by Brandon Chen
Keimaro’s heart pounded as he turned to watch the prince vanish from view into the groups of nobles. He could see the worry glistening in Aika’s eyes after hearing what Darius had said, but he gave her a nod to reassure her that everything would be all right. Right now they just had to enjoy this night.
He inhaled deeply and felt Aika’s gloved fingers gently lace through his. Before he knew it, the princess was pulling him to the dance floor, and all thoughts of the prince vanished from his mind. He had other things to worry about.
“Oh, gods,” he muttered to himself, frightened at the mere thought of having to dance in front of all of these judgmental nobles around him. It was more frightening than having to face an army of soldiers. The sound of violins played loudly as a tune picked up, and soon nobles were leading partners to the dance floor as well.
Aika turned around to face Keimaro and gripped one of his hands, putting her other arm around his waist. Noblemen in the crowds who watched this event simply gaped in awe, incredulous that this commoner boy was given the chance to dance with such a pure, beautiful, intellectual being.
The nervous boy wasn’t particularly positive about how to dance, but he had heard this tune before, and Judal had given him a quick crash course on how to dance to a few popular songs that were usually played at royal balls. He was a fast learner, but even for him it was difficult to master such fast movements. Please, don’t mess up! Keimaro begged himself as the music began and the nobles moved all in unison, one with the music.
Keimaro gripped the princess’s hand and placed his other hand on her waist as they began to move with the music, stepping to the side with every beat. He blinked when he noticed that he and the princess were moving as one, flowing like water. To be honest, it wasn’t as hard as he had imagined it. It was simply listening to the music and moving accordingly. He could probably have winged this without even learning the steps—and, without a doubt, he had impressed Aika because she wore an expression of surprise and glee. Keimaro smiled, remembering the specific moment when he was supposed to twirl her. The moment came, and he reached up and twirled the princess elegantly, her dress spinning and her jewelry gleaming. She shined like a star out of all of the dancers as she spun about. When she slowed, Keimaro pulled her close to him and their eyes locked. Heat rose to his cheeks, and he gave her a bright grin, confident and happy with his performance in the dance. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
***
Darius watched Riku as he danced with his younger sister, feeling no emotional attachment to the princess whatsoever. In fact, he didn’t feel anything when he looked at his own father. All he wanted was the throne that he so deserved. He sighed as he leaned against the wall of the ballroom, watching the couple twirl about on the dance floor. “So, shall we begin, General?” he said with a nod to the man standing beside him.
“We shall,” General Mundo said with a small smile. “The first step to our plan has begun.”
***
As night fell, Yuri’s gloomy eyes glared through the window of Aladdin’s room out onto the fresh grass that gleamed underneath the moonlight. His hands were tightened around the hilt of a silver dagger, and his eyes were red with anger. Another day that Lena had been left to suffer and Keimaro had done nothing about it. He had to act.
The boy watched as nobles piled through the castle doors, disgusted with the fact that Keimaro was off partying rather than doing something about the situation at hand. Perhaps the idiot had forgotten about Lena. Yuri was truly wrong to have put his faith into Keimaro this whole time. He leapt out of the window and landed heavily on the grass below, beginning to walk forward without feeling a single bit of pain from the drop. It didn’t matter how many enemies or soldiers there were. Even with Lena as weight, he could still escape. He would run off into the Forbidden Forest if he had to.
Yuri made his way around the side of the castle as Keimaro had instructed and located the doorway to the underground royal jail. It wasn’t particularly heavily guarded from the outside so as not to draw any attention. But Yuri knew that there would be a lot of forces on the inside. Perhaps he should release all of the criminals in order to create enough chaos to escape with Lena unnoticed. Would that really work? The boy pulled his hood over his head, his white hair swaying before his turquoise eyes as he walked across the grassy courtyard toward the doorway.
The two guards standing on patrol took notice of Yuri and unsheathed their weapons, holding them out in defense as the dark figure continued forward. “Stop, in the name of the king!” one of the soldiers demanded. “What is your business here?”
