by Harlon Banks
"Melissa Ylrah wins in a surprising last second domination. The next match is Jonath versus Kelgard." Dast's next words shut off any sort of praise or questions the amnesic planned on giving Melissa... It was his turn. Melissa gave him the thumbs up, Jonath turning to see his opponent calmly stepping into the ring to begin.
Time's up Jonath, time to show what you can do...
A/N - To explain how Melissa defeated Wrain without awkward exposition tossed into the chapter. Melissa left eye has the ability to not only allow her to traverse limbo to attack, but also 'project' physical imagery of herself within her line of sight to throw off her opponents (these images are made of her aura which activated the Wrain's own auroral bounded fields stimuli). She effectively lulled Wrain into anticipating her real self attacking him every time she disappeared and on the last try, projected an image of herself attacking Wrain from behind so he'd turn and defend himself while the real her appeared and hit him directly from the front. Hope that explanation is enough!
A Wanderer's Vendetta
A/N - Sorry about the wait guys! I really appreciate the readers who not only have read this far, but also took kindly to my sudden delays when I have had them. It's highly appreciated! Regardless, here we are with the newest chapter. Hope you enjoy it.
The Challenger Chapter Thirty-One - A Wanderer's Vendetta
Hoot! Hoot! Hoot!
The moon sits in the sky, forever watching the land below, shrouded in a veil of its eternal light as a large, black owl sits beside Liariana atop the railing of a towering buildings rooftop. The lonely woman sitting parallel along the stone edge of the roofs railing with powerfully shaded red eyes staring skyward across solemn, pale features. The gentle night winds blowing her mid-length, black hair across flawless skin as a soft exhale left her lips.
"If you kill me they'll come for you! They'll kill you!" Draven's pleading sobs played like a broken record in her thoughts.
Liariana's face marred itself with an irritated scowl, fingers curling inwards across the fabric of her dark pants in frustration. She had fled from the East to escape her past, yet despite being hundreds of miles away from home, her past never felt closer. They'll be coming for her, she knew it. Her left hand, wrapped in tattered and singed black bandages, raised up to eye level; fingers from the base up exposed and flexed open as she stared into her palm in hard thought. The memory of the fight with Jonath, her usage of the black flames painted itself vividly across the back of her eyes as they closed. To think that she betrayed her own conviction in that moment.. was she really so weak? So unresolved?
The fact that she even went that far against him sickened her, a random Nightborn, capable of going toe to toe with her. Had she really been that inadequate in her skills? No, she had dominated that fight, she was sure of it. He had no skill, his body felt as if it moved off raw instinct every time he countered her blows. Still, even that didn't bother her as much as...
"Those eyes of yours are the Veralen aren't they? The 'Cursed Eyes' are they not?"
Remembering the phrase 'cursed eyes' from the man she killed stirred up even further unwanted emotions within. She hated that phrase, she hated her own powers. Every time she thought about them, she was reminded of that terrible, terrible person. From fighting Jonath, to killing Draven, everything then was just a constant reminder of her own flaws.
A reminder of her own existence she despised...
"To think the women who despises her bloodline the most, possesses one of the most sinister curses tied to her lineage. Isn't irony grand? To have a most malicious ability along with those ominous eyes of yours, and you never wanted to be a Yelkath to begin with." that irritating feminine voice rang inside her head tauntingly. Every word was a blatant mockery to her, she despised everything about that voice.
Liariana grit her teeth as she lowered her head, and pressed her face into her bandaged hands in silence. Black bangs of hair shrouding her visage from the outside world. She was getting a headache now...
"The more you use your powers, the more hypocritical you become. Just admit it, you like the strength, don't you little Izu? You like being the predator and not the prey, don't you? Hehehehe..."
"C'mon, stop being so scared and just give in to the bloodthirst..."
"..." The Yelkath breathed out, lifting her head again with a cold, monotone expression that turned skyward to the large, full moon Tha never moved above.
The avian creature some distance away hooting a few more times before spreading robust wings, and going off into the night for the hunt. Eerie glowing hues watching the bird disappear into the forever dark skies above before her gaze wandered over to the buildings at the highest reaches of the city. The Diurnal District...
The common black bell boomed out again from the reaches of the Diurnal, its sound booming, rhythmic, and thunderous to all around.
Did Draven know someone from that section of the city to hunt down Liariana should she ever kill him? Whatever the case, she had to keep on the move. Having abandoned the apartment given to her by the greedy man as soon as she had arrived back to the city, and dropping off the artifact to Wren shortly afterwards. It was unwise to hold on to such a treasure and get hunted by both Draven's associates and the Archive Group. A soft, tired and weary exhale from the young woman's lips, and she lifted herself off the edge of the roof and planted open toed black shoes firmly on the stone.
The bell stopped ringing, it was time to keep moving. Staying out in the open was dangerous.
