Post by Guardsman Patrick on Oct 12, 2006 23:06:14 GMT -5
Chapter 26: Marked No More
Night came on quickly, covering the forest once again with a shadow. The beasts of the forest dared to walk close enough to the camp of the Gym Masters to grab the body of a fallen soldier and drag it back into the forest to eat. Patrick and Alex both kept an ear out for anything that might decide it wanted some game that was a little fresher.
"It’s funny how we started out camping, and now it’s not but about a week later and we’re doing it again," Rachel was gently sharpening her blade again, and the rhythmic ringing of the rock against steel filled the air, bringing back a sort of ironic memory.
Alex couldn’t help but smile at the comment. It was true. They had only been in the tower for a week and it was already gone.
"I always liked camping out," Patrick said as he stared into the fire as if he was in a trance. The fire gently reflected off his visor, "My father and I used to do it all the time together."
Everyone around the fire was silent. Rachel and Alex didn’t want to say anything. They knew Patrick had loved his father very strongly, and they did not want something to come out the wrong way and upset him. Alex knew what he was feeling when he would mention his father.
Rachel felt so lucky that her family was still together and happy. She thought about it long and hard. "The sky is nice tonight." It was all Rachel could think to say after Patrick’s remark. The stars were clear and the moon was bright, waning back into a new moon again.
"Alex, do you ever wonder what life would be like if Shade hadn’t done what he did?" Patrick asked, not for advice on how he should feel, or that he was feeling that way, but just out of curiosity.
"Even when I sleep," Alex said as he thought long and hard about it. He had just recently accepted it, after nearly two years of thinking on it non-stop. At one point he thought he would kill himself over it, not being able to think of anything else, but he pulled through.
Patrick went silent. Rachel stared into the fire, watching the coals under the wood glowing red and orange. She didn’t notice when Patrick got up and wandered over to the beach, sitting down to look up into the sky like he had done some seven nights ago. He seemed to have a strange sort of pattern to his personality, but yet he did some things that were out of the ordinary and sporadic.
Alex leaned close to the fire, poking it with a stick to get the coals back together in the center. He thought about the week they had spent training, laughing and enjoying the fact that they each finally had everything they wanted. It seemed the Gym Masters would last forever, and they would all be happy, but then all this had arisen. It opened knew doors, some that weren’t meant to be opened, but somehow, he knew they would pull through, not just for themselves, but for everyone they fought for. Rachel had a family to fight for, and a baby cousin that needed a safe city to grow up in. Patrick and Alex had already lost everything, but they still had hope, and that is what they fought for.
Arcane woke up to a strange beeping sound. He looked at his pile of clothes beside him and went through it, finally finding a tiny little silver communicator. He picked it up and held it to his mouth, pushing the button on the side.
"Arcane here, I.D. 17349, elite troop, Squad H, report?" He let go of the button and waited for a response. The communicator hissed and the voice of the doctor came over it.
"Yes, Arcane, Zanthor has just awakened. He still seems to be weak, so I may need your assistance," the doctors voice hissed out again, and Arcane hopped off his bed, pulling his uniform coat over his white beater, and buttoned it all the way up as he ran down the hall.
He hit the button for the elevator, and after a couple of seconds, the doors let off a little steam and opened, revealing the small circular room. He stepped in and pushed the button that would take him to Shade’s old office. He waited patiently as the doors closed again, and the elevator hastily slid down the shaft. The doors quietly opened to the room again, and Zanthor was sitting up in the bed, breathing hard and holding his throat as he tried to take slower breaths. His neck seemed to be swollen, but the swelling had gone down from what it had been before.
"What… am… where am… I?" Zanthor looked angry as he struggled to get the words out. Arcane looked at him pitifully. He was just getting over nearly dying, and the first thing he does is ask where he was angrily. He had a lot more pride than many people had.
"I brought you to this room as a temporary recovery room," Arcane said. Zanthor nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard this. He probably wondered why he had saved his life.
Zanthor sat there for a moment. He waited a moment longer before he shifted and felt for the side of his bed and got up. He stumbled on the first step, but moved to the door and pushed the button, leaning on the wall for support. It didn’t take long, because the elevator was already there from when Arcane had used it.
