Always Walk Forward

by Billy Wong

  "You again? What are you doing, get out of here!"

  Sam put on her most frightened voice. "There's a rat in my room, I need somebody to chase it out. Hurry, it's in my pack!"

  The man's eyes narrowed behind the slit. "You, Leg-Breaker, scared of a rat? I find it insulting you would think me so gullible. Get out. I won't say it again."

  She began to turn away with a sad expression, then heard a yelp. Eli was in danger! She looked down and pointed. "Look, the rat!"

  "What, where-" The Paladin's gaze followed hers down. She struck his head with the flat of her axe, knocking him against the wall. Before he could regain his bearings, she hit him again. He slumped to the floor and lay still.

  "Not the stupidest," she said, "but not smart enough." Of course there would be a problem when he woke up, but she had to see what was happening.

  She turned the knob and eased the door open. What she glimpsed baffled her. The pretty mage in his late twenties chased Eli around a moderately sized training room lined with practice dummies and weapon racks, maniacally screaming, "Kill me, kill me!" while swinging a flaming torch at him.

  Eli for his part looked terrified—white, breathing shallowly with bulging eyes as he frantically dodged his trainer. "Kill you? Why on earth would I want to kill you, and how would I when I don't even have a weapon?"

  "Kill me, kill me or burn like your kin did!"

  Sam didn't quite believe the mage's true purpose was to seek his own death, but whatever he was doing, she could hardly imagine his intentions not being sinister. Beginning to condition Eli into a merciless killer, perhaps? Knowing how fresh the memory of his family's deaths still was in his mind and would probably always be, seeing what Jacques did infuriated her. She stepped into the room. "Stop it! Whatever you're trying to coax out of Eli, making him relive that isn't the way to do it."

  Eli gazed hazily at her, as if waking from a nightmare. "Sam?"

  "You know nothing," Jacques said. Having never heard him speak before, she found his a surly voice, and with his hood down the permanent smirk on his delicate features conveyed a sense of conceitedness. "Do not interfere with matters you fail to understand."

  Her anger grew even more. "You should know you're a piece of shit, and fail at being a human being." She stomped forward and swatted the torch from his hand, then threw a punch. He raised a hand, and she grimaced as her knuckles slammed against what felt like a hard invisible wall. But she took her axe in both hands and swung it at the same shield, and the impact hurled the mage back into a dummy so that he fell clutching his spine. She ran over and punted him in the face, knocking him out cold. "I knew we couldn't trust those shifty Paladins. Come on, we're getting out of here." She grasped Eli's arm.

  "But-" He glanced at the dropped torch burning upon the floor and shuddered. "I guess we should."

  They turned for the door just as a tall gray-haired figure filled it. Leland. "You are going nowhere." His sword slid out of the scabbard with a harsh rasp.

  "But you said I wasn't obliged to join, and could leave if I wanted," Eli said.

  "We told you that so you would be more cooperative to start. The reality is, you are too valuable to let go."

  "How am I so valuable? Even if I'm a mage with good potential, there are surely others. It doesn't make sense to force someone to work for you who wouldn't be happy and thus won't give their best effort."

  Leland took on a thin smile. "People tend to give their best effort even when they aren't happy if survival is on the line. As for why you are so valuable, I only go by what the Lord Paladin tells me."

  Though quite aggravated with him and his order, Sam found that she believed him about his superior keeping even him in the dark. She thought it so stupid, though. "Whatever the case, we're leaving. You can either step out of the way, or I'll go through you."

  "You think you would stand a chance? You are impressive for your age, but no more than that."

  It was true what she had seen of his tussle with Giorg didn't inspire the most confidence in her. And even if she beat him, there were still ten other Paladins here with two working legs. Still, she wouldn't back down. She lowered herself into a fighting stance. "I bet Cordy when she was my age could have beaten you now."

  "Perhaps. You hang too much on the accomplishments of others, though."

