Rise of the Whiteface Order

by M. A. Torres

  Why is Zander out on the streets on Christmas Eve? Is he so poor he needs to steal, pawn, and recycle aluminum cans to survive?

  Kevin could think of nothing else the rest of the way home.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine:

  Aura

  “Spin it! Again!” ordered Mr. Chew.

  Matthew spun the pole overhead. It fell to the ground after just two twirls. “I can’t get any more than two, Sensei!” he argued.

  “Well, of course not! But you asked for accelerated lessons, I do think! These are accelerated lessons!”

  Matthew sighed. “Sorry, Sensei. You’re right, let’s do it your way.”

  Jake scowled as Kevin shook his head.

  “If you plan on fighting with yari, you need to learn to crawl before you learn to run,” scolded Mr. Chew.

  “Yeah, Matt Bratt!” added Jake.

  Mr. Chew flashed an angry stare at Jake.

  “Sorry, Sensei.”

  Jake and Kevin resumed their sparring.

  Mr. Chew turned back to Matthew. “The yari is a difficult weapon to master, Matthew! You cannot take any shortcuts, or your first one-on-one fight will be your last.”

  Matthew nodded.

  “So, you need a wide stance!” Mr. Chew tapped Matthew’s feet until he widened them to his satisfaction.

  “Just like with katana, your stance must be wide to give you balance. Balance to block, balance to parry, and balance to strike!”

  Matthew nodded diligently.

  Mr. Chew walked to his counter and returned, holding a shiny blue bowling ball. “Here, hold this.”

  Kevin and Jake couldn’t help but watch with curiosity.

  Matthew grabbed the bowling ball. “Okay, Sensei.”

  “Now lift it to shoulder level! Elbows straight!”

  Matthew did as he was told. After a few seconds of holding the bowling ball, his arms started to tremble. He pressed his lips with effort.

  “Hold... hold...” instructed Mr. Chew.

  Matthew shut his eyes. The muscles in his neck were bulging, and his face had become redder than Robbie’s hair.

  “Now bring it close!” hollered Mr. Chew.

  Matthew pulled his arms in, bringing the bowling ball into his body. He opened his eyes, relieved that the strain had finally resolved.

  “To be a great yari warrior, you must be strong in your arms and strong in your upper back. During wartime, yari warriors held their yaris for hours, thrusting and parrying, until the war was won or until they fell in defeat.”

  “Yes, Sensi...”

  “A yari warrior needs to be stronger than a katana warrior. A katana is lighter. If you fight a katana warrior with a yari, you have the reach, but the katana warrior has the endurance.” Mr. Chew held a finger to Matthew’s face. “You must not go into battle with a disadvantage. Because of that, you must strengthen, I do think! Extend your arms!”

  Matthew straightened his elbows once again, moving the bowling ball away from his body. The painful strain resumed.

  Jake and Kevin exchanged a glance, pity present in their eyes.

  Mr. Chew left Matthew’s side and turned his attention to the other two. Behind him, Matthew began to lose his battle with the bowling ball. His arms lowered with exhaustion.

  “Arms up, Matthew!” hollered Mr. Chew without having seen him.

  Matthew grunted with effort and raised them again.

  “Kevin, practice your phase-two strikes while I get Jake started,” instructed Mr. Chew.

  “Yes, Sensei.”

  “Jake, you will learn the stance phase first. Large war hammer is like a greatsword, I do think. Both are two-handed weapons, and both are powerful, meant to bust through armor. You need a wide stance too.”

  Jake widened his stance.

  “Good. Now take this.”

  Mr. Chew handed him a makeshift lumber ax. Its iron edge was wrapped with duct tape and felt heavier than a standard ax. Jake held it like he did Tombstone, and its weight was indeed similar to his magical weapon.

  “This feels good, Sensei,” he acknowledged. “Feels like the real thing.”

  “Oh, you held a real war hammer before?” asked Mr. Chew.

  Jake glanced at Kevin.

  “Don’t lie, Jake. Mr. Chew can tell when you lie.”

  Jake nodded. “Yes, Sensei. I’ve held one before.”

