9
Lifting up Jutcer, Siron and I carried the injured man by placed his arms around our necks. At first, I was reluctant to the stupid idea, but Salyanna, against my protest, somehow talked me down into aiding him. I had no idea how she did it; usually, I was not one to be easily influenced by the pleas and ideas of others. I suppose, it was the reason I had only five friends in five hundred years I had roamed the earth. Moving slowly, the wind brushing behind us, we climbed down the slope of the hill, trudging carefully through the dangerous blizzard.
“I have been meaning to ask you a few questions, Salyanna,” I began, grabbing Jutcer’s hand a little tighter, facing her. “When is the sun going to come out?”
“Oh, yeah, you are new to this planet,” she replied, walking in front of us, not looking back at me. “There is a possibility that it might not even come at all, and another possibility that this blizzard will not stop for the next few months.”
“Explain your answers, please. Your words seem to defy any understanding I try to muster.”
“A feeling we are all too familiar with, Rave. You see, fifteen years ago, when the madman first appeared before us, all sorts of strange things began to happen. It wasn’t just people disappearing, but the weather climate was changing, too. I was young, about your age, when it happened, and I didn’t understand what was going on. My brother went missing a year after this, and I never saw him again.”
“I am older than you, just so you know,” I muttered, chuckling to myself.
“Did you say something?” she asked, turning her head around. “I am sorry—I didn’t catch it.”
“Nothing it all,” I replied, inhaling slowly.
“Lies, he said he is older than you,” Jutcer added, looking at me. “I heard him say it with my own two ears.”
“I am tempted to throw you down, just for saying that, Jutcer,” I spat, giving him a good nudge to the back.
“Hey, he hit me,” he cried, pretending to be deeply hurt, falling face first into the snow. “Why did you do that?”
“You are joking, right?” I asked, looking at Siron and Salyanna, before turning my gaze to the fallen Jutcer. “I just gave you a soft nudge to the back.”
“No, you hit me in the back knowing that I was injured there,” he screamed, his acting rather convincing. “Why did you do it?”
“Are you okay?” Salyanna turned around, walking to him, and bending down to her right knee, her arm pressed against his chest. “I know you didn’t mean it, Rave, so please apologize to him for hurting him.”
“What,” I rattled, tramping closer to him, both of my hands on my rifle. “I shall not apologize for something I didn’t do. He is lying—ask Siron; he would know if I did anything to Siron, since we were both holding him at the same time.”
“I am not getting myself caught in this,” Siron murmured, flexing his arms around, his gaze drawn somewhere else. “I didn’t see anything, and I don’t want to be involved in this.”
“For you to say that, means that Rave is telling the truth,” Salyanna concluded, standing up. “Are you even hurt at all, Jutcer?”
“What are you saying?” he cried, his voice tense and grim. “What kind of question is that to ask me?”
“Sorry for asking this, but we all saw you fall, but your wounds were not that bad,” she responded, wiping snow from her face. “I just want to know.”
“I am hurt; I mean, look at me,” he shrugged back at her, pointing at his back. “How can I be faking this, and how can you even ask me that?”
“There is only one way to know,” I added, turning my head around, and pointing my gun at him. “This will tell if you are lying or not.”
His eyes widened, his lips spacing apart, when he saw the muzzle of my gun pointing at his legs. Pulling the trigger, I fired two rounds, aiming for his thighs, and at that moment, his survival instincts took over, forcing him to his feet. Jutcer dodged the bullets, rolling out of the way, as he spun around and pointed his gun at me. His legs, his back, and his chest, looked and functioned perfectly for someone who demanded to be carried. Jutcer stared at me, exhaling heavily, his eyes glowing with a red color.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Siron asked, glancing at Jutcer with an expression of anger. “Were you faking it this whole time?”
“Hey, hey, people,” Jutcer spat, releasing the pressure in his gun. “This man tried to kill me—I believe that is a more pressing matter at hand.”
“Yes, we will come to that,” Siron continued, examining Jutcer from head to toe, with his eyes. “Were you even hurt at all?”
“Sort of,” he replied back, closing one eye, his other eye focused on the gun’s scope he was pointing at me. “Rave is a monster, far worse than the mutant chimeras, and I think we should not take him so lightly.”
