Fallout (Tales of the Other Universe Book 2)

by J. G. Taschereau

  Tales of the Other Universe

  Fallout

  Book Two

  By J.G. Taschereau

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2014 by J. G. Taschereau

  For Ben, and all who have known the pain of loss,

  and, as always, for her.

  Contents

  Chapter 1: The Impending Night

  Chapter 2: A Victim of Science

  Chapter 3: Uncertainty

  Chapter 4: Hard Goodbyes

  Chapter 5: Attack on Takuda Central

  Chapter 6: Taking Blame

  Chapter 7: Breach

  Chapter 8: Conquering God

  Chapter 9: Lost in the Woods

  Chapter 10: Homecoming

  Chapter 11: A Wicked Aura

  Chapter 12: The Curse of Amadeus Morgan

  Chapter 13: Discussing Death

  Chapter 14: A Hope for Divine Intervention

  Chapter 15: In the Great Hall

  Chapter 16: The Last War of the Wolves

  Chapter 17: The Aftermath

  Chapter 18: Dee’s Resolve Restored

  Chapter 19: Numb

  Chapter 20: The Brink of Despair

  Chapter 21: Outlaws

  Chapter 22: Wensfell

  Chapter 23: The King’s Honor

  Chapter 24: Providence

  Chapter 25: Kings Parting

  Chapter 26: Heading South

  Chapter 27: Permanent Scars

  Chapter 28: Sanctuary

  Chapter 29: Deicide

  Chapter 30: The Hall of the Overseers

  Chapter 31: Reparations

  Chapter 32: Two Questions

  Chapter 33: Remember

  Chapter 34: Those Left Behind

  "It would be very nice if there were a God who created the world and was a benevolent providence, and if there were a moral order in the universe and an after-life; but it is a very striking fact that all this is exactly as we are bound to wish it to be."

  - Sigmund Freud

  “Memento mori.”

  - Latin saying

  Fallout

  Behold this ruin! ‘Twas a skull,

  Once of ethereal spirit full.

  This narrow cell was life’s retreat,

  This space was thought’s mysterious seat.

  What beauteous visions filled this spot,

  What dreams of pleasure long forgot.

  Nor hope, nor love, nor joy, nor fear,

  Have left one trace of record here.

  Chapter 1

  The Impending Night

  A crow shrieked somewhere in the woods and burst outward from the bare branches of a tree into the reddening sky. Souji Okita stopped walking and shot his head up, hearing the sharp clapping of the bird’s wings as it flew off in the distance, its call echoing for miles around in the stillness that encompassed him at dusk. He remained still, listening to the fading sound as it was replaced by the void of silence once again. Souji sighed and released his grip from the hilt of his sword. It was a subconscious reaction for him, an instinct left over from his days as an assassin. There were times when the slightest noise would give way to an imminent threat to his life, and he would need to be ready to defend himself. Such threats were less common now, but he could never let go of that instinct. Souji remained alert, even as the world became quiet again. He knew that sometimes there was even greater danger in that silence.

  Ahead of him, his travelling companion noticed that he had stopped and turned to face Souji.

  “What is it?” His deep ghostlike voice crept into Souji’s mind like a hushed whisper spoken right against the teen’s ear.

  “Nothing, just a bird,” Souji answered.

  “There’s no need to be so tense, Souji,” the voice said again. “There will be plenty of birds in the woods, and other animals too. They’re no danger to us.”

  “I’m just taking a precaution,” said Souji. “There could be more to worry about than forest creatures. We’re not that far from the village that was burned to the ground yesterday. The growing dissent in the country has made a lot of potential enemies for a couple of wandering strangers.”

  It was not a great stretch to see how the two might be picked out as targets by local countrymen. Souji was a foreigner, both to the country and to the Other Universe, having been born in Japan. The tall, thin teenager had attempted to blend in by adopting the robes of a traveler, now tattered from months of use, but his ethnicity was a dead giveaway of how alien he was to the people of Magid. For some, that alone was reason enough to fear him or want him dead. His companion was just as odd, but for a different reason. The whole of his head was encapsulated in a smooth, golden mask with only two holes for his eyes in the front. His robes, once pure white lined with gold trim, had been dirtied from his travels. Aside from his face, he might have been seen as a down-on-his-luck priest. It was his unusual visage which advertised him as an outsider and had kept him travelling in secret through the wilderness of Magid for over twelve hundred years.

  “We’re quite alright, Souji,” the masked man said. “I’ve scanned the forest for traces of thought. There aren’t any people besides us around for at least a few kilometers. Just the animals.”

  Souji wasn’t much relieved. “I’d worry about some of the animals that live in these parts.”

  “Surely they’re something that either of us could handle if they tried to attack us, which I don’t expect that they would.”

  The masked man resumed his walking pace, leaving Souji staring into the endless stream of dying trees around them. At last Souji put his worries in the back of his mind and followed along as the two forged a path through the woods. Their feet crunched the dry leaves that littered the forest floor. Though early in the season, the trees in the forest the two were travelling through had already shed most of their foliage. What remained was hanging on for dear life, holding out against the autumn winds that would pluck them away and deliver them to the cold ground below.

