Chapter 15: The Fallen Find Their Prey

Do you remember when the Fallen first touched you, my son? When they first marked you?

You’re saying they’ve come for me in particular? asked Éclair mentally, her aura feeling skeptical.

The Fire Minister mentioned that it might be a possibility, yes, admitted Leon through their mental conversation. He thought it best to have this talk mentally since there were still a few politicians in the room, albeit looking a bit shellshocked after their brush with the pirates.

“Your efforts in safeguarding the senators is commendable, but now that the danger has passed, perhaps we should get you away safely with the other Firsts,” Leon said out loud as he positioned himself beside Éclair, crossing his arms imperiously as he surveyed the room as if searching for foes.

It’s also possible that Chissler has realized your identity and has hired the pirates to capture you. It would look better for the media if he claimed to rescue you from the pirates rather than simply taking you away from the Fire Ministry. Most still think he was an ally of the royal family, after all, Leon added telepathically while adjusting his glasses vis-à-vis his habit.

Sometimes, Leon wasn’t quite sure why he fidgeted with his glasses so much. He had designed the glasses personally to fit the contours of his face and to remain stationary using a special suction system that caused the skin no irritation. He could jostle himself as violently as he wished and the glasses would remain on his face no matter what; unless, of course, he himself wished to take them off or if he was unconscious. When he was young, his father had constantly scoffed at his need for glasses, calling it an undesirable imperfection unbefitting for a true Lurranna. They were originally going to get cybernetic surgery on his eyes to give him perfect vision like most Lurranna, but Leon’s mother found a suitable compromise that didn’t leave him writhing in pain for most of his youth. It was she who first thought of the idea of unremovable glasses, and they had stayed with him ever since. He still had the original lenses that his mother first gave him, he simply adjusted the size as he got older. He even added a few more supplementary features that would’ve put his own father’s sharp eyes to shame, such as infrared and x-ray vision which he controlled mentally, but he thought it best not to reveal those features even to his friends. Women usually found him disconcerting enough without them knowing that he had a means of peeping that perverts would envy.

“Your recommendation is duly noted, Sir Second. I’ll consider it after the wounded here have been tended to,” Éclair answered out loud while nursing Thisimius.

But still, pirates? Éclair went on mentally through their telepathic link. I mean, really? We’ve had no indication that Chissler even realizes my true identity. Besides, I can’t imagine why even he would resort to something like this, or why he’d drive the pirates mad with Dark Water. How would he even have access to such things in the first place?

As they spoke, Éclair applied bandages and medicine to Thisy’s wounds, who had regained consciousness. She still had the large Sun Gem that Kavic had given her. Leon was honestly surprised to see the Viceroy again, even more surprised to find Kavic’s presence a welcomed one.

Thisimius rubbed his wounds tenderly, giving a hearty laugh despite his condition. “I canna remember the last time I came so close to meetin Ol’ Scratch himself. Thank ye, lass. You’re as bonnie as an Angel, ya ken.”

Éclair gave Thisimius a gentle slap to his bulbous hand, though she smiled sweetly all the same. “All I ‘ken’ is that you better stop that scratching before I give you a real wallop.”

Thisimius laughed again, his big, brown belly bouncing with glee. Then he turned to Kavic behind him. “I understand I have ye to thank as well, ya wee devil.”

“Oh, twas’ nothing,” said Kavic, waving a dismissive hand but giving off a rather proud and embarrassed body language. The way he took compliments with obvious delight kind of reminded Leon of Ryan. “Any decent being would’ve done the same. Why, you all probably saved me a dozen times over during our own misadventure last year. And don’t forget that it was you who bravely shielded me and my compatriots with your own body, so it’s the least I could-”

“Stow the codswallop and come ‘ere, ya cheeky lil’ blighter.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Before the Viceroy could utter another word, the Ogre took him in a massive bearhug, laughing merrily and giving the second most powerful man in the Empire a noogie. Leon thought that a few of the dignitaries might faint at the sight.

“Wouldn’t mind too much if the little lady gave me a checkup,” Leon heard Skippy whispering to Tork. “A man might thinks he done died and gone to heaven under her sweet gaze. Yessir! Yes, siree Bob!”