“This coming from the man who was faking an injury,” Salyanna added, a look of disgust on her face. “How could you do that to us, Jutcer? Do you know how much time and energy we wasted carrying you?”
Up above us, a rogue cannon shell exploded into the tree in front of us, the snow on its branches falling to the ground, causing it to sway to the right side. We finally broke into silence, finally realizing how dangerous the situation around us was. Turning, I scrutinized the area, looking for the best passage below. The tree, in front of us, would fall to the ground, and an avalanche was possible as a result of this.
“Let’s go, now,” I ordered, moving five yards to the left, before descending down the hill. “You don’t want to be here if an avalanche starts.”
They looked each other, alarmed, and did as I instructed, following behind me in a careless manner. The tree caught fire just as it began to fall towards the bottom. Fortunately for us, we didn’t experience an avalanche; otherwise, this situation would have been most unpleasant.
We finally made it to the edge of the hill, a place with a few trees, a small canyon of granite rocks, and a large lake filled with ice, frozen water. Basically, it was a thick layer of solid ice on top, and cold water on the bottom. And to get to the other side, we had to cross over this ice lake, a difficult task for some.
“Are you sure about this?” Jutcer asked, the moment we came to the shore of the frozen lake. “This doesn’t look safe; for all we know, there might be mutant chimeras lurking below the frozen ice, waiting for anyone to make a bold mistake of crossing over it.”
“You might be right,” Salyanna said, bending down, and picking up a pebble from the ground, before chucking across the frozen lake. “Monsters or not, we must cross the lake, and get to the other side.”
“I smell blood,” Siron yelled, sniffing the air, turning his head around. “Look over there—I see something.”
In the direction he was pointing at, I saw what looked like shadowy figures, standing stiffly on the frozen water. Their dark cloaks flapped in the wind, and their feet appeared to be hovering from the air. Siron made the first move, testing the frozen lake with his left foot, before walking on it. We all followed behind him, our guns loaded and raised, fighting our way against the strong blizzard. I looked down at the frozen ice, the feeling in my legs gone, and I felt uncomfortable to go on. I mean, walking on ice water without falling was downright madness.
“What the heck is this?” Jutcer exclaimed, lowering his weapon, looking up. “Who did this?”
“I don’t know, but whoever it is, I don’t think we want to stay here and find out,” Siron muttered, removing his hat, exhaling slowly.
In front of us, a dozen or so mutant chimeras lay dead, hung on metal spears—a ancient form of execution called impalement. The spears had been impaled through their lower abdomen, and came out through their right shoulder. And based on the blood that was still dripping on the long spears, it looked they had been killed ten or twenty minutes ago.
But who could have done this and why? To describe this horrific scene in full detail would surely mortify anyone of a faint heart, so I will not illustrate it any further. Removing her hood, Salyanna strolle
d forward, her gun on her back, and she looked up, placing her goggles on.
“I know that the mutant chimeras are beyond saving, but we can’t leave them like this,” she whispered, shifting her body around, looking at each of us individually. “Do you all agree?”
“Yes, I agree,” Siron nodded.
“Same here,” Jutcer muttered, trudging towards her, as he placed his gun on his back. “It would be dishonorable to leave them in this state; after all, they were once our kin.”
“I don’t think that is a good idea,” I added, moving away from them, tracking the footprints on the ground. “Whoever did this is close, and I don’t think they want you meddling with their prey.”
“What do you mean by prey, Rave, these were once our people,” Siron cried, placing his hands on the body of a dead chimera, and pushing it off the spear. “I wouldn’t rest well knowing that I left them here.”
“Don’t touch them,” I yelled to them, waving my hand back, as I sensed something ominous in the air. “You really don’t want to do that.”
“Please, explain to us why?” Salyanna asked, ignoring my warning, continuing her task. “If you know something important, then, please share with the group.”
“Too late for that now,” I sighed, pointing further ahead. “The one who did is coming.”
“Where is he?” Jutcer asked, being stupid and annoying as usual. “Oh wait, I see him.”
