58.
The Hellflower
The scent of burning flesh burst out from the tunnel as Vance, Eden,
and Cliff exploded through the crowd. Their psynergy carried them forward, knocking
others aside and repelling their weapons until they reached the front of the group.
Vance landed on the ground and quickly began sprinting. "Keep moving!"
Eden and Cliff caught up with him, and the three went speeding down the
dark, metal-walled tunnel. After a long period of running, they reached an
unmarked intersection.
"Great..." Cliff muttered. "How do we decide which way to
go?"
"Who cares?!" Vance shouted, dashing forward. "Just keep
going! If it's a dead end, we’ll just blow through it! There's no use standing
around wasting time!"
"He has a point!" Eden agreed.
"Alright, alright!" Cliff shouted, then glanced behind to the
violent crowd. "Hey, wait up!"
*
In front of the labyrinth’s final room, a single teenager stood laughing
in triumph. I can't believe it. Am I really the first one here?!
He turned around and looked down the small passage he had come from –
one of many that connected to the large space. It was still empty. Before him
stood two large storm gates, clearly marked with a neon sign that read EXIT.
This is too awesome. I thought at first that blowing up the other people
in my group so early on might bring me bad luck, but it’s only helped me!
Matthew Terrance slipped a large red rucksack off his back and unzipped
it. The bag was filled with packets of ammonium nitrate.
Just a common fertilizer... Matthew smiled to himself. Useless it’s mixed with oil, that is.
Matthew scooped out the bags and set them up around the exit. After
living through so much ridicule for having a 'useless' power, he could barely
contain his excitement now. Matthew had always been a clumsy fighter, and when
he discovered that his specialty merely allowed him to chemically alter his saliva
into oil, he was devastated.
Sure, it could technically impede his enemies if used properly, but it was
far from the destructive prowess that the boy had always dreamed of...that is,
until he discovered the beautiful compound known as ammonium nitrate.
All I need to do is cover this in my saliva, add in a bit of psynergy
as a primer, and then voila! I could probably destroy this entire foundation.
Good thing I came to the registration early. If I had been stuck in one of those
groups that were far away, I could have been–
Pain suddenly shot through the 19-year-old's body, and Matthew moved his
head downward to look at the source. He didn't want to believe it, but a sword was
poking out through the center of his chest.
It felt as if time had stopped. He could no longer say anything, and he
could no longer hear anything. As red hot pain smothered his consciousness,
Matthew closed his eyes.
A masked knight removed his double-pronged blade from the boy's stomach
and let the lifeless body fall on top of the explosives.
"A fitting end for a cowardly murderer," the knight boomed
through his thick iron helmet. It had a long, accentuated snout, a furrowed brow
masking slanted eye holes, and two pointy ears around the arc of the skull.
The wolf knight's chain link armor clinked as he turned to face his ten
subordinates. They all wore the same identical royal insignia on their armor:
two red circles, one thick and thin, with a black, Celtic cross resting in the center.
While each soldier looked capable and strong, they all paled in comparison to
their hulking leader. He raised an iron gauntlet and pointed to the exit from
the labyrinth, commanding his men forward.
"We have achieved success," the wolf knight spoke. "Let
us rest, and pray for our brothers and sisters who sacrificed so much for us. We
will dominate the tournament – this is only the beginning!"
*
"The hell?"
Vance stopped suddenly in his tracks, nearly tripping Cliff and Eden
with his surprise.
Cliff stumbled forward. "Hey Vance, what's the big...woah."
Numerous multi-colored batons with round brown ends floated in the hallway,
as if suspended in the air by invisible strings. Shiny and resonating with psynergy,
each one looked about as big as a baseball bat.
"Are these being controlled by someone?" Eden asked warily.
"Not necessarily," Cliff explained. "Some psynergy users
are able to imbue their auras into inanimate objects and leave it there to perform
a specific task. It requires an advanced level of control, but realistically,
this could just be an unmanned trap."