Scooping off the ground beside her a small satchel filled with a bit of food, some medical supplies and a few other miscellaneous things Draven had supplied her, Liariana slung it securely over her shoulder. Bandaged left hand reaching down again to retrieve her ninjato blade and secure it to the small of her back via leather strap and sheath, the hilt protruding from on her dominant left side. Walking away to descend the building in silence after tossing her deactivated smart phone over the edge of the roof to smash across the pavement below. No use keeping anything that could be tracked from Draven. During their brief transaction Liariana did sense something from the man who made her wary; the way he looked and spoke to her gave the impression he didn't believe Jonath were dead.
Oh well, what he thought didn't matter to her. She was positive the Nightborn had died, if he didn't? She'd find and kill him to keep her secrets. However now wasn't the time to think about irrelevant what ifs. She had other things more pressing to worry about such as how she planned to survive without her powers.
What she hated the most about this city, were the nullification towers at each corner. These abominations severely dampening the powers of any Nightborn within the city walls to keep chaos from overtaking everything built. It was a bitter-sweet thing to deal with, she couldn't properly defend herself to the best of her ability if she were attacked, but at the same time it guaranteed less hassle should she be ambushed. She needed to do more than just hide and wait to be attacked, but at the same time to just blindly go after people she knew nothing about was beyond stupid.
She needed to take initiative and hunt down her stalkers someway, somehow. She needed to become the pre-
"You like being the predator and not the prey, don't you?" That voice chimed.
Liariana slammed the door of the building as she exited into an alleyway. That memory making her even more agitated as she walked through the narrow back roads by her lonesome. The chatter and activity of the main roads and civilians growing softer and softer the deeper she went into the slums of the residential district. Soon the morning bustle of the day (night) replaced by unnerving silence and suspicious noises at every turn around. The upkeep of the surrounding structures deteriorated; building shrunk in size and quality, the streets grew narrower and were littered with trash and vermin scurrying here and there, windows were busted out and wooden boards sealed off abandoned buildings as homeless vagrants huddled around burning fire cans and slept in tents.
If Liariana had any chance of successfully ev
ading her pursuers should Draven not have bluffed, it would be by hiding in the ghettos of this city. A businessman's worst nightmare and a fugitives greatest asset. Liariana walked deeper and deeper into this now decrepit and unsightly section the city preferred to keep hidden from the public, carrying nothing but the clothes on her back, her messenger bag of supplies, and a single sword for protection with nullified powers.
Her boots tapping across the dirty stone ground as she passed a couple of dirty, smelly people dressed in rags eyeing her like some voracious yet hesitant mesopredator. Lusting to attack her and take her belonging for themselves but too timid to try when her soft glowing, eerie eyes calmly and coldly, locked on her potential attackers with an unafraid, anticipating look. She even stopped walking for them with her posture still relaxed and screaming 'I'm wide open.'
Liariana dared them to try anything, her expression relaying the conviction to kill them if they so much as moved. The hoodlums, after some thought and a fair bit of intimidation, quietly returned to huddling around the trashcan fire they had prepared. There were easier prey to go after, they left Liariana alone. A lion among hyenas, Liariana walked through these back alleys as if nothing here intimidated her at all. Powers suppressed or not, this Yelkath still was more than capable of slaughtering a few back alley scum if push came to shove.
A few minutes later after getting some information from a hag at a corner (after giving her some of Liariana's rations), the red-eyed foreigner arrived at a broken and abandoned motel of cracked stone, broken windows, and boarded up doors. A courtyard proceeding it where the extremely poor gathered illuminated by garbage fires and stolen generators as well as 'torched' lampposts. An empty, broken stone fountain in the center as low-lying buildings surrounded her on all sides. This was the residential districts poor people's 'hub'. The Yelkath moving through the homeless gathered here and there talking and laughing or merely watching this foreigner walk among them with a unintimidated step.
Stepping into the broken and eroded motel Liariana was rather vaguely surprised when she saw the building had electricity. The help desk directly ahead of her in the lobby the only nailed to the ground piece of furniture in there. Everything else nothing but dirty, old cots and blankets and bags strewn in organized sleeping areas. The smell stale and pungent, but not too unbearable. At the desk under a flickering bulb wanting to give out any moment, sat a white male wearing a strewn together mess of rags and fabrics in a shirt and pants. His skin caked with dirt and his dark beard misshapen and grimy as he wrote across old yellow paper before looking up to meet Liariana's gaze. He had matted, terribly self cut black hair and onyx eyes with dark spots all over his face and neck from dirt and sweat.
"Whoa..." He chuckled, voice raspy and dry. "You look way too clean, well fed and pretty to be walking into a place like this." He chuckled warmly and cordial as the younger woman walked up to the desk. "I can only assume you're on the run from someone, your features tell me you're a foreigner, right?" He paused suddenly, noticing the soft, ghostly red glow to her eyes as his own widened in even more surprise. "You be a Nightborn..."
Reaching into her back pocket, Liariana pulled out a hefty amount of Lunis and tossed it on the desk shocking the man while ignoring everything he said earlier. His eyes blinking astonished, looking several times from the bag to her in rapid succession as he opened his mouth a bit confused, scratching his head.
"Uhh... ?" He looked back up to her.