A man, in a red jump suit, long, black boots, wearing a yellow, frowny-face mask, trudged towards us. The long chains on his arms and legs rattled with each step he took. Despite seeing our guns pointed at him, despite knowing that he was outnumbered, he acted casually, pretending like he was strolling through a park. But deep down, I knew how dangerous this man was; and from the way he acted, it was almost like he was confident he could kill all of us.
“Halt, stranger,” Siron yelled, taking two steps forward, his gun raised at the odd man. “If you move, I will shoot you.”
“Siron, you idiot,” I muttered, shaking my head. “He will kill you, if you approach carelessly.”
“Heheheheh,” the strange man shrieked, scratching his shabby hair roughly, while looking up at the night sky. “What are you all doing? Those are mine.”
“Listen here, lad, I don’t know who you are, but you are not welcome on this planet,” Siron added, raising his deep voice, his feet planted firmly into the thick ice. “I will ask you one more time to halt, or I will be forced to shoot you.”
“I told you not touch my treasures,” he screamed, pulling out his dark hair from his skull, before dashing forward. “I will kill you all for that.”
The others opened fire, shooting the deranged man in the chest, and felling him to the ground. Blood gushed from his chest, his body hitting the ground of ice in a loud thud, and his hands falling on his sides. Like an idiot, Siron walked up to the man, reloading his rifle, hoping to have a closer look at the fallen lunatic. He crept closer to the man, pointing his gun at him, turning around with a smile on his face.
“I think we got him,” he chuckled, shaking the man’s body with his right foot. “He’s dead.”
No, something is wrong here, I thought, he is still alive, somehow.
“Ahhh!” Siron screamed, staggering back, missing his left arm.
The stranger, adjusting his yellow mask, stood up to his feet, and brushed off snow from his shoulder, acting like the bullets to the chest were not affecting him at all. He twisted his neck slightly, stretching his arms and legs, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Upon finishing his bizarre routine, he stood up straight, reaching into his right pocket, and pulling out a spear from his pocket. It was impossible; he had to be using some sort of trick, or he was some sort of magician. Pulling back, he chucked the spear at Salyanna, attempting to kill her in one strike. Gasping, her chimera instincts took over, and she rolled to the left, dodging the spear before it struck her. She jumped back to her feet, her hair lashing behind her, and began to fire back at the lunatic.
“I guess I will play with all of you,” he shrugged, pulling out another spear from his pocket, and hurling it at her. “I really like games.”
“Enough of this,” I intervened, grabbing the spear in mid air, spinning around, and chucking it back at him.
But before it could maim him, it disappeared into thin air, like it was some sort of illusion. He raised his index finger, shaking it left and right, laughing in a low tone. Moving back, I squinted my eyes, coughing slightly, as I noticed that the weather was getting worse. The snow kept falling against my face, making it hard for me to see the man clearly. I saw a flash of silver, and in that instant, I was stabbed in the chest by a knife of some sort. The lunatic drew close to me, his face inches from mine, laughing out loud, and acting as if he had defeated me. He twisted the blade around, planning on cause me great pain; however, I grabbed his hand firmly and drew him closer, before shooting him in the head with my gun. And like the spear, he disappeared into nothing, leaving his blade stuck in my chest.
“So, that’s how you abilities work,” I said, laughing, my gun still raised above me. “Everyone, come towards me.”
“Are you hurt, Rave?” Salyanna asked, rushing towards me, her eyes fixated upon the wound on my chest. “Goodness, how are you even standing?”
“It’s complicated,” I shrugged, removing the blade slowly from my chest, the pain very excruciating. “Now, if you don’t do exactly as I say, he is going to kill all of you.”
“We have to go back to town, and find a doctor for Siron,” Jutcer cried, placing Siron down next to us, his hands pressed against Siron’s left shoulder, to stop the bleeding. “He is not going to make it if he stays here.”
“Listen carefully to what I have to say,” I began, turning my head in every direction, as I surveyed the area for the yellow mask bastard. “What we are facing right now is nothing more than an astral projection of the killer. He is some sort of conjurer, a mage of illusions, with the ability to create a clone at will. His real body is hiding somewhere close, and the spears he is throwing are real. It is not the astral clone throwing them, but his real body, which is hidden somewhere really close.”
