A man with the body of someone in their mid-twenties was scrubbing the top of the front counter, humming to himself. He had a unique marking of a crescent gold moon on the right front side of his neck. He had naturally curly, brown hair, being so dark that it almost seemed black, and river-blue eyes, a mustache, and a full goatee over his white Sacred Markings.
Jet’s eyes flickered right to left, eyeing jewelry after jewelry. He soon felt something pull his gaze to the bottom shelf inside the front counter. Despite their being quite a lot of gifts to choose from, Jet’s attentive gaze seemed glued on one item. It wasn’t the best of the litter—in fact, the outer appearance paled in comparison to almost every other—but his gaze still remained on that one necklace.
Almost instantly Gabriel’s words seemed so wise. Were his feelings telling him he needed to buy that item? Jet kneeled down in front of the front counter. He dared not take his eyes off the necklace, believing in the strong feelings he had encountered.
The cashier stopped his humming, his washcloth coming to a slow as he caught a glimpse of the boy’s fixation. His lips rose to a smile. “Well, I’ll be…” he murmured to himself, smiling slightly. He leaned over and spoke to the transfixed boy. “You have a good eye to come to this one.” The boy had kept his gaze glued to the accessory, earning a chuckle from the cashier. “One of the Crosses of Conscious—Legend says that this jewel was forged by a powerful black smith as a promise to the first Princess of Nebulan.”
This time, Jet looked up at the cashier. “A promise?” That sounded eerily familiar. “What did he promise to her?”
The man smiled as he saw the boy’s interest in the story. “Well, you see, most people don’t know—the only exception is the Royals.”
Jet frowned. “Oh…”
The cashier smiled softly, offering his hand. “Name’s Jacob.”
Jet slowly reached for another hand, praying the wielder of this one wasn’t about to speak riddles as well. “Jet.”
“Do you really want to know the story?”
Jet’s eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and delight. “You mean you know it?” he chirped in excitement.
Jacob nodded as he hunched down to pick the necklace up. “You see, kid, I was given the Gift of Prophesy,” he explained, pulling the silver necklace out of the glass frame. “This Gift allows me to dream of the story behind any object I touch.”
Jet watched as Jacob closed his eyes and clutched on to the necklace. His eyes were still drawn to the magnetic pull, being glued in anticipation on the object Jacob held.
Audible visions flashed in Jacob’s mind; he heard and saw the sound of hooves, horse cries, citizens in a rage, the cry of the princess, the clanging of a talented blacksmith and craftsman at work, and a sweet promise made by two Nebulanians in love.
His lips curved into a soft smile. “Ah, now I remember.” He breathed peacefully as he opened his eyes, looking to the necklace and back to the impatient gaze of Jet’s. “The foreigner and the princess were always pulled apart by the villagers. The princess was scared that the foreigner would leave her because of this uproar in the kingdom, so the blacksmith created two silver cross necklaces.
“Each was placed around their necks. The promise was that no matter what force was against them, their lives would never be severed from each other.”
Jet gave an awestruck stare. The legend sounded so much like the conflict he was having with Crystal. He didn’t even have to think twice. “Sold!” he said hastily, then realized something he hadn’t before. “But…where’s the other one?”
The cashier frowned. “We don’t know. Many who know the legend say it went with its owner.” Jet hung his head in defeat. “I see…” It seemed that even if he did give the necklace to her, it wouldn’t be a complete promise.
But still, Jet couldn’t help feeling this was meant to be—that he was meant to buy the necklace for her.
Jet gave a weak smile. Now came the difficult part. “How much?”
Jacob gave a bright smile, relieved that he hadn’t upset his customer. “It’s for free,” he replied as he placed it in Jet’s hand wholeheartedly.
Jet’s eyes widened with joy. “Really?” he asked hopefully, praying that he wasn’t just hearing things.
Jacob gave a nod and began placing the necklace in a small, black jewelry box. “Here you are,” he said as he placed the box in the boy’s hands.
Jet narrowed his eyes, looking down at the box. “Wait…what’s the catch?”
The cashier laughed. “No catch here.”
