He tore across the wall-top, shoving his fellow defenders aside. He picked up a bucket of tar and sloshed it in front of him. Tar splattered on a group of Agilus assassins that had climbed to the top of the wall. Their chameleon abilities made them nearly invisible, but now they were very visible - covered in black goo.
Haymaker grabbed the nearest enemy by the throat and lifted him up with his left arm, while punching another in the teeth. He tossed them both over the wall as two more attacked him. He blocked a swipe from a short sword with his gauntlets. The cheap blade shattered, and another knife appeared from nowhere and searched for a crack in Haymaker’s armor. Haymaker grabbed the knife and the hand that held it, and crushed them both with a nasty crunch. He swung out a savage backhand with his free arm, catching another Agilus and knocking him off the wall.
The hapless Agilus sailed to the ground, but Haymaker was right behind him, using the body to break his fall. Unlucky, this Agilus served his purpose well, leaving a depression in the ground when he vanished. Haymaker charged at Viper. With a quick shout, he activated an ability - gaining strength and speed. Haymaker was in a blind fury; mad at Viper for attacking his friends, and mad at himself for not catching the trick sooner. His blue mane flowing like a cape, Haymaker tore up the ground between himself and Viper.
…
Viper was every bit as angry. The blue Brutalli on the walls had ruined multiple attacks. Finding goons to fight for him was becoming expensive. He urged Venom on and readied his spear.
…
Haymaker finally realized what he was doing. Unfortunately, he was about twenty steps past the point of no return. Viper was coming at him fast, and the only weapon Haymaker had was his hands. As always, he would have to do what he could. He only hoped that Bishop would make good on his promise.
…
Bishop had watched Haymaker hop off the wall. Now, he had a dilemma of his own. He could leave the wall top to help Haymaker, but that meant possibly losing the Haven.
“A promise is a promise,” the old man sighed, and grabbed a young Electar passing by with a bushel of arrows. “You’re in charge now. You know a fire spell, right? Good. Have fun.”
Bishop strode to the edge of the wall, watching as Haymaker rushed at Viper. He pointed at a spot near the closing figures in the distance and described a circle. Bishop crossed his arms, dropped them, clasped his hands together, unclasped them, raised his arms, and crossed them again.
Nothing.
“Dangit.” Bishop pulled out his Character Manager. He tried to open his spells menu, but got a list of his favorite Verdian restaurants instead.
“Dangit.” He accidentally went back to the main menu. “Hold on, friend.”
…
This isn’t good. Haymaker skidded to a halt. In about ten seconds he was going to be skewered. He turned back to the wall and looked for Bishop without any luck.
He faced Viper again.
Five seconds.
Man, that horse is fast. It’s pretty too. I wonder if I could ride a horse. I would need a big one. I should be paying attention.
Two seconds.
Haymaker planted his feet. He was not sure what was going to happen, but he knew he needed a miracle to get out in one piece.
In place of a miracle he was going to get the business end of a spear. Haymaker decided that he did not want that, so he stepped aside. The rider and horse stormed past; Viper attempted to wheel around. In the confusion, Haymaker found himself face to face with the horse, and he decked it- hard.
The mighty punch sent Venom down with a pained whinny, and the rider went flying. Viper tumbled several times and rolled onto his feet. He glared at Haymaker with a mixture of anger and disbelief.
“You punched my horse!”
This was the first time that Haymaker had gotten a good look at Viper’s armor. The breastplate was solid dragon bone, polished to a dark mirror finish; it tapered toward the belt line and joined with bright iridescent scales that formed the more flexible part of the upper armor. The boots were made from hollowed out bones as well. Greaves and gauntlets were crafted from a mixture of bright hammered scales and some softer dark material. Haymaker rightly assumed it was a dragon’s skin.
Perhaps the most striking feature of Viper’s armor was the feathers. They almost would have been comical, but even in the real world their beauty would demand attention. Short feathers sprang from a groove on Viper’s forearms, and two rows crested his helmet. Brilliant white, the feathers were tipped with the same prismatic hue as the dragon scales - catching light as they fluttered in the breeze, throwing out dazzling rays of color.