“And how do you know all of this?” Salyanna asked, puzzled, looking at me with suspicion “You seem to have a lot of knowledge on him—it is almost as if you know him.”
“I don’t, so let me finish,” I replied rudely, covering my nose and mouth with my hands. “I am not sure if any of you took special notice to the specific set of clothes he was wearing. Particularly, the number embedded on his back, a prison number to be exact. Several hours ago, I saw a transport ship falling from the sky, and it landed somewhere close to here. I was under the impressions that it was a galaxy transport ship, but after seeing this man, I highly doubt it is.”
“So, wait,” Jutcer interrupted, glancing at me, on one knee. “What are trying to say exactly?”
“Shut up, you idiot, and let me finish,” I rattled, my left fist clenched, giving him a mean look. “I am saying that the ship that crashed into this planet was transporting death row criminals to the next galaxy, the home of the Vandrel Guards. I am almost eighty percent sure that there is at least twenty of his kind running amok in these woods, each with their own specific set of skills and abilities.”
“Surely, you jest, right?” Siron asked, panting heavily, as he struggled to stay awake. “The mayor must be warned, if it is true.”
“He is coming, get ready,” I turned around, taking a defensive. “He is a probably an illusion, but the weapons he is throwing are real.”
The masked lunatic, laughing out loudly, jumped four feet into the air, spinning three times, before coming down in a vertical slash. I grabbed Siron’s leg and tossed him to the side, as I clashed my rifle with his blade, pushing him off. From the resistance he was giving me, it was hard to tell if it was an illusion, or if it was his real body. He shrieked out loud, taking a small leap back, his whole body disappearing into the blizzard. I heard gunshots,
followed by the clashing of steel blades, and then a scream. Turning back, I caught a glimpse of a shadowy presence moving through the snowy thicket, resembling the masked man in a way. That is his real body, I thought.
“Keep an eye out for the weapons,” I yelled, pressing the rifle against my cheek, as I closed one eye, holding my breath. “The real one is mine.”
I tracked the presence until it stopped behind a tree, stalking us with one eye, its fingers sticking out. I grabbed my gun tightly, relaxed my body, and pulled the trigger the moment he stuck his whole head out. The bullets pierced through his mask, and sent him plunging into the ground. His clone, which had been terrorizing Salyanna and the others, disappeared into thin air, signifying our victory and triumphant.
“Stay here with the others,” I yelled, marching over the ice, my eyes fixated on the fallen man.
Ignoring the dreary cold, the annoying snowflakes, and my uneasiness over the icy ground, I trudged forward, while keeping my rifle trained on my fallen foe. He rocked back and forth, his mask bloody, and his body laid flat over the thin, white grove. Shifting his head, glancing at me, he tried to muster enough strength to stand up, but he was seriously hurt for such a fit. Walking over to him, I bent down, grabbed one of his hands, and pulled him away from sight. I had my own plans for him, which I doubted any of my current colleagues would approve of.
“I have question for you, and I want you to reply honestly,” I whispered, sitting on his stomach, my gun lying on my left knee. “Please don’t force me to do anything that you might find discomforting.”
“I dealt you a mortal blow,” he began, panting heavily, shifting his gaze to the left. “How do you hold breath?”
“That’s not the answer I am seeking,” I yelled, pulling back his ridiculous mask, trying to see what his face looked like. “Oh, my, this is unusual.”
Beneath his mask, there was nothing but a swirling void of nothingness, a pure abyss that expanded into what looked like infinity. He had no eyes, nose, cheeks, or mouth—just a plain void of darkness. It made me dizzy just to stare into his face. Almost like looking into my own heart, a thing I truly feared above all.
“On second thought, you should keep the mask: it gives you character,” I replied, smashing it back onto his face, not minding the blood on my hands. “Now, I want you to tell me how many of your kind are roaming these woods, and who amongst you is the strongest, and the most fearsome. If you can, I would like you to also tell me of their speed, strength, and any special abilities they might possess.”
“And why would I tell you that?” he laughed, spitting blood onto my coat. “Why would I turn against my own brethren?”
