by Andrew Ly
“Sadly, I can say it’s worse for my own granddaughter. Unlike you who can run with our Garrison, she must live in exile for she is considered a threat to the Crowned Princes. I think about how she feels sometimes, always living life behind a glass prison.” Peter sighed. “I hate myself for putting her in that position, but it’s for her own good, even if she doesn’t believe it.”
“She was brought to Glenhaven after the first attack on Fyria, wasn’t she?” Nick said.
“Yes, but I relocated her once more. Poor child, always on the run, never able to stay put for very long. It’s terrible isn’t it? She’s never had any real friends all because she had the curse of being born in this family.”
“At least she has a grandfather who loves her deeply and is willing to do anything for her,” Nick said.
“I appreciate that, my boy. I don’t know, sometimes I think I’m making all these mistakes. I’ve never had to raise someone so rebellious,” Peter said.
“That’s not true, you had to raise me.”
The old man chuckled, and a smile crossed his wrinkled face.
“Most humans are narrow-minded creatures in that they only see what they’ve been taught to see. You know you’ve always been a son to me, Nick. No matter what anyone says, you’re not a monster,” Peter said.
Nick nodded. “Alyssa was her name, right? Alyssa Masters. It has a nice ring to it. I’m sorry I never got the chance to meet her.”
“I’m damn glad you didn’t,” Peter said, “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let her near a punk like you.”
Nick couldn’t contain his urge to laugh, and soon they were both laughing raucously. Even in the most serious circumstances, Peter could always change the flow of the conversation and make things easier.
“Will you be coming back on schedule?” Nick asked after their laughter settled.
“Fyria is very far and it will be even longer because we’ve decided to take an alternate route to avoid an unwanted confrontation. Bartholomew thinks it will be approximately three months we’re expecting to be stationed there. Should any problems arise in my absence, you can always contact us,” Peter said.
“Bergice…I still can’t believe it. Once he’s taken care of, it’ll only time be a matter of time before the other two remaining members reveal themselves,” Nick said.
“Hopefully not too soon…for our sakes.”
Two senior knights came into the room, and helped Peter carry his supplies, with the exception of the long sword lying on the table. It was Peter’s most prized weapon. He picked it up with one arm and slung it behind his back.
“Promise you’ll be on your best behavior, boy. If anything happens, I want a full report as soon as possible, understand?” Peter said.
Nick bowed. “Yes, Supreme Commander. Have a safe journey.” With that, Peter was gone.
He gazed over Peter’s desk as he walked around, only the sound of his boots squeaking across the marble floor. Three months without Peter. The knights on their way to Fyria would be tested and pushed to their limits in combat, all while he sat safely behind the veil of the Holy Shield, behind an impenetrable fortress. The protection this stronghold offered was unparalleled. They said no demon could breach these walls. That was proven false when Doctor Numerous broke through and led an army and a Crowned Prince to siege Fyria.
Nick went to his room and pulled his suitcase from his closet. He emptied his drawers for the bare essentials and packed them all away. He had to leave before Matt, Daniel, or Paul returned. If he was going to Fyria, he had to go without their help or knowledge.
Maybe he wasn’t ready, but maybe he was. If he hadn’t killed a demon yet it was because he was always hiding behind in the comfort of the Garrison base and never venturing out and doing what needed to be done. He was going to find Doctor Numerous and Bergice and kill them personally, just like the prophecy predicted. But before he made the journey, he had to visit Quinn one last time.
He drove to her house and knocked. No sooner did she open the door did she leap into his arms and embrace him in a warm hug. When they separated he noticed she was wearing an apron. Over her shoulder, he saw freshly cooked vegetables and meats on the table. Her face was red and her eyes were puffy. She must have been crying for some time.
“What’s wrong Red?”
“I just saw the news announcement,” she sniffed. “I thought you would have been gone by now.”
“No, not yet. I wanted to say goodbye,” Nick said.
