The Fallen

by R. L. Drummond

  “You could do if you like, but I can’t imagine that would be overly comfortable for you.” Jenko replied wryly and Reya winced at how unmistakable the feline smile within his disembodied voice sounded.

  “You’re such a dick.” Vella muttered venomously.

  “That’s hardly the kind of sweet talk that’s going to get me to lift my skirt for you, Vella. Incidentally, I can’t help but notice you’re still here.”

  Aware that the conversation was entirely exhausted bar the childish bickering they always resorted to, Vella burst angrily from the kitchen without further reply and Reya gulped at the scowl that radiated from her face.

  Maybe I should just go…She thought timidly, gulping in gratitude that Vella’s fearsome glower wasn’t directed at her as the barmaid stormed towards the stairs with undiluted irritation.

  “Right! Everyone up and out!! Now!!” Vella roared as she thundered up the stairs and with a nervous nod of affirmation of her own prudent thought, Reya attempted to slip off her seat as quietly and unobtrusively as possible.

  “You!” Jenko called out so abruptly that Reya jumped in fright and her heart hammered as she slowly turned around, her skin tingling with apprehension.

  She then froze in wide eyed horror when she realised that Jenko had somehow come back into the room without her notice, and now sprawled lazily upon one of the ancient armchairs by the fireplace like a contented housecat. How did he– Reya wondered incredulously, but in spite of her shock at seeing him so suddenly, Jenko simply crossed his ankles on the table in front of him and bit heartily into the apple in his hand.

  “Me?” She squeaked.

  “Yes, you. There’s no one else in here, is there?” He continued with an irritation so obvious that a little stab of hurt seized Reya’s heart. He then took another bite of his apple, pointed rudely at her and said through a full mouth, “You left some things with your horse. Now I have no problem with selling them on, but I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  Reya was about to thank him for his thoughtfulness out of courtesy, until she registered that the grin on his face was one of mockery and she frowned deeply in heartfelt disapproval.

  “Oh ho!” Jenko joked at the absurd glower that adorned her face and his grin widened, “Looks like I was right. Well then hop to it, I’m not keeping that bag of bones forever.”

  Reya’s mouth worked when she thought of what to say in response: it was one thing to bully her, but she knew that Asgard was a fine horse and even though she had only had him for a day, she was terribly sad in knowing that she would no longer see him.

  “Do you have to be so mean?” She asked Jenko timidly.

  “Sorry?” Jenko asked loudly and he cupped an ear theatrically, “Didn’t quite catch that there?”

  Reya’s face trembled into a pout of frustration and her fists balled angrily as she gathered herself up in indignation. “I–I said: do you have to be so mean?” She repeated louder, in spite of how tightly her throat constricted against her bravery.

  Jenko grinned toothily at her, still chewing his apple and regarded her in silence for a moment as though he waited for her sudden pride to crack, like a fine porcelain cup dropped from a clumsy hand. And when Reya’s stance never faltered but her frown became deeper, Jenko tossed the apple core into the unlit fireplace with a weary sigh. He then licked his fingertips and finally said, “There you go. Don’t be frightened to say what’s on your mind, kid. It doesn’t pay to be quiet in this world.”

  Reya blinked in confusion at the sudden and unexpected change in his manner; how could a person go from utter mockery to supportive in the next with no transition to speak of? This man was as confusing as he was intimidating and Reya wasn’t terribly sure if she wanted his aid after all, in spite of Tellan’s wishes. Her observance of him was short lived however, for the staccato of footfalls from the stairs heralded the colourful mutterings and complaints from the disgruntled patrons. Reya took a hasty step back from the growling path of Vella as she roughly herded the patrons towards the door and as each filed past Reya one by one, she remembered with a start that Jenko was about to close the inn.

  “This is outrageous, you know!” One woman in particular cried at Jenko, who simply laced his fingers behind his head casually and looked up at her impassively, “I’ve paid for a full night and a day!”

  “It’s daytime already.” Jenko replied smoothly.

  The woman sputtered and shot back indignantly, “Yes, but I’ve paid up until the end of the day!”

  “And the end of the day shall still come, madam. Think of it as a day trip.”

