by Marc Mulero
Disturbed by her last comment, Blague side-eyed Orin, before looking back to the goddess.
"The island has changed me." She noted the room’s distress, and willed the smoke toward Blague. "My vision is greater and my thoughts have been amplified. Here, pass into my world."
The smoke whirled around his head like a soundless tornado, forcing pulses through his body and veins to jut from his neck. Thoughts began to race at an incomprehensible speed, relieving him of the concept of time. Memories were so bright that they appeared as reality, and before he became completely lost, Jen retracted the smoke, causing him to forcefully exhale.
"That's intense," Blague breathed heavily. “The feeling is reminiscent of Auront.”
With flowy hand movements making it appear that Jen was controlling the smoke by way of ballet, she persuaded the smoke to Orin, and pushed it full on in his direction.
Then something happened that even she, a god, couldn’t foresee.
Her jaw locked in place when she looked up into Orin’s smoky eyes, her expression both challenging and dumbfounded all at once. But he just stared back, a shadow of a grin on his face… because the smoke clawed around him, scratching to get in with no success. It was as if a force field lived around him. Then, when he decided it was enough, he casually lifted his hand, driving the smoke harshly back to its source.
"Careful, this power is new to you. It will take time to fully understand."
"I meant no harm," Jen responded.
"You haven't caused any," Blague interjected.
Eugene folded his arms and Sabin looked ahead, perplexed at the odd scenario playing out in front of him.
"What are your future plans for the Aura?" Blague asked bluntly.
Jen briefly hesitated. "Auront calls to me. Jason was a madman, but his vision was bright. When he tapped into my thoughts, I realized something - that this feeling was an experience greater than I've ever known, and that I want to pursue it for the good of humanity." She balled her fist, crushing the smoke around it. “We have much to gain, together.”
"So much of you is the same." Eugene took a hopeful step forward. "Your stubborn chase for purpose, it's still there. You're just chasing something different." He managed to crack a smile.
"Something better, I hope." She glanced at her hands.
"I think your new goal takes the cake over being a reporter," Eugene joked.
"Asura, you and your followers may use this facility as long as you need. May our alliance prosper," Blague saluted.
"We have no right to judge what your pursuits are, so long as you harm no one who is not willing," Orin added. "You remind me of someone I once knew."
Eugene grasped her hands with relief. "Welcome back, Jen. I've missed you."
Chapter 7
Dendrid scaled the Senation fortress effortlessly in the night like a ghoul hunting for blood. Stiff joints cracked free of confinement and muscles stretched like unused rubber bands. It was happening. Muscle memory was returning to him, reminding his body of what it once was – a silent weapon.
He swung around surveillance cameras and clawed away from windows so as not to reveal even a shadow to the slumbering Sins. No inkling of movement. Nothing.
Everything is fine, little rebels. Sleep.
Long fingers curled around the roof ledge, nails scraping against cement, and with every thin bulging muscle hard at work, he lifted his head over to meet a warm breeze blowing back thick hair.
Miraculous. Food and fresh air… what more can I ask for?
The thinly veiled moon gleamed like a fading flashlight to expose a ten-person patrol crew scattered around the roof. Blague had exercised caution in light of their prized prisoner, but it wouldn’t be enough.
Whatever device they implanted in me is blissful. I must ask Eldra the name of this violinist. She will owe me an answer or two when I'm done here.
Hospital garb clung to his long body, and the IV bag swished all around, still strapped to his arm. His naturally muscular frame felt thinner than ever. He sneered quietly at his withered state in disgust, but realized that he was faster, deadlier, hungrier this way.
Minimal blood… there's no need for more. I know not of this movement. These people may be saints, for all it's worth.
A jolt of strength pushed Dendrid airborne. He cleared the ledge and drew both curved blades in one motion, eyes darting to be sure his movements were still nothing but wind to the exiled. Heartbeat rising, thick in his throat, pumping. Harder, harder. One hundred, one-fifty, two. Four times the capacity of the average man’s… but what did it mean? His speed was unmatched… that’s what. A foot barely touched ground before he was lost in a blur. Cautious and quick – his haste was manic, somehow silent, and then he was nothing, abruptly ceasing like he’d never moved at all.