"You're right about one thing." A voice from the other end of
the passageway floated down to the trio. "I do have an advanced level
of control over my psynergy."
As the figure came into view, the Knights saw a lithe, tanned man with
a bony face, clad in an embroidered tunic and a dark maroon cloak. As the cloak
swished with his pronounced steps, Vance noticed its odd insignia: two circles
with a Celtic cross in the center.
"Oh, hello," Vance called out to him. "I guess you’re
going to give me your big, scary introduction now?"
"I am Franz Beauregard of the Devonshire Royal Army," the man
spoke calmly. "I came here along with 99 elite soldiers chosen by our commander,
General Loupine, in order to dominate the tournament and place the clock back
into the king’s possession, where it truly belongs."
"Devonshire?" Cliff immediately recognized the name.
"The dominating kingdom in the dimension of Midgarde?"
Eden studied the man carefully. "But if you stand here blocking us
like this, then you'll lose the tournament too!"
"That is of no concern to me," Franz replied in a monotonous tone.
"89 of us were ordered to disperse throughout the tournament complex in
order to seal off every route that leads to the exit, thus allowing our general
and his troop to reach it safely. With this strategy, our victory is absolute."
Cliff raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like too bad a plan,
actually."
"We will win the clock," Franz said, "and with it, begin
our conquest to paradise."
"What?" Cliff asked. "Devonshire is searching for the clocks
too?"
"We have a legend," Franz began. "It speaks of the greatest
swordsman ever known: King Arthur, and his twelve companions. Arthur was crucified
after being framed for a crime he did not commit, and then his followers–"
"Enough!" Vance shouted. "Cliff, don't you realize that
he's trying to stall us?"
Vance reached forward to grab a baton. Instantly, it soared downward
and smashed him in the forehead.
The Albavitrean screamed in pain and grabbed at his bloodied flesh. "Dammit!"
Franz smirked. "These batons were all born from my power. In a
split-second, I can make them crush your skull in. You are stuck."
"The hell I am!" Vance retorted. He stepped forward again, then
quickly swerved and tried to dodge the baton. As he turned, the pillar slammed into
his side and sent him crashing to the floor.
"Vance!" Cliff called out. "Let's just turn back and go
another way."
"No way! It took us ten minutes just to get to the end of this
one!"
"I apologize," Franz said without a hint of emotion. "But
there is nothing I can do."
Vance stood up. A thin stream of blood ran down from the broken skin on
his forehead. "I don't care what you say. We're getting through here!"
Franz sighed. "Have it your way."
"This is nothing." Vance approached the pillars once more.
"If we can't even make it past an idiot with a couple sticks, we don't deserve
to go to the finals!"
Vance dashed forward and watched as the pillar flew straight toward his
forehead. He placed two psynergy-charged hands forward, let the pillar slam into
his head yet again, then grabbed on tight.
The pain was dazzling, but he didn't hesitate. "I told you..."
The pillar flew back up to its original position, and Vance let it carry
him upward. As the pillar returned, Vance let go, and his body went soaring
over the gauntlet like a human bullet.
"You're not stopping us here!" As he finished, he brought both
heels down on Franz's head. The soldier’s own barrier shattered instantly, and
he fell to the floor, dazed. The pillars soon followed him.
Cliff led Eden up to their partner. "Not bad, Vance. Brute force,
but it did the job."
After a deep breath, Vance turned around to face them. "I just
didn’t want to listen to any more gloating."
Cliff rolled his eyes and moved past him. "Of course. Come on, we’ve
wasted enough time here. Let’s go!"
"Here." Eden pulled a handkerchief out of the back pocket of
her jacket and dabbed at the blood on Vance's forehead. "Make sure the
blood doesn’t get in your eyes, or it’ll really sting."
"Y-yeah..." Vance stammered, noticing the compassion that illuminated
Eden's eyes. "I-I know."
"There," Eden said, as she carefully wiped away red from his
eyebrows. "All better."
