by GX Knight
He said they were demanding access to the caves. That’s one of the big no-no’s around there. Apparently, the caves under the waterfalls were something of a big deal. They were supposedly home to scattered tombs and hidden artifacts, meant to be hidden away, especially from power mad maniacs like Street Vipers.
We took a walk out in the darkness to survey the damage. He asked if it would be better to wait until sunup so I could get a better look, but I just smiled and told him it was fine. I know he thought I was odd for having kept my glasses on, but I didn’t care. I wanted to keep my secret safe for as long as I could. I know it’s a bit like a child feeling hidden because they cover their own eyes with their hands, but I would be happy to live in the fantasy for as long as it would let me stay. As they say: “Ignorance is bliss.”
I saw where the Vipers rumbled in through a sandworm garden, and tore up another patch of field. About ten homes were lost, as well as their version of the neighborhood convenience store. I asked if anybody was hurt or killed during the raid. He said nothing, just lowered his head and took me over to a pavilion in the middle of a four-way cobblestone road that was centered between four adjacent waterfalls.
On tables of wood decorated with amber threaded silver, three clear boxes sat covered with blue and red wildflowers. Housed in each box were the bodies of three old men, laid peacefully to rest in violet robes lined with silver etchings along the hems of the sleeves. They looked like they were sleeping. I half expected any one to suddenly open their eyes and ask to be let out of their glass casket. Save the wrinkles around their aged faces, there seemed to be nothing wrong with them. Certainly nothing that would have caused them to have died violently.
“They did this?” I asked talking about the Street Vipers.
“Yes,” He said. “And if they return I will see to it that they pay.”
“Who were they?”
The kid stopped and clutched the orange gem he carried with him at all times. He answered trying to hold back a tear, “My brothers.”
There seemed to be quite the age gap between the elders who had passed on, and this kid. His parents must have had him in a nursing home.
“I’m sorry.” What else could I say?
We walked in silence back to his home. Now I realized why he lived alone. The rest of his family was gone. I knew how he felt. As we entered back into his home, I was looking for anything to change the subject. My attention turned to the glowing orange shard he held. It had a similar vibe as the stones in my hands, so I asked, “Is that a Dragonstone?”
He lifted a proud chin. “Never seen one before, eh?”
“Not like that.” I said somewhat dodging the question. I wasn’t entirely truthful, but it wasn’t a lie either.
He became excited, and turned into a machinegun of random facts. “It’s actually a shard. It’s the family stone. I mean anyone could use it. There are some extremely rare stones, they say, only certain lineages have the ability to use. It’s also said that is because they made deals with the Dragon who gave us the stones. I don’t’ think I believe the Dragon myth. The caves teach us using such a stone would be bad.” His eyes narrowed, “Of course every stone use has its price, but this thing is just an heirloom passed to the one responsible for protecting Falor and her secrets. But it’s mine, and I’m the only one who’s going to use it.”
I became excited myself, and I ignored his rambling superstition. “And you know how to use it?’
He did not seem as excited. Actually he looked a little afraid to answer, “I do.”
“Could you teach me?” I asked quickly. “I would love to give it a shot.”
His face hardened into an expressionless mask. “The use of this particular stone is the responsibility of my family. Trust me when I say, this is not the stone you want to mess with.”
“Fair enough,” I conceded disappointedly. I remember being that young. Everything seemed like a matter of life and death. I decided I would win his favor later. If he knew how to use that shard of a Dragonstone, then certainly he would be able to teach me so that I could figure out mine. Then I could go back home to Sway, with a “Suck-It-Wench” the size of the moon.
As the sun started to rise, I was feeling tired. He gave me one of the spare rooms, which I assumed had belonged to one of his late brothers, and he then offered me a snack. I inhaled an entire basket of Marmalade Danishes in just a couple of minutes. He watched with amusement saying he’d never seen anyone eat like me. I’m sure that was true. I told myself I’d find a way to pay him back for the food and hospitality.
On my way to the room I realized we had gotten so busy I had forgotten to ask his name. After I had finally asked, I watched as he puffed up with pride. Duty laced every word. Conviction etched his face. “Hades…” He said, “Scion Hades of the Hades Clans of Oldwood ... Protectors of Falor, and keepers of the Calodan Shard.
“Hades? Like the god of Hell?” I said not able to hide my disbelief.
“Like the ancient family name the stupid myth was likely contextualized from. We think there was a distant cousin who got into some debt with some imaginative Greeks, and thus came the negative legend as recompense. Really, your guess is as good as mine. It’s sometimes a stigma, but we have spent centuries trying to turn it back into a name of honor. We are proud of our family and of those whose name we share, family or otherwise. In fact, I was even named after one of the founders of Falor. He was the first to ever use Dragonstones, and he was the first, and greatest, Infinite to have ever lived. I hope to one day revive the ways of the Infinite. I want to bring honor to the name.”
“Not much of an Infinite if he’s not still living.” I joked.