Yuri’s arm flickered, and two throwing knives hurled from his sleeves and buried themselves into the throats of both guards, silencing them. They collapsed in a heap on the grass, their blood staining the plants. Yuri didn’t bother to touch the corpses and simply stepped over them, continuing onward to the jail. He grasped the doorknob and raised his eyebrow when he saw that it was locked. A small slide near the top of the door slid aside, and a pair of eyes replaced it.
“Who’s there?” a man’s voice growled.
Yuri responded by kicking the door with a tremendous amount of force, ripping it off of its hinges and crushing the man behind it in a swift moment. With a loud creak, the door slid down the stairs, the corpse underneath. The werewolf continued forward, stepping on the broken door, and moved into the darkness. Within moments, the shadows began to swallow him and he found himself in pitch-blackness. His hands were clenched at his sides as his eyes began to glow a beastly red. I’m going to save her and kill all of these bastards that made her suffer. They’ll all pay for this!
“Now, now,” a voice said from in front of Yuri. “That’s not exactly the right thoughts to be having, is it?”
Yuri’s eyes widened when an image flickered before him. He hadn’t seen this coming. How was it possible? A fist collided with his diaphragm and sent him rocketing through the air and back up the stairway from whence he came. He gasped, flying through the doorway and smashing into the courtyard, ripping dirt from the ground as he rolled head over heels at an uncontrollable speed. He jammed his feet into the ground as he tried to catch his foothold, but maintaining balance at such speeds was near impossible. He fell once more and landed heavily on his back, panting and gasping for breath. His eyes were wide with shock at what had just happened. That was no ordinary punch. No human could throw me this far. That had to be a Bount! But what the hell are they doing here?
***
Keimaro was enjoying himself and laughing with Aika as he twirled her once more on the dance floor. He dipped her finally, bringing her close to the ground. He held her tightly, and she blinked a few times at the advanced move. By now, the rest of the nobles had gathered around to watch the two dance. Though Keimaro had lacked confidence in his dancing prior to coming to this ball, he was already the star.
The ground rumbled, and Keimaro quickly pulled the princess back to her feet, glancing around at the castle. The glasses were rattling around them as thundering explosions echoed from outside. What is this? An earthquake? That was when Keimaro remembered. Yuri.
“Princess, get to safety immediately. I’ll be right back. Make sure everyone stays inside!” Keimaro yelled, beginning to sprint through the crowds of nobles that separated at the sight of him. If this was Yuri, he would have to put on his mask in order to make sure that soldiers didn’t see him protecting a rebel. That would blow his cover immediately. He broke into a sprint out of the door and ran past Judal, who glanced at him.
“Where the hell are you going? We need to stay and guard the princess! Let the rest of the guard handle it!” Judal yelled.
“I have a feeling something bad is going to happen if I don’t get out there!” Keimaro called over his shoulder as he dashed the hallways toward his room. He hoped that Judal wasn’t following him. Thankfully, he didn’t. What the hell was Yuri thinking? What was all this noise that he was making? The entire castle was shaking, leaving Keimaro wit
h the uncomfortable feeling that something was happening beyond Yuri causing chaos. Someone out there was matching Yuri’s power. A Bount.
Keimaro staggered into his room and slammed the door shut behind him, ripping off his tuxedo and tossing it onto his mattress. He reached under his bed, pulled out his cloak, and swiftly threw it over his body. Reaching into his cloak, he took out his mask. The boy exhaled as he looked through the eye-holes of the pale-white mask. He had to put this thing on again. He slid the mask over his face and grunted as it began to attach itself to his flesh, binding with his skin. He breathed, his voice completely altered now to become a deep metallic echo. He stepped outward and onto the windowsill of his room, where he admired the brilliant view once more. Here we go.
The boy leapt out of his window and out into open air, flipping through the free space. His black cloak flapped in the wind, and his hair blew back, his eyes squinting as he soared down the side of the tower, falling near the castle. He kicked outward and ejected a jet of flame behind him that sent him flying sideways diagonally through the air rather than simply straight down. As the Shokugan activated in his eyes, he began to feel an abnormal burn in his chest. He winced, grasping at his heart for a moment before the pain faded.
