His wounds had already begun to heal, and his mental energy had recovered. His nerves and muscles returned to working order. The first sensation to wash over him was a burning thirst, for it’d been two whole days since he’d had a sip of water.
The thirst didn’t bother him, but the soldiers had been busily searching for more than a day without rest. They were certainly worse off.
Cloudhawk shook himself, causing his cloak to flutter and dust to fall in clouds. He slipped from his hiding place to the rocks below and, without stopping, disappeared into the night like a bat.
A few moments later, two Skycloud soldiers drew near. Both looked dejected and short of temper.
The shorter one muttered from behind his companion, “We’ve searched this area a dozen times. The traitor has to be miles away by now. There’s no way he’s going to show up here, and you know I’m right.”
The taller one grunted, “Twenty hours and we’ve seen neither hide nor hair of’m. He has probably escaped. We’ve been with the army for a year and then THIS is our first mission? Ugh.”
“This damn traitor is an embarrassment to all of us!” The smaller one was visibly angry by this point. “I fought for a posting to this wastelands mission. This was my chance to really prove myself. My girl’s mother was going to have no choice but to let me marry her daughter.”
The taller one cast a glance towards his short and scrawny compatriot. “She’s the prettiest girl in our whole town. What made you think she had any interest in you, anyway? I’m taller and better-looking than you are. She’d be much more interested in me!”
Cloudhawk hung overhead with a large rock clutched in his hands. He blended in perfectly, almost impossible to notice even as the two soldiers walked and chatted directly below. His body went taut, and he slowly pulled the dagger from his belt with the soldiers below being none the wiser.
The shorter one held his glaive in front of him, hands tight on the shaft. The other one held his bow ready, alert. They’d passed this area several times, but they were still cautious. They might have been muttering to one another, but their attention was still on the mission.
The small one passed by below. Cloudhawk could have reached out and slit his throat, but he didn’t. While the shorter one would be dealt with, Cloudhawk would be exposed to the bigger one behind. His enemies were strong, and he couldn’t risk it.
The short one chuckled tauntingly as they meandered by, “You keep your distance from my girl, you pervert! I swear on my honor as a soldier that I’m going to marry that woman and make her happy!”
The tall one passed below.
Cloudhawk burst into action, dropping down on him and clamping his mouth shut with his left hand. The dagger in his right slipped through the soldier’s plate armor and dug into his heart, forcing his body to instantly go rigid. Instantly, all of his vitality ceased, leaving him no energy to struggle. He couldn’t even warn his friend.
The shorter one was expecting a retort from his friend, and when one didn’t come, he grew suspicious. When he turned, he was met with a face full of coarse yellow sand that tightened around his throat like a ribbon. He was pulled to the ground completely caught off guard.
However, he was quick to react.
The short soldier used his wide blade to cut himself free when two flashes of cold light appeared from outside the screen of sand. A pair of thrown daggers was headed his way. Skycloud armor was more than capable of protecting him, but he instinctively waved his weapon to knock them away regardless.
While he was busy protecting himself from the sneak attack, a dark figure descended on him like an eagle. Cloudhawk descended through the pervasive sands like a specter. His knee connected with the only part of the soldier’s head not protected by the helmet: his jaw. For the short man, the world suddenly started to spin as he spun through the air. Ruins overturned in his vision until he hit the ground with a bone-crunching thud.
Cloudhawk was right behind him and stepped on the soldier’s right hand with his left foot before he could lift it in defense. With his right foot, Cloudhawk stomped on his elbow. Skycloud armor protected them from blunt force trauma but only up to a point. Crack! The soldier’s right arm folded at an unnatural angle.
Before he could even think to scream, the traitor’s knife was at his throat.
He was too fast! So quick and brutal!
His right arm was useless. All he could do was stare at the masked stranger crouched over him. Now he could see how this turncoat could have defeated the two demon hunters. He was a terrifying opponent!
