by Samuel Small
Turning his attention from the foul-mannered boy, Jake took note of the people here and their customs. It seemed like the lazy man they encountered was the norm: most people walking the streets wore baggy clothes and had eyes that seemed to be straining just to stay open. They meandered into each booth, viewing each attraction, however small, as some kind of world-shattering discovery. Jake shook his head, not understanding how a society comprised of people like this could even function as a nation, let alone without a concept of money.
When Jake turned back he saw Dante pulling a corndog out of his mouth, revealing a slimy but bare stick. His eyes were narrowed at a spot directly in front of him, and Jake could only guess that it was some of the local folk. His mouth still stuffed with food, Dante mumbled “hippies,” then walked forward. Jake knew this couldn’t be good and strode to the boy’s side.
Dante, fists clenched, stormed off toward a man and woman, both of whom had such long curly hair that it was difficult for Jake to tell which was which. “What do you lot do for fun around here?” Dante asked when he approached, placing both hands on his hips and inspecting them.
“Oh, y’know,” the man said, “hang out.” The woman giggled slowly. “Yeeeaaah. Hang out.”
Dante’s posture slumped at their tepid response, and he flickered his eyes to each of them. When he was sure that was all they cared to say, he continued his interrogation. “And does anyone in this damn country have a job?”
They looked to one another and giggled, shaking their heads, although Jake was sure that they would have said “nah duuuuuude” had they spoke. Dante shook his arms at the sky then dropped them to his sides, finally walking away from the lazy people. “This place is nothing but jobless hippies.”
“Dante, last I checked you don’t have a job either,” Sara said.
“Of course I do, I’m out hunting those shit monsters!”
“You don’t get paid for that,” Jake said.
“Yeah, well consider it charity work. At least I’m not a good-for-nothing hippy.”
“Didn’t you say that you used to wander around before you came to the Republic?” Sara asked.
“And last I saw you,” Jake said, “you wore that big cloak and your hair was super long, you looked like a total hippy.”
Sara and Jake stopped and nodded in sync. Dante looked at each of them, fear shining within his pupils. Based on his frantic looks to either side you’d think they’d accused him of being a murderer instead of a hypocrite. He lunged at Jake, and the boy almost tried to defend himself thinking it was an attack, but when Dante grabbed him by the shoulders he knew it wasn’t. Or at least not intended to be. His fingers dug deep into Jake’s collar and caused a sharp pain, but Jake was only vaguely aware of it as Dante’s earnest stare seemed to suck him in. “Listen bedhead, this is serious. No functional society should have this many hippies.”
On that Jake could agree, but he wasn’t going admit it to Dante, lest he put fuel on the fire of whatever the hell it was he was doing. Instead Jake drew back, staring at Dante like the nutcase he was being. In response, Dante only gripped him tighter. “Nerdboy, can’t you see? This amount of hippies is unnatural, manufactured.”
“Manufactured?”
“There’s someone at the top creating hippies.”
“Why the hell would anyone want to create hippies?” Sara asked. Dante turned to look at her without releasing his death grip on Jake’s shoulders, considering her as if that was the dumbest question he’d ever heard.
“Because they smell and don’t work.”
“Why would anybody want that!?”
Before Dante could give whatever crazy response he was planning, several loud trumpets blared, and the group’s attention turned to the large center stage well ahead. Walking to the top was Light. He stood on the podium, which sported a large tube for him to speak through, leaned in, and spoke.
“I hope you are enjoying the festival, set up to commemorate the first docile visit from groundlings in over a century. We hope that our honored guests, too, are finding everything to their liking.” His eyes narrowed, and he picked Jake and the group out from the crowd almost instantly. Jake nodded, entranced by the strange radar on the man. “Before I go on with the reading, please would our guests approach the podium?”
Jake exchanged hesitant glances with each of his comrades, but they all – except for Dante – seemed to agree that it was the least they could do considering this whole festival was to mark their visit. They each took a step forward before being halted by a piercing, unnatural screech.