“But the news said everyone already left. Don’t tell me you’re planning on going alone?”
“I have to.”
“Then I’m going with you,” Quinn said.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Because I’m acting impulsive like you? Sleep on it tonight, and if you still feel the same way tomorrow then I won’t stop you.”
“Alright.”
After the meal Nick was left with dread in the pit of his stomach, unable to sleep with all these thoughts rushing through his brain. Quinn was sleeping soundly with her head nuzzled comfortably on his lap. He thought about just taking off, but he didn’t want to go without at least saying goodbye. How were the others doing? Paul and Daniel were probably going off the deep end, wondering where he had gone. Paul probably put Matt through a line of questioning for his whereabouts and he probably reasoned that he left to visit Quinn for the night, thinking nothing else of it. It would all come to a shock when he didn’t return in a few a days. Nick imagined the looks on their faces when they found he had disabled the vehicle tracking device.
Nick wasn’t looking for a companion on this trip. In fact, the less people involved the better. If he was alone no one would ever get hurt.
He woke up covered in drool, unaware that he even fell asleep. Quinn was nowhere in sight. She must have relented. Nick crept out quietly, only to find to her sitting in the passenger seat of the car.
“Quinn…”
“I said I wouldn’t stop you, but I never said I wasn’t coming along. So let’s get going, Emberson. We don’t have all day.”
Nick shook his head and smiled. He got into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and without another word they were on their way.
10. Dolere Flos
Passing through Hyperion was a bit of a sidetrack to Fyria. And though it wasn’t exactly the fastest route, the roads between the cities were protected by powerful holy magic, which made it the safest. Driving down the long strip of road, Nick saw different Hellbeasts trying to break through the invisible holy wall that acted as a barrier between certain death and destruction.
Inside the city walls, they needed to grab some supplies for both food and shelter for the long journey. Nick stopped at a busy downtown market.
Having Quinn would actually be quite beneficial to this journey. Her strong knowledge in demon history from living nearby Thorne for so many years could provide great insight on enemies he either forgot or had never heard about. Her cooking skills were vastly superior to his, and having someone to talk to would keep his mind sharp. To top it off, he got to spend time with her, which was the main reason why he was hesitant to leave in the first place.
They walked around the markets hand in hand, stocking up on tents and toiletries. Afterward, they found a boutique for stylish female clothing, and finally a supermarket where they could pick up fresh groceries. When they couldn’t find the necessary ingredients for a special dish Quinn had in mind, they explored other shops until they did.
The whole time Nick couldn’t help but notice that downtown Hyperion was very different from Glenhaven. People were always on the move, walking in and out of stores and along the streets, never slowing to appreciate the beautiful scenery. This was typical behavior for city people since there weren’t any familiar faces or “usual” customers, and everyone seemed to go about their own business. Hyperion itself felt hollow, as if it lacked a heart or warmth which gave the city an almost foreboding impression.
Howeve
r, the biggest difference between these people and the Glenhaven residents was the people here seemed to hold an intense grudge against Garrisons, and were quite vocal about their dislike of knights. He couldn’t walk past a single person without hearing a rude remark or chides against his way of life. It angered him, but he kept his emotions in check to avoid causing an unwanted commotion. Luckily, he made it a habit to never wear his official uniform and could just blend in anywhere.
“Why does everyone here hate us?” Nick asked quietly, as they past another obnoxious anti-Garrison couple to enter a supermarket.
“There are a lot of reasons,” Quinn said. “They think having such a strong military power can infringe upon their freedom. You know, if you think about it, it’s kind of justified too. I mean, protection is nice, but at what cost? Also, many people here had family members who lost their live during service in the wars. That’s why people enjoy living in cities that are strictly civilian—they prefer to live without the reminder of bloodshed.”
“They wouldn’t be talking that way if this place didn’t have a Holy Shield. If you ask me, they complain because they have it too easy. They’ve never had to ward off a demon attack or been put through the psychological trauma of taking a life,” Nick replied.