“Because I am ordering you to,” I snickered, patting his yellow mask, taunting the man in agony. “Did you know that you could torture a man without causing any mortal harm to him? It is all about choosing the specific outer part of the body, which is elastic enough to withstand a great deal amount of pain. I like the ears, because no matter how much you pull and stretch them, they will retain elasticity and size. I will show you what I mean, since you don’t believe me.”
Grabbing his ears, I pulled back as hard as I could, and then twisted them in opposite directions, before releasing them from my grasp. He screamed in pain, his body trembling from the combination of the pain and the cold, as his mask almost fell off. This was simply amazing: I could really do this for days.
“Are you ready to talk?” I asked again, placing my hands on his ears again, ready to have another go at it. “I will let you go as soon as I have learned what I need to know.”
“Never,” he shrieked, panting heavily, his ears red and hot. “I will never rat on my pals.”
“I am glad you say that,” I added, pulling his ears roughly with a lot more force. “I can do this for hours, you know.”
“Okay! Enough please,” he screamed out loud. “I will tell you everything you need to know—just stop pulling on my ears, okay?”
“Good, I guess you are much smarter than you look. Now, tell me what I asked you before.”
“There were nine of us being transported to Dead Planet, the prison land for all those condemned to die, by the Vandrel Guards. We were passing over this planet when we were hit by something, and we crash-landed here on this cold planet. Three of my inmates and four guards did not make it out of the wreckage in one piece; however, those that survived fled into different directions, hiding from the guards and the monsters that prey in these woods. The strongest, in my opinion, is Derrick Lucy, the pyromaniac arsonist from the Jupiter colony, and the previous second, most wanted man in the galaxy. If I am not mistaken I saw him team up with Katherine, the leg hunter, and Tommy, the spree killer.”
“Are they really that strong?”
“Oh, yes, they are the most dangerous prisoners in my group, and are far much worse than me.”
“How many guards are there?”
“About a dozen or so, highly trained and skilled in combat, and they have been instructed to kill us if we try to escape, which we already did.”
“Are these guards also strong?”
“Yes, Mrs. Craft, the head guard, a Tarizard alien, is the strongest of them all. She is incredibly ruthless, punishing anyone who looks in her direction without mercy, and you will know her by the long, black bow she carries on her back—and a broad blade on her holster. I have told you everything you needed to know, so I trust you will keep your oath about letting me go free.”
“Oh sure, my good lad, I am a man of my word, and I will give you two choices since I am being generous. Would you like to go by a bullet in the head, or a spear in the heart? The choice is obviously yours to take.”
“But you said you would let me go?” he pleaded, his voice weak and low.
“I never specified how I would let you go, besides, I can’t just allow you to run amok impaling everyone you come across. I will give you thirty seconds to decide,” I smiled, standing up slowly, and walking over to pick up a long spear he had dropped against the bark of the tree
“Give me the bullet to the head,” he sighed, tracking me with his head, making another attempt to rise, but failing again. “I would rather you take my life, than to let Mrs. Craft have her sadistic way with me.”
“I will make it quick,” I replied, dropping the long spear, and retrieving my rifle. “Sorry, lad, but this isn’t personal at all. You are just simply standing in the way of my future plans, and I cannot have that.”
Smiling, I took three steps towards him, pumping one round into the bullet chamber, and pointing the muzzle at his head. Considering that his face was missing, or it was an illusionary trick my brain was playing on me, I had no way of knowing if that shot would kill him or not. But, I could always impale him when I was done, just to be certain. Hunching down, my breath held, I pressed on the trigger lightly, ready to deliver that final shot, but before I had the chance to shoot him, my gun was yanked away from my hands by some unknown force. Wide eyed, I looked at my hands, confused, and turned around in every direction, unable to explain what had just occurred to me. The gun was not longer in my possession, I knew, but things don’t just disappear without any reason.
“That man is not yours to kill,” a cold voice echoed into the wind, but without revealing the direction it was coming from. “He belongs to Dead Planet, a fate worse than death, so his life is not yours to take, you hear?”
“Show yourself, please, so I may speak with you on pleasant terms,” I replied, bowing my head, and lowering my other rifle. “On my planet, we consider it to be rude to speak to people, whilst hiding in the shadows.”