Arcane just watched, knowing that if he tried to help, he would only damage Zanthor’s pride more than it already was. As the doors closed behind him, Arcane saluted and waited until the doors closed before he stopped. He could tell Zanthor was grateful, but he wouldn’t let anyone see that he was. That was just another side effect of his enlarged pride.
Zanthor hobbled out of the elevator into the darkened room, trying to stay upright. "Ah, I see you have returned Zanthor, I assume that this is an emergency," the shadow said very quietly, but had a strange knowingness behind each word.
"I came to consult you on the fact that I had an enormous amount of inbagadra pollen in my blood stream," Zanthor asked as he fell down on all fours, having trouble breathing. He had used almost all his energy walking and standing for the short time he had done so.
"And why exactly have you come to me about it?" the shadow remained just as calm as it always was. He knew Zanthor was accusing him and he was on the right track.
"You know something about it! You are the only one besides the doctors that know about my allergy, and I didn’t come into contact with any of them when I entered the tower again. Now you can’t say I came in contact with it while in the forest, because it only grows further south. The only way I could have gotten into it is if you decided to take advantage of it." Zanthor’s story was pretty well thought out. He knew it had to have only come from there.
"Shade was like a son to me. He was the only person on earth I cared about, and the only person who mattered. You see, I warned you about disrespecting him and putting him in danger," the shadow spoke harshly, making Zanthor jump, "and it is because of your actions that he is dead now. You were too busy watching from the sidelines during the battle, when you could have been fighting. Now I would have understood if you had only killed one of the targets, maybe even two, but you killed none of them, and apparently five hundred and two others didn’t hit any of them either."
"I did what I could master, but it obviously wasn’t enough. They fought harder than you think, and like me, Shade could do nothing to stop them," Zanthor tried to protect himself. He couldn’t be blamed for the actions of others, but he could defend his own.
"Don’t say you did everything you could. I know you waited until the army was depleting to take your position. You think that I will protect your actions and your decisions, but you are very wrong. I do not think of you as any higher than the soldiers. The only people I count as below you are the soldiers that don’t fight," the shadow’s words became venomous. Zanthor looked into them, gaping at what he had just heard. Two years of fighting for this corporation and he was equal to nothing in his master’s eyes.
"You see, General, I have no patience for laziness on your part. I gave you chance after chance to change and work harder, but you continue to disobey me. I am sick and tired of getting report after report of failed missions. So that is why I did it, to show you, first hand, that you, and any of my other servants, are disposable. Now, you are dismissed General. You should probably rest. You aren’t looking well at all." The shadow went silent again, having nothing else to say to Zanthor.
Alex woke up again, not knowing why. It was probably because he was so used to doing so every night from the nightmares he would have about his past. He looked out over the clearing, seeing only a couple of bodies remaining. He guessed even the beasts of the Radong had a limit to how much they could eat.
He looked over to the fire and saw Patrick sitting on the rock beside it. He was gently poking at the embers, trying to keep them alive. Alex didn’t know how it would feel to almost never be sleepy. Would it be good to have extra time that nobody else would be able to get, or would it only give you more time to think of all your mistakes and all the things you could’ve done different? Alex thought it would make the world a lonely place.
Patrick got up and moved over to the small wood pile, taking some of the pieces off the top to add to the dying flame. Alex looked over at Rachel, who slept quietly in her sleeping bag; Kage lying beside her, the dragon’s large body expanding as it drew in air slowly. Alex thought this would be a good time to talk to Patrick, seeing as how neither of them was asleep or planning on sleeping for a while.
Alex got up out of the sleeping bag, stepping over to the fire and propping himself up against the log that sat near the fire. Patrick came out of the shadows and placed the wood atop the dying flames giving them new life. He paid Alex no mind, sitting down on his rock once more, shifting slightly to get a more comfortable position.
"I thought your nightmares would be over now that Shade is gone," Patrick said quietly, poking around in the fire as he shifted all the red coals to the center of the fire. He didn’t look over at Alex at all; his eyes were locked on the fire, deep in thought.