Scion did not share my humor.
It was that kind of crowd. I tried to recover. “Well he sounds like someone in whom the Hades family should be proud.”
Scion shook his head, “Oh no! Scion wasn’t a Hades.”
I was paying more attention to sucking the marmalade residue from my glove, than to what he was saying, as I asked, “Well, okay who was he?”
My body involuntarily stopped breathing after he eagerly answered, “He was a Thantosa.”
SINCEREST FORM OF FLATTERY
I tossed for a couple of hours. I slept very little. All I could hear in my mind was Scion’s young eager voice say the name “Thantosa” over and over. Had this been Largo’s plan? Is that why he sent me? I felt like I was being sucked into this unknown Thantosa lineage, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be. Don’t get me wrong, they seemed like swell folks, and every new piece of information that came to light made them seem like they were the Kennedy’s of their day. But that was long past. I wasn’t out to remake broken family lines, walk in former footsteps, or even live in old shadows. I wanted to stop the Street Vipers, and then go back to try and merge as many of mine and Maeve’s days together as possible.
A little before noon I cleaned up and helped myself to a large loaf of cherry and sugar bread Scion left out for me. There was a note saying to eat as much as I liked. More dangerous words have never been written. One of the benefits of being village protector was that he got as much food as he wanted, so if I needed more, all I had to do was ask. Thoughtful kid, I liked him more and more. I finished it off and then chased it down with another pot of that awesome citrus tea he left warming on the stove.
I walked around before finding everyone up at the pavilion where the Hades brothers had been laid. I paid my respects quietly from afar before wandering back around through the emptied village. I wondered what exactly I was supposed to do there. That morning before I left, Largo’s instructions had been two simple words, “Go and Help.” For a man who loved to talk so much, it was a great time for him to get quiet and cryptic. I decided I would hide his Ale stash and his pipe when I got back. That would show him.
After I was sure I had seen just about all there was to see, my Cyborg hearing caught commotion off in the distance behind one of the big waterfalls that rumbled behind the village. I
t took winding down a few paths to get there, which gave me more of a chance to sightsee areas I had missed. I loved all the little quaint homes, elegant stone paths, countless bridges, and every-kind-of-fruit tree you could think of. I envisioned myself living there when I spotted an open grassy land-bridge up between two trickling fountain springs. It was a perfect spot for a little house. What if?
Finally, hidden behind some clover and elfseed bushes, I found a rocky path that led behind the ground-shaking falls. I snuck quietly up to a large entrance obscured by the falling water. It was a great hiding spot. The water would crush anyone trying to make it through from the outside, and the pool beneath was so far down that anyone trying to jump away, had they made it that far, would likely not survive. There was only one way in or out.
I moved behind a stone monolith that guarded the cove that led to the door. The black doors were a couple stories tall. They had square rivets bigger than my head lining the outer perimeter, and on the inside, two large sculpted half-tiger faces adorned the edges that met. While closed the tiger looked complete, save the slight gap that ran down the middle of its face. There was no visible means of opening the behemoth gates, and by the luck the two goons were having with their ineffectual blowtorch, there was no getting through uninvited.
The tall one cussed, “This is pointless. We should go before their little memorial is over. If we’re discovered we won’t be as lucky as we were last time.”
“Relax” the shorter one said. He was obscured behind the other guy, so I couldn’t get a good look at him. “There’s only one left. You saw what happened to the others. We’ll have another group of Viper’s here soon enough. Until then let’s keep working on this door. There has to be something we missed.”
“Well, I just don’t get it.” The big one prattled on, “I don’t understand the latest fascination with all the artifacts we’ve been sent after lately. I signed up to be a Street Viper so I could drive fast and not take any crap off of anyone. I didn’t know I was here to play errand boy for leader of the week.”
“Yes, Drake and Cade were unfortunate loses.” The other one agreed, “But this is world-changing stuff with powers bigger than us at play. It would behoove us to go along. It’s going to be bad for whoever picks the wrong side for what’s coming.”
The big one snorted, “Oh yeah, because you look like following them has really worked out for the best.”
Just then he moved, and I was able to catch a glance. The little guy had been changed. His skin had been completely mutated into the grime and grease of what I had been. The metal hadn’t been as dark, so the goop that oozed from between the skin-plating stained more. He was ugly. He also looked sickly. The experiments they did on him had not been to his benefit. He was probably just another Street Viper lackey who got used as a guinea pig, and judging by the stains under his glowing yellow eyes, he would not be around to regret his choices much longer. Don’t ask me how I knew. It was a new instinct I felt.
There was something familiar about him. I felt like I had seen him before. I inched around the side of the closest onyx monolith to get a better angle. Out of frustration and complete desperation at their lack of success, this sickly Cyborg pulled out a sword with his good hand, and then he struck at the doors with it. It sparked as it glanced off. There was a significant scratch left in the doors, but clearly the sword was not going to be enough to get them in. It was all I needed to realize where I had seen this guy before. He was the one who had run off with Maeve’s blade that night she saved me. I recognized the sword he awkwardly held backward from its designed intent. I had seen its twin plenty in the last few weeks. Every time we trained with weapons, there was sadness, frustration, and anger Maeve held over the loss of it. I asked once why she just couldn’t get another one made, but that went about as well as asking about her dealings with the Vipers. All she would say was that it was irreplaceable.
