by Samuel Small
It took them only a minute to reach the place, even though it felt like hours. Jake knew they were being followed, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He could tell by the sound of footsteps that it wasn’t just one or two people: there were dozens of them. Dante was tough, Jake knew that, but he couldn’t defeat an entire village bent on murder, and Jake doubted he’d be of much help. These were real living, thinking people. Not a mindless horde of monsters. Jake couldn’t carve through them, hell he probably couldn’t take out a single one if they were all packed together, not that he wanted too. After what the Republic did to them he understood their hatred for him, but Dante? He was one of their own, wasn’t he?
A stocky boy stood in front of the stone steps that led up to the building that Dante had made a beeline for, blocking the entrance of the steel gate. Lined shoulder to shoulder with him were several Purists, who stretched out to either end of the fence. They stared at Dante and Jake as they stopped, then the Purists who followed them fanned out. Soon the group of people formed a circle around the two and the stocky boy came forward.
“You gonna let me through, Naoto? I gotta talk to Hikawa,” Dante said without a hint of fear in his voice.
“Onrikai,” the stocky boy named Naoto said.
“Eh? Why the fuck would I want to do that? I don’t got shit to prove to you,” Dante said, then swept a scowl over all the Purists in the line. “To any of you.”
Naoto didn’t care about Dante’s refusal to compete in whatever he had asked of him and he gathered Pure Sol into his open hand. The mini particles of light coalesced into a ball as the onlookers stared in shock. Those that had formed a line to block Jake and Dante spread out for fear of being caught up in the stocky boy’s energy if he decided to release it. Jake stared into that energy and reached a hand for his sword, but found his wrist seized. Dante shook his head and jerked it to the gap the Purist had made. Jake opened his mouth to tell Dante no, but when he caught the dead stare on the boy’s face he knew he was serious and ran through the opening. The Purists who’d stood to watch glared at him but apparently would not attack, as their hands were at their sides. Jake leaned against a building a good distance away from the nearest Purist just in case and watched Dante stand in front of the glowing ball of energy without flinching, which had grown to about twice the size of Jake’s head.
“Well, I guess I can’t deny your request if you’re gonna attack,” Dante said, “but I gotta say, I didn’t expect it from such a kiss-ass. You were always quick to fight, but that ball of crap don’t look like it’s suitable for one of our old scraps.”
The shadows the ball cast twisted over Naoto’s face, making him look like some kind of demon. His gaze, indifferent to the world, bore into Dante. Jake didn’t see how Dante could manage to stay calm under such intense scrutiny for so long.
“Didn’t your momma tell you never to kill nobody?”
“You’re one to talk!” Naoto shouted. The energy tore out of his hand in one giant stream, one that was so powerful it caused members of the crowd to cower. Jake placed his forearms to shield his eyes from the storm and could feel the heat on his skin, despite the fact that he was not even close to it. This energy, it was powerful – far more powerful than anything Dante had ever unleashed. Jake glanced at the spot where the energy met the ground. Dirt sprayed out in massive piles and the grass around the hole danced with fire before incinerating. Everything else in its path had been completely obliterated.
His hands at his sides, Dante stood across from the boy. Jake could only see his back, but it looked firm and powerful, his jacket rippling in the wind generated by Naoto’s energy assault. Naoto’s face twisted into even further rage at Dante’s dismissal of him, and he screamed as he thrust his arm forward in rapid succession. Palm-sized bursts of blue energy shot out of it, tearing at Dante, but he stepped casually to the side of each one. The energy sizzled into the ground, burning it a bright orange before dying out.
“I know you have it! Why don’t you show me, huh? Why don’t you show all of us!?”
Naoto’s attacks became more frantic and impossibly violent as his rage increased. They came fast enough that Dante couldn’t maintain that confident look about him as he weaved through the attacks. Still, none came close to touching him. The energy slammed into the ground, making it more ragged and pitted by the second. Burning holes littered the landscape. But something was off, Dante was now dodging with his trademark boxing style, but he didn’t let out any bursts of energy in retaliation. He’d had plenty of opportunities to do so and this guy Naoto was flat footed and an easy target. Why isn’t he taking him on? Jake wondered.
“Are you just gonna run away? At least before you took the beating like a man. I guess since she’s not—” Before Naoto could finish his sentence, a dragging sound filled the air, drowning out even the sound of the exploding energy. But it shouldn’t have, it was only the sound of Dante’s foot scraping against the grass as he made a straight line for Naoto. He charged forward, pumping his arms quickly to accelerate his pace. Naoto’s face switched from anger to surprise to fear, his lips curling down as his eyes widened. He let out his energy frantically now, but they missed their target by a mile on account of his shaking hands. Dante didn’t even slow his pace as the energy blew past him, threatening to tear holes in his body.
“I don’t owe you shit!” Dante shouted, parrying Naoto’s lead hand while cocking back with his right. He let his right arm free, which smacked into Naoto’s nose with a loud crack! The boy’s head jerked backward, blood shooting out of both nostrils as he lost his balance and fell to the ground. Dante didn’t give the boy a second of respite and immediately leapt on top of him.