Impressive armor or not; the guy needed to be taught a lesson. Haymaker snorted with derision, “He’ll live; I can’t say the same about you.”
“She.”
“What?”
“The horse is a mare.”
“Whatever.”
Viper gave his assailant a devilish grin, “If you can kill me, she’s yours. If I kill you, your little hippy colony is mine.”
“Sorry pal, I don’t give away things that aren’t mine. I wouldn’t exactly call this a fair fight either.”
“You should have thought about that when you left your wall.”
“I can’t argue with you on that one.”
For lack of a better plan, Haymaker charged. Viper held out his hand with his thumb tucked in, and a wall of ice thrust up in Haymaker’s path. It shattered as the big Brutalli burst through it, but delayed Haymaker long enough for Viper to draw his axes from their clasps on his back. He flipped them in the air. The left axe erupted in flame when he caught it; the right glazed over with snow and began dripping icy frost onto the ground.
Haymaker continued his charge, preparing to tackle his magically inclined, more agile opponent. He knew that taking the fight to the ground was his only chance of survival. Viper stood firm and held his axes crossed in front of him. A small cloud of steam billowed up where Flame touched Frost. Haymaker slammed into the blades. Viper grunted and pushed back, throwing the Brutalli to the ground.
Viper had the axes up high in a flash, and brought them down at Haymaker with full force. Before they struck home, Haymaker hooked Viper’s leg with his foot and kicked it out. Viper lost his balance and hit the ground hard.
Haymaker rolled over and slammed a plated fist into the soil where Viper had been an instant before. He continued the roll onto his knees and swung a wide punch at Viper, who quickly regained his feet. Viper hopped aside, stepping on Haymaker’s outstretched arm, and flipped over the Brutalli’s back. Twisting midflight, Viper brought the icy Frost down into Haymaker’s collarbone with a wet slap.
Feathery fingers of ice slithered over Haymaker’s body and rooted him to the ground. He grunted and reached up with his right arm to grab the axe embedded in his left shoulder. Ice spread to his hand, and his arm - soon his entire body was encased.
Viper coolly walked to his horse, who had regained her feet. She seemed a little woozy but otherwise healthy. He rubbed Venom’s jaw where Haymaker had thumped her, and patted her on the nose. He took the time to straighten the wings sprouting from the back of his saddle.
Finally, he pulled Focus from its sheath. Focus had feathers tied to the base of its dark blade, and they fluttered softly as Viper twirled the spear. He chuckled as he approached his frozen enemy, “I’m still trying to decide whether I’m going to sell your armor or just have it melted down.”
Haymaker could move his head enough to give Viper a hard stare, “I think it’s pretty sad that whenever somebody tries to do something good there’s always a prick like you looking to screw it up.”
Viper gritted his teeth and raised the spear up to slice off Haymaker’s head, “Nothing is good.” The dark blade slid through the air toward Haymaker’s neck.
THUNK.
Bishop’s staff bounced off Viper’s helmet, and Viper stumbled forward. Bishop quickly cast a cleansing spell on Haymaker, breaking the ice.
Hay
maker roared and slammed a steel fist into Viper’s stunned face. Viper went down, and Haymaker pounded again and again like a berserk gorilla.
“That’s enough.” Bishop froze Haymaker’s hands in place with an outstretched palm. He raised his arms, and Viper rose from the ground, surrounded in a blue field of light. Bishop reached forward, ripped the axe from Haymaker’s shoulder, and threw it to the ground. He waved a hand over the wound, healing it up. Finally, he bent to pick up his staff. “He’ll wake up in a second.”
Haymaker bent over and panted, “You couldn’t have cut it closer could you? I guess your fiber pills did their job and you had to make a pit stop.”
As predicted, Viper left his “stunned” state within seconds, and struggled to break free of the field. Unable to move his arms or hands, he could not cast any spells. His eyes flicked back and forth between his captors, who grinned at him.