At this moment, the soldier didn’t feel fear. His mind immediately conjured the memory of a bashful face, a beautiful figure… the girl he would never have.
“If you want to survive this encounter, you’re going to behave. I ask the questions. You answer.” To emphasize the gravity of the situation, Cloudhawk pressed the dagger harder against the soldier’s neck. The knife had already begun to slice through the top layers of his rough skin. “Where are you from? And what is your purpose in the wastelands? Why are you trying to kill me?”
The soldier was young, maybe eighteen. Undoubtedly a new recruit. His face was drenched in sweat, most likely from the pain of having his arm broken. Even so, he glared at his assailant without fear. There was only loathing, scorn, and provocation.
Cloudhawk responded to the soldier’s hostility with a scowl of his own, and his words came out as a growl, “I was listening to what you were saying. I can spare your life, let you go back to the woman you love. All you have to do is answer my questions. I am not one to lie. I swear to you.”
“You think you can threaten me?! Not a chance! You insult me.” The young soldier looked over at his friend, whose blank eyes stared unblinkingly at the dirt. The sight seemed to enrage him further. “My blood, my flesh, my life itself, has always been devoted to the gods. I would rather die in defense of their holy names than live with the shame of being a traitor. You, who cavorts with blasphemers… I don’t expect a defector like you to understand.”
Like a mad mongrel, the young soldier jerked upward into Cloudhawk’s dagger. With his left hand, he dragged the weapon across his own throat. Cloudhawk was taken by surprise and could do nothing but watch.
The short man clambered to his feet with blood pouring from his throat. He fumbled through his pocket for a bead, and, with the strength left to him, threw it high overhead. A second later, the sky was split by a dazzling beam of light.
Almighty gods…
Please bless her…
Bring her a life of happiness!
The young soldier’s eyes blazed with the light of zealous faith. He turned his gaze to the heavens, towards the dazzling light that was brief but brilliant, just like his short life. He did not surrender. He maintained his faith. He would die with a clear conscience, just the sort of man she would have wanted.
Cloudhawk watched him collapse to the ground and then stared at the bloodstained dagger in his hand. It surprised him that a common soldier would so desperately refuse to surrender. The man hadn’t hesitated to give up his own life for what he saw as honor.
Was this what the holy city was? Was this the grace that blanketed the Elysians?
Cloudhawk was once again shocked by what he learned about these believers. Every time he thought he understood them, they showed him something new.
142 Leaving Forever
Cloudhawk didn’t get all of the answers he sought, but the soldier indirectly revealed something important. He was considered a traitor for living among blasphemers.
He understood being labeled a traitor. These visitors from the holy city assumed he was a demon hunter. “Blasphemers” must mean the Seekers who dabbled in old technology, something they considered to be sinful. Excavating and using these tainted things was, to them, an unforgivable slight.
The “blasphemers” Cloudhawk was supposedly in league with had to be the Seekers from Blackwater Base. Was that their target? Had they already been there? Was
Hellflower alright?!
Cloudhawk had played a tiny part in something much bigger, and they’d still sent two demon hunters and a hundred soldiers to track him down. Cloudhawk didn’t want to imagine what had befallen the base nor was now the time. The young soldier, in his dying moments, had given him away to the others. His compatriots would be here soon.
“I’m sorry.” Cloudhawk looked to the two dead soldiers in silence for a moment and then began to strip them of their equipment. Luckily, the smaller guard had been roughly Cloudhawk’s size. However, he was stockier so his armor didn’t fit perfectly when Cloudhawk slipped it on. Strangely, after Cloudhawk put on the last piece, the armor began to reform itself with a series of clicks and snaps. Afterwards, it fit snuggly around his person, almost as if it’d been tailor-made for him!
As he was moving the bodies to hide them, a slip of paper fell out of one of their clothes. Cloudhawk picked it up and gingerly unfolded it. Drawn in luminous paint was the image of a girl. She was dainty, delicate, and beautiful with flowers all over her body. The painting released a pleasing scent, and though it was only a picture, it was as detailed as though she were right there before him.