Looking over the grounds, he spotted Yuri battling a black-cloaked figure. A Bount. Not just any ordinary Bount. It’s him. Keimaro’s eyes widened when he saw the bald man cackle aloud, a familiar laugh that pierced his eardrums. “Junko!” he roared, releasing more flames behind him to propel himself forward.
***
Yuri panted, his ribs aching from Junko’s blows. The bald man was extremely fast, and his magic controlled darkness to the point where even Yuri didn’t know its limits. It was nighttime, and the Bount was at his strongest. Would he even stand a chance against this guy? He didn’t have unlimited time. Soon, soldiers would come by and overwhelm them, and they would both probably be captured. That was not the best plan.
“Well, isn’t this a tale of beauty and the beast!” Junko laughed hysterically, putting a finger to the bridge of his nose. “The werewolf is trying to save a starving beauty underneath the castle! My, my, Yuri! I’ve always seen you as the angry type, but recently you’ve been all calm and collected. Where’s the fun in that?” He shrugged in an exaggerated fashion. “Come on, my big, burly beast! Show me the rage!”
“Don’t piss me off, baldy,” Yuri snarled, his teeth sharpening to daggers, his eyes red like two hot coals. “I’ll rip you apart—”
“Then do it!” Junko urged him, still giggling. “Go on!”
“Junko!” a deep, echoing voice roared, and Yuri glanced up to see Keimaro coming downward at incredible speed—and it looked like he didn’t intend to stop. Jets of flame emitted from the boy’s feet as he slammed into Junko at full speed, obliterating the earth with a giant explosion. The two figures began to skip across the royal courtyard like skipping stones, bouncing off of the earth and smashing clumsily into the mansions of nobles. Massive chunks of debris fell to the earth as the ground began to rumble from the force of explosions. Any ordinary human would’ve died from such a fall.
Yuri watched as dozens of people began to run from their homes in the noble district, sprinting in the direction of the castle, where they hoped their king would offer refuge. Others ran in the direction of the city in an attempt to escape the battlefield entirely. Yuri stared for a moment at the destruction before racing after Keimaro and Junko to see the results of the explosion.
***
An endless ringing echoed in Keimaro’s ears as he blinked a few times. Dust floated around him, and he could see pieces of debris everywhere. Flickering flames licked the ground, eating away at the courtyard’s grass. Two shadowy figures were exchanging blows, their silhouettes the only thing that Keimaro could see. It was Yuri fighting Junko without a doubt. The boy began to roll onto his hands and knees, his bones aching. He had survived the huge fall, but even he questioned the logic behind that. He understood that he was a member of the Hayashi clan, so he would survive things that ordinary humans wouldn’t. But the jump from the top of the castle to the bottom was farther than anything he had ever tried before, not to mention the fact that he had driven Junko through multiple mansions and destroyed most of the courtyard. What kind of an idiot enters a fight like that?
Keimaro pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly. He watched as one of the silhouettes knocked the other to the ground with a swift punch. The shadow turned and began to walk in his direction. The boy’s breath was heavy, echoing through his mask. He grasped the hilt of his sword and slid it from his sheath. His eyes widened when he saw that it was Junko who emerged from the clouds of dust. How is this possible? He should have been extremely injured from my landing. How did he defeat Yuri?
“Like this,” Junko said, reading the young boy’s mind and pointing over Keimaro’s shoulder.
A burst of blood splattered onto Keimaro’s chin and throat. His heart was pounding rapidly, and his breath became heavy, transforming into gasps of pain. A steel blade protruded from his stomach, skewering straight through his body as if he were nothing but a slab of meat. His eyes were wide with fear as he watched Junko, all of his energy draining as the blade slowly slid back out of his body. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto his knees, his eyes dazed. Who…?
“Oh my, oh my!” Darius’s cheerful voice said as the prince walked around Keimaro with a chuckle, tapping his sword to his shoulder. The blade was completely coated in Keimaro’s blood. “It seems that it didn’t take as long as I thought it would to eliminate the infamous Keimaro Hayashi,” he said, reaching down on the ground and grasping the golden locket that had dropped from his cloak. “Ah. Or should I say Riku Hikari?”