  Maybe he brought up a good point, if not necessarily the one he intended. Cordy, and Drea, and Giorg, and even Drugamor—she'd relied on their strength, though the goal was to save her friend. "Then maybe today is when I'll start carving my own path."

  "Try if you wish."

  She hacked away at him. He parried her blows with ease, holding his sword in only one hand while looking down his nose at her. His nearly a foot of height advantage was quite imposing, and unlike the fat bully she fought in Patuta he matched her speed. Matched, if not exceeded it. He struck back with a flicking cut she frantically blocked, followed by a thrust that passed a hair from her neck. Her heart drummed against her ribs, her outlook already growing grim. She wished she had taken a firmer stand and had Cordy and the others help her take Eli off the Paladins' hands against his misguided wishes before. Now she was in big trouble...

  Leland sidestepped a chop from her and kneed her in the stomach, knocking her to her butt with the wind driven out of her. "Give up?"

  There is more of my power for you to take, if you so wish, Drugamor's voice said.

  Should she? She had already eaten her first nut for the day, and it was far from beginning to wear off. But she spotted other Paladins in the hall behind Leland, standing back for now in deference to their leader but no doubt ready to step in should he falter. Pushing her limits even more might be her only hope of getting out. She reached into her belt pouch and withdrew a nut. Eli asked, "Sam, what are you..?"

  "What I have to." She chewed it up and jumped to her feet, its juices sliding down her throat already energizing her. She swallowed. Her muscles filled to the bursting point with bitingly cold power. "Avatar State Level Two!"

  Leland took a half step back. "Huh?"

  She sprang, the axe rising high. "Now, bastard-" Her body seized up, and all of a sudden she couldn't move. She pitched facefirst to the floor, weapon flying from her hand. Violent spasms ripped through her, and she convulsed helplessly at Leland's feet. Something wet and putrid flowed up her throat, making it burn. Choking, she coughed out stinking vomit. Terror gripped her. Was she going to die? She had no control over her body, and her vision blurred as the shaking grew worse.

  Eli ran to kneel at her side, but seemed afraid to touch her. "Sam! What's wrong? Sam, hold on..." He finally lifted her to cradle her in his arms and stroked her hair, eyes pleading. Not even able to talk, she could only stare back at him in fear and despair.

  Drugamor, you betrayed me, she thought.

  It was you who could not handle my power. It is you who are not strong enough.

  But how was I supposed to...

  "So she got her strength from drugs?" one of the watching Paladins asked. Well, more her reflexes and pain tolerance, though it probably gave her some reckless strength too... "Do you think those older ones with her did too?"

  A colleague of his pushed him. "You mean like Lady Cordy? I don't know about the anjeli, but no way a warrior as experienced and wise as her would mess with those nuts. This girl was just being a stupid kid, trying to keep up with her stronger friends."

  "Do I sense somebody having an infatuation with Loudmouth Leg-Breaker of the Guardian Knights?"

  "Um, she's pretty!"

  Leland leaned down in front of Sam, drawing her attention away from the Paladins' conversation. "That overdose was one of the silliest things I've ever seen in a fight. So how does it feel, knowing your childish optimism amounted to nothing?"

  She spat in his face, and he raised his boot to stomp on hers. The last thought she had before it came down was, Sorry that I couldn't protect you, Eli. Then pain, and darkness.

  Chapter 9

  Sam awakene
d slowly, becoming aware of a massive throbbing in her head before anything else. So they hadn't killed her... and neither had that seizure she suffered from eating one too many nuts. She almost wished she was dead, though. Her body hurt all over, and just breathing proved painful. How did it feel even worse than when she'd been pummeled by that tavern bully, when she had barely taken a hit? Granted, her compromised lucidity might have lessened her ability to register the pain then. And maybe the Paladins had struck her some more after Leland knocked her out. She finally forced open sticky eyes to look over herself. No new bruises, so no, she probably hadn't been beaten. The spasms must've just put a lot of strain on her muscles and joints, which now made the slightest movement agony. But it was more than that, she realized. Among the places that hurt worst were still her shoulder and groin, damaged so long ago. Drugamor's power had dampened the pain there allowing her to perform at her best and then some, yet ignoring her injuries had likely caused her to aggravate them.