He pinned Naoto’s arms down with his knees so that he couldn’t defend himself at all. He cocked his fist back to his head then let it free, left and right raining down blows methodically. Cracks, pops, and shouts filled the air as the boy continued his savage beating, Naoto’s head flailing about like a ragdoll. Everyone stared in shock as the scene unfolded and the green grass before them was sprayed crimson. Just when Jake thought Dante would kill him the beating stopped and the boy stood up. Jake passed through the shocked Purists and stood at Dante’s side, taking special note of the blood dripping from his knuckles. Staring at the sky in a daze, Naoto mumbled, “You finally got me.”
“What is the meaning of this?” a voice bellowed from the top of the steps of the building they were headed for. A woman in her mid-thirties stood there, her hair tied with a ribbon behind her back. She stared at the crowd with jaded eyes, her hands on her hips.
“Nothin’ much,” Dante said, flicking some blood off of his knuckles. “Naoto just picked a fight he couldn’t win, same as always.”
The woman came down the steps and the fearful onlookers fanned out, all heading in different directions. By the time the woman reached the gate the entire area was clear except for Dante, Jake, and Naoto. She glanced casually at Naoto’s bruised and bloodstained face then stepped over him to confront Dante. She glared down at him as he glared up and Jake could feel a kinetic tension between the two. One that had to have been brewing for years.
“And what is the purpose of this visit? You haven’t been around for several months.”
“I want to take the right of passage.”
Despite the fact that Jake was sure this right of passage was the ritual that decided the leader, the woman didn’t seem surprised at all. She only maintained that cool stare for a moment longer then glanced at the smoking holes that lined the street.
“That will take time. Within a few days—”
“I don’t got time for that. Just let me go out back and do it now.”
“Without witnesses, they’ll never accept you.”
“I don’t need them to accept me. I need them to obey me.”
“Without going through the proper ritual you’ll get neither.” The woman turned her back and it seemed she was dead set on walking up those steps without granting Dan
te’s request. But a few seconds passed without her moving, the wind blowing her long hair.
“I can get it set up by this evening. Be sure you aren’t late,” she said finally, then she scooped up Naoto so that was over her shoulder and headed up the steps. Dante stared intently at her back as she climbed then headed back the way they came.
“Wait, don’t you think it’s a good idea to stick around?” Jake asked as he followed.
“Do you really wanna hang around this place?” Dante said, glancing around at the area. His eyes rested on the residents, whose angry gazes followed the two as they moved through the village. Jake guessed not, as the tension was so thick he could cut it with his blade.
“Then where are we going?” Jake asked.
“Nowhere far, just to my place. And if you want we can stop by the gym to see if Montasir’s there.”
That sounded like a plan. Jake had wanted to have a conversation with Montasir about his swordsmanship but was too shocked about his coincidental relationship with Dante to ask about it. If they were to meet under less awkward circumstances he could maybe get a tip or two, and with how experienced Montasir was any advice was bound to be good advice. Jake followed Dante through the street and walked alongside the village’s perimeter wall. The sun was low in the sky, leaving them in long shadows as they continued onward. Jake wondered if they would have to go through the entire village, which could take ages, until after a few minutes the residential housing became spaced out and the outbuildings appeared more decrepit. It did not seem to be a lower-class housing district, these looked like they’d simply been unused for several years. There was a building at the end of this abandoned street standing all by itself.
“You mean you don’t actually live in the village?” Jake asked Dante.
“What are you talking about? This is the village.”
“Hardly, this area looks like it hasn’t been used for years,” Jake said as he glanced at the poorly maintained buildings. The front porch steps of nearly every home had caved in, and the wood was untreated and frost damaged.
They arrived at the house at the end of the street and Dante headed up the porch steps. He was light on his feet, Jake noted, likely so that his foot didn’t blow right through the rotted wood. Jake tried his best to remain light on his feet too as he moved up those creaking steps. Just as he reached the top Dante flung the door open, and a cloud of dust and the smell of damp timber filled the air. Jake shut his eyes on instinct, half expecting a swarm of flies to accompany the stale smell.
It was a shack, barely standing. There were holes in the floor in various places, white mold stains on the black wall, and broken bottles and plates throughout. It looks like nobody’s ever cleaned the place, Jake thought as he followed Dante further inside. He noticed that there was a layer of dust over everything, but it was at its thinnest where they now walked. There was a path, leading to a room in the back, which Dante followed.
This must be his room, Jake thought. There was a stained mattress with no frame in one corner. A few magazines were stuffed underneath it, the contents of which Jake could only imagine. Dante ignored the mess and made his way to a dresser. He opened one of the cabinets and waved a hand inside, for what reason Jake was initially unsure until he saw a cobweb dancing on his fingertips. Dante shook the web off him then pulled a few clothes out of the dresser, holding them at arm’s length like they were disgusting. They were covered in dust and sported patches of white mold.
“When’s the last time you were here?” Jake couldn’t help but ask.