On the left side, something was scribbled: For my love.
It was a present, one the young soldier would never give. Cloudhawk felt conflicted by this discovery.
When the girl discovered that her lover was dead, she would certainly be sad. She would be yet another person who would hate Cloudhawk for the rest of her life. It brought a bitter smirk to Cloudhawk’s face. Something else for me to bear. Another person’s hatred to add to the countless others. The number with grievances against him only seemed to grow with time. But what could he do? He was just a minor figure, one who only wanted to live. That was all he wanted!
But, there was no such thing as a minor figure in this world, not really. Strong or weak was only determined by comparison. To lovers, family, and friends, even the smallest person was a giant. When such a giant fell, all the world they held on their shoulders fell with them.
Cloudhawk pocketed the picture and then dealt with the bodies. Shortly after, the sounds of footsteps preceded the arrival of two soldiers who had seen the flare. They spotted Cloudhawk’s bloodstained armor before noting his face. It was too dark to make out anything else. “What’s going on? Where’s the traitor?!”
“Right here!” When they got close enough, he buried a pair of daggers in their throats. Their deaths were quick and uneventful, and suddenly, there were two more corpses to hide. He looked over their twitching bodies blankly.
Since when had his heart become so numb? He remembered the grief he’d felt the first time he killed another human. Now, it felt so natural…
He was disgusted with the change he saw in himself. Only, they were changes that ensured he stayed alive. Perhaps everyone who survived out here turned into something despicable.
Several minutes later, Captain Brontes arrived at where the flare had gone up. The first thing he saw was the corpses, neatly lined up on the ground, nine of them in total. All of them were his soldiers. Anger flooded him, making him tremble. “What is this?! Can someone explain to me how these soldiers were all killed so easily!?”
One of his subordinates approached and gave the report, “They all seem to have been caught by sneak attacks. I’m almost certain the traitor is disguised as one of us and attacked our people while their guard was down. It’s the only way he could have killed so many.”
Captain Brontes’s hands were curled into white-knuckled fists.
The turncoat had been struck by Mistress Claudia’s exorcist rod. That they knew. He’d never heard of anyone being able to take such a blow and keep fighting so vigorously. This scum wasn’t strong, but he was an adept scoundrel – there wasn’t an ounce of honor in him, no line he wouldn’t cross. His main tactic was to attack from the shadows, and Brontes' men were dying because they were unprepared.
“If he is dressed like us, we can’t know if he’s still here or not. Should we keep searching?”
Captain Brontes shut his eyes in frustration. Skycloud’s soldiers were not pushovers. Their target shouldn’t be able to completely escape detection or injury, even if he relied on underhanded tactics. There had to be something special about him. He had to be more than just a simple renegade, and he also couldn’t have been as injured as they thought. Brontes’s people were tired. If they continued the search under these conditions, it would only lead to more deaths.
“Return to the outpost!”
“Huh? Why?!”
Captain Brontes's eyes popped open. He gave the impression of a desperate gambler going for broke. “Do you remember what Master Raith did to draw him out? The traitor is obviously fond of those despicable worms. If we go back and exterminate them, maybe we can flush him out of hiding!”
Cloudhawk was lurking nearby. When he heard the man’s plan, his face fell. This was bad. He didn’t have any particular affection towards Lighthouse Point, but he was tired of all the death.
Killing. It was the choice of the weak and pitiful. It was the most final means of dealing with a problem as well as the most lamentable.
Cloudhawk didn’t even think. He simply vanished into the night. He wasn’t going to give his life to save Lighthouse Point, but, to the best of his ability, he was going to save as many as he could from pointless tragedy.
He reached the outpost before the soldiers did, and when he got there, the scene shocked him.
The small, quiet community had changed beyond recognition. The central lighthouse was in ruins. Homes were ablaze. Everything was in chaos and blanketed in a haze of acrid smoke.
