by Marc Mulero
Three Rogues stood guard, decorated with more embellished armor than their comrades, each with a rich cloth draped over their chests. Blague and his commanders waited patiently for a primer from Solan.
"This is Jayce Dannon…”
He posed with a long leg extended in front of him, a pointed brown shoe directed at his audience like an arrow marking those who had made him wait. A slim body-type was outlined through the overseer’s cloak, and poking from beneath was a metallic harpoon gun in his grip. The flashy weapon spit strips of fire like a monster truck engine revving with impatience. Feathered black hair and sleek black eyebrows shined in the incandescent light, reflecting almost as much as the Templos Rogue pin clipped between shoulder and chest. The brooch displayed a set of wings impaled by a sword, showcasing the death of freedom of which the Rogues loved to remind themselves.
“Coe Delrick...”
Resolute, daunting, and eager, Coe was at the center of the three Rogues with a tense scrutinizing brow, trying to discern his guests’ motives. Wavy blond hair fell over to one side like a waterfall, and crow’s feet scratched both sides of his straight face, drawing a dull and weathered appearance but for his blue eyes that sucked in all of the light around them. When folding his arms, one glimmered from under his cloak, coated with spiny metal that sparked with electricity. His weapon, no doubt.
“And Vleece Manas."
Her large muscular arms rested over the base of a standing silver hammer, posing like a Roman statue, a general who had just obtained some glorious victory. Donned in a forest green cloak draped over her shoulders, she appeared stoic, powerful, exacerbated by the mark on her bald head – a gray tattoo of bladed wings cascading from front to back. This was the executioner, the muscle, the reason the others were so confident… until her expression softened. Could it be that she was also the Templos voice of reason?
"The Overseers of the Templos Rogues.” Solan ended his introduction.
“Aren’t you the man responsible for the impressive imprisonment of Mulderan Grenich?” Jayce asked with intrigue. “And of course, the equally laughable loss of him?”
Blague set his gaze on the overseer. “One day, you may be faced with an impossible decision, Jayce. After that day, I suspect you will make inquiries without such ignorance.”
Jayce tried to lunge for his adversary, eyes flashing with anger, but a firm hand from Coe held him back.
“What do you know of impossibilities, or of hardships?” Jayce asked pompously. “My family was murdered in cold blood!”
Blague raised his hand up to request patience. “My previous statement still stands,” he replied and turned to Coe. “The director in the shadows, your true leader. Have we earned a word with him or her?”
“I’m sorry, Blague,” Coe apologized. “He would have revealed himself if he thought it best.”
The Sin Leader exchanged a quick glance with Drino and Volaina, and then turned to Sabin. “Very well. We have pursued this threat and risked our lives with the intent to form an alliance. But that wasn’t all that we’ve come armed with.”
Jayce reached for his harpoon, but Coe held a hand over his.
“The three of you,” Blague rotated eye contact between the overseers, “we’ve come armed only with news to gain your trust. Your family members who you believe were executed are still alive. The Hiezers have fed you false information to keep your attacks at bay. They could not risk the potential public discord if they were to truly murder your families and such news got out.”
Coe was frozen stiff, Jayce’s eyes nearly bulged from his head – in scorn – for if these Sins were playing a game, they would be murdered on the spot. Vleece on the other hand, only dipped her head and let a tear splash off of her hammer.
“That cannot be,” Coe muttered, hand trembling as it reached over his mouth.
Jayce tilted his head. “You... you better not be lying to us,” he said with a tremulous voice, abandoning his wicked composure.
“He’s not,” Sabin confirmed. “It was revealed to us by a prisoner of the Hiezers. We’ve since received confirmation of this truth.”
Vleece gripped her immense hammer with one veiny hand and swung it over her shoulder. She took a few steps over to where Blague and Solan stood, and after a short pause, bowed. “You have quelled my anger and renewed my hope. If my mother still has life in her, I will fight that much harder to bring her back home and with whoever will help.”
The Sin Leader bowed his head in grace.