The entrance to the corridor is guarded by one. A straight way, so long as I remain dark. They cannot see what they do not know.
A man turned his head sharply, alerted by a gust of isolated wind, but Dendrid was already behind him, slowly rising with a blade framing his throat.
"It will be for but a moment, my brother," he whispered into the Sin fighter's ear, fingers like crooked splinters latched over his mouth. "It is unfortunate that you're in my way. You could have been anyone. Now rest."
The man trembled – eyes wide – lips muttering something unintelligible under his breath, about to scream, Dendrid knew, which is why the next action had to happen. Flesh of his neck was opened like a packet of ketchup. Air tickled the killer’s fingers from a final gasp, and then it was done. No drama or alarms, no prayers or tears, just a corpse being carried away with the winds, down the corridor and into a blackened corner for no one to find.
A dog on a leash. Is that all I've become? I’ve enjoyed the ring of "Mentis Shade” much more. Maybe since birth, I was destined to be a prisoner. Ah, the start of a new symphony. Whatever you do, Eldra, keep this bliss going!
The interior of the mansion was cloaked in darkness, broken only by the sheen of moonlight that glimmered in from windows. Most of the sectioned off wagons had been lights-out for hours. Patrol was sparse inside the fortress, considering the Sin’s intel anticipated only a large strike from the Hiezers, one that would be easily detectible.
That wasn’t the case though– brute force hadn’t worked well before, so in slipped a shadow to do the Hiezers’ bidding, to recover what was taken. He surveyed the expansive four-floor open layout from within the dark, ruling out pathways to the prison one by one by parameters of risk, closing his eyes to visualize the schematics that Eldra had prepped him with. Memorized. Laid over reality like a stencil, he filled in the missing spots with rotating patrol, calculating their speed, rotation, visibility.
I will slip between these floors seamlessly, ending whoever stands in my way, and tear out the hearts of those overlooking the ground level. Only then, at the southwest corner, will I find Mulderan wasting away in a cell. What a sight that must be. It may even be worth paralysis to leave him there.
Shut up, Dendrid, you're an idiot. Where will that leave you?
His eyes sprung open from a sudden rush, heart pounding through his throat like a hunter before the kill. “One, two guards. No more, no less,” he whispered to himself before bursting into a sprint.
Hooded eyes found their next target - a Sin guard one level below. The woman was armed to the teeth and her head was on a swivel, but still, she heard nothing. Dendrid leapt high, lifting his legs to clear the fourth-floor railing and slithering down to the third.
The Sin fighter attempted to ready her weapon when the startling sound of footsteps landed close by, but without so much as a gasp, a large palm had already cupped her mouth from behind.
"We can't have that, my dear," Dendrid said quietly, glancing around to see if anyone had been alerted. "Such a beautiful flower you are. I do apologize." He turned back to face her, long breaths warming her neck. "It is fate, after all. A chain of events set off from beyond our control," he ra
tionalized, the sound of his smoker's voice cracking through his whisper. "Rest for me so I can continue on." He then dug his curved blade into her heart.
Neck veins protruded. Her organs’ last desperate cry of blood, to warn the Sins, the innocent families below. But nothing, no sound. No last clues. Death snipped the muscles in her face like thread, leaving her expression to fall into a careless frown before her face darkened to purple. So quiet, with Dendrid watching calmly on as if this was a simple biological truth – predator and prey – lingering until her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The Mentis Shade laid the fighter’s body to rest.
I need a hostage of relevance. One that will allow the Highest Lord and myself safe passage out of here.
He then eyed the last stationed guard keeping watch – a man scouting on the same level across from him, pacing slowly, almost complacently.
One more death. No need for there to be any more than just one.