Now Jet was puzzled. If it was so special, why was he giving it to him for nothing in return? After some time had gone by, Jet raised his head back up and spoke. “Then why, on Nebulan, are you giving it to me for free?” he asked, feeling dumbfounded by this generosity.
Jacob’s usual carefree aura altered to a serious one. “Because…I feel as if I should. I can’t explain why, but I feel as if it were meant for you.”
Jet’s eyes widened at the cashier’s remarks. Jacob had been saying exactly what he was experiencing. The demand for his attention from the necklace had not faded; rather, it had only grown stronger.
Jet gave a slight bow of appreciation. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me." He smiled brightly, placing the little box in his pocket as he turned and began his walk toward the door.
Jet’s joy wasn’t meant to last. His smile fell as the air around him changed drastically. He felt the pleasantries of the shop fade. His skin began to crawl, and he itched in every place imaginable. His heart raced with what could only be described as fear.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Something was wrong, but what? There was no doubt in his mind he was afraid…but just what exactly was he afraid of? His cautious gaze glued to the exit to the shop. Something’s out there.
Not a minute after scrutinizing the door did it burst into thousands of shards. The object responsible for such damage flew toward Jet, knocking him off his feet, causing Jet to grunt with surprise.
Jet opened his eyes, staring at the object that had knocked him over. His eyes grew wide as he observed its appearance.
There on top of him laid an injured pup. The pup had dark-blue fur; a bushy, gray tail; pointy, gray ears; golden-yellow eyes; and white paws.
What astonished Jet the most was that on its forehead was a yellow star. Jet halfway picked himself up from the floor, the breathing creature now lying in his lap. “War…pup?” he questioned in both an incredulous and awestruck tone.
It couldn’t be… Warpup was just in a dream, right? That’s it! It’s all just a dream! That would explain so much—the empty market, the crazy Gabriel, the free legendary necklace, and the pup.
Still, if it were a dream, this had probably been the most elaborate—not to mention most realistic—dream he had ever experienced.
“Are you okay?” came Jacob’s cry from behind as he ran toward the two.
A voice then erupted from outside the doors. The voice was cold and sinister and caused the hairs on the back of Jet’s neck to stand up. “No, he isn’t,” it laughed in a malicious growl.
Their gaze shifted to the short silhouette, its gleaming violet slits for eyes glaring at Jet. “Only the Chosen of Salvation knows who Warpup is!” It squealed with a child-like voice—a far contrast from its previous blood thirst. “It’s so good to see you in one piece. Now I get to...” its voice altered back to a blood-lustful snarl, “...rip you apart myself!”
Jacob glared at the shadowed being. “They’re here,” he whispered to himself, and before Jet could even inquire about his comment, Jacob ran to his office, shouting, “I’ll be back!”
Jet crawled farther back from the door as fear struck him. Just what was going on now? Did Jacob just leave him to die? Yet he said he’d be back, didn’t he?
Now more than ever, Jet wished this was a dream and that he would wake from it soon.
“W-Who are you?” Jet sputtered, failing in his attempts
to veil his trepidation. “What do you want with me?” he asked in a quaky voice as he scooted farther back. He paused as he remembered the title the creature used to address him. “Wait. What’s a 'Chosen of Salvation?'” he recited curiously.
The beast walked inside the store, revealing its figure. It had narrow, purple eyes and wild, dark-green hair. It was short—half-Jet’s size, even—but its size did little to remove Jet from his terror, for the creature had long and sharp fangs.
Its skin was a light-ivy green, and little, black thorns were sprouting from it, plus it had long and sharp fingernails like claws from a beast. “Don’t play stupid with me, boy!” It screeched maliciously.
Jet’s eyes widened at the figure’s grotesque image. Never before had he experienced such a fear. Just looking into its malevolent eyes almost paralyzed him on the spot. What was this thing? A beast? A demon? Or…
Jet placed the battered pup beside him, summoning the utmost courage to stand to his feet and face such a terror. “Y-You’re a Dark Demon, right?”
Jet felt like such a fool. What could he possibly accomplish by standing against a beast like that? Despite those who insisted he had power dormant inside him, Electro had crushed him so easily. If he could not beat a classmate, how could he possibly beat this creature?