"They ended, yeah, but it’s hard to break the habit of waking n the middle of the night when I’ve been doing it every single night for the past two years of my life." Alex looked at the fire as it began to eat away at the fresh logs, charring them.
"I can understand that. I’ve finally gotten used to the whole barely sleeping thing myself. It’s not as easy to figure out things to do in your extra hours when it doesn’t involve sleeping," Patrick looked over at Alex, half smiling at how they were similar.
"So this is what you do when you don’t sleep?" Alex looked over at Rachel again, seeing that she had turned over and was now facing Kage, whose large mouth was right in Rachel’s face.
"Yeah, it’s the only thing I can do. All I can do is reflect on everything I’ve done, seen, heard, felt and thought. It does have its advantages, but it certainly wears on you over time. It's almost like memories are all I have left." Patrick seemed like he wasn’t really there. He looked into the distance of the forest and seemed to be in another place. Alex knew that if he had to think about his past for twenty hours of the day rather than just sixteen, he would probably go crazy. If he thought four extra hours would be hard, he couldn’t even imagine how much Patrick thought about his past, however long it was that he stayed up every day. That is why Patrick seemed so down to earth and calm all the time. He had time to make peace - what was done as done.
"Well, I hope tonight you can catch a little sleep." Alex yawned and stood up, turning back to his sleeping bag. As he was about to take his first step, he heard Patrick draw his sword. Alex froze on the spot and felt the cold metal near his left arm, about an inch from the skin. He didn’t know what Patrick was doing, but whatever it was, it certainly was clear to Patrick. Alex knew if Patrick planned to kill him, he would have done it some time ago.
"Alex," Patrick said as his blade began to glow, "nobody deserves to be marked with a horrible past." Patrick slashed upwards, and Alex’s arm turned warm and began to tingle. It felt as if the skin was tightening over his arm, but then it relaxed.
Alex didn’t say a word, he just walked over to his sleeping bag and slid in, zipping up the side so he would not get too cold during the night. As he was just about to fall asleep, he looked down at his arm and couldn’t help but smile. The long jagged mark was no longer there, and his skin was unblemished.
Night came on quickly, covering the forest once again with a shadow. The beasts of the forest dared to walk close enough to the camp of the Gym Masters to grab the body of a fallen soldier and drag it back into the forest to eat. Patrick and Alex both kept an ear out for anything that might decide it wanted some game that was a little fresher.
"It’s funny how we started out camping, and now it’s not but about a week later and we’re doing it again," Rachel was gently sharpening her blade again, and the rhythmic ringing of the rock against steel filled the air, bringing back a sort of ironic memory.
Alex couldn’t help but smile at the comment. It was true. They had only been in the tower for a week and it was already gone.
"I always liked camping out," Patrick said as he stared into the fire as if he was in a trance. The fire gently reflected off his visor, "My father and I used to do it all the time together."
Everyone around the fire was silent. Rachel and Alex didn’t want to say anything. They knew Patrick had loved his father very strongly, and they did not want something to come out the wrong way and upset him. Alex knew what he was feeling when he would mention his father.
Rachel felt so lucky that her family was still together and happy. She thought about it long and hard. "The sky is nice tonight." It was all Rachel could think to say after Patrick’s remark. The stars were clear and the moon was bright, waning back into a new moon again.
"Alex, do you ever wonder what life would be like if Shade hadn’t done what he did?" Patrick asked, not for advice on how he should feel, or that he was feeling that way, but just out of curiosity.
"Even when I sleep," Alex said as he thought long and hard about it. He had just recently accepted it, after nearly two years of thinking on it non-stop. At one point he thought he would kill himself over it, not being able to think of anything else, but he pulled through.
Patrick went silent. Rachel stared into the fire, watching the coals under the wood glowing red and orange. She didn’t notice when Patrick got up and wandered over to the beach, sitting down to look up into the sky like he had done some seven nights ago. He seemed to have a strange sort of pattern to his personality, but yet he did some things that were out of the ordinary and sporadic.