  “Do you own one?”

  Jake looked around, trying to think of how to best answer him.

  “Nothing wrong with owning a war hammer, Jake,” said Mr. Chew. “If you are a good and responsible kid, and you keep the weapon away from children.”

  Jake nodded. “Yes sir, I mean, yes, Sensei. I have one at home.”

  “Good! Then next time you bring it. We practice with it instead of this lumber ax!”

  Jake turned to Kevin, smiling with excitement.

  Before long, all three were busy with their individual drills. Mr. Chew had specific tasks for each, and Matthew was finally allowed to practice with his makeshift spear. He worked on striking and parrying, as well as blocking and counterstrikes. Jake learned more two-handed swing combinations with the lumber ax, and Kevin practiced his combo swings.

  By then end of practice, all three were drenched, and the smell of armpit permeated throughout the dojo. The boys stood by the edge of the great room, gathering themselves and donning their coats.

  “Seriously, Jake, you need to wear deodorant,” suggested Matthew.

  “It’s not me, it’s you, Matt Bratt!”

  “No, it’s not! I wear deodorant. I know, for a fact, you don’t. I smelled this stench back in Derathiel, after the battle at the Hill of the Dead Gods!”

  “It wasn’t me! There were tons of other people there, including Kevin! It could have been him!”

  Kevin sniffed his armpit. “No, it’s not me!”

  Jake raised his arm and smelled his pit. “Oh... yeah. It is me.”

  Before they left the dojo, they met with Mr. Chew to bid him farewell.

  “I will open sword training to the public next week. Please tell your friends at school. I give them a good price, I do think,” he said.

  ‘Yes, Sensei. Thank you.’

  Mr. Chew bowed. The three boys returned the bow.

  “LOVE YOUR NEW BIKE, Kevin. Is that what you got for Christmas?” wondered Jake.

  “Kind of. Got it a couple of days before.”

  The three boys rode through the parking lot of the strip mall. They reached the nearby intersection, where Matthew and Jake prepared to ride north. Kevin paused and turned his bike in the opposite direction.

  “You guys ride on, I need to go do something,” he told them.

  Matthew and Jake exchange a glance.

  “Where are you going?” asked Jake.

  “Guys, I saw Zander climb out of a trash bin on Christmas Eve. He was collecting cans.”

  His friends stood silent, staring ahead, unsure of what to say.

  “Christmas Eve, guys! He was out there alone! I know he steals and pawns things for money, too,” continued Kevin. “I was going to stop by his trailer, give him something.”

  Jake nodded. Matthew scratched his head.

  “He’s a jerk. He probably deserves it!” said Matthew.

  Kevin shook his head. “Guys, he’s not really a jerk.”

  His friends stood silent.

  “You guys ride home. I need to do this.”

  Jake shook his head. “No. We’re going with you.”

  Matthew frowned. Jake elbowed him. “Oh, yeah, Kevin! We’ll go with you. That part of town is dangerous,” he said while rubbing his side.

  “Just go home. Seriously.” Kevin turned his bike and pedaled away.

  Jake scowled at Matthew before taking off after Kevin. Matthew sighed and followed.

  They rode for some time before turning south on Greenward Road. The evening snowfall and traffic were light, making the trek fast and smooth. They soon reached another strip mall when Kevin stopped his bike.
Matthew and Jake paused just behind him.

  “What’s wrong? Why did you stop?” asked Jake.

  “Look,” Kevin pointed towards the strip mall.

  Zander and his crew were walking towards a pawn shop. Billy and Luke each carried loaded plastic bags. Zander carried an expensive-looking life-sized Christmas elf he had no doubt stolen off someone’s lawn. Jake stared at Kevin with confusion. Matthew was scratching his head.

  “What’s going on?” asked Jake.

  “Hold on,” instructed Kevin.

  Minutes later, the three bullies emerged from the pawn shop, each counting wads of dollar bills.

  “Dude, he’s got his minions with him. You think it’s a good idea to go up to him?” asked Jake.

  Kevin sighed. “I don’t. He is a jerk when he’s around those two. Let’s just follow them; hopefully, Zander goes off alone.”