Jake had to cover his ears, as the noise was akin to nails grinding against chalkboard. It sent a shiver down his spine, and he was immediately uncomfortable and filled with an animalistic urge to get away. He pounded his fist against his temple and shook his head, trying to knock the sensation out of his mind. It was a sensation he knew all too well. One brought on by the Malice, and based on the extent of his pain it had to be an especially powerful one.
There was another piercing screech that seemed to be coming from every single direction at once. Jake shot his head up and tried to pin down the source of it, but the sound bounced and echoed, as if whatever was making it was traveling fast or…
As if it was circling them.
Jake looked frantically in every direction, trying to find from which spot the dreadful creature would emerge. He was vaguely aware that all of the natives were looking up at the sky, entranced and unafraid, but he was too preoccupied with his impending death to give it much more than a passing thought. He knew his comrades were all suffering as he was, and he figured that between the four of them they’d ought to be able to pinpoint the thing when it showed itself.
Elizabeth pointed at the sky and everyone followed her finger. There, blocking out the sun, was the silhouette of a dragon. It dropped down and gilded on its wings, barreling for the large cluster of people. Jake scoffed and ran out of the way, all the while incapable of taking his eyes off the fearsome creature.
It was a dragon all right, just like the ones in the artwork from old myth, although it was lacking front legs, sporting only back ones and wings, so technically it was a wyvern if he wanted to be exact. Instead of scales its body was supported by that disgusting black liquid that Jake was all too familiar with, which streaked off the creature in a large trails due to its fast movements. When it was over top of the people it parted its mouth, just barely due to the dripping tendrils that connected them, and puked out more blackness onto the ground. It fell in a steady stream, earning screams from the festivalgoers who did nothing as it splashed all over them. Atop the podium, Light stood with his arms outstretched and head cocked back, accepting the putrid liquid like some sort of twisted baptism. It seeped into the ground, and faint steam drifted from it.
“Dammit,” Dante said, then pointed his arm at the dragon in the sky. He began to collect energy into his palm, but only a few particles formed before he was jolted suddenly backward and slammed into the building that Jake entered for refuge. His back was halfway through the wall, and he slumped down and moaned as a cloud of thick dust arose out of the shattered building. For a second Jake searched for the Malice that did this to him, but then his more reasonable brain kicked in. That had been no Malice, but Sol. A wind type, the same the natives of the area used.
As Malice rose from the puddle the beast created, Jake’s eyes locked onto several figures wearing long hooded robes. The member in front had his finger pointed at Dante. Jake scoffed and reached behind, grazing the Sol rifle with his finger but deciding against it and drew his sword instead. He held it in front and shouted at the robed figures.
“What the hell are you doing? He’s aiming for the big one!”
“That’s exactly why I did it,” the one at the front of the cluster said, his voice loud and gruff. Jake was shocked to hear him so simply defending a Malice, but regained himself and glared at the man.
“What do you mean by that? That thing’s going to kill—�
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“That ‘thing’ is an extension of Her will, and as such shall remain intact.” His robes began to blow and swirl, an indication that he was gathering fast wind into his palm. “You will stay put and accept Her judgment.”
Jake took a step back. He could hear the people screaming just out of his reach as they were slaughtered by the numerous Malice that rose up, but he couldn’t just jump in and help with this group holding him hostage. He could tell by their robes that they had to be some elite battle unit, and they outnumbered them, consisting of six as far as Jake could tell to their possible three, since Dante may be out of the fight. But he couldn’t just wait here and do nothing either, so maybe now was the time to bust out the Sol rifle, but Loid had instructed him to only use it when a lot of Sol was being deployed at once, and so far only one blast had been fired. Dammit. He wished the kid would have just explain—
To his left, there was some shifting as wood fell to the ground. Dante rose out of the hole, the strings of the many masks he’d adorned sliding like messy glue then snapping. The beads, likewise, rolled at his feet. He shook dust out of his hair and glared at the robed men, his eyes radiating with anger and his teeth clenched so tight they might actually crack. “Which one of you balless fucks did that?”
