Chapter 26: Men in Masks

I searched desperately for a response, and then I remembered the White Dragon. “But your daughter fought off her own mate to defend us!”

“And see how she was repaid for her kindness!” roared the hawk back at me, briefly taking on a Dragon’s form before returning to its bird illusion.

It was the first sign of an emotional reaction, one which I regretted prompting.

“Your kind imprisoned her for their accursed sciences after she sacrificed more than you can possibly imagine. And she did it all for you. My son may have been brash, but now I don’t believe he was wrong. I can already see a future filled with strife and chaos because of your presence here. Humans are too selfish and infantile. Despite the centuries of history already behind you, none of you have learned anything. You refuse to better yourselves because you’re too proud and rebellious. Can you honestly sit here and tell me that humanity will have a positive influence on the universe?”

The light was slowly fading. Leon and the others caught up with Ryan. Leon now held Éclair in his arms while the mercenaries searched for transportation. Luckily, Leon brought medical equipment, so they had managed to bandage and close most of Éclair’s wounds, but mercenary care was no substitute for a doctor.

Ryan nursed his own recently healed wound. It wasn’t bleeding, but it still felt like a liter of acid had been poured on his chest. He doubted that the scar would ever fade, even when it fully healed. But that wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was trying to lie to Leon Lurranna, a man that could literally read minds (though he denied it). Ryan did his best not to think or talk about Silvia’s involvement, but he got the feeling that Leon suspected something.

“So, let me get this straight. You found Éclair like this.”

“Uh-huh,” said Ryan with a nod.

“No enemies in sight. Not Galzar, Silvia, or Gregory and his goons.”

“Uh-huh,” repeated Ryan.

“And while you carried her, you slipped and fell on a jagged piece of glass that cut open your chest.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And that explains the blood all over your clothes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And then a Leprechaun appeared, healed you, and disappeared in a green puff of smoke, which explains the newly healed scar on your chest.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you expect me to believe this, why?”

Ryan spread his hands out in mock innocence. “Oh, come on! What’s not to believe? Leprechauns are real!”

“Perhaps, but even if they did possess mystical healing powers and disappeared in clouds of green smoke ... last I checked, they were interested in profit, not charity.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little racist right now?”

Leon leaned in close, and in a dark voice, whispered in Ryan’s ear. “I know Silvia was here. I know that she attacked Éclair and that you were injured trying to protect her. I also know that it was Silvia who healed your wounds and that you let her go out of some deluded sense of noble obligation.”

“Are you sure you don’t read minds, pal?” probed Ryan, trying to change the subject.

“Shut up! Do you realize what you’ve done? You let not only a potential enemy run free, but a potential witness. The knowledge she possesses could’ve swayed Sorric himself. How do you expect us to stop this war if everyone is as soft and naïve as you?”

“She saved my life, Leon,” said Ryan, rising in anger. “She’s not the enemy! Not anymore!”

“That’s debatable.”

“Now you listen to me,” growled Ryan, pointing an angry finger under Leon’s nose. “You paranoid, overbearing, son of a-”

Éclair started to stir in Leon’s arms, and Ryan ceased his ranting. Her eyes fluttered open, and she turned to Leon weakly.

Man! Why does he get to be the first one she sees when she wakes up?

Éclair looked from Ryan to Leon for a few seconds with a vacant expression, as if she couldn’t decide if she were dreaming. Then in a weak voice, she finally said, “Leon? Ryan? Is it really you?”

“It’s us alright,” said Ryan. “You gave us quite a scare, Éclair. Heh, heh. Get it, I just rhymed.”

Éclair smiled a little at the joke before a graver memory rose to the surface. “Grafael! Did you find him?”

“We did, Éclair,” said Leon, adjusting his glasses slightly. “He’s alive. Alive and safely on his way to Minister Kaves, as we will be soon.”

“That’s good,” she said weakly.

Her eyelids sagged as if she might go back to sleep. But suddenly, her head shot up and a wail escaped her lips as she raised her bandaged hand and clutched her ears in pain.

“Éclair! What’s wrong?” cried Ryan.

Éclair did not answer as she started hyperventilating, her chest heaving up and down in ragged breaths.

“What’s wrong with her, Leon?”

However, Leon seemed to be almost as alarmed as Éclair as his breathing became just as frantic. Ryan could only stare in horror as his friends writhed and jerked until finally, a single word escaped from Éclair’s and Leon’s mouths at the same time.

“Fallen.”

Éclair’s head went limp. Leon tittered with Éclair in his arms, but regained his balance at the last moment. Éclair looked dead. Ryan felt her pulse and breathed easier when he found out that she had only passed out again.

As for Leon, he shook his head a couple times and said in a shaky voice, “Well, that was unusual.”

“Are you still going to tell me that you don’t know who these Fallen guys are!” shouted Ryan.

“Fallen ones,” said Leon in a haunted voice. “They ... They’re here. They’ve come for...”