  The bullies walked a few doors down and entered the grocery store at the corner of the strip mall. A few minutes later, they emerged, each carrying two grocery bags.

  “Wow. Didn’t know the most ferocious bullies at school were shopping buddies. zAnDeR, LeTs gO bUy sOmE tOiLeT pApEr aNd MiLk!” chuckled Matthew.

  “BiLly, hOnEy, wE’rE aLsO oUt oF EeGs!” added Jake.

  They laughed, pleased with their improvisational skills.

  The boys resumed their stalk, keeping enough distance as to not get noticed. The bullies walked south for a few blocks, then turned left on Velvet Street.

  Matthew noticed the graffiti-stained road sign and gulped. “Uh oh...”

  Jake scowled at him once more. “You fought monsters and zombies in Derathiel; you’re scared of some graffiti?”

  “No, I’m scared of whoever wrote that graffiti!” corrected Matthew. “Remember the Blood Ghouls? What if we run into Harold and Walder?”

  “Shut up, Matt Bratt!” scolded Jake.

  The bullies entered Zander’s trailer park and proceeded towards the far end trailer.

  Jake gave Kevin an uneasy glance. “Looks like Billy and Luke aren’t going anywhere. Still wanna do it?”

  Kevin nodded. “I’m already here. Whatever happens, happens.” Kevin started across the street.

  Jake tipped his head. “C’mon, Matt Bratt.”

  They followed Kevin across the street. The ground was unpaved, wet, and muddy with melting snow. They rode through the messy terrain while avoiding the thicker, muddier patches. They reached the bullies moments later, just outside Zander’s trailer.

  Kevin was there first, just as Zander ascended his ramp. He spotted Kevin and paused, his eyes narrowed with confusion.

  Billy and Luke spotted the others. Billy dropped his bag and approached them, his eyes filled with uncertainty and disbelief.

  “Is that... are you...?” said Billy before he was interrupted.

  “It’s the girl scouts from school!” hollered Luke.

  “What are you pansies doing here? You girls selling cookies?” chuckled Billy.

  Kevin dismounted his bike. “Zander, saw you downtown a few nights ago. I brought you this.” He rolled his new bike forward and leaned it against the side of his trailer. “Just thought you could use it. Keep it, or pawn it, whatever you like.”

  Billy laughed. “Ooooh, Zander! You’re like a mob boss, bro! Got the girls paying you tribute!”

  Zander grabbed Billy by his shirt and pulled him close. “SHUT UP, BILLY!” He tossed him aside and walked down the ramp, past a dumbfounded Luke.

  Zander approached the bike. He placed his hand on the handlebars and inspected it, trying to hold in a smile.

  Matthew and Jake exchanged a wary side glance.

  Zander stood and walked to Kevin. He looked him in the eye and held out his hand. “Thanks, Kevin.”

  Kevin met it with his. “Don’t mention it.”

  Billy and Luke were flabbergasted.

  Then the cry came—the wail of a baby from inside the trailer.

  Zander glanced towards his door. “C’mon, Kevin. I want you to meet someone.” He rushed up the ramp and opened the door. He looked back at Matthew and Jake. “C’mon, you guys can meet my baby sister.”

  Jake and Matthew exchanged another side glance, then followed behind Billy and Luke.

  The trailer was narrow and cramped. Zander placed his grocery bags atop the kitchen table and began to unpack. “My mom can’t make any milk, and this stuff’s expensive,” he said as he opened a can of formula.

  Billy and Luke removed the contents of their bags. In them were cups of baby food and more cans of baby formula.

  Billy placed a package of diapers on the counter and held up a baby rattle shaped like the planet Saturn. “This will match her crib mobile,” he announced while rattling it in Luke’s face.

  Luke slapped his hand away. “Stop messin’ around! She’s probably hungry!”

  The crying had subsided by the time they entered the back room. Inside was a small wooden crib, white in color, chipped, and scratch-laden.

  A thin woman with short black hair sat on a rocking chair to the left, rocking a bundled baby in her thin, scarred arms. She looked up at Zander and smiled. “Zander, she just fell asleep. I thought she was hungry, but she just wanted to be held,” she whispered softly.