The Dragon blew out smoke from his nostrils. It was the closest Leon could recall of Tork looking angry. “Now I know you’re doing it on purpose just to annoy me! You, sir, are a butcher of English linguistics! A once beautiful and elegant form of communication that my kind helped invent when we visited your people eons ago and taught speech to you savages!”

“How come you don’t give Thisy a hard time when he talks fancy?” complained Skippy in his normal accent as he poked Tork with his finger. Why he still kept up the act in the first place was anyone’s guess.

Tork flapped his wings in irritation, crooking a claw down at Skippy’s face. “Because Thisy comes by his accent honestly! You, sir, are a pretender! A charlatan! An impersonator of the most heinous degree!”

“You don’t have to be so mean about it,” grumbled Skippy in his normal accent, turning away from the Dragon and crossing his arms grumpily.

“In any case,” Rachel said, stepping towards Leon and speaking in a hushed tone. “We should consider relocating. This area is compromised. It may not be safe for you or Éclair.”

Leon had been so caught up in the tomfoolery that he almost forgot about the current crisis. Curse you, Ryan Uruks! he thought privately to himself. Since we became roommates, I’ve grown as easily distractible as you! It’s like having the attention span of a chipmunk!

“Éclair, I think we should consider her advice. The Fire Minister did seem concerned when she sent us.”

Éclair rose to her feet and dusted herself off before addressing him properly. Though she had long left behind her aspirations for royalty, she still spoke like a queen with her back straight and her head erect with purpose.

“I appreciate your opinion, Leon, as always. But you can’t ask me to just sit idly by while our people are fighting all around us. There are still intruders in this facility. We should pinpoint any who remain and dispatch them. It’s the only way to be sure that no harm will come to Ryan.”

“Ryan?” asked Leon, again feeling an unfamiliar sense of alarm whenever Éclair mentioned his name. “What does Ryan have to do with it? Did something happen to him during the attack?”

Come to think of it, during something like this, Ryan would normally be dashing to Éclair’s side in a vain attempt to impress her. Where could the little whelp be?

Before Éclair could answer, Rachel chipped in. “Well, granny did say that this attack might have something to do with him, too. Do you know where he is, Éclair? Maybe we could rendezvous with him and deal with the attack as a single unit. It would definitely be easier keeping the three of you safe if we stick together.”

Éclair looked down uncomfortably. “Well, I’m afraid Ryan might not be in the best of condition at the moment. That’s why I think we should attack what enemy forces we can and try to lead them away from his location.”

As Leon gave serious thought to Éclair’s suggestion, Rachel’s father, who had been tinkering with his equipment and scanners, suddenly ran in the middle of the three, waving his arms frantically. “Sweetcakes! We may have a problem! Whatever we decide to do, I think we should leave this room, toot sweet!”

Instead of berating her father for the ‘sweetcakes’ comment like Leon might’ve expected her to do, Rachel took him by the shoulders empathetically. “What is it? Are there more coming? Did you pick up more on your scanners?”

He breathed heavily, his enlarged, spectacled eyes becoming even larger. “That’s just it. I can’t pick up anything on my scanner. Nothing at all. But before my instruments went dark, I picked up on a huge energy surge in the vicinity. I don’t know what it was, but it had a very similar psionic signature as the Dark Water in those pirates. Only it was bigger. Much bigger. I couldn’t tell where it was exactly, but it looked like it was heading this way!”

Leon began to feel something as well as he held his head which had suddenly become pained as an intense migraine took hold. It was the same feeling he had when ... Something he forgot but knew he should remember. Something that had always been in the back of his mind ever since their escape from Gregory Industries almost a year ago now. A blank space in his memories. An encounter with a force many times more deadly and terrible than Lord Gregory and his Goblin Assassins. Leon didn’t know what it was exactly, but he knew the feeling that overtook him just before it appeared. He also knew that they couldn’t face that darkness then, and they wouldn’t fare any better now.

“Leon?” asked Éclair in concern as she raised a hand to his head.

He grabbed her hand, squeezing it frantically. “He’s right, we need to get out of here.”