Jake’s whole body tensed and he took a step back as Dante strode in front of him, standing before the elite group of warriors without a scrap of fear. Knowing that Dante wasn’t going to ask for permission before starting a big fight, Jake held his sword at the ready. Across the way, Elizabeth did the same, Sara next to her with her hand outstretched, ready to unleash her Sol as backup if the need arose. The area was quiet, and Jake waited in apprehension. It was as if a single drop of sweat could disturb the unnatural calm that had settled over the space, and Jake dared not move a muscle for fear of bringing things to some violent head.
Dante didn’t care about that though. He ran forward and immediately the robed leader thrust his arm out. The grass beneath his feet tore violently and lashed out in a straight line: one heading straight for Jake. He dove to the side, and the building behind him exploded. As shards of wood rained around Jake he came to the realization that the previous attack was a controlled blast, but he was obviously no longer fooling around.
Getting up and readying himself, Jake saw that Dante was fending off the group just fine without him. He mowed through the cloaked men, knocking them out at close range before they could unleash their deadly Sol. Stepping back from the boy who was punching, ducking, and kicking at his companions was their leader. He gathered energy, preparing to take Dante out while he was distracted with his comrades.
Jake called to Sara, then charged at the man. As he approached, several icicles tore at the cloaked man’s outstretched hand, and he had to pull back to avoid getting cut, disrupting his energy gathering. He turned to Sara and let out a few bursts of air from his palm, but Jake wasn’t concerned. The girl would create a wall of ice to shield herself, and while he was distracted with her he’d fail to notice Jake closing in from behind.
Seeing Jake’s plan, Elizabeth emerged from behind the ice wall and charged the man, leaping over and out of the way of his violent gusts of wind, which tore rough farrows in the ground. Between her, Sara, and the lingering threat of Dante, the man wouldn’t notice Jake until it was far too late. He’d be able to take him hostage, and maybe they could talk their way into being allowed to fight the Malice.
At least that’s how it worked in Jake’s head.
When he was pulling his sword to the man’s throat, something tore into it. The weapon jerked out of his hands and went soaring through the air. Dante, hoisting the last of the robbed men up by the collar and ready to deliver an unnecessary blow, looked up just in time to see the blade barreling toward him and ducked.
“When I said you could throw it, I didn’t mean literally,” he yelled at Jake. Then he threw the last of the robbed men to the side, striding toward the hooded man slowly as Elizabeth closed in. The man shot his arm to the side, letting out a burst of air that knocked Elizabeth onto her back. He then turned, extended his arm toward the unarmed Jake and sent a large burst like a fist punching into the boy’s stomach. Pain filled his wound and he hunched over, wheezing. It was hard to defend against an attack he couldn’t see, and the smaller bursts left no trail in the grass to follow. On his knees, Jake looked up and wondered how Dante would overcome this adversary.
He threw a hook, but the man ducked under it expertly. Dante tried to knee the crouching figure, but a burst of energy knocked into him and sent him stumbling backward. Dante regained himself and glared as the figure stood before him, making no attempt to fight and adopting a casual and cocky stance. Jake grunted and raised himself to his feet, but without his sword he wouldn’t be much help. He did have his Sol rifle though, and he wondered if enough Sol had been used in this battle, but Lloyd told him he might only get one use out of the thing and to make it count. He wasn’t sure if Dante even used any when he took all those men out.
As Dante continued to punch at the man, his fists being knocked away by gusts of air, Elizabeth came to a stand and raised her sword before her. She was setting up to lunge into the fight, but Dante called out, punching just past the man’s head. “Stay out of this!”