“Hello,” Bishop said. “My name is Bishop. I am a Level Twelve Guardian Mage.”
“Haymaker. Level Twelve Warrior.”
Both men made sure that Viper knew how far below him they were in the Verdian pecking order.
“Why do you keep attacking us?” Bishop asked.
Viper eyed them for a minute. His face was bruised and purple from Haymaker’s beating, and a trickle of blood ran down from his forehead. He answered reluctantly, “I need to get into your valley.”
“Did you ask?” Bishop replied.
“Ask what?”
“If you could get into the valley.”
A look of confusion crossed Viper’s face, “Why would I do that?”
Bishop put a hand on his hip, “Because we probably would have said yes.”
“Can I get into...”
“No,” Bishop cut him off.
“Why do you need to get in so bad?” Haymaker growled.
“That’s my own business,” Viper replied.
Bishop examined Viper thoughtfully, “Where did you get that armor? And the weapons?”
“A dragon. I killed it.”
“A rainbow dragon.” Bishop’s face fell in depressed recognition. He turned to Haymaker, “He killed our dragon.”
“No!” Haymaker exclaimed, “I didn’t even get to see him.”
“Her.”
“What?”
“It was a female dragon,” Viper replied. “She attacked me. I had been tracking her for a week. She was killing livestock far to the west of here. One day, I got too close, and she must have thought she was cornered. She always came from your valley and returned there.”
“Her nest must be in our valley,” Bishop said. “I haven’t seen her for quite some time. I was starting to wonder myself where she had gone.”
Haymaker’s face sank with disappointment. He sighed, “I never got to see it.”
“You wanted an egg, didn’t you?” Bishop asked. “It’s not enough that you killed the poor beast and are now wearing its skin, you wanted to steal one of her babies. You can leave now. Take your horse and never come back. If you do, we’ll make sure that the news that you were beaten by two Level Twelves is spread far and wide.”
Together, they walked home. Viper’s force had vanished. His plan had hinged on Agilus assassins getting behind the wall and opening the gate from within. Having no real method of breaking through and no real experience in battle, the attackers had milled about in confusion until they succumbed to a rain of arrows. The few that were still alive ran off toward the coast. Viper vanished in a storm of dark purple fire, a recall spell of some sort.
Haymaker slapped Bishop on the shoulder, “I was just kidding about the fiber pills. What are we going to do now?”
Bishop smiled as he turned toward the wall, “We’re going to find a dragon’s nest.”
The Past
Victor always loved taking off. “Here we go!” Everyone had to hold their breath; it was a tradition. He was surrounded by people whose names began with V - his dad and brother, Vincent Sr. and Vincent Jr., his sisters, Vanessa and Valerie, and his mom. His mom’s name was Cindy, but she was still a part of the family.
Victor Valor was about to turn six, then he would turn five again, and then six again when they landed in Tokyo. At least that is what his brother said, and Vince knew everything. Victor wanted to know if he could get twice as many presents and two cakes. Dad said he was getting a dinosaur. This frustrated Victor - that was ridiculous. What was he really getting?
As the Valor Pharmaceuticals jet roared into the night sky and the seat belt sign went off, someone broke out the cards. Everyone played hearts - another airplane tradition.
Strange silence followed the explosion. Time crawled, and for a brief moment the playing cards floated gently. They danced around each other gracefully as if a magician was guiding them with strings.
Sound returned to the world with a roaring that got louder and louder. His mom looked scared. Someone was screaming.
Everything went dark, light, dark again as power shuddered on and off. Smoke filled the cabin.
Dad and Vince strained their way to the front of the cabin and opened a door. They took something big and yellow from a small closet. Someone forcibly raised Victor’s arms and snapped a vest on him. He realized that his lap was warm and wet, but he was too frightened to be embarrassed.