Coe took a deep breath, then smiled. “Thank you, Sins. We all nearly fell when the news found its way to us… it made us question everything. Whether our actions caused this, whether we were fighting a Goliath. It took all of our strength, collectively, to pull back up. And now you hand us another suit of armor over hardened skin. You hand us a second chance to save them.”
“Sins generally endure these tests as a prerequisite to our branding,” Blague replied. “We all stand before another having suffered terrible losses, but we also represent virtues of fortitude and vigor. My hope is that we won’t waste them.”
As Coe approvingly nodded in response, steam blew from the vaulted door in the distance. The chamber of treasure was unlocked. The overseers exchanged glances, before all attention turned to the door. Was it this coming together that beckoned the leader in the shadows?
Conversation halted, the furnace at their feet lulled, and all that could be heard was the staccato of a cane striking the floor. It echoed throughout the room, where a silhouette of a hunched figure took shape.
Coe rushed over to help the old man, but his aid was refused.
“Life takes some fascinating turns,” a struggling voice projected. “It makes it very hard to ignore the wheel of fate.”
Blague’s eyes squinted, but the shrouded figure was just out of reach of the room’s fluorescent light.
“My overseers here believe that I conceal my identity to hide from highlords, but in truth, I am ashamed of myself,” the old man said, taking slow steps, “for my decisions, and of what I’ve become.” The clanking of wood persisted like a metronome punctuating his words. “Now, here I am. Time runs thin and my regrets are overflowing. The wheel of fate has given me one last chance to make things right.”
The Sin commanders listened to the hunched figure speak out his woes, waiting for him to escape from the darkness.
Then finally, the old man lifted his head, letting the light wash over his features and ignite his golden eyes.
Sabin’s impatience turned into shock.
“No…” he whispered. A thousand memories bounced around his brain at once, trying to make sense of the image in front of him. Wrinkles were endless, skin folded, body weak, but those features that he remembered were all the same. All the mental snapshots he had of his father were of a boy looking up to a man of strength, confidence, pride. How had his pops reanimated into this… ghoul? How was he alive?
“Sabin, my boy, I pray that you can forgive me,” he begged. “I’ve let you down so many times and in so many ways that I didn’t know how to return to you.”
“Aldarian… you went off the grid, just to resume a position of mutiny?” Blague asked in disbelief.
Sabin’s astonishment intensified to rage upon hearing Blague’s betraying words. Waiting no more than a moment, he stomped over and furiously smashed a fist into his face. Blague jerked a few steps back from the blow, spitting a mouthful of blood to the floor. “You told me he died searching for the Society!” Sabin shouted at him. “You knew he was alive?!”
“Sabin… it was the wish of my oldest friend for me to watch over you and to permit him the dignity that he’d begged for, the dignity of death over abandonment,” Blague defended, piercing Sabin’s eyes with his own.
Sabin angrily shook his head at Blague, appalled by his disloyalty. “No, no… you were my friend too, and I trusted you with everything I am,” he said with clenched fists before turning to his father. “And you! You left me in this fuck
ed up world alone with no direction, dad!”
“It was never my intention to harm you, son. Look… look at yourself. You’ve found your own purpose, your own way,” he said with a large frown, balancing himself with both of his hands over the cane. “Don’t blame Blague. He’s a good man and I put him in a difficult position.”
“I accepted a long time ago that I was alone in the world, that my family was extinct. That was bearable because I was powerless to change it,” Sabin vented. “But this... this betrayal! How the hell am I supposed to accept this?”
“Aldarian… why did you continue to fight?” Blague probed, rubbing his pained jaw.
“I was good at two things in my life,” the old man’s voice was beginning to dry out. “Drinking and strategizing,” he boasted, avoiding Blague’s question. “Without one or the other, I was off balance.”
“I’ve known you as an adult for all of three minutes, and I’m already sick of you,” Sabin blurted, pacing with anxiety.