“That may be true, but I also want peace. What better way than by becoming a living example?” Quinn picked up a small shopping basket.
“I think you would fit right in here with Garreth,” Nick said.
“Oh right, bring up the ex-boyfriend just because he lives down the road.” Quinn tossed a few cans of soup into the bin.
“Well, as the current boyfriend, don’t you think I’m entitled to ask some questions? Unless you’re too afraid to answer them…” Nick said.
“Go ahead, ask away.” Quinn put a few packs of potato chips in the basket.
“Okay, what ever happened to him to make him hate the Garrison so much? I’ve never seen such resentment.”
“That’s easy. Unlike the people here, Garreth was originally a part of a Garrison and loved everything about the holy knights. He was in the Wisdom Unit, and a genius whitesmith. His parents were also the ones who invented the Holy Shield. When the time came, and an archangel named Gabriel had to choose an apprentice, he was supposedly the prime candidate. But unfortunately for him, the Supreme Commander of the Glenhaven Garrison advised Gabriel against it. Garreth lost his dreams, and the rest is history.”
“Yeah, he told us the last time we visited. To be rejected like that…it must have crushed him,” Nick said.
“It was worse because Gabriel is his older brother. Being turned away in favor of Paul broke his heart. He was never the same person.”
Nick was at a loss for words. Gabriel was Garreth’s brother? In all his years, Nick found it strange that he had never heard the archangel mention a sibling of any kind. Then again, it was easy for him to hide it, considering most members of the Garrison were discouraged from divulging too much personal information in the event they got captured and demons could use that information against them. Even still, it was almost cruel to not acknowledge you had a brother.
“Any more questions?” Quinn dumped the basket of meats and vegetables on the cashier’s counter.
Nick shook his head. “No that’s all the information I need for one day.” They purchased the groceries and walked back to the car to load everything.
Once they were back on the road, Nick rolled down his windows and turned up the mood music, letting it blare on his way out of the plaza. As soon as he pulled back onto the road the Fyria, however, he was caught in a major traffic jam. He slammed on the brakes, bringing it to a screeching halt. All the cars were at a complete stop and people were leaving in droves in all directions. From up ahead came roars that sounded like animals. Screams echoed downtown, with groups of people rushing out the doors of stores and buildings, their faces gripped with fear.
“Demons!” they cried.
“Help us! Please!”
“Someone call the Garrison!”
Nick peered through the windshield. There they were: Hellbeasts. They appeared to be wolves and they looked hungry. But how could they have broken through the shield?
He turned to Quinn. “Stay here. Roll up the windows. Lock the doors.”
“There’s too many for you, you can’t go alone!”
“It’s my responsibility to make sure these people get away safely. Just stay here and don’t make and sudden movements.”
Nick stepped out of his car before she could protest further. Leaving it parked in the intersection along with all the other abandoned vehicles, he ran into mass of fleeing people and came across the beasts—ten of them—combing the streets, searching for their prey. They weren’t wolves, but hounds. The difference was insignificant. They were still carnivorous demons.
These beasts looked absolutely disgusting. Three times bigger than normal hounds, roughly equivalent to the size of a car, their fur coats appeared as if they had been eaten alive, like rotten corpses. Overly grown fangs protruded from their mouths. Their eyes were red, mirroring his own as a demon. He could see by the way their mouths were dripping with saliva that they were thirsty. What could he do? Calling for help was out of the question. Judging from their expressions, they were keen to strike at any given moment. He knew what he had to do.
“Over here!” Nick waved his hands, trying to draw their attention. But it was of no avail. They were too fixated on the grand feast of screaming people up and down the street to bother with him. Maybe there was a way around that. Quinn and the others were far enough away to see him now and with the ensuing mayhem keeping everyone busy he was free to become what he was meant to be. He lit his hands into flames, and immediately reunited with Agrian. With a demon back in the driver’s seat he could cut loose and make short work of these beasts.