The impact was tremendous and dark. Victor could feel the cold water but could not see it. He clawed at a wall, trying to dig his way to light and air. His right arm did not seem to work right; it was weak, and his shoulder had a strange warm feeling. Something grabbed his hair and pulled hard. Pain swallowed him whole, and he finally saw some light as his eyes filled with streaks and stars.
He was completely underwater, and held his breath instinctively. His world filled with muffled groans and cracks and thunders. An unseen force continued to pull his hair. Up and up it pulled him; a giant eagle clutching a frightened mouse and taking it to a mountaintop.
He screamed as soon as his head broke free of the water. He screamed so hard his throat felt like it had been shredded in a wood-chipper. He breathed only to scream again.
“VICTOR! VICTOR!” A voice boomed. “I AM HERE! SNAP OUT OF IT!”
His brother’s voice. Victor was silent. He sobbed quietly and bobbed gently a salty sea. He finally opened his eyes and saw city lights in the distance.
“Climb in the raft, Victor.” Vince turned his brother’s face so that their green eyes could meet, “It’s all right buddy. We’re okay.”
“Where are mom and dad?” he wailed. “And sis?”
Vincent sobbed, “Get in the raft buddy.”
After Victor climbed in, Vince hauled his larger frame into the raft. Soaking wet, they lay holding each other in the gentle waves. Vince wrapped his little brother’s arm in a bandage from a first aid kit. They lay for what could have been minutes or weeks.
Then, there was the thump-thump of a helicopter - and the lights.
Valor Estate
Outskirts of Seattle, Washington
Victor’s head pounded like a river of bowling balls pouring down a ravine. He ran his hand through jet black hair. Whatever he had taken last night had done a number on his brain - and his body, from the way his hands were still shaking. His blurry vision barely made out a bra resting on the plush carpet between his feet. He must have scored last night. Too bad his mind was too fried to remember any of it.
“No,” Victor’s green eyes went wide with fear when he saw his conquest, a cute blonde girl who could not have been a day over sixteen. She was wearing one of his T-shirts. “How old are you?”
She smiled dumbly, “Nineteen! I told you that last night, silly.”
Victor brushed past her as he rushed to the bathroom to throw up. His knees slammed onto the marble floor in front of the toilet. Dry heaves.
He turned back to the girl, “How did you get into the club? What the hell is wrong with the bouncers?”
Now, he was standing before a mirror that was entirely covered in old newspaper clippings. His
normally handsome face was ragged, his eyes bloodshot. He was wearing only a pair of boxers; showing his athlete’s build. Half of his muscle came from actually lifting weights and exercise; the other half came from experimental drugs he had acquired from Valor Pharmaceuticals. He was adept at sampling his company’s wares without anyone knowing. He looked at the medicine bottles scattered across the counter, trying to figure out what he had taken last night.
“You believed me, too.”
“I was also on a couple mind-altering substances at the time. I probably would have taken a bar-stool home with me if it could talk. Do your parents know where you are?”
“I told them I was staying at a friend’s house.”
“Is she here too?”
The girl laughed, “No, you could only fit one person in that old car of yours. Why don’t you remember anything?”
“Because I took this,” Victor held up a prescription bottle- half full of little blue and yellow pills. “You should thank God that I didn’t give any to you, or you’d be dead. Now, we have to get you home and I have to avoid a statutory rape case. Will ten grand keep your mouth shut?”
“What?”
“Fine. Fifteen then,” Victor pressed a button on the bathroom wall, “George, I need you in three minutes.”
“Yes, Master Victor,” a voice crackled from a speaker in the ceiling.
“What are you doing?” The girl asked.
“I’m sending you home. Fifteen grand and you tell no one what happened last night. Okay? You don’t want to start trouble about this, it won’t end well.”
“You don’t want to see me again?” The girl looked genuinely hurt.
“I don’t even know your name. And I don’t really care.”
“But you said…”
Victor held up the bottle of pills again, “Whatever I said wasn’t true. What did you expect from a guy who brought you home from a nightclub? Put your clothes on.”
The girl noticed the newspaper clippings covering the bathroom mirror. She pointed at them, “Your family...”
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