  She looked around. She was in a tiny cell with no windows, just a four-sided box with one side consisting of iron bars. A heavy manacle weighed down her ankle, attached by a thick chain to the back wall. Her axe was gone, of course, along with her nut pouch. She felt for it at her hip anyway, struggling to accept its absence even though she could see it wasn't there. She could no longer hear Lord Drugamor's voice. Shit... she felt so alone, not even the last help Drea left her in reach anymore. Her pulse raced with the sudden fear she would never see the outside of this cell again. It seemed a devastatingly real possibility, considering she didn't know who would even think to save her who might be able. Eli, much as she loved him, couldn't even help himself. She worried too about what else the Paladins had done with him.

  Hearing footsteps approach, she gazed out through the bars. A helmeted, faceless guard passed by. "What are you going to do to me?" she asked, her voice hoarse. He looked at her, clearly hearing her, but didn't respond and kept walking. She hugged herself, crying with pain and the knowledge of how little she'd really done. After all her pretensions, maybe her optimism had been childish, her adventure a waste of everyone's time and perhaps her own life.

  Maybe a long half hour later, maybe half a day for all she knew, heavy footsteps drew close again. Her eyes widened to see Leland stop before her cell. Though she grew hot and ground her teeth at his sight, she couldn't deny feeling a twinge of irrational relief just to see a familiar face. At least he didn't cover his, giving her one to focus her disdain on. "What are you planning to do with me?" she snarled. "How is Eli?"

  He regarded her coolly. "Still fiery, I see. I must admit, foolish as it might be, your determination coming all the way here is noteworthy. I do not know yet what your fate will be. We await word from the Lord Paladin. As for your friend, you may be glad to know he has been improving admirably after your brush with death."

  "What?" Aside from not being glad to hear he progressing in a way that suited the Paladins, she was momentarily confused. Then it dawned on her. Seeing her face mercilessly stomped must have roused anger in him, which drove him to greater aggression in his training. Her attempt to rescue him had unwittingly pushed him further along the Paladins' desired path. She felt worse and guiltier than ever. Such a failure... to have thought she could play hero, she must have been delusional.

  But she still wanted to save Eli. "I'll be a Paladin!" she said. "I've seen the light, and will gladly serve together with Eli."

  "Very wise of you. While the Guardian Knights work in the light and carry themselves like vain peacocks, we Paladins are humankind's truest line of defense." He removed a key from his belt and extended it towards the lock. Then he pulled it back and laughed at the way her face fell. "Did you actually think that would have a remote chance of working? You do show potential in your talents, but have been far too rebellious already to take such an offer from you at face value. If you do ever become one of us, which seems far fetched, it would be after you have proven without a doubt your dedication to our cause. It was amusing how your eyes brightened with hope. Even at your age, the drug must have damaged your brain more than I thought for you to display such naivete."

  She hadn't held much hope for her tactic working, actually. But when he teased her with the possibility of success, she'd allowed herself in her desperation to hope... "So what do you do with abductees you can't convert to your side, in reality? Do you murder them?"

  "Contrary to what you may want to believe, past candidates who didn't pan out were in fact released. However, your friend appears to be a special case that the Lord Paladin does not wish to let go under any circumstances."

  Sam didn't know if she should believe him about his organization's past actions. In any case though, "What's so special about him? He's just an actor, we both are. Magic potential or not, we shouldn't be such a priority to a shadowy order that purports to be the most important defenders of humanity."

  "As I've told you, I know no more of your friend than you do. But if this is the Lord Paladin's will, it has merit."

  "You're just a lapdog, blindly following orders. Is it any surprise so many of the people you 'protect' have little respect for you?"

  He shrugged. "How important is the respect of strangers really, when one knows his road is just? By the way, perhaps I would worry less about your friend and more about yourself if I were you. I hear withdrawal from that drug can be difficult." He turned and strode away, leaving her alone.