As soon as he transformed, the hounds stopped their assault on the humans, and tilted their heads at Nick, looking at him with an odd curiosity. Have they never seen the Inferno Bearer before? Perhaps his status as one of the Crowned Princes of demons meant he had some control over these mutts.
Wishful thinking. As soon as the thought entered his mind they snarled and snapped at him. Several long and black, spiderlike tendrils emerged from their backs, making them look even more monstrous. The tendrils whipped the air antagonistically. A confrontation was imminent.
It was time to show what hours and practice controlling his fire abilities in the training room could do in a life or death situation. From getting started to using them efficiently, they were all linked to his current state of mind. He had to produce the negative emotion of rage and use it as fuel for powering Agrian. It made sense when he figured it out, considering his title was the Lord of Rage. However, to keep things in control, he started off small. Minor spurts of anger or annoyances were the stepping points he used before they snowballed into stronger feelings of frustration, which eventually made him resentful, which in turn created a festering ball of fury. He kept this frame of thought and built on these emotions until it reached its peak and evolved into the strongest negative feeling of all, the uninhibited animalistic desire for destruction.
It worked like a charm.
The pack flew at him, but the distance between them gave him more than enough time to react. He caught the leader of the pack by the jaws and flung him into a vacant car. Two others darted at him on both sides, but he dove forward into a somersault, narrowly escaping getting ripped in half by their sharp jaws. But he was careless, and ended up in range of another dog. It took a huge bite into his arm, gnawing deep as Nick spun to shake him off, slamming it into another hound.
His right sleeve was torn, revealing his bleeding arm. Rookie mistake. A real knight would never have been so easily thrown off guard. A real knight would be able to tear through these beasts with his sword, like scissors cutting paper. He didn’t have a sword, but he was a knight and now was time to prove it. He baited them to come at him in a group before igniting
a flaming wall, which burned the eager two to ashes. Three to go. He leapt through the fire and caught one of the dogs by the neck. The tendrils from its body whipped at him, but wilted after Nick snapped its neck in his arms. The cracking sound of bones alerted the remaining two who were hesitant now, whimpering in fear. Perhaps if he wasn’t so enraged, he’d have shown some mercy. But Nick was so far away from mercy now. He punched one of them as hard as he could with a flaming knuckle, sending its burning carcass down the street. The leader of the pack and last one remaining, pounced at him, but he dodged and grabbed the creature from behind. The tendrils latched around his neck, attempting to choke him, but one swift fiery punch to the side of the animal forced it to relinquish its grip. The Hellbeast staggered a few steps before it toppled over, blood escaping from its torso. It finally died with a raspy gurgle.
Behind him the fire wall he created still roared with life, but with his powers he extinguished the flames as fast as he created them. The training he had paid off, and he was pleased with how much control he had developed just a few short months. However, it was too soon to be counting his progress as he still had other duties to fulfill. Like where were the other five of the pack?
As Nick walked around the abandoned shopping center, his priority was looking for any survivors left behind. He didn’t want to leave anything to chance. He cleared out every store, finding either nothing or the bodies of the already deceased. Eventually he stumbled upon an old mom and pop establishment that had its windows shattered. He walked in, the bell chime sounding his arrival. Nick heard someone groaning and walked to the counter.
The shopkeeper, an elderly gentleman with glasses lay motionless, giant horizontal slash wounds across his chest. They appeared to be four fingered claw marks, with a width much wider than the wolves.
“Sir, let me get you to a hospital,” Nick said.
When Nick knelt to help him up, the man groaned. “Get out here, kid…”
Upon closer inspection of the man’s body, his dark red stained clothes indicated he had suffered much blood loss. It was sending him into a state of shock. He had to take the man to the hospital quickly, but judging by how long much time had elapsed, the man was almost out of time.