  “We’ll go a little bit further and then stop for the night,” said the masked man. “It’ll be dark soon and I don’t know about you but I’m ready to rest.”

  “I agree,” said Souji. “Will you be giving The Baggins control then?”

  “It’s only fair. I’m sure he’s tired of riding around all day.” A year earlier, such a decision would never have been considered. For most of his life, a balance had existed that had governed which of the masked man’s personalities had control of their shared body: by day, the gentle man in the golden mask called New Baggins; by night, the former warlord of legend known as The Baggins. The two had been at odds for over a millennium and struggled for control of their body, which was regulated by a seal imposed on them by the Creator of the Other Universe himself. After the situation that the two were involved in during the previous winter, however, they had learned the benefits of cooperating with each other and found a way to get around the seal by willingly giving up control to the other. It was a circumstance that the Creator had never anticipated.

  The two pressed on through the woods, stopping only at the sound of brush cracking nearby. Souji grabbed the hilt of his sword again, but New Baggins was once again undaunted.

  “Calm down, Souji. It’s just an animal.”

  The trees to their right exploded as a pulse of crackling black energy erupted through the woods. Souji leapt backwards and avoided the rushing charge that
burned through the path. New Baggins raised his hand outward and without a word a veil of yellow light flew up in front of him, deflecting the dark energy away. As it subsided, New Baggins lowered his hand and the light faded. He stared into the woods, past the charred trees into the distance where the forest gave way to a dried up meadow. A lone figure stood there, his hand still held out in front of him with black sparks swirling around it like lightning.

  New Baggins narrowed his eyes and took a closer look at their assailant. He wasn’t old, but no longer young; his face seemed worn beyond his years and his glare glowed with anger. Long red hair spilled down to his back, caught in the gentle evening breeze along with his cape that fluttered behind him. He was dressed like a warrior with tanned leather armor and a sword at his belt, but he seemed more than capable of fighting with some sort of magic. At least it would have appeared to be magic to anyone else, but both New Baggins and Souji recognized the blast of power as one of The Baggins’ signature attacks. Only New Baggins recognized the man in front of them and took a cautious step forward.

  “Souji,” his ghostly voice echoed. “Stay back on the path. You’ll have to let me handle this.”

  “Who is it?” asked Souji.

  “Someone far more skilled at killing than you are,” he replied. Before Souji could say anything else, a dark aura surrounded New Baggins. His robes fluttered as he was engulfed in black flames, which soon flickered off of him to reveal a metamorphosis. His dirtied robes were replaced with polished black armor, his travelling cloak now a thin, tattered cape. The golden mask had become black, and the yellow irises of his eyes now showed white against black sclera. It was a change Souji had seen many times now as The Baggins took control of the body he shared with his other half.

  The Baggins stepped through the remains of the trees that were blown apart by the assault and entered the field. His opponent lowered his hand, keeping his piercing gaze on The Baggins. Behind them, Souji peered through the thin trees with great concern. There was no doubt that the blast their attacker created used the same type of psychic force that The Baggins favored in hand to hand combat. He was able to do so by manipulating particles smaller than the eye could see with his advanced brain power that was granted to him by years of painful scientific experimentation. The red haired man lacked the disfigurements that The Baggins and his counterpart hid behind a mask and appeared to be a normal human being. Yet somehow he was capable of bending matter to his will just as The Baggins could. The Baggins stepped within ten feet of the red haired man and stopped, locking eyes with him.

  “So you’re alive after all,” he said, his hollow voice echoing through his enemy’s head. “You’ve gotten a little taller, but you’ve aged horribly.”

  “Better than not to age at all,” the man said.

  “I see you still remember how to silence your thoughts,” The Baggins noted. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten within half a kilometer of me.”

  “Didn’t you teach me that it’s best to catch your enemy completely off guard and kill him as quickly as possible?”

  “That I did,” said The Baggins. “But you’ve already failed at that. You didn’t kill me with your sneak attack. Now you’ll have to fight without any advantage at all.”

  “Quite so,” the red haired man said as he drew his sword. “Equal terms. It’s not your way, but it’s the only way to prove that I’ve become superior to you.”

  “You’re using a sword and you still call these equal terms?” The Baggins remarked.

  “Given that you’ve had over a thousand years to develop your skills, I think my weapon is the least you can accept as a compromise.”

  The wind passed over the field, blowing both of their worn capes out behind them. The Baggins looked over the man who stood before him, a man he had last seen as a boy no older than Souji. He remembered the last time they had met, as he cast the man, bloodied and broken, over the edge of a cliff. The Baggins saw hate in his eyes that day as he fell and that hate was still there, but now his eyes were faded. He was worn out and tired. The Baggins understood well enough. He was tired too.

  The Baggins moved first, cracking two bursts of energy like bombs behind his opponent. The red haired man anticipated the sneak attack and with a swing of his sword almost too fast to see he cut through the blasts with a shout. The Baggins was quite surprised. To be able to use a physical weapon to cut through his bursts showed a powerful level of skill and control both with the sword and his own mental capabilities. There was no doubt now that this was going to be a serious fight.