As soon as the guard strolled away from the intruder’s vantage point, Dendrid slipped quietly to the floor below and darted down the aisle. The marble grounds allowed him silent travel, without creating even the slightest disturbance. His footwear was soft, meant to maintain stealth. His garb, however, was ill-fitted for such a job, but it didn’t seem to get in his way.
Perhaps I can get him out of here without being seen. But surely, there's a guard near his cell. Maybe more than one death is needed.
The Shade peered up, knowing he was directly under his prey. He could smell him, feel the vibrations of his footsteps. This was the natural order of things, and so he slid his fingers into the grooves of the marble floor above and launched himself up over the railing into a spin, weapons already in hand before flying into the guard’s space.
"This was meant to be," he declared, locking eyes with his victim for a split-second.
Both of his blades visibly fused into one, creating an illusion to the fighter just before warm blood fanned across the wall.
Then the illusion was gone - mid-air spin slowed to a halt, feet caught on the bannister, leaving him perched like a looming crow for but an instant before tucking his blades and lunging forward to snatch the corpse’s rifle by the strap. An inch further and it would’ve clanged against the floor, as good as an alarm, leading to a failed mission. The withered body then collapsed over his shoulder like an old friend reunited after war. An amusing thought.
He laid the remains quietly to rest and rose to appreciate the vastness of the mansion that was now free to explore. The route was outlined in his mind like a map, all clear except for a kid sneaking out of a wagon.
Could this be the hostage I require? A boy would tear at the hearts of mothers, but whoever their leader is knows a boy is not worth the price of a King. Yet another pending tragedy. The strings of fate lay another obstacle in my path to try my conscience. My answer has not changed. Wheels of destiny, it's me before them.
He hopped again onto the third-floor railing and plunged downward, catching himself on each ledge before dropping to the next. His feet touched ground and bolted toward the stocky, round-faced kid who slipped into the moonlight, slowing to become a looming monster straight out of a child’s nightmare.
Ever so gracefully, Dendrid hunched over and whispered, "Curious boy. It's before your time, but at least it's for a purpose, whatever that's worth…"
He lifted his curved blade in position to split the boy's skull, but twitched in the heat of the moment, having a second-long delay before making his decision.
The boy straightened stiff like he’d heard a ghost, a shutter from the sudden blockage of moonlight. Why couldn’t he move? Why would his body betray him like this, leave him frozen in fear when he so desperately needed to run? Slowly, his neck thawed, giving him just enough slack to turn his head. Terror fought him every inch. Anxiety, then shock… he didn’t know this crazed person, this reaper. His lips parted for no words to leave or screams to sound.
"Perhaps I will see you again in the afterlife. And then you can have your revenge. You can kill me, over, and over, and over again for punishment, until your little heart is content."
The Mentis’ blade plunged to deliver a mortal slice, but his arm flinched mid-arc at the sound of something traveling through the air at a swift pace. A String Blade hooked onto his sword, lurching his descending arm backward.
"Kentin!" Sabin shouted. "Run!"
Dendrid shook his weapon to untangle it from Sabin's and turned around to face his bearded foe.
Could it be? A hostage of relevance? He will have to be my ticket since I've been uncovered.
Sabin retracted his grounded blade and stepped toward the strange man, allowing for Kentin to scurry away to safety. He shrugged off the pelt resting on his shoulder from his recent quest and ignored Mars’ furious barks behind a closed door.
It would be wise of me to quicken my step. Soon this mansion will be flooded with onlookers.
The hunter’s face was partly shadowed in the rays of moonshine, a golden eye gleaming under a hardening brow. “You would kill a boy?! What kind of man are you?”
Dim wagon lights twitched on by those an earshot away from the commotion.
Sabin launched one blade forward and raced to follow it, while Dendrid traced the spinning glaive’s path and deflected it with a swipe of his curved sword, and then watched another fly en route to his forehead. He looked past the disc to his dueler in stark confidence, watching the hunter’s anger turn to disbelief when a spark effortlessly knocked the next glaive far away. Dendrid was playing on another level, toying with the hunter who worked to swing the repelled weapon in a wide orbit for another round.