  The woman gaped in shock at his brusque dismissal of her complaint and cried heatedly, “Well! I never–!”

  “As for you,” Jenko spoke on to Reya, pointedly ignoring the woman who still stood agape at his callous attitude of her. He then rose from his chair and stalked forward purposefully, “I wasn’t kidding. Get your shit or I’ll sell it off. It’s up to you.”

  With one last dark look at Reya that spoke dreadful volumes of how little he cared for her circumstances, Jenko walked away to usher the patrons out the door, beginning with the woman who still blustered at him hotly. And as she gaped at his back, Reya realised with a sinking of her heart that he had no intention whatsoever of helping her. She blinked rapidly as she tried to contain the tears that threatened to spill down her face and with a quiet sob of woe, she ran towards the stable. All Reya could do was choke in her tears as she fought the sorrow that welled up inside her; she couldn’t understand why this was happening to her. She had never done anything wrong in her life, why had the world suddenly turned upside down? She had no one now…no father, no uncle…she had no idea of what she would do now or where she should go. The world was such a big place and full of so many frightening things…

  When she caught sight of Asgard’s saddle, her face finally crumpled into utter misery and hot tears streaked down her face freely as she cried her heart out; for the final weight of Jenko’s dismissal had shattered the scales of her composure with its heavy price. Asgard whinnied gently when she pressed her face against his glossy mane and she threw her arms around his neck helplessly, clinging onto him as she wept great sobs that wracked her body and burned her eyes with the stinging heat of her woe. Tellan had told her to come here, that this Jenko person would help her; but he was so…so horrible that Reya couldn’t believe Tellan would know such a man.

  An incredibly loud bang burst out from behind her suddenly and Reya spun around with a gasp of fright through her heart that had leapt into her throat. Jenko stood behind her with a dark glare in his eyes and the obvious nature of his arrival sent an ominous tremor through Reya’s flesh. She became terrified in that moment, for the expression on his face was one that she couldn’t identify, yet there was a granite hardness within his features that made her gulp in fear.

  The pair stared at one another for a moment and silence rang out through the stable deafeningly; Reya wasn’t sure what she should say to him, until Jenko himself finally broke the silence.

  “So…” He announced with a brief sideways glance, an innocuous gesture that belied the intimidation that emanated from his stature, “Somebody told you to find me.”

  His voice was casual, but there was a curious sensation of poise about him that Reya could only liken to an animal that prepared for flight or fight. Her timid response died in her throat when Jenko slowly passed his gaze back to hers, for there was an aggressive challenge in his eyes now that the darkly amused glint couldn’t conceal.

  Jenko’s eyes narrowed slightly at Reya’s continued silence and he stepped forward once, a single, intentionally slow motion that made her shoulder blades bunch protectively. “And why would that somebody tell you such a thing?” He asked slowly.

  Reya stared at him as he walked closer with deliberate footsteps, but the words that whirled through her uneasy mind in a rush of fear just couldn’t find their way out of her mouth. Jenko tilted his head at her continued silence an
d Reya cringed when he began circling her ominously slowly, heedless of the horse that separated them.

  Reya kept her face forward however, her skin electric as she followed his movements with pin–sharp ears, and it felt to her as though every sound in the stable boomed deafeningly. She held her breath reflexively when his feet dragged to a halt behind her but when he spoke again, she couldn’t stop the fearful tremble of her lips.

  “Don’t be shy.” He growled menacingly from the other side of the horse, “Who sent you?”

  Reya’s mouth worked as she tried to encourage her tongue to speak, but still her words were too timid to be sounded. She heard a loud slap then and shrieked when she thought instinctually that she had been struck, but Asgard whinnied greatly and trotted off. Within that moment a cold horror sprang into her mind that she no longer had the protection of the horse between them and sure enough, Jenko rushed up behind her. She gasped and shrank protectively when he grasped her upper arms with a hard, uncompromising grip and as he spun her roughly, Reya’s face crumpled in terror.

  “Who sent you?” He rapped directly into her frightened grimace, uncaring of the fear that shuddered terribly through her body.