  All around them the ground seemed to explode as the red haired swordsman charged forward. The Baggins generated a surge of energy in the palm of his hand and shot it forward. With another swing of his sword, the attack was blown apart and refocused into a thrust towards The Baggins. A glowing wall formed in front of The Baggins in time to catch the sword. Behind him and all around, walls of black light appeared and closed in around the swordsman. With a downward swing of his arm, the walls were forced together and exploded with such force that it shook the trees all around them.

  Souji ducked down and shielded himself. When he looked back up, he saw a quick flash of purple light and the crackling of energy. It seemed like The Baggins’ attack had not worked and the two continued to fight in the open field. The sun had almost completely set now and in the near darkness of the forest, the intense glowing of the dueling supermen lit up the area. It was taking a long time for the fight to end, as Souji was accustomed to watching The Baggins dispatch his enemies with one or two swift motions. This battle was different. He could tell The Baggins was struggling.

  The red haired man’s sword came down, now crackling with its own purple and black energy as it tried to find its target in The Baggins’ chest. The Baggins punched the sword away with one hand and with the other struck his opponent in the stomach, creating a burst of power forceful enough to launch the swordsman backwards onto the ground. Undaunted, the swordsman rose and resumed his assault with even greater anger and determination. The Baggins fought on, all the while watching the man’s face. He tried to mask his pain, his frustration, and his despair, but The Baggins saw right through him.

  “You miserable thing,” The Baggins said, taking hold of the red haired man’s sword. “Will you really not be satisfied until you’ve killed me?”

  The swordsman screamed and with a swirl of dark energy in his left hand he swung at The Baggins. His fist was caught and the two were locked in place as The Baggins stared into his eyes.

  “Isn’t this enough, Alexander?”

  His face seemed pained, but the swordsman was unwilling to admit defeat. In a surprise move, he slammed his head forward and struck The Baggins in his face. The recoil was enough to disengage them both, and the swordsman took the opportunity to bring his sword down and pierce The Baggins through his chest. The Baggins didn’t scream as the sword came out through his back and his blood splattered onto the dry ground below him. Paralyzed, he started to fall, but not before catching his opponent’s chest and putting a hole through it.

  Souji stared in awe as both of their bodies hit the ground. Ignoring his companion’s orders, he rushed out of the woods and over to The Baggins, now lying on the ground as his blood pooled beneath him. His opponent lay still a few feet away; The Baggins’ attack had met its mark and the swordsman would not rise again. So too had the sword found its place, and now The Baggins lay in agony as his life poured out of him.

  “No, no, this can’t be happening,” Souji said in a panic. He reached for the sword, still stuck in the body of The Baggins, but a hand reached out and stopped him from removing it.

  “Leave it,” said The Baggins, his haunting voice even more hushed than usual. “This was enough.”

  “You can’t die,” Souji shouted. “You’re supposed to live forever, aren’t you? Isn’t that the punishment the Creator put on you?”

  “‘Lest life a greater sword deny’,” The Baggins muttered. “Literally it seem
s.”

  “Please try to hold on,” Souji pleaded. “I can get help. I can save you.”

  The Baggins grabbed Souji by his collar. “Who asked you to save me?” His voice was pained; he could no longer hide his suffering even through his telepathy. “Didn’t you just hear me? I said this was enough. It was. I’m tired, Okita. I’m curious as to what it feels like to sleep. Let me find the answer in the dreams that await me there.”

  His head fell backwards and the whites of his pupils glowed like the moon above them. Then, as if timed with the sun setting behind them, the glow faded to black. Souji knelt hunched over The Baggins, hoping for him to speak another word or maybe for New Baggins to take back control of the body. He waited as dusk turned into night, and darkness fell over Magid like the surging tide.

  Chapter 2

  A Victim of Science

  A stack of papers slid to the side and fell off Adam Evans’ desk as he reached for a letter at the edge. He sighed, annoyed, and set the letter down in front of him before getting up to collect the fallen papers. Form after form had been stacking up on his desk every day as he worked with a group of advisors to handle the growing number of problems across Magid. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another: fighting between tribes in the northwest, a drought that had dragged through the summer and was causing a lack of food in the southern provinces, an economic crisis as a result of poor business decisions made by the merchants and made worse by the food shortage. People were upset, and he could hardly blame them. Things were not going well in the country, and as king, Adam hadn’t been able to do much to help things in the long run.

  Adam collected the last of the papers and plopped them back on the desk. For a moment he just stared at all the paper piled up, all the requisitions, the bills, treaties, and notices, and fantasized sliding all of them off of the desk onto the floor where he wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He was the King of Magid, both in good times and in bad, and he had to handle the responsibilities of managing the kingdom, even with his own troubles weighing him down. He set aside his previous thoughts and took his seat again, picking up the letter he had intended to read in one hand and reaching for his tea cup in the other. He took a sip of tea as he started to read but stopped, forcing back the cold tea and swallowing it hard.