Alex leaned close to the fire, poking it with a stick to get the coals back together in the center. He thought about the week they had spent training, laughing and enjoying the fact that they each finally had everything they wanted. It seemed the Gym Masters would last forever, and they would all be happy, but then all this had arisen. It opened knew doors, some that weren’t meant to be opened, but somehow, he knew they would pull through, not just for themselves, but for everyone they fought for. Rachel had a family to fight for, and a baby cousin that needed a safe city to grow up in. Patrick and Alex had already lost everything, but they still had hope, and that is what they fought for.
* * *
Arcane woke up to a strange beeping sound. He looked at his pile of clothes beside him and went through it, finally finding a tiny little silver communicator. He picked it up and held it to his mouth, pushing the button on the side.
"Arcane here, I.D. 17349, elite troop, Squad H, report?" He let go of the button and waited for a response. The communicator hissed and the voice of the doctor came over it.
"Yes, Arcane, Zanthor has just awakened. He still seems to be weak, so I may need your assistance," the doctors voice hissed out again, and Arcane hopped off his bed, pulling his uniform coat over his white beater, and buttoned it all the way up as he ran down the hall.
He hit the button for the elevator, and after a couple of seconds, the doors let off a little steam and opened, revealing the small circular room. He stepped in and pushed the button that would take him to Shade’s old office. He waited patiently as the doors closed again, and the elevator hastily slid down the shaft. The doors quietly opened to the room again, and Zanthor was sitting up in the bed, breathing hard and holding his throat as he tried to take slower breaths. His neck seemed to be swollen, but the swelling had gone down from what it had been before.
"What… am… where am… I?" Zanthor looked angry as he struggled to get the words out. Arcane looked at him pitifully. He was just getting over nearly dying, and the first thing he does is ask where he was angrily. He had a lot more pride than many people had.
"I brought you to this room as a temporary recovery room," Arcane said. Zanthor nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard this. He probably wondered why he had saved his life.
Zanthor sat there for a moment. He waited a moment longer before he shifted and felt for the side of his bed and got up. He stumbled on the first step, but moved to the door and pushed the button, leaning on the wall for support. It didn’t take long, because the elevator was already there from when Arcane had used it.
Arcane just watched, knowing that if he tried to help, he would only damage Zanthor’s pride more than it already was. As the doors closed behind him, Arcane saluted and waited until the doors closed before he stopped. He could tell Zanthor was grateful, but he wouldn’t let anyone see that he was. That was just another side effect of his enlarged pride.
* * *
Zanthor hobbled out of the elevator into the darkened room, trying to stay upright. "Ah, I see you have returned Zanthor, I assume that this is an emergency," the shadow said very quietly, but had a strange knowingness behind each word.
"I came to consult you on the fact that I had an enormous amount of inbagadra pollen in my blood stream," Zanthor asked as he fell down on all fours, having trouble breathing. He had used almost all his energy walking and standing for the short time he had done so.
"And why exactly have you come to me about it?" the shadow remained just as calm as it always was. He knew Zanthor was accusing him and he was on the right track.
"You know something about it! You are the only one besides the doctors that know about my allergy, and I didn’t come into contact with any of them when I entered the tower again. Now you can’t say I came in contact with it while in the forest, because it only grows further south. The only way I could have gotten into it is if you decided to take advantage of it." Zanthor’s story was pretty well thought out. He knew it had to have only come from there.
"Shade was like a son to me. He was the only person on earth I cared about, and the only person who mattered. You see, I warned you about disrespecting him and putting him in danger," the shadow spoke harshly, making Zanthor jump, "and it is because of your actions that he is dead now. You were too busy watching from the sidelines during the battle, when you could have been fighting. Now I would have understood if you had only killed one of the targets, maybe even two, but you killed none of them, and apparently five hundred and two others didn’t hit any of them either."
"I did what I could master, but it obviously wasn’t enough. They fought harder than you think, and like me, Shade could do nothing to stop them," Zanthor tried to protect himself. He couldn’t be blamed for the actions of others, but he could defend his own.