  “M–my uncle!” She wept back in alarm as her knees buckled weakly, her mind now an incoherent mess in the face of Jenko’s intimidation.

  Jenko snarled in exasperation and shook her like a ragdoll in spite of how violently her head bobbed, “That’s no use to me! What’s his name?”

  “P–please!” She shrieked in blind terror.

  Jenko pulled back slightly and his scowl convulsed at how terribly Reya trembled in his hands. He then blinked at his own uncharacteristic sentimentality, shook her once again and reproached, “Stop crying!”

  “I–I can’t help it! You’re scaring me!”

  Jenko grunted and abruptly let Reya go with a slight shove, for there was an unusual niggle within him that told him he had gone too far. Actually the niggle wasn’t for his actions at all, but rather that he had made the girl cry in the way that he had. His eyes jumped uneasily across her tear streaked face while she still bubbled in terror and his hand jerked towards her with unsolicited concern. He allowed her tears to continue for a little longer, but when her sobs became harsh and guttural within her throat, he sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes.

  “All right, that’s quite enough.” He grumbled as he reached into his waistcoat pocket, “You’re only going to hurt yourself if you keep carrying on like that.”

  Reya’s brow twisted into a grimace of complete confusion when Jenko poked her roughly in the shoulder with an offer of his handkerchief, but the skewed line of his mouth told her that there was no hidden barb to this reluctant kindness. She hesitantly reached out for the unexpected gift when Jenko hitched it meaningfully and he rolled his eyes again as she blew her nose noisily.

  He turned his back while she continued to clean herself up and when she finally finished, she timidly offered the thoroughly soiled handkerchief back. Jenko’s gaze flickered between the handkerchief and Reya’s eyes with his lips curled in mild disgust, and his nose wrinkled as he shook his head in refusal.

  “Are you done?” He asked her blandly, to which she nodded weakly with a hiccup. He then sighed shortly and added bluntly, “Good grief, look at the state of you.”

  In spite of how wounded she felt, Reya still huffed with indignation at his newest insult and blurted through a tear rasped voice, “What is your problem?”

  Jenko grinned suddenly and retorted happily, “I have many; which one in particular troubles you?”

  Reya disbelievingly shook her head and her eyes narrowed in bemusement of his kaleidoscopic mannerisms. “You…you’re so strange…” She said.

  Jenko tilted his head with lifted eyebrows and a wry smile in acceptance of her not incorrect observation. He then watched Reya in silence for a moment longer out of the corner of his eye, before he blinked softly and murmured with what seemed like uncharacteristic sincerity, “I’m sorry.”

  Reya’s eyes sketched across his face hesitantly, “R–really?”

  But any sincerity within his voice was short–lived within the blink of an eye. “No.” He responded with abrupt bluntness and shifted closer to her, “Listen, I’m not in the habit of being nice, so I’ll only ask you one more time. Who…sent…you?”

  “You mean you don’t know already?” A deep rumble asked from the door that led back into the inn and Reya gasped with unbridled relief at the wonderful tones of that voice.

  Jenko looked up with a groaning sigh, irritated at the new interruption of what should have been a basic interrogation. How hard can it be just to learn a bloody name? He thought in exasperation. He turned towards the intruder with his shoulders rounded aggressively for a fight, but when he saw the bedraggled and travel–worn figure of Tellan by the doorway, his territorial scowl changed into reticent enlightenment.

  “It’s you…” He murmured with near shock. His suddenly wide eyes then flashed down at Reya with an expression that embodied sudden clarity, and he uttered in soft astonishment, “Oh…”

  “Indeed.” Tellan replied simply and he smiled gratefully at the sight of Reya, unharmed and safe.

  “You’re alive!” She breathed with earnest incredulity as she rushed forward, throwing herself wholeheartedly into Tellan’s embrace with a cry of joy.

  Tellan welcomed her with open arms and his eyes closed in sheer relief at the knowledge that she had managed to make her way to safety. He breathed in the scent of her hair as he gathered her tightly against him and from the way he held her so protectively, Jenko couldn’t believe that he hadn’t recognised Baldur’s daughter for who she was. Such adoration in Tellan’s face…Jenko knew then that Baldur had made the right choice in appointing Tellan as her guardian.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Jenko rumbled at Tellan; the gruffness of his voice a poor salve against his bruised ego for not sensing the diluted rays of Reya’s Light.