“A few months ago,” Dante answered as he stuffed the clothing back where it came from. “This place has always been dirty and it’s really prone to damp too. I could be out for a few days and the spiders would settle in, let alone the few months it’s been empty.”
He turned away from the contents of the room and looked straight at Jake. He took that as a sign that they were done here, even though Dante hadn’t retrieved anything. “Is that all?” Jake asked.
Dante glanced around the room one last time, then sunk to one knee and pulled out the lowest drawer of the dresser. He took a few comic books and stuffed them into his bag, then slung it over his shoulder. He looked at Jake. That’s it, a few comic books? Jake thought with a sigh. Dante walked forward, leading the way to the gym where Montasir would hopefully be found.
They passed through the arches of the Purist village once again and walked across the rolling landscape that surrounded the settlement, littered with patches of grass that had been turned white by the sub-zero temperatures. Dante continued through this area, which had no set path to follow, with purpose and before long they were approaching a lone house in the distance. It was odd for there to be such an isolated structure, especially considering even small villages were usually walled off. The likelihood that some rogue band of thugs would see this place and raid it was so high that Jake didn’t understand why it existed in the first place.
When they reached the door Dante didn’t knock. He simply pushed it open it and stepped inside, leaving a perplexed Jake behind him. When he heard the sounds of slamming metal, grunting, and smelled the scent of sweat Jake realized why. This was that gym Dante spoke of, only it hardly looked like one. Jake stepped inside and tossed his boots into a pile of smelly shoes that had been haphazardly thrown about the entrance.
In his bare feet, Jake walked along the matt that filled the entire room, staring at the equipment. All kinds of weights were strewn about the place and a few people lifted them here and there, giving a casual glance at Dante before returning to their routine. Dante crossed the way to a bench press machine without a word, adjusted the weight, then began working out. Jake was hesitant for a moment as he thought Dante would introduce him or at the very least attempt to look for Montasir, but he just got right into it. He crossed over to Dante, standing over him while he pumped the weight up and down.
“Dante,” Jake whispered, “what are we doing here again?”
“Killin’ time before the ritual,” he replied without breaking his pace. “There should be an unarmed combative class in a few minutes that I think you would benefit from. Plus Montasir usually shows up for that, so you can meet up with him.”
Dante placed the weight back on the rack, then sat up and rolled his arms. He rubbed his shoulders while looking at Jake. “Well? You might as well get some lifting in. You do know how to lift, right?”
“Yeah, I know how,” Jake said and went to a similar machine next to Dante. He noted that Dante was doing high repetitions of low weight and decided to do the same. He set it to 50 pounds and tried to lift it as many times as he could before his arms got tired.
By the end of Jake’s set several more men had filed into the room, this time with bags that had to be full of combat gear. So Dante wasn’t lying about the class, Jake guessed, and sat up to greet them. Montasir crossed through the crowd, waving at Dante.
“Hey man, it’s been forever since you’ve shown up here.”
“You know it, busy savin’ the world and all that shit!”
They locked hands and bumped shoulders. Montasir’s brown eyes rested on Jake.
“So you’re on another quest, eh?” he said, pointing at the trainee. “Man, I hope they’re paying you for this.”
“Nah, free work. You up for fighting in the north?” Dante said with a grin.
“Hell no! I’ve got a job to do soon anyway.”
“Well, he’s fighting,” Dante said, wrapping an arm around Jake and pulling him in, “and he’s gonna get his ass kicked considering where he’s at now. You mind givin’ him a few pointers while I slip in with the class?”
“Why don’t you?” Montasir said with a teasing smirk. Before Dante could even respond, he continued. “That’s right, your ass was too proud to learn any kind of weapon discipline. Said you’d beat the Sol user’s asses without one, since they didn’t have them either. But I guess you were just a liar, since you had Pure Sol this whole time.”
Dan
te didn’t answer, he just stared, his arm leaving Jake and falling to the side. Embarrassed, Montasir rubbed the back of his head. “Shit, sorry man. I guess I shoulda figured out by now that you like your secrets. Jake, is it? Come with me, there’s some training blades over here.”
Jake followed Montasir, leaving Dante to make his way to the unarmed combative course. The lesson he received was invaluable, although the sparring left him bruised and beaten. It wasn’t for nothing, though, as every time Montasir landed a clean hit he explained exactly what technique he used to do it. It couldn’t have been more than an hour-long lesson, but Jake had learned more in that hour than during his entire time at the academy.
Once they were finished Jake thanked Montasir, who said he’d do anything for a friend of Dante. “Don’t forget to look out for him. He’s strong and can hold his own but tends to get hotheaded and pick fights he can’t win. You seem like a smart kid, so try to make sure the trouble he gets in is enough for him to handle.”
Jake said he would and placed the training blade back onto a rack before turning to Dante. The boy was just then removing some foam protective equipment, alongside several groaning training partners. It seemed he’d devastated them all. When he made eye contact with Jake Dante motioned with his head that they should leave. “Thanks for training that fuck, now I won’t have to worry about saving his ass during the war,” Dante called to Montasir as they stepped out of the door.