"Okay, okay," Vance turned away suddenly. "Thanks."
Eden jerked back awkwardly. "I just..."
"C'mon!" Vance rubbed his eyes, pushed some hair out of his face,
and then shot down the hallway. "We need to find the exit!"
*
"Magnificent," Saffron sighed as he sauntered toward the labyrinth’s
circular exit room. Standing just outside the chamber were eleven armored men with
their swords drawn. "I feared my arrival hadst been too hasty. Who art thou?"
"How did you get in here?" One soldier demanded. "All
the routes should have been secured!"
"Forsooth..." Saffron nodded slowly. "T'were a pair of
knaves, dead-set on preventing my progression through a particular protuberance.
Alas, they lacked strength to back their pluck! Such tomfoolery shan't be tolerated
in this frantic contest of wills, eh, dogs of Devonshire?"
"What did you call us?!" A younger man shouted. "And why
are you speaking to us using the Theater Tongue?!"
"Open thine eyes," Saffron said, gracefully gesturing to his armor.
"I am but one of thy kin–"
"Saffron Morrigan." As he stepped out from behind his line of
soldiers, the wolf knight's voice was thick with disgust. "The bastard
child that single-handedly destroyed Devonshire a decade ago."
"Sir Loupine," Saffron curtsied mockingly. "My honor'd lord."
"How dare you show your face around us?" General Loupine growled.
"You ruined all hope we had for the future, you bastard!"
"A bastard I am," Saffron said solemnly. "'By thy majesty's
hand."
"Silence," Loupine seethed. "You have no right to speak of
the late King Cuthbert!"
"Still?" Saffron said, amazed. "A legacy as foul as a
witch's arse still binds thee? Magnificent."
"Silence!" Loupine shoved forward and unsheathed his enormous,
double-pronged blade. "You gained our trust, lived with us like a brother,
and then turned around and stabbed us all in the back. There is no greater liar
than you, Hellflower!"
Saffron didn't flinch. "Rather a liar than a rapist and a thief."
"Enough!" Loupine thrust his gleaming blade forward.
"Saffron...ever since I saw your shadow that day, ever since I watched the
castle walls come crumbling down around me, I vowed that if I ever saw you again,
I would kill you! Not only for sending our society into a downward spiral, but also
for the sake of universal pace!"
"And for nothing more it shall be," Saffron replied. "Go,
then, fashion me thy scapegoat. I’m loathe to curse my freedom, but its price
doth burden me."
Loupine swung down his broadsword, aiming straight for Saffron's head.
"Egad," Saffron gasped, as he raised his forefinger and stopped
General Loupine's blade. "So gung-ho, he wouldst fork me like a leg of mutton."
"Why did you betray us?" Friedrich Loupine growled between gritted
teeth. "Why did you join hands with the Dark Zodiacs?!"
"Why else?" Saffron smiled. "To steal from the thief."
"What's...that...supposed...to mean?" Friedrich choked out,
as he struggled to push against Saffron's might.
"Our world is no good, my good sir, and God sits upon it, set to
maketh a merry fool of us all. The Dark Zodiacs shall lay waste to Him and His."
"I can't believe it..." Friedrich gasped in horror. "You...you're
absolutely out of your mind."
"Yes," Saffron laughed. "So I've heard."
He pushed his finger forward, shattering Loupine's blade. The man who
had served as general of the Devonshire Imperial Army for over thirty years and
was loved by his countrymen stumbled forward in shock.
Saffron removed a ruby-hilted bastard sword from his back. "Be thee
at peace," he cooed, "and awaken from this cruel nightmare."
"General Loupine!" the soldiers of Devonshire screamed,
watching as Saffron cleaved their master cleanly in two.
"No!" one soldier moaned. "We can't lose here, men! We can't!"
"The General's death will not be in vain!"
"Kill the Hellflower!"
Overcome with adrenaline, the ten soldiers ran forward.
"And so they rush to death." Saffron raised his ruby-hilted sword
back up. "Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