  Tellan released Reya from his embrace and smiled beatifically as he smoothed a hand down her tumbled mane caringly. He then offered his hand in welcome to Jenko and replied ironically, “It’s good to see you too, Jenko.”

  Jenko accepted the handshake with a wry grin and said, “Of course it is. So…” He then took a step back and gestured somewhat awkwardly at Reya, “This is Reya then, is it? All grown up.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where does the time go?” Jenko joked dryly and he squinted at Reya in such a manner that she felt awfully exposed, “You don’t have your father’s looks, so that’s a blessing at least.”

  Tellan and Reya’s eyes suddenly dropped to the floor with such heavy gravity that Jenko was immediately claimed by a dull instinct at what had brought them to his door. Within that moment, his entire world disappeared from under his feet and as he struggled against the surge in his heart that rose chokingly within his throat, he looked away in shock.

  “I see…” He said sombrely in what he felt was the most useless of all responses, for he was entirely at a loss of anything else he could say.

  Tellan knew that in spite of his comrade’s outward lack of reaction a dark void of sorrow had claimed his heart, for their commander had been a true brother in Jenko’s eyes, as much as Tellan’s. For centuries the Line of Baldur had battled side by side – Baldur, Jenko, Timran and Tellan – and had formed a near synergistic force that had destroyed every enemy, regardless of the overwhelming odds that had been stacked against them. Jenko proudly remembered the battle in which the squad had destroyed a great winged Lamassu on their own, a formidable foe that had claimed the Light of many of the Legion of Asgard. When the fiend fell beneath the might of their combined strength, the forces of the Abyss had stood still, stunned that the powerful demon had been vanquished by a mere four. But when the Line of Baldur had stood tall before their fallen enemy and brandished their weapons with renewed vigour at their triumph, the forces of the Dark had fled in terror. It was a victory that had su
ng high in Jenko’s heart and still did to this day…a glory the likes of which he had abandoned wilfully from the moment he had chosen to follow Baldur’s decent to Midgard.

  Baldur…is dead? Jenko thought and as he turned his back to his brother Tellan, his brow crumpled in a deep seated pain that he refused to show. His anguish gave way to retribution when a flare of anger suddenly seized him and he spun sharply back towards Tellan.

  “How?” He asked, a simple word that conveyed all the angered passion he harboured within his soul.

  Tellan’s jaw twitched in shared vengeance, but when he lifted his gaze to meet Jenko’s that blazed with such fury, his own eyes were filled with the deep shame of his failure. The pair stared at one another in silence, for the name of the demon prince laid heavily across Tellan’s tongue and brought the bitter bile of defeat.

  “Belial.”

  Tellan’s pained whisper rang throughout the stable with the crashing of thunder and sent electric waves of shock through Jenko’s being that halted his heart. Jenko’s face solidified as he stared at Tellan further in stunned silence; the name of that hated nemesis was enough to send his mind into a convoluted whirlwind of an ancient anger that threatened to swallow him whole, and his hands twitched in spasmodic reaction.

  To Reya’s eyes Jenko stood stock still and calm, but Tellan saw the flash of utter rage within his comrade’s eyes that spoke of an almost overwhelming wrath. Tellan swallowed briefly and flashed his gaze worriedly at Reya. “Right now Reya is our priority; we must keep her safe.” He said with a quiet murmur before Jenko could give his anger release.

  “Hmm.” Jenko responded through a closed mouth, for anger still bubbled treacherously on his tongue and he felt it was wiser to leave it unvoiced until the furious beating of his heart had subsided. But Jenko’s head and heart had a tendency towards confliction and so he blurted in a furious snarl, “Fucking Belial…we should have known better.”

  Tellan blinked at the awful insinuation behind those words, for the memory of pulsing blood that had flowed so freely from Jenko’s near fatal wound fifteen years ago still flared within his mind. “You would have died.” He murmured.