"Don’t say you did everything you could. I know you waited until the army was depleting to take your position. You think that I will protect your actions and your decisions, but you are very wrong. I do not think of you as any higher than the soldiers. The only people I count as below you are the soldiers that don’t fight," the shadow’s words became venomous. Zanthor looked into them, gaping at what he had just heard. Two years of fighting for this corporation and he was equal to nothing in his master’s eyes.
"You see, General, I have no patience for laziness on your part. I gave you chance after chance to change and work harder, but you continue to disobey me. I am sick and tired of getting report after report of failed missions. So that is why I did it, to show you, first hand, that you, and any of my other servants, are disposable. Now, you are dismissed General. You should probably rest. You aren’t looking well at all." The shadow went silent again, having nothing else to say to Zanthor.
* * *
Alex woke up again, not knowing why. It was probably because he was so used to doing so every night from the nightmares he would have about his past. He looked out over the clearing, seeing only a couple of bodies remaining. He guessed even the beasts of the Radong had a limit to how much they could eat.
He looked over to the fire and saw Patrick sitting on the rock beside it. He was gently poking at the embers, trying to keep them alive. Alex didn’t know how it would feel to almost never be sleepy. Would it be good to have extra time that nobody else would be able to get, or would it only give you more time to think of all your mistakes and all the things you could’ve done different? Alex thought it would make the world a lonely place.
Patrick got up and moved over to the small wood pile, taking some of the pieces off the top to add to the dying flame. Alex looked over at Rachel, who slept quietly in her sleeping bag; Kage lying beside her, the dragon’s large body expanding as it drew in air slowly. Alex thought this would be a good time to talk to Patrick, seeing as how neither of them was asleep or planning on sleeping for a while.
Alex got up out of the sleeping bag, stepping over to the fire and propping himself up against the log that sat near the fire. Patrick came out of the shadows and placed the wood atop the dying flames giving them new life. He paid Alex no mind, sitting down on his rock once more, shifting slightly to get a more comfortable position.
"I thought your nightmares would be over now that Shade is gone," Patrick said quietly, poking around in the fire as he shifted all the red coals to the center of the fire. He didn’t look over at Alex at all; his eyes were locked on the fire, deep in thought.
"They ended, yeah, but it’s hard to break the habit of waking n the middle of the night when I’ve been doing it every single night for the past two years of my life." Alex looked at the fire as it began to eat away at the fresh logs, charring them.
"I can understand that. I’ve finally gotten used to the whole barely sleeping thing myself. It’s not as easy to figure out things to do in your extra hours when it doesn’t involve sleeping," Patrick looked over at Alex, half smiling at how they were similar.
"So this is what you do when you don’t sleep?" Alex looked over at Rachel again, seeing that she had turned over and was now facing Kage, whose large mouth was right in Rachel’s face.
"Yeah, it’s the only thing I can do. All I can do is reflect on everything I’ve done, seen, heard, felt and thought. It does have its advantages, but it certainly wears on you over time. It's almost like memories are all I have left." Patrick seemed like he wasn’t really there. He looked into the distance of the forest and seemed to be in another place. Alex knew that if he had to think about his past for twenty hours of the day rather than just sixteen, he would probably go crazy. If he thought four extra hours would be hard, he couldn’t even imagine how much Patrick thought about his past, however long it was that he stayed up every day. That is why Patrick seemed so down to earth and calm all the time. He had time to make peace - what was done as done.
"Well, I hope tonight you can catch a little sleep." Alex yawned and stood up, turning back to his sleeping bag. As he was about to take his first step, he heard Patrick draw his sword. Alex froze on the spot and felt the cold metal near his left arm, about an inch from the skin. He didn’t know what Patrick was doing, but whatever it was, it certainly was clear to Patrick. Alex knew if Patrick planned to kill him, he would have done it some time ago.
"Alex," Patrick said as his blade began to glow, "nobody deserves to be marked with a horrible past." Patrick slashed upwards, and Alex’s arm turned warm and began to tingle. It felt as if the skin was tightening over his arm, but then it relaxed.
Alex didn’t say a word, he just walked over to his sleeping bag and slid in, zipping up the side so he would not get too cold during the night. As he was just about to fall asleep, he looked down at his arm and couldn’t help but smile. The long jagged mark was no longer there, and his skin was unblemished.