If he really was destined to fight such demonic beings, he was doomed. He had been told he had power sleeping in him. If that was so, then why couldn’t he wake it? It wasn’t sleeping—it was in a coma! His distressed contemplation ended as he heard the voice of the creature.
“My name’s Gabren!” it chirped as it moved to the center of the shop, its eyes gleaming with malice. It arched one of its arms back. “And I’ll be your killer for today!” it snarled as it released its arched arm. The arm, while being swung, extended into a green ivy whip.
Jet, despite his paralysis of fear, ducked right in time to have the spiked whip collide into one of the frames of the attachable shelves. The glass, as if alive, made a bloodcurdling cry as it shattered into tiny shards. These shards flew apart in what seemed like blind vengeance—a torrent of them charging toward Jet’s face.
Jet reacted to the incoming shards poorly. Instead of dodging the oncoming fragments, he curled his arms in front of his face. One large piece of glass succeeded in its pursuit of revenge as it stabbed into the flesh of Jet’s arm. Jet let out a horrible scream as he felt the edge of glass embed itself inside his skin.
Jet’s blood began to ooze from the opened flesh, the blood trickling against the clear glass as Jet hunched over in agony, then fell backward into a sitting position, his back resting against the front counter. Clueless on how to fix such a wound, Jet clutched his arm tightly, his teeth clinched together. The excruciating pain was almost too much to bear.
Should I pull it out? Won't that just make me lose more blood? Although, leaving it in didn’t seem too beneficial, either.
Gabren chuckled in utter amusement. Murdor and Kila had told him not to underestimate The Chosen of Salvation—or rather the Anointed. And he hadn’t planned on underrating the boy.
But to think someone said to be so mighty could be beaten by one piece of glass. How pathetic! The Anointed was nothing more than a joke. This was going to be a piece of cake. “If glass is enough of an opponent for you,” he said while Jet watched helplessly as the beast pulled his arm over his head, “then you’re wasting your time.”
Gabren smirked. “The way I see it, I’m doing you a favor. The death I’m about to give you is one of mercy compared to the brothers’ methods.”
Jet’s eyes closed in defeat. There was just no way. It all had to be a big misunderstanding. How could anyone see him stand against these beings?
Jet had to face reality. He was a failure. Even now, he wasn’t fulfilling his purpose. It had only taken a shard of glass to take him down. How weak!
“Rest in peace, Chosen!”
Jet dared not open his eyes as he heard the whip come for him. But then he heard an animal snarl, followed by a cry from Gabren.
Curious to the unexpected mixture of sounds, Jet opened his eyes. His gaze glued to the mid-air pup. The pup’s fangs had penetrated the incoming ivy whip, sinking into the demon's skin.
Blood spurted from the demon’s whip-like arm, staining the pup’s fangs with its purple blood. Gabren’s cry evolved into a screech as it tried to yank its arm out of the pup's mouth, but Warpup’s jaw was clenched shut on it. The pup dangled in the air as its penetrating fangs scraped a new spot by the use of its weight.
The Dark Demon then used its free arm, transforming it and swinging it to whip at the pup.
The pup only gave a small cry and sunk its teeth deeper into the demon with every lash it felt from the ivy whip.
Gabren shrieked in agony as the tips of the pup’s fangs sunk in deeper. “You little mongrel!” Gabren squealed as he flailed the pup around with his wounded arm. “How dare you interfere with my prey!” He clinched his teeth tightly shut as the pups fangs scraped against his raw flesh. “You meddlesome mutt!” he growled, then hollered, "Let me go!” as he slammed the pup into the remaining glass frames, the pup letting out a loud whimper as it was crushed between crashing glass and Gabren’s whip, thus releasing its hold.
Jet—finally escaping his awestruck daze—watched in horror as the pup fell limply to the ground. Warpup!
Out of innate reaction, Jet began a slow crawl toward the pup, biting his lip continuously as his wound repeatedly screamed in defiance with every stretch.
The pup’s fur was stained red by its blood, its body having been battered from the merciless thrashings it had endured. In some of the wounds, fragments of glass were protruding—four in its back and four in its ribs. The sight was horrific.