General Mundo stepped onto the other side of Keimaro from the smokescreen of dust. He drove his fist into the boy’s face, and the mask shattered, leaving Keimaro in splintering pain as it crumpled to pieces on the grass. The boy fell onto his back, crimson liquid coating the ground beneath him. “It wasn’t hard to make you come out of the shadows after all, Keimaro. I have been watching you for a while.”
All of these guys work with the Bounts? Keimaro’s eyes darted from Mundo to Junko to Darius. He never would’ve guessed that Darius would’ve been with the Bounts. As for General Mundo, he’d had his suspicions, but now it was too late. Mundo had been the one spying on him in the library. Mundo had been the one to set up this fight with Darius, to force Keimaro to use his Shokugan in front him. Everything was all planned out. And he had fallen right into the trap.
“Drag him to the ballroom,” Darius said with a smile, reaching down to Keimaro and grasping the small chain that hung from around his neck. The key had been hidden in his shirt, but it was quickly yanked out from his neck. It dangled from the prince’s hands in front of Keimaro. “So much conflict over such a small item, hmm? Junko, go get me the chest. It’s time to end this and bring forth, finally, my age of darkness.”
An Age of Darkness
By the time Keimaro actually reached the ballroom, he was beginning to lose consciousness. His hands were covered in his own blood, and the nobles gasped in shock at the grotesque image as he was dragged before the king, who stood in complete disbelief. Keimaro was thrown forward and hit the floor with tremendous force, left in a daze. The marble floor was cold, and he didn’t bother moving. He could hear Aika’s muffled screams as she attempted to rush forward, but guards held her back.
“What is the meaning of this?” the king demanded.
“This is your infamous Keimaro Hayashi, milord. Why,” General Mundo said, grabbing Keimaro by his hair and forcing his hair back for the king to see his face, “you can even see bits of the mask on his face. We caught him for you, as you ordered.”
“Riku?” the king said, shocked. “But if he were Keimaro … he could’ve assassinated me this entire time. Why would he wait? You…,” he said, looking at Darius as he sauntered through the crowds of nobles. “Darius?”
A knife
hurled through the air, burying itself in the king’s throat and slamming the old man to the ground. His choking sound was drowned out by the screams of terror from the noble audience. However, no one was allowed to leave the ballroom. The guards had made sure of that.
Darius walked over to his father’s sapped body and reached down to look into the royal blue of his father’s dying eyes. Within moments, the king was dead. The prince’s face bore not a single sign of remorse, for it was completely devoid of emotion. He simply reached down and picked up the crown off of the fallen king’s head. In a single moment, the entire ballroom silenced. Aika stood staring in absolute shock, her lips quivering at her father’s corpse. Then she turned her attention to Keimaro, who was bleeding out in front of him. She rushed to him, shoving guards aside. Her father was gone … but at least she might be able to save Keimaro.
General Mundo simply smiled and allowed Keimaro to be cradled in the princess’s arms, taking a step back as he nodded to Darius.
“I am your new king,” Darius boomed, placing the crown upon his head. “Those who oppose me as their ruler step forth now. My father is no longer capable of upholding his throne, nor is he worthy of this crown.”
“And neither are you!” a noble yelled.
Darius raised an eyebrow in amusement at the comment and chuckled, nodding his head. He clicked his fingers, and guards grabbed the man and forced him onto his knees. The noble shook, terrified, as he stared at the ground, unable to meet Darius’s cold gaze. The new king began to slowly pace with his hands behind his back. He stopped in front of the noble.
“Everyone else will now bow before the new king. Bow.” On command, all of the people in the room fell to their knees, bowing before their new king. Some were more reluctant than others. Some had to be forced onto their knees by guards. Darius unsheathed his sword with a swift motion and raised his blade over his head. “You see, this is the fate of those who oppose me.” His blade slashed downward, tearing across the noble’s chest. Blood spurted into the air as the man screamed in agony, doubling over onto the ground. Nobody moved forward to help him as he bled out on the marble floor—they feared for their own lives. In only moments, he was dead.