“Sir,” said one of the mercs whose name Ryan couldn’t remember, not because he didn’t care, but only because he had trouble remembering new names and faces. “We found a transport. If you’re ready to get underway again, we can continue to the Ministers.”

Ryan had to admit that these mercenary guys had come full circle. Not that he trusted them completely, it’s just that he found it encouraging that they could find something to relate to one another ... other than trying to kill each other.

The other ten or so mercenaries gathered around their commander in single files and stood at attention with their energy rifles awaiting Ryan’s orders. Ryan felt rather proud to be the one giving orders for a change.

“Thank you, lieutenant,” said Ryan. “I think it would be best to leave now. Something weird is going on with these two.”

Night had descended completely now. The only lights were the stars shining above as all the streetlights had been deactivated during the evacuation. Normally, stars couldn’t be seen at all from Tarrus because of all the urban lights of the city. However, the recent evacuation of the area created a blackout all across the streets, allowing the stars to shine through at last.

“Very good,” said the merc as he glanced about uneasily while turning away. “The men are starting to get spooked. There’s something creepy going on around-”

As the mercenary turned around, a strange man in a pale white mask appeared before him. The man wore an opera-like mask with a face of pure hatred depicted in its features. He had black leather armor and a tattered red cape covered in cobwebs. As far as Ryan could tell, he carried no weapons, but that didn’t make his presence any less eerie.

Without a word or warning, the man in the opera mask brought up his hand and backslapped the lieutenant so hard that part of his face exploded in a shower of blood. Ryan was struck frozen with fear. It felt so much like the Dark Creature that Ryan expected to hear his blood-curdling laughter echoing through the streets of Tarrus.

Before any of the mercenaries could react, more opera-masked creatures descended, each one of them similarly dressed but wearing different expressions on their haunting masks. More mercenaries fell, one man was cut clean in half at the waist. Another was split in two from skull to sternum.

As Ryan looked closely, he saw ghost-like weapons materializing from their hands and then vanishing in puffs of black smoke. The creatures moved so fast that it looked like they had no weapons at all, but they were there alright. Normal humans probably couldn’t see the weapons materialize and then vanish so quickly.

It seemed similar to the way that Elementals could summon their weapons from inside them, but much faster, like the weapons didn’t exist until their wielders were already slicing through their victim’s helpless bodies.

Everything about these creatures spoke of some ghostly force that was definitely not human, maybe not even mortal. When some of the mercenaries retaliated with their energy weapons that could cook a man alive in his own skin, the masked men didn’t even bother to dodge or block.

They just kept killing the men as if they hardly even noticed the scorch marks piercing their bodies. Finally, one of the masked men approached Ryan. This one had a disturbing grin on his mask that made Ryan wonder if the real face under the mask was just as grotesque.

Ryan didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t fight, he couldn’t even summon up the strength to run away. He was paralyzed. A gust of wind shot through Ryan’s hair as purple-glowing blades glinted in his peripheral vision. Leon hurled his dueling swords through the air like small hurricanes twirling towards the masked men. The masked men easily dodged the flying swords, even avoiding the blades when they came back to Leon’s hands.

Being the first to recover, Leon turned back to Ryan and said, “Take care of her!”

Somehow, that gave Ryan enough willpower to take Éclair’s limp form from Leon as he cradled her protectively. Leon rushed his opponents with as much bravery as any warrior, but he was no match for these evil beings.

As Leon ran forward, two of them came out of nowhere and threw him to the ground while also kicking his swords away. When he tried to recover, a third one picked him up by the throat and raised him over its head with one arm. Leon gasped and clawed at his throat, but to no avail.

Seeing his friend in peril awakened some of Ryan’s inner fire. He gently set Éclair to the ground before jumping out to save Leon with his sword raised. However, as he jumped in midair, a fourth one appeared and clotheslined him in the neck, making him backflip through the air, skidding his head against the ground. That was the last thing Ryan could remember before fading into unconsciousness.

The First of the Fallen strengthened his grip on the dark-eyed one’s windpipe. The youth clawed with desperation born of fear, but his struggles proved futile. First was the strongest of the Fallen Four – nothing could break his grip. Slowly, the dark-eyed one lost consciousness, and First loosened his grip. It would not do to kill the youths. The masters would be very upset if the young ones died before their purpose could be fulfilled.

First placed the dark-eyed one gently on the cold pavement of the accursed city of Tarrus. When the masters deemed fit, this planet would rue the day it ever sprouted life. Until that day came, certain chores had to be done. Yes, chores ... endless tasks needing attention. The work of the Fallen was never done. The Fallen never rested. They did not need to.

Second of the Fallen eyed the boy with his sharp eyes and grinning face. “A fine catch. A fine catch indeed. Masters will be pleased.”

Second had never fully adapted to the verbal tongue that these lesser beings employed. There was a time that the Fallen would not have to resort to such crude methods of communication, but that was ages past. The Fallen had changed. The Fallen had fell.