  Withdrawal? Whatever he meant by that, she shuddered to contemplate growing old and dying here in this damnable cell. She imagined Cordy, her lady knight in somewhat shiny armor, coming in, breaking the rest of the Paladins' legs and freeing her. But it felt more like a fantasy than a real hope. As the pain hit again, she curled up in a ball and wept, begging sleep to take her so that maybe she could see the playhouse which seemed so far away now.

  #

  Eli glared past the flicker of Jacques' torch at his grinning face, furious at the Paladins for hurting Sam and imprisoning her unjustly the way they had. "Kill me, kill me," the fox-faced bastard taunted, making his blood boil. He didn't want to join them anymore, wanted more to beat the daylights out of them all, free Sam and run away. But he couldn't do that, didn't know where he would even begin. They didn't let him have any weapons, and even if he by some miracle overpowered a much more well trained and seasoned Paladin with an improvised or stolen one, he would never get past a second. So without any other outlet for it, he vented his anger here in the training room while he could.

  He charged Jacques, giving no regard to the flames of the torch as he sought to wipe the smirk off that face. The mage humored him, not moving the torch into his path but just raising a hand to shield himself. Eli threw hard punches, turning his full body weight into them, which did nothing but hurt his knuckles and wrists as his fists met the hard invisible barrier. "That's good," Jacques said, "I like that spunk. Give more of it to me, more! I hunger for your rage..."

  Eli hated it. He wanted the Paladins, or at least a Paladin, to suffer and fear like he did, but all his anger seemed to do was amuse this ass. Wincing as he felt something pop in his hand, he tried to grab Jacques instead, but his fingers met the shield before reaching him and slid off like it was made of curved glass. He cursed and punched it even harder with his less injured hand, yelped and clutched his wrist at the joint-wrenching impact. "Fuck you! You call yourselves protectors of humanity? You're just evil sadists, rubbing your shriveled penises to the pain of others!" He realized tears ran down his cheeks, but didn't feel ashamed. What person couldn't be broken... he imagined even feisty Sam was now, rotting in a filthy cell like some garbage. The futility of it all weighed on him, pushing him down. His knees wobbled as he stood still, no more energy in him to fight. What was the point, there was no point. He could break every bone in his fists trying to hit the mage, but in the end nothing would change.

  "My penis hmm... if you don't kill me soon, I'll put it in your friend."

  Despite his hopelessness that ri
led him up enough to rush Jacques again with a scream. Remembering how Sam had knocked him down with an axe blow through his barrier, he figured maybe he needed to try a harder hit than a punch. He whipped his leg up in a running kick, had his war cry cut off in a whimper as the mage blocked and pain flared up in his toes as they bent too far back. He hopped on one foot, lost his balance and fell on his rump. Gah... he realized he hadn't had enough practice to kick very hard, and striking with his toes wasn't the best idea. The Paladins might not even need to break him, considering he was breaking himself on one's shield. "You coward! Why won't you fight me like a man, always hiding behind that magic crap?" Of course, Jacques would probably beat him with ease hand to hand. But at least he might have a chance at a fluke victory in a fair fight, while this bullshit...

  "Why should I give you what you want, if you can't earn it?"

  Eli tried to think. The shield Jacques used covered a limited area in front of himself, right? He had moved his arm downward in reaction to Eli's low—due to his clumsiness—kick. Maybe if he struck low again, he could get the mage's guard to dip enough to open up his upper body to attack. He hobbled upright, ran forward and aimed as low a kick as he could, more like a stomp, at Jacques' ankle. Jacques stuck his arm down parallel to his leg, stopping it. Eli saw that he had bent forward slightly and started a punch at his head, but a flash of inspiration made him grab the mage by the neck instead. A punch would just be a single hit, which likely wouldn't do lasting harm, but if he could hold onto his foe and put unrelenting pressure on him, he could do... more.