“Please forgive us for our bad manners,” the voice said, in a softer and gentler tone. “Allow us to introduce ourselves to you. We are the Vandrel Guards, the keepers of Dead Planet, and defenders of Justice and Law.”
Like ghosts, they manifested out of thin air, all eleven of them, wearing silver coated armor, and titanium reinforced headgears. Long, silk capes hung from their shoulders, maga
zine bandoliers attached around their waist, wearing long boots that reached their knees, and carrying powerful guns that made my rifle look like a joke. They were right in front of me this whole time, watching me torture this man, and that was bad. How did I not sense their presence? What will they do to me?
“What is your name, sir,” a feminine voice asked me, as one of them, in a brighter armor, stepped forward. “I am Cornelia Craft, the captain of the Vandrel Guards, but everyone calls me Mrs. Craft for short.”
“Charmed to meet you, Mrs. Craft,” I replied, taking back my other gun from her, and placing it on my back. “I am Rave Fireheart, a simple traveler passing by from earth.”
“What is an earthling like you doing on this planet?” Mrs. Craft asked, folding her hands above her chest, looking down at the fallen prisoner. “This planet is restricted to chimeras; it is a place where normal humans must not enter, under any circumstance.”
“It is as you have explained,” I added, tweaking my neck, as my feet felt cold. “But much like yourself—I am also stranded on this planet, because my ship was also shot down by the inhabitants of this planet.”
“It was a neutron plasma round,” a soldier whispered bluntly into her ear, whilst keeping his gun trained on my legs. “Should we call base for reinforcements—perhaps, ask them if they could also lend us another ship.”
“No, that would not work,” she replied, pulling out her pistol and shooting the prisoner in the head. “As long as they have that weapon, any attempts we make to send for help will be voided. If they were confident enough to shoot down a Galactic government vessel, despite knowing the consequences, they must have something powerful enough to block transmission signals, and powerful enough to capture or kill us. Tell me, Rave, what do you know of the inhabitants’ intentions for shooting us down.”
“Terrible things, I suspect,” I began, biting my lip, as I turned my head around. “I have a few of them travelling with me; we were headed to the lair of the madman, the beast responsible for this entire calamity, when we came across this foul prisoner.”
“We know,” Mrs. Craft said, bending down, checking the dead prisoner’s pulse with a scanner. “We watched you engage in a duel with this animal from the shadows.”
“That’s cruel, even for a galactic official,” I smirked, shaking my head. “If you were defenders of justice, then, why didn’t you aid us in our battle against him?”
“We are under orders to capture and kill the prisoners,” she replied, standing back up, turning her body around, and gazing towards the mountains. “We will not risk our lives to save a few people.”
“Rave, are you okay?” Salyanna cried, appearing abruptly without warning, her gun raised in the air. “Who are you people?”
The guards turned their attention towards her, marching around to form a perfect defense formation around Mrs. Craft, all of their guns aimed at Salyanna. And to my surprise, Salyanna, without fear, moved in closer, looking at them without faltering in terror. A twig snapped, forcing half of the guards to revert their guns towards the opposite direction, as they tracked the source of the noise. Nothing but the wind stirred in the air, the snowflakes falling heavily to the ground, and the sky still dark and gloomy. I don’t think the sun was coming out any time soon.
“Relax, Salyanna, they are not our enemies,” I responded, gesturing her with my right hand to lower her rifle. “They are prison guards from the Dead Planet, roaming these frozen woods in search of their missing prisoners.”
“A pleasure to meet you all,” she nodded, placing her gun on her back, as her claws reverted back to fingernails. “I would welcome you with open arms, food and lodgings, if the situation was not so dire, but I am afraid our troubles render us unable to accommodate you all.”
“Oh, you are so generous,” Mrs. Craft said, walking up to Salyanna, and placing her right hand on her shoulder. “And here I thought that chimeras were a vicious and murderous bunch, who only capture and kill anyone invading on their territory.”
“Not all chimeras are like that,” she replied, a faint, nervous smile on her face.
“I see,” Mrs. Craft concluded, her voice cold and heavy. “I am beginning to understand the situation a bit.”