Not willing to wait for her answer, Leon ran for one of the exits, but not before a bloodcurdling scream froze him in place. Two bodies dropped to the ground in front of them. Elemental guards that had been flanking the doorway, both Seconds. Then they stepped in. Four masked figures, each one bearing a different emotion on their white opera masks. Cobwebs covered their worn, leather armor and dull-red robes. The one in front bearing a mask of pure rage held two pieces of cloth in his hands. In horror, Leon realized that it wasn’t cloth, but skin. Bloody bits of skin torn from the heads of the two Elementals who now lay dead on the ground, blood seeping all over the floor around their bodies from the gaping wounds that used to be their faces.

Leon remembered them. He remembered how they had defeated both him, Ryan, and a squad of well-armed mercenaries like it was child’s play. He remembered that they seemed invincible ... beyond invincible. Beyond the confines of mortality. And something even deeper. Another memory within a memory. He remembered seeing these creatures even before they appeared last year, like a childhood nightmare long forgotten but dragged to the surface through new trauma.

Without a word, the wraiths glided forward like the wind, their forms sliding across the ground as smoothly as a light piece of fabric caught in the breeze. The nobles and senators screamed in terror as they fled to the other side of the room behind their Elemental protectors. Éclair stepped forward to face them, but Leon pulled her back forcefully.

“We can’t fight them,” he whispered, sweat sliding down his face. “We can only run.”

Elementals stood their ground in a foray against the masked monsters. The creatures barely seemed to notice the elements of fire and lightning that pelted their bodies. Any Elemental that got too close to spar with the four masked men was cut down as black weapons appeared in the creatures’ hands, and then the weapons vanished just as quickly. It was similar to the way Elementals materialized their own weapons from their bodies, but it was much faster. The Elementals adapted quickly, resorting to only using ranged attacks. Rachel, Tork, and Skippy coordinated the Elemental defenders, and their concentrated fire almost seemed to annoy the monsters as they stopped their advance and batted away the attacks with their weapons. The four of them alone held off an Elemental force of close to twenty. Normally, Elementals would be the ones outnumbered but holding their own, but these four mysterious warriors appeared in a class all their own.

Leon could now see each one wielded a different weapon set. The leader with the mask of rage used a long, slender single-edged sword that he held with two hands, using a style similar to ancient Samurai. The one with the smiling mask held two small swords strangely sickle-shaped. He realized from his studies of history that they were similar to khopesh from Egypt, a long-dead nation of Ancient Earth. Another with a mask of confusion wielded two small, black axes similar to tomahawks from an ancient native tribe known as the Cherokee. The last one with a mask of despair used a long pike with a hook at the end, the same that medieval infantry used against calvary.

Normally, Leon might attribute their weapon choice as something akin to how many Elementals forged their arsenals to look similar to ancient weaponry. However, the way they used their weapons and the weapons themselves felt different somehow. It was like the pages of history had come alive right before Leon’s very eyes. He couldn’t explain it, but he somehow knew the hewn and wear on their ancient-looking weapons had been like that since they were first invented in ancient times. And yet, even though their dusty-looking weapons seemed like they should fall apart at any moment, the tools were more than capable of countering strikes from the modern weaponry the Elementals employed. It was like he was seeing the forerunners of Psionic Weapons. The predecessors of all Elemental martial tools.

As the intensity of the Elementals’ attacks increased, Tork threw his shield at one of the invaders in an arc, the blades of his shield aimed at their heads. The leader of the Fallen batted away Tork’s shield with an expert swipe of his sword, using a style derived from kenjutsu. Though his attack failed, Tork’s shield still returned to his arm, his psions calling the weapon back to its point of origin.

Éclair, who had watched in a daze when she saw the creatures, perhaps as shocked as Leon felt, raised her bow to take part in the attack. Leon stopped her, forcing her arrow point to the ground.

“We can’t fight them. We can only run,” he whispered again, sweat dripping down his chin.

“I won’t abandon our comrades,” returned Éclair, her eyes ablaze with the need for battle, a trait she must’ve picked up from Grafael.

Leon searched his mind for an argument that might sway her. “They are after you and they are after me. If we leave, maybe they will follow us. Otherwise, they’ll kill everyone here.”

“I-I don’t...”

