little, white ass, Silence! Those guys were following you, if it wasn’t for me you’d be dead, kid!” Indigo shouted, flinging spittle into Sheikoh’s face.
“You’re right about that, mate. But you didn’t save anyone. They were trying to give me a job,” Sheikoh shot back angrily.
Then he remembered what the job was. He glanced at Dream guiltily before adding; “And say it, don’t spray it, am I right guys?”
“You are the biggest-“
“Enough!” Dream ordered sharply, looking at Indigo. Sheikoh had a feeling that the Celestial knew what he had been hired to do.
“I wish you really were silent…” Indigo grumbled under his breath.
Ghost spoke up from his corner.
“They wanted you to kill Dream? Or to steal… something?” he asked Sheikoh, who barely managed to hide his shock.
They knew.
“Yeah,” Sheikoh shrugged like it was no big deal. His eyes flicked to Dream, and the Celestial smiled like he was joking. Dream gestured that he should continue.
“I mean, the Arch Centaurai wanted me to hit you..." Now Ghost was wearing a chilly grin as well. Sheikoh gulped. "So here’s your chance to give me a better offer.”
“I’m not so easy to kill," Dream confessed offhandedly. "But for your services, I’d pay…” He thought for a moment. "How does 40 million glow sound to you?”
Sheikoh’s and Indigo’s jaws dropped at the same time. Ghost’s expression didn’t even flicker.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Dream surmised, clapping his hands together. “Excellent. Now, Sheikoh, to answer your earlier questions about the mission, it’s nothing really. You’re going to procure a book for me. It’s called the Transcendent Codex.
Sheikoh nodded. Straight forward enough. Celestial and books, that’s just a part of their equation.
The Celestial turned to Indigo.
“And then we’re going to instate Ghost as the new Arch Centaurai of the region.”
A tense silence followed the pronouncement.
Ghost? The leader of Legacy?
Why him of all people?
Sheikoh hated the thought of Cylium Vest in that office as much as the next guy, but there were worst candidates. At least Vest's half of Interium didn’t qualify as a hell hole.
“Far be it for me to be the voice of reason,” Sheikoh objected. “But do we really want the leader of a gang a scum and murderers in control of the country? He basically rules West Side and, well, it’s still kinda crap.” Indigo opened his mouth furiously, so Sheikoh added; "No offense."
“I’m not so bad,” Ghost smiled blackly.
Sheikoh snorted his disbelief. He leaned over by Indigo and stage whispered; “Coming from the dude who got his name from scaring little kids.”
The ganglord answered him with a death stare, and Sheikoh giggled. A vein bulged in Indigo’s forehead. He needed to learn to chill.
Ghost made a sound of amusement, and Sheikoh looked over.
“Really, Silence, do I look the type?” he asked.
Sheikoh raised his eyebrows.
“You don’t look like any type I ever met. Why don’t we have some story time? Down?” Sheikoh suggested with a grin.
He was surprised when Dream spoke up.
“That sounds like an excellent idea, Silence. Ghost, tell us a bit about yourself,” the Celestial said with a gleam in his eyes. Indigo
leaned forward, and Ghost smiled.
“Eight years ago I lived over on the East Side,” Ghost began quietly. “I joined the Century and quickly climbed ranks. By the time I was 28, I was already a Captain. That was back before the wall had been built, of course.”
Sheikoh squinted with disbelief. There was no way Ghost was thirty-six. He barely looked twenty years old; Indigo looked older than him.
“I was headstrong and arrogant. I had no doubt that I was invincible,” Ghost’s voice dripped with irony. “I took two other Century straight through the Trickway, sure the local gangs wouldn’t dare attack us.” His voice hardened perceptibly.
“I was a naïve child”
Despite himself, Sheikoh found that he was listening intently.
“A gang called the Brackets ambushed us. They killed the other Century with an illegal plasma shear that broke right through our fields. I had been hit as well. I would have died there if five vigilantes hadn’t stepped in and attacked the Brackets themselves. They… we… called ourselves The Legacy of Vengeance and Vigilantes,” Ghost revealed. Sheikoh shot an incredulous glance at Indigo. The ganglord was watching Ghost intently with an unreadable expression. “It was shortened to Legacy later.”
“They took down three of the eight Brackets before the gang retreated. I don’t think they were trying to save me; just use the firefight as an element of surprise and a means of acquiring our Century gear.”
“They were surprised when they found me and scared. But they brought me somewhere to… to fix me up. I wanted revenge for the fallen Century. The next morning, Legacy brought me to the Brackets hideout.”
“We cleaned them out without a single casualty.”
Sheikoh shivered. It was surreal to hear all of this come out of the mouth of the cultured-looking man in front of him. Ghost’s smooth speech reminded him of the mesmerizing clicking of fingers on a keyboard.