  Zander placed the bottle he had prepared off to the side and looked at the others. “She’s the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen,” he announced.

  Kevin studied Zander’s mom. Something about her was not well. She looked weak—she looked sick. But she looked happy. After a moment, she stood and carefully laid her baby down inside the white crib, underneath a mobile of hanging stars, moons, and planets.

  Zander joined her by the crib, and they stared lovingly at the newest member of their family.

  “Zander, I promise I’ll be good now. I promise I’ll be here to take care of both of you. I’ll get a job; we’ll get a house... this time I won’t let you down,” she said softly.

  Zander nodded, his gaze still on his baby sister.

  Zander’s mom glanced at the others and smiled before walking out of the room. Billy and Luke approached the crib.

  “Hi, baby,” whispered Luke.

  Billy smiled as he watched her sleep.

  “Okay, that’s enough. Get away before she wakes up and screams,” ordered Zander.

  Luke and Billy stepped back.

  Kevin could not look away; he was mesmerized. Something awakened inside him, something that had lain dormant before this very moment. He approached the crib compelled to view the newborn residing within.

  “That’s where my mom was,” Zander whispered. “She was having the baby. She said she didn’t know she was pregnant. Then she got pains and went to the hospital.”

  Kevin did not respond. He continued to stare at Zander’s sister.

  “Her name is Aura,” Zander said proudly. “I need to protect her. Wakefield is her home; it needs to be a safe place for her to live.” He turned to Kevin. “That’s why we need to make sure those fairyland monsters don’t come here.”

  Kevin nodded.

  “She’s grown so much since she was born,” added Zander.

  There she slept, beneath the yellow stars and ringed planets of the crib mobile, enveloped in a blanket of tiny crescent moons...

  The child you must protect can be found amidst the moon, the stars, and the ringed planets.

  Then he knew... the purpose for his newfound power was right there... beneath him. This baby, just inches away, was the reason for all the madness—Aura was Raven and Vengara’s end game. The focus of all their efforts here and in Derathiel... but why? Kevin did not have the answer at this time, but he now knew what his end game was—protect Aura. Protect her at all costs.

  Epilogue

  “So tell me more about your kingdom,” requested the orderly as he walked alongside Quentin Maelstrom through the forested grounds surrounding the behavioral center.

  Quentin walked diligently, his eyes filled with purpose and determination. “It’s a beauti
ful land, filled with vast glittering forests, majestic mountains, crystal clear lakes, and rivers...”

  The orderly smiled. “And you were its king, right?”

  “My father was. Then my brother inherited the throne, but it should have been me. I was more deserving.”

  “Is that so?” he chuckled. “So why didn’t you inherit the throne? Was your brother older than you were?”

  “Yes. The firstborn male inherits the family home and assets, while the others are left to throw their lives away as soldiers, scholars, or clerics. A stupid, ancient custom present in my land—a land where people’s status is defined by their family names and birth order, not by their talents or accomplishments.” Quentin paused and looked at his chaperone. “That’s something I truly admire about this world. People here determine their fate and status by their deeds and skills. Your poorest peasant can rise to be the king of his kingdom, leading his own subjects—subjects earned—subjects who follow him for what he’s accomplished, not for the sigil on his banner.”

  The orderly was speechless. He stared on, wide-eyed and nodding.

  Quentin pointed his finger. “You... you’re a peasant in this kingdom, I assume. Ordered to perform menial tasks like cleaning after us and accompanying residents on their daily walks. But if you’re intelligent and work hard enough, even you, a peasant scum, can rise to become king of the castle... the castle behind us.”

  The orderly glanced at the behavioral facility behind them, unsure whether he had just been insulted or inspired.

  “Thank you for those encouraging words, Mr. Mallory.”

  “Save your gratitude. I’m only stating the obvious truth of the society you are part of.”

  Quentin resumed his walk with a brisker pace. They progressed deeper into the forest, where the sunlight was but scattered rays filtering through the trees. Quentin had earned a moderate distance between them and seemed determined to expand it.