The two were giving up. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll just say there was nothing here to find.” The little one said after lashing out.
“Fine with me,” The big one agreed. “I hate this place. It creeps me out, and those people are annoying. Plus there’s still another one of those brothers hanging about. No fun or profit here.”
I didn’t really care what they said about leaving, because I had my mind set that they weren’t getting away with Maeve’s sword. I wasn’t really supposed to fight anybody. It was more of a find-out-what’s-happening thing. But Largo said “Help,” and I guessed this would qualify. I stepped out from behind the monolith and dared my disgusting counterpart to make a move. I wished it hadn’t been daytime, because I could have used the moon-juice, but I would manage.
They both stopped for about a second. The little one screamed as if he were expecting me, “That’s him.” He jumped and swung the sword at me.
He missed the blow only after I slipped on the wet rocks and fell backward. I barely had a chance to react before he was on top of me. I held off the sword arm with one hand clasped at his wrist, while the other pushed back against a three-pronged bionic claw that chomped at my face. He seethed black bile from his metal lips, “This is your fault. You’re the reason this happened to me. After you left they started experimenting on all of us who had been on the detachment you escaped from as punishment.”
We wrestled for a moment. He was strong, but I was stronger. I gave him a headbutt that shattered my poor glasses. I rolled him off and jumped free in time to be met by the other guy who had turned their blowtorch into a flamethrower. I felt the fireball roll toward me. Out of protective instinct, I crossed my arms in front of me to block the flame. Sway and I had actually worked on this once. Well, it was more of a theoretical hypothesis as we tried to figure out what I was, and wasn’t, immune to. She was pretty sure my metal parts could handle fire, and thankfully she was right. My jacket, on the other hand, was not so lucky. The sleeves melted off as I used a back-roll Maeve taught me to get away from the flame.
I couldn’t hesitate; I did a quick springboard roll forward and grabbed the torch by the nozzle. A quick squeeze shut it down with a slow hiss. The guy swung at me, and with a Cyborgized-Adrenaline boost, I kicked him right in the chest. He teetered backward into his metal buddy who then slipped toward the edge and fell over. I don’t know why, but I dove to catch him. I slid on my stomach and made it in time to grab him by the wrist of the hand that held the sword. Anger filled his eyes; he cussed and spit at me while I tried to rescue him. I braced against the wet rock as best as I could, and pulled him up. I almost had him to safety when he brought his claw around, and from the center of it sprung a spike that crackled with untold voltage of electricity.
With a blinding flash, he speared my shoulder. The electric spike cut through my metal skin like a hot knife. Looks like we found something I wasn’t immune to … Sway would be happy. A bright blue river gushed from a wound that felt as if a million tiny razor blades were spinning inside my body. The pain was beyond anything I had felt, even while undergoing my transformation. It must have been the improved senses. I screamed and tried to hold on to him, but the voltage sent me into some kind of overdrive. My hand that held on to his arm squeezed so tightly that it crushed his already weakened frame. The shoddy makeup of his transformation couldn’t handle the pressure. His wrist literally crumbled between my fingers, and then ripped apart no longer able to hold against his own dangling weight.
With a loud snap, the spike broke off in my shoulder, and I still held his hand that grasped the sword. The rest of him fell and was taken into the falls where he was crushed somewhere in the bottom pool.
I staggered back. Everything spun, or maybe it was me spinning? I fell toward the black gate as his friend yelled, “Feringal!” He came to stand over me. He was Rage’s vessel, and he was ready to pour it out on me. “That was my brother!” Everything kind of blurred and flickered in and out as I lay helpless beneath him. He had found a shotgun and held it to my face. He pumped the handle, and I waited for him to
pull the trigger.
LEGACY
I thought I was a goner. I should have been. The gun barrel was about an inch away from my nose, but I was only half aware of it. Most of my attention was focused on the thrashing waves of pain rolling from the epicenter of my shoulder where I had gotten stabbed. It was in the haze of everything when I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming after the gun lifted away because of a blurring kick from Scion.
He appeared out of nowhere and sent the gun hurtling end-over-end, over the edge, and into the grip of the falls. Another spin-move connected a kick and two successive fists into the Viper goon that rolled him back toward the path that led to the giant doors.
Not missing his opening for a chance to escape, the Street Viper ran off, promising that he would have his revenge. Considering that the two Vipers were ready to go and not come back before I interfered, I was not feeling great about my continued impulsiveness of stupid. Now, one was dead, the other out for blood, and all while I was left crumpled on wet rock with a fresh hole in my custom new Cyborg pieces-parts.