“Éclair. They will kill everyone here,” he said slowly.

She seemed to study him for the longest time. Then, with obvious hesitation, she nodded her agreement. “Rachel! We’re going to lead them away!”

“Excuse me,” said Rachel in disbelief. Her father watched in horror from behind his daughter, his droids humming fearfully as they cowered over his shoulders.

“Don’t follow us! If the Fallen chase after us, let them!” ordered Leon. “Inform the Minister! She’ll know what to do!”

I’m counting on you, Rachel, Leon said to her telepathically before she could argue. Track us by our communicators, and then tell the Minister of our whereabouts. Even these things are no match for a Vessel.

Leon pointed straight up, prompting Éclair to release an arrow into the ceiling, creating a huge swath of frozen metal above. Then Leon sent a powerful jet of air from his swords which blew the ice apart, making a sizeable hole for the pair to jump through. Leon waited for Éclair to jump in first as he joined her. He heard a hiss behind him, pleased to know that the Fallen had taken notice of their departure, or otherwise, were extremely unpleased.

Leon and Éclair ran. They were both superbly athletic even for Elementals, meaning that their superhuman-enhanced muscles achieved speeds that not even star athletes could dream of.

“So what’s the plan?” asked Éclair as she ran.

Looking back behind him, Leon could already make out four dark figures jumping from the hole they just made and following behind in the distance. “We’ll go to the training field in the center of Diagora Stadium! That will give Saria plenty of room to wipe these things from existence!”

Saria was not in good form. It had been ages since she’d been as weak as a Third, meaning that the only thing she had to rely on was experience as she fought the Space Pirates. That and Varnus’ watchful protection. Even still, she felt her powers steadily growing stronger little by little. Though she still couldn’t hear Tava, or even feel his presence as she always could, she didn’t have to take so long between battles to recover her psions.

A group of about three pirates had her pinned down with laser fire. Normally, such attacks wouldn’t have been much concern to her as she would simply flare her psions within her armor, and the shots would bounce harmlessly off. Like Psionic Weapons, the strength of Psionic Armor depended on the amount of psions within one’s body, so Saria was nearly indestructible to all but the strongest of attacks at her full power. That not being the case, Saria had to rely on her knowledge of energy manipulation to redirect the laser slugs away from her using a wall-like projection of flame and lightning that danced at her fingertips, acting like a large shield. It was more or less the same defense she had used when Konamay attacked her, though less powerful given her weakened state.

Varnus and a few of her Elemental bodyguards around the battleground noticed her plight, and made like they wanted to help, but she silently dissuaded them with a shake of her head. They had their own battles to deal with, and Saria felt that she needed to regain her powers as soon as possible, even if that meant endangering herself.

Finally after what seemed an eternity, one of the pirates had to pause to reload. That gave Saria just enough breathing room to make a flash flare, an Elemental Flamer technique to create a fire so bright that it forced the retinas to close. Her subordinates were already aware that she had been preparing such an attack by the rhythm of her psions, so they had wisely averted their eyes. No one else but her closest Fire Elementals would’ve known her fighting style so well to predict her attacks so accurately. The Space Pirates, though seemingly more resilient than they ought to have been, reacted in the expected matter. Each of the three shielded their eyes with a howl. That was all the leeway Saria needed.

Smashing her flaming fists together which were already equipped with her reinforced, spiked, orange-glowing gauntlets that served as her weapon of choice, Saria concentrated her psions to her feet and charged. Being a Physical-Type, Saria could enhance her strength, speed, and durability beyond unprecedented levels. Since she specialized in strength, she could only use supersonic acceleration for brief spurts, especially in her weakened condition. With a burst of speed that let her move as fast as a bullet, she was on the three pirates in an instant, zipping around behind them to avoid the wild, blind shots from the two that didn’t need to reload. When she was at their rear flank, she heard the disheartening sound of bones cracking beneath her gauntleted fists as she dispatched all three with quick, devastating jabs to each of their heads. The heads of each pirate exploded in a shower of flames and blood from Saria’s touch. At first, she had tried not to go so hard on the invaders, but they had some kind of enhancement that allowed them to fight well past the limits of the human body, so she could no longer afford to be merciful.