Jet, fighting through his pain, called to the pup. “Warpup!” he beckoned. “Warpup, are you okay?” Jet’s heart raced as a time of silence passed. Was he too late? Is Warpup really…
“Warpup! Answer me!”
Jet only recalled the presence of the demon after hearing its wicked chuckle from behind him. He looked back slightly to see Gabren had transformed one of its arms and began encircling that ivy whip around one of the glass-frame tables beside him.
Gabren hoisted the table above its head, ready to smash Jet like a flyswatter to a bug. Jet responded by facing away and placing his palms on the wall, protecting the pup as best he could from the attack. He smiled. Now this was a good way to die.
“This is where it ends.” Gabren chuckled as it arched its whip-like arm further back.
The box containing the necklace seemed to bulge in rebellion, and Jet reached in his pocket to clutch it tightly as he thought of his one regret. I’m sorry, Crystal. I’ve always loved you.
Midway from crushing the pathetic Chosen, the sound of gunfire echoed through the room. A millisecond after that sound, Gabren felt a bullet skim past his outstretched stomach, drawing purple blood from its scrape.
He lost his grip on the table, squealing in both surprise and pain. The demon clenched his teeth together as the table of glass made a deafening crash. “That bullet…” he whispered through grinding teeth. Gabren's gaze turned to Jacob, who was standing behind the desk, now holding a ruby-red sniper gun. “A Celestial Arm,” he growled in resentment.
Jacob glared at the demon. “That’s right. Leave now. Else, I assure you...” He cocked his gun, ready to fire again if need be. “The next one won’t miss.”
Gabren wisely fled the area—getting shot wasn’t part of the plan after all. Having expended his chance of getting to kill the Chosen himself, the demon had only one more objective left: tail Jet. He put as much distance between them as his senses would allow before following Jet silently in the shadows of the moonlit forest. It had taken awhile for that worm to come out from the shop.
The man with a Celestial Arm finished putting a gray, long-sleeved jacket on Jet, attempting to cover the bandage wrapped around the gash on his arm. How Gabren wished he could go back in time—to
see and hear the cries of that weakling as Jacob removed the embedded glass. Now that would've been amusing.
Jet’s protector began to speak. “Are you certain you won’t need an escort?” Jacob pressed for the third time. “Gabren could come back at any moment.”
As a sane Nebulanian should, Jet had to reflect once more on that offer. After a long pause, Jet shook his head gently, regretfully. “It would look suspicious. I want to keep my family out of this as best I can. They mustn’t know.”
That arrogant piece of... If Gabren hadn’t been given direct orders not to initiate an attack this go round, he’d prove underestimation as the Chosen’s fatal mistake.
Alas, he was only to follow, not to fight.
“What about the pup? I could carry him for you,” Jacob practically begged.
The boy shook his head yet again. “I’m fine carrying him. That anesthetic you gave both of us will last long enough to make it home. I appreciate your concern, but we’ll be fine.”
Jet offered the man a smile of gratitude. “I appreciate all you’ve done. You saved my life, and I won’t forget that. Thank you so much.”
Jacob let a sigh escape from his lips. “Well, it looks like nothing will change your mind on this,” he said resentfully. “Just promise you’ll head straight home.”
Jet gave a nod. “Promise. Gabren just took me by surprise. I’ll be ready this time around.”
Again, Gabren wanted to wring that little neck. Apparently, Jet had yet to understand the horror that lay in store for him. But Gabren need not worry; that pipsqueak would see the truth soon enough.
The walk home was indeed a long one for Jet. His head was about to split apart at all the questions swarming inside.
Jacob had tended to Jet’s wounds by use of a health kit he kept in his office. Jacob walked with Jet to his office and explained that his real alliance lay in a group called the Demon Fighters, and what seemed like abandoning Jet was actually his attempt to find his weaponry to help.
Jet accepted his apology. After all, Jacob had saved his life. Jet figured that was enough compensation.
Still, there were so many questions unanswered. What exactly were the Dark Demons? How was it that he’s never heard of the Demon Fighters? Why did Gabren keep addressing him as the Chosen of Salvation? Wasn’t he the Anointed? What did those titles mean, anyway? Just what role was he to take?