Grabbing Salyanna’s shoulder, she shoved her roughly to the left, felling her into the deep snow. Salyanna, blinking, sat up, looking at her gun first before gazing at Mrs. Craft. She rolled up to feet, making a break for her rifle, but Mrs. Craft shifted into her way, both of her arms folding, taunting the chimera girl. Salyanna panted, gazing at me, unable to understand what was happening in front of her.
“What’s the meaning of this?” she asked, wiping the snow from her face, her hair swerving from her back. “Why are you attacking me?”
“You are a resident of this wretched planet and I want to release my pent-up frustrations on someone,” she shrieked, plodding on the snow, drawing her short blade out. “Do you know how much time we lost with this interruption? Do you even have any idea of the dangers you have unleashed upon this miserable planet. We were transporting some of the most dangerous criminals away from civilization to an isolated planet, where they could do no harm to the innocent.”
Salyanna, reaching for her left boot, drew her dagger and deflected Mrs. Craft’s blade, as she paced back. She stumbled against the bark of the tree behind her, a bit of snow landing on her hair and shoulders, her dagger still extended outwards. She stood up straight and walked back towards us, brushing some snow from her head, with a serious look on her face. Spinning, Mrs. Craft swung her short sword down at her, hoping to maim Salyanna in her leg, but the chimera girl jumped back, dodging all of her lethal blows. This is really stupid, I thought.
I was wasting time with these idiots—time that I could have spent looking for the madman. Ignoring everyone else, I glanced down at my numb fingers, inhaling in cold air, as I flexed my fingers around. For quite some time now, I had been losing feeling of all the limbs on my body. It was this foul air, this bad weather, and this unending night, that were causing me this misery. The true enemy on this planet was this blizzard, and if we continued to venture through this weather, we would all perish long before we reach the lunatic’s hideout.
“Enough of this,” I screamed, moving between them, stopping their blades with my bare hands. “Please stop this, Mrs. Craft, or I will be forced to intervene on her behalf. You have wasted most of our time, so if you don’t mind, we will be taking our leave. You are more than welcome to come with us, if you want, but do not get in our way, I beg of you.”
“You are brave,” Mrs. Craft pointed out, drawing her blade out of my bleeding hand, as she looked at me with fascination. “I have seen a lot of men cower away from the sheer might of my blade, but not you, Rave. When this situation is straightened out, would you be interested in joining our ranks? To become a member of the Vandrel Guards is a great honor indeed, so what do you say?”
“Thanks for the offer; however, I already have a job,” I replied, releasing my other hand from Salyanna’s blade, the pain intolerable. “She is not your enemy; your true enemies are the creatures lurking in these woods and this cold, unending weather.”
For the next twenty minutes, I told them everything that had happened to me since arriving on this planet, skipping out on the part about the whole town helping the madman, in attempt to get a bit of leniency for them. I didn’t really care for them, but for some reason, I felt a tiny bit of compassion for the children trapped on this miserable rubble of rock. After I was done, Mrs. Craft and her soldiers shifted out of hearing range, to go over all of the facts I had explained to them, as they tried to come to a mutual agreement.
“The cannon fire stopped, several minutes ago,” Salyanna murmured to me, turning towards the direction of the outpost. “They must have gotten Cleiver.”
“Yeah, he is probably dead,” I replied, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a cloth, and wrapping it around my bleeding wrist. “His fate was inevitable.”
&nb
sp; “Why do you always do that?” she screamed at me, raising her voice. “Why do you always say such cold words all of the time? Don’t you feel any compassion, love, or remorse?”
“No, I don’t,” I turned away from her, unfazed by any of her questions. “There are just some people without hearts in this universe—people like me, Salyanna.”
At the moment, Mrs. Craft and her ten soldiers returned to us, gun holstered up, and stopped within a few meters from us, in silence. Mrs. Craft, squeaking her boots in the snow, tramped forward towards us, and halted within inches from Salyanna. Her visor reflected the chimera girl’s face, and it unnerved Salyanna deeply. She held her breath, placing the tip of her fingers on the butt of her rifle, taking one step back. There was a lot tension between them, I noticed, and it was it boiling up to epic proportions.
“Very well, we shall assist you in this quest of yours,” Mrs. Craft said, before turning around, her cape dancing in the blizzard wind, and returning to her men.