It caught her off guard, and during that momentary hesitation the hooded man blasted right into her, sending her rolling even further back. “That goes for you too!” he shouted at Sara, who was readying a counterattack between her hands. His glaring eyes found their way to Jake, and told him all he needed to know about what would happen should he try to interfere. He removed his hand from the weapon on his back and held it at his side.
Whoever this hooded man was, he seemed to have about as much hand-to-hand combat experience as Dante. The orange-haired boy threw several punches at the man’s head, and he evaded each of them by jerking to either side. When Dante tried to uppercut his midsection, he let out another burst of air that knocked him back down. This time, however, he didn’t give the boy the chance to regain himself. Rather, he let his arm out and fired a heavy burst into his chest. Jake saw the imprint of air on Dante’s jacket as it folded, then his body jerked backward. He immediately caught himself, yelled, and charged at the man once more.
This was going nowhere fast. Every exchange they had left the man uninjured, and now at the end of each Dante was receiving a powerful blow, so he could only last for so long. If they all worked together they could take the guy out no problem, but since Dante didn’t want to harm his fragile ego he forced all of his teammates to stay back. Jake was about ready to walk toward Elizabeth and Sara to form a new plan of attack, perhaps even one that involved incapacitating Dante, when he saw a change in him. His palms radiated a faint blue light, and with a start Jake realized that it was the first time in the whole exchange that he had actually bothered to use his Sol.
The hooded man’s straight posture waned, and he jumped back as Dante launched his fist into the ground, sending earth raining down in a flash of blue light. Cast in a shroud of dust, Jake had no clue where the next attack would come from, and he ran for safety before he became collateral damage.
Just as he was closing in on Sara and Elizabeth, he looked over his shoulder and saw three flashes of energy tear out of the cloud and launch at the hooded man in rapid succession. He raised one hand, and blocked each blow with fast dexterity, the individual orbs of light dissipating as they touched something just in front of his hand, likely a pocket of condensed air. The hooded man then pulled back that same hand, his robes and hood swaying and shiting as he gathered a truly insane amount of energy there. Likewise, the rushing wind cleared the dust Dante had created, revealing the boy gathering a ridiculous amount of energy into his clenched fist. His hair and jacket whipped about in the violent storm created by his adversary’s attack, but he seemed unfazed by it all, eyes locked on his opponent’s face.
Jake was ready to ask Sara to create a wall to protect them, as he had no clue what kind
of ridiculous shockwave the clash between these two would create, when a figure came quickly into view, although he couldn’t make it out as anything other than a blur. He called to Sara and she nodded and placed her arms toward the ground, and a large wall of ice sprung out to shield them. Just as it reached its apex, there was a large and violent crash, and the house debris to either side of them soared past in response to the giant shockwave. They waited as the wind rushed past like a raging river and then slowly died down. An unnatural calm descended, and Jake wasn’t sure whether or not they had managed to kill each other. Sara looked at him sympathetically, then melted the wall into water that pooled at their feet.
Before them were three silhouettes, dark within the hazy fog. Two of them had their fists thrust out, and the third stood in the center, holding both hands up as if to block. With them distracted, Jake turned his head to the people and the Malice, only to find that all the monsters were destroyed, perhaps by that flickering figure Jake saw just moments before. Stunned, but aware that this third entity was likely that same one, Jake focused his eyes on the figure as the fog faded, prepared to find out whether this powerful person was going to be friend or a foe.
Dante and the robed man were both staring, mouths agape, at this new person, who was hunched down with both arms raised. He had a boyish face and wore a lightweight uniform with a sash-like cape running up the side. The hooded man’s hood was blown back in the explosion, and his neat brown hair was in stark contrast to his grinding teeth, although his anger was not focused on Dante, but rather this newcomer. Dante brought his fist to his side, dusted it off on his pant leg, and returned it to his pocket, eyeing the new warrior suspiciously. Seeing that Dante was no longer a threat, the newcomer, who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than them, stood up and smiled, extending a hand for Dante to shake.