Round the wire came, wrapping Dendrid’s edge before he twirled his sword in hand like it was some sort of game, purposely tangling himself, laughing mockingly all the while. He then twisted his body so fast that the force of his pull caused Sabin to lurch forward like a fisherman who hooked some ungodly beast. A bang sounded from him slamming hard onto the ground, shoulder first, glaives skidding uselessly across the floor.
What was he facing? Looking up to see the Mentis Shade reverse his spin and unravel himself from the line was harrowing, like the beast he’d caught suddenly grew legs and crawled out from the ocean. A mutant – his already pounding heart thrusted even harder, so much so that Sabin could see his entire body vibrate with each tick.
“What sewer did you crawl out of?”
Before Sabin’s muttering was even out into the air, Dendrid disappeared into a wild sprint, head on, causing the fumbling hunter to scramble to his feet and lash back both of his wired weapons.
"The fuck is he wearing?" Sabin said to himself, his blades clanging against his metal gloves.
He wrapped the two separate lines twice around each of his arms to shorten his throwing distance and let them fly again, one trailing the other.
Dendrid cackled, whirling into a blurred shadow to deflect both discs.
Tugging them back to let them rip one last time all happened in a flash, in between a silent prayer, that whatever this man was, Sabin wouldn’t have to deal with him in close combat. The glaives hummed distinctly, one aimed high and the other low to throw off his opponent, but Dendrid lifted his leg and sliced overhead, nullifying both attacks.
Shit.
That was it. His last shot. Now with a doubtful expression, all Sabin could do was yank the discs back to embrace Dendrid's charge.
Goosebumps lined the killer's arms, his face appearing as though he’d reached a state of euphoria.
This music is exhilarating. The energy it produces is undeniable.
The Mentis twisted both blades in his grasp so they ran lateral to his arms, curving at his elbows. He dashed forward, winding into the hunter’s space. Every move was calculated and dangerously fast, like he was traveling in a different realm of time.
Screams for help persisted, coming from the wagon where that boy had fled for cover.
Time runs thin.
Sabin held his double-sided b
lades in hand, now forced to fight head on. He swung tactically, aiming for a critical strike with every attempt.
But Dendrid handled himself in an odd manner, the likes of which Sabin had never encountered. Perhaps learned in some far away land, to wield weapons as odd as his. Either way, for the first time in many years, his arms felt like hundred-pound rocks. There was no grace, no intuition. Movements felt uncoordinated and powerless. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, feel his life slipping through his fingers. Seeing the incoming shape did something nevertheless. Doubt somehow rebounded into the might of a warrior making his last stand, and with that, the hunter crushed back with strength threefold - hooks and jabs – sending sparks of clashing metal with every hit to repel this creature.
Still the killer advanced with unconventional tactics, straightened back, low ducks, spins quicker than a blink – animalistic yet graceful – defending each blow in such a way that allowed him to weave himself closer into Sabin’s vicinity, to infiltrate deeper after every failed strike.
Realizing each step was another backward, knowing he was a swing away from failing desperately, the Templos redirected to the offensive, spinning low to slice the invader’s legs just when the main lights in the mansion flickered on, causing Dendrid to experience a split-second of distraction and allow for Sabin's swing to graze his thigh.
The time is now.
A metal-edged uppercut erupted with such force that one of Sabin’s discs went flying straight up. Dendrid then shifted his weight in the same motion, flipped the sword to be front-facing, and hooked his swing downward to knock the second String Blade to the floor.
Sabin was in awe from the swiftness of Dendrid’s strike, feeling as though he was manipulating the laws of physics.
Then, amidst lingering shock, that same blade was in motion again, inches away from crippling him for good. But something happened. Reflexes of unknown speed, an attribute he didn’t know he had, helped metal find metal once more. Sabin caught the blade, grasped down hard to keep it steady, and stopped momentum that was thought to be unstoppable.