“Y-You… what are you doing back here!?”
“Haven’t we suffered enough?!”
Cloudhawk’s wounds had not entirely healed, and his hasty return left him both tired and weak. When the citizens of the outpost saw him, they were angry and frightened. They stared with wide eyes as he entered.
“What happened here?” Cloudhawk propped himself up with the help of the sturdy Skycloud weapon he’d stolen. He tried to speak with some authority, “Where is Coppertooth?”
“Coppertooth? He deceived us!”
“The Elysians are nothing but brutal demons!”
“Convincing us to worship those animals… he deserved a far worse death than he got!”
It was then that Cloudhawk lifted his head. He was dismayed to see the corpse dangling from the lighthouse’s ruins. It was none other than the honest, kind, and cunning Skycloud veteran. He’d been terribly injured by the soldiers, but since then, something even more terrible had happened. There wasn’t an inch of him left untouched. His body was covered in burn marks. He hung from the lighthouse by his neck, swinging sorrowfully in the breeze.
No one knew his real name. They only knew what he’d been called: Coppertooth. He’d been their leader, the one who had brought them faith and safety. In the end, it was his own people who brutalized him, tortured him, and hung him from the building that had once signified their undying faith.
“You aren’t welcome here!”
“Get the fuck out of here! Leave, as fast as you can!”
A group of young agitators had gathered around. Anger had clouded their minds, and they brandished crude weapons with the intent of using them on Cloudhawk.
“All of you calm the hell down!” All manner of bitter emotions raged within Cloudhawk, especially once he saw what had become of Coppertooth. He hated them for what they had done, but he forced the words out through gritted teeth, “It’s done! Your hatred isn’t going to change anything, and right now, those soldiers are coming back to finish the job. If you want to live, get the hell out of this place!”
Thud-thud!
Two arrows sprouted from Cloudhawk’s body. The arrows might have done him in if not for the armor he’d pilfered. The sneak attack was like a call to arms, and all of a sudden, the crowd was charging at him with their crude weapons.
He was cast from the tow
n, pummeled by the angry masses the whole way, their faces twisted with despair and anger. They’d beaten him black and blue even through the armor.
At that moment, something in his heart died.
Out in the desert, he turned back to stare at the burning remains of Lighthouse Point. Orange flames and belching black clouds rose over it, a haunting image. The heat made the air twist around it like something evil had taken hold. He wiped the blood from his face and stared with fists shaking at his side. Then, he turned and prepared to leave.
“S-sir… sir!”
He turned back to see a bit of rock being pushed aside from the outpost’s walls. A small figure, small, frail, and covered in filth, slipped out of the hiding place. A girl.
“Asha?”
“Coppertooth is dead. Everyone went crazy, so I hid in the tunnels. I’ve been too scared to go out all day.”
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll take you away from here.”
The two of them trudged into the distance, eventually disappearing across the horizon.
That night, Cloudhawk and Asha camped at the top of a tall set of ruins. Looking back towards Lighthouse Point, they could still see the smoke and fire even from this distance. Sometimes, when the wind turned, they thought they could hear screams. The stench of blood was unmistakable.
Cloudhawk tenderly rested his hand on the girl’s head. “Do you hate me?”
However, Asha looked at him and shook her head. “I hate this world.”
Could Cloudhawk say he never felt the same? But now, his time in this world was coming to an end!
They were close to the Elysian lands now.
Asha looked at him in curiosity. “Where will we go now?”
“Somewhere far, far away.” He looked back at her. “We’re going to leave this place. We’re going to leave it and never, ever come back.”
Epilogue: Failure
Lighthouse Point had been reduced to rubble. Skycloud soldiers, their resplendent armor covered in gore and their weapons dripping blood, stalked through the smoldering carnage. The sick smell of blood and rot filled the air. The soil was all stained red.
The Wastelander Page 97