Aldarian let out a hearty laugh. “Spoken like a true golden boy,” he said before reprising his sorrowful stance. “But I do have a point I’d like to get to. You must know the other side… ehem,” he cleared his throat, struggling to swallow past a lump. “When I lost your older sister, you were only nine. It took a heavy toll, my boy, heavier than the weight of three planets. It was then I confessed to Blague my failures as a husband and a father… how I should be condemned to a slow, punishing death for it. He relentlessly tried to sway me, of course. You know him.” He waved his hand between them. “In my face for days on end as a noble friend should be, begging me to reconsider. But I had already fallen you see. I disappeared into a drunken stupor for decades that followed, drowning in my sorrows. Unswayable.
“It seemed like an eternity that I sat there, befouled and alone, until one night, on the other side of the world...” His eyes lit up like he was seeing it all over again. “A young man found his way into the back of a slummy bar and ripped my head up by the hair. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes in my drunken haze, because I was so sure it was you, Sabin. The man looked like me when I was youthful. But then I realized, no, that can’t be, this lad is too young. I must have died, I thought, and now I’m looking in the mirror to see my ethereal form. But reality struck me again when I saw my decrepit fingers grasping a bottle of gin. So, I finally asked the question, 'Who are you, boy?'" Aldarian blocked Sabin's path. "'My name is Al,' he said to me, 'and I'm here to claim a debt you owe to your late daughter, my mother.' Soon, it all became clear. Al's golden eyes were two generations my junior. 'Legend has it that you orchestrated some of the greatest feats in the underground world. So here I am, to collect by making you orchestrate some more. And that's non-negotiable, grandfather.'"
Sabin stared down at his father with unrelenting angst. "Are you saying that you held back my nephew all of this time, too?" he glared with hatred. "Father of the Century, right here."
Mars padded over to the hunter and cried next to him, troubled by his master’s contempt.
"And his sister, your niece, too, I’m afraid. Every second I spent with Al and Tes gave me more courage. It made me remember a time that I almost convinced myself never existed. Not five years later, I was forced to bury another two of my kin and to relive the nightmare that has resurfaced," Aldarian said with a shrinking voice, a tear falling from his brimming eyes.
Sabin’s face hardened. "And you let them die?" he whispered.
Aldarian clenched his eyes in shame, his bitter tears streaking down his cheeks. He blinked up at Sabin with renewed hope. "Don't you see?" he asked while dropping his cane to pull Sabin's ripped cloak by the shoulders. "I've been given another chance, another shot at redemption. To reunite with my son!"
The hunter wrenched both of Aldarian's arms off of his cloth. "You're as blind as a bat, you old chump. Did you ever stop to think that not everything has to do with you?" His anger was beginning to overwhelm him… and he wasn’t the only one losing control.
Volaina couldn’t bear to watch any longer. Her insides were contracting like tightly wound knots, until, finally, she collapsed to her knees. The guilt had taken over. Hands cupped her face to shield herself from everything, so she could weep in peace.
Already disturbed by the events unfolding, Eugene hesitantly walked over to comfort, perplexed at what could possibly have caused this.
Sabin raised his hand, motioning to a distraught Volaina in front of him. "Don't take this one to watch any sad movies," he said dryly before turning back in the opposite direction. "Is that room safe to go into or is it going to electrocute me? Or maybe reveal that I have ten more family members that died yesterday?" he ranted at Jayce.
Jayce kept his head down and motioned for Sabin to go right ahead, knowing not to antagonize.
"Sabin," Volaina cried out. "I'm so sorry," her voice weakening with each word.
The hunter walked over to her and asked, "What are you talking about? What are you sorry for? This has nothing to do with you. Is my father's narcissism contagious?"
"Sabin!" Volaina repeated, grabbing his arm with a trembling hand. "I… I was there when your niece and nephew were killed. I... I didn't have the necessary intel on this attack to save them."
Sabin swung his arm to break Volaina's grip. "What? And you didn't try to stop them? That's not the Volaina I know!" he shouted at her.
The spy commander convulsed with silent sobs. "It was me… I killed her," she mouthed.