"Give me your best room, along with the best bed and other pieces of furniture you can scrape up. I don't care which floor." She politely demanded while looking momentarily over her shoulder. The vagrant staring, then reaching out to grab the bag, juggling the small cloth sack in his dirty right hand and suddenly drooling at the weight it held. His onyx eyes focused back on her as a disbelieving smile crept across his rusted features.
"This here is a lot, I could finally take a good shower, get me some filling grub, some new clothes and the like for weeks with this. Damn..." He chuckled happily before placing the sack under the desk and scratching his beard. "Funny how you thought I was the owner of this abandoned building though lass haha. Truth be told I just sleep in this chair and use the desk as a foot stool!" He cackled in a low tone so others wouldn't know of their transaction. Furrowing a brow, Liariana stared at him with a gaze that portrayed he either return her money then or offer something useful. Quickly reading her thoughts, he waved his hand assuring to her and cleared his throat.
"That isn't to say you haven't found the perfect man to help you out miss." He adjusted himself in his seat, tenting his fingers and crossing a leg over the other while looking up at her. "My name Jack, but people round these parts call me the Miracle Man. I have the connections and resources to get you everything you need round these parts provided you have something worth trading. Which considering the hefty ass bag of coin ya gave me I'd say we're already on very good terms." He sneered leaning back now with feet moving to the top of the desk. His white shoes muddy and worn out.
"It's why I sleep at this desk, I feel like the boss of the slums sometimes. People come to me for everything they need and we work out deals ya know? You want a good room? We ain't got none in this hotel but with that down payment of yours I can get ya hot water running to whatever suite ya want, stable electricity and some of the cleanest blankets and mats for you to lie that sexy little head of yours down on. I can even throw in a trained junkyard mutt to guard ya while you sleep from anybody who might try to creep in at night and take you by surprise." He gave a yellow toothed, assuring smile. Liariana the entire time keeping her unmoving stare at him yet listened with clear interest in his words.
The flickering light above him gave out, shrouding the immediate area in total darkness. Jack laughing aloud as he felt embarrassed and looked up at the ceiling. "Gotta replace that damn bulb now, been procrastinating for ages... Oh well." He sighed standing up dusting himself off before lighting a match illuminating both again.
"We got a deal?" He outstretched his grimy hand to Liariana, the Yelkath merely looking down at it. Seconds later Jack shrugged and lowered his gesture of agreement. "I'll take your silence as a yes. I won't ask why a woman like you came to be in a shit hole like this, it's not my business. All I ask is ya watch your back. The law doesn't matter here, we're too poor and unimportant to the rest of the city. Careful who you hang with, they might drive a knife in your gut the moment you lower your guard." His tone grew serious, but then faded away as he turned to head up a stairwell behind his desk. Having gestured the slightly shorter woman to follow after him as he moved.
"With that all said, this way; I'll show ya the best room I think we got in this hotel." His words came with a whistle. Liariana following him without a word. A few minutes later, a large wooden board acting as a sliding door were pushed open and Jack stepped into the dark room flicking on the light switch as he gestured Liariana in.
"It ain't much but as I said, give me about a day or so and I can get you everything ya need to make it feel at the least like a two star hotel haha." He laughed dryly. The room was about average in size, reminiscent of a typical hotel room with a stale smell just like the rest of the building. The walls were old and the paint were peeling, the carpet was gone and the underlying concrete exposed and covered in dust and trash, the singular square window on the opposite side of the door was stuck in the halfway open position and the glass broken, and the overhanging light was barely holding on by a thread. It would have to do for now... The door over on the side hopefully led to the bathroom, and hopefully it didn't look too bad.
"It's fine, can I have a broom and dustpan?" Liariana calmly asked looking over to Jack as she stepped in and placed her gear by the wall. Jack nodding and clearing his throat with a thumbs up.
"Sure thing, I'll be back with a relatively clean sleeping bag, pillow and blanket for you too. Don't worry I won't be touching it, it's wrapped in a clear bag haha." He joked closing stepping out and walking back down the hall. When his fo
otsteps were fully gone, Liariana walked over to the window after turning off the light. Her eyes gazing over the drastic difference in scenery from her first apartment. Here she was, back to square one... On the run from those who would come after her. It felt like an endless cycle of cat and mouse, one that she could never seem to escape no matter how far across the world she travelled. Leaning against the wall as her solemn gaze looked beyond the threshold of the window, Liariana zoned out with her thoughts...
This world, was truly a cruel one.
Bloody Fuller: Jonath vs Kelgard!
The Challenger Chapter Thirty-Two: Bloody Fuller: Jonath vs Kelgard
"I can't say I'm not excited to see the two of you in action." Melissa smirked as Jonath and Kelgard stepped into the warded circle. The rest of the bystanders whispering among themselves, sizing up both of the young men based off appearance and pre-emptively betting on who they thought would win. Kayde raised her right hand up to her chin in quiet concern; she wondered if Jonath was really alright after she'd seen his eye bleeding. Melissa noticing the girl's concern when she coincidentally glanced over, a sly snicker following from half hidden features.