"What the fuck did you just say?" Sabin unsheathed his curved blade with fury.
Eugene jumped in front of Volaina and puffed his chest, readying himself for the hunter’s lash. When their eyes met, he could see that Sabin’s were glaring through his, lost in some manic rage. It was obvious that no words would calm him.
"I killed her," she repeated in defeat. “I deserve to die, Eugene. Step aside."
Aldarian was overcome with sorrow, feasting his eyes on his granddaughter’s killer. He was at a loss for words and not at all equipped to console his son.
Neither was Blague… the only thing he could do, the only thing anyone could do, was stare blankly as the dump of catastrophic information poured over Sabin, dismantling his world.
"All of you, you’re all poison," Sabin’s voice became hoarse. He dropped his blade and tossed his metal glove at Eugene's chest, staring at him with wide eyes before jolting his head toward Aldarian. "Pop, you should've stayed dead," he said, making his way to the room his father had hobbled out from.
Aldarian scrunched his face in pain, looking like he’d been stabbed in the heart. "This is what I wanted to avoid when I ran off all those years ago," he said out loud to himself. “It’s worse than my imagination could conjure… so much worse.”
The sound of an electric charge pulsed through the room. "I raised those two as if they were my own," Coe said evenly, pressing down so his metallic glove sparked with voltage.
Eugene tossed his rifle over his shoulder and aimed it at Coe's forehead, not uttering a word.
"Al and Tes were rays of sunshine for this group, both with unrivaled energy," Coe went on, directing his rigid fingers at Volaina. "You hindered your own cause, Volaina, and you should be murdered for what you've done!"
Blague placed himself in front of Coe's charged weapon. "Your families would have been burnt alive in the bombing we stopped if not for Volaina's decision. She sacrificed her humanity to save all of you and unite us, to further our cause," he defended while stepping closer to Coe, minuscule bolts of electricity harmlessly bouncing off his chest. "Surely, you see that…"
The unhinged overseer held his ground, masking his anger with a nervous stillness.
"He's right," Vleece said, peering over at the aggressor.
"Lower your weapon, Coe," Jayce butted in, still leaning on the wall. "There are ways to avenge our fallen, but this isn't one of them."
Aldarian watched with a grave expression, still torn by his son's rejection. His hands shook from the weakness of his old he
art. "Coe," he finally yelled, "my grandkids' sacrifice will not be in vain. Lower your weapon and listen to the man standing in front of you. That poor woman is already paying the price for what she’s done."
Coe remained unmoved, until his face eventually twitched, flashing a brief grimace.
"That's an order," Aldarian reiterated.
The overseer swallowed hard and finally dropped his arm. He eyed Blague vexingly before making his exit, colliding shoulders in frustration on his way past the Sin Leader, and then fixed his gaze on Tes’ murderer. If looks could kill, Volaina’s heart would have stopped on the spot. But life went on, and Coe too, down toward the narrow entranceway and back to his quarters. All eyes followed him on his departure.
"Jayce, Vleece, Solan, please escort our guests to their quarters. We could all use a break," Aldarian said feebly.
Blague rubbed his jaw while watching Eugene and Lesh carry a catatonic Volaina out of the room, then glanced to the overseers, and finally crossed back over to his oldest friend.
Aldarian stared longingly to the back room, wondering when Sabin would let up.
"He'll cool off," Blague comforted. "I feel I deserved that punch. And you, your lashing, old friend."
Aldarian nodded. "I deserve far worse. The boy is right. My time left here is too short to fix what I've done."
This is too much to watch. Aldarian was livelier than Sabin once upon a time. The man has aged terribly.
"We were once young men together. Now look at me," Aldarian said as if reading his mind, glaring down at his crippled hands perched over his cane.
Blague silently stared at the same golden eyes of his once youthful friend sitting in an old man's crumbling body.
"You haven't aged a day, Blague. Seeing you has played an awful trick on my mind. It made me believe I was young again, too, for a moment."
"We were a good team all those years ago. Why don't we reprise our roles and work together again, for a better cause?"