They say that fate can come in odd ways.
Like, if you've been announced as a destructive force, you might be a savior, too.
My teacher once said that he is a destroyer that wants to save others.
I want to be like that, too.
--
The streets were wet with the recent rain. Despite the hill, puddles lined the cobbled roads, splashing as my worn traveling boots planted itself in its centers. Slipping was as easy as falling off a log, especially with me, so above the din of concentration I didn't hear the clatter of hooves behind me until the driver called out. By then, I was leaning heavily on my staff, as if it was a cane. Which it kind of was.
"Hey, you need some help in getting up there, mister?" the man called out to my huffing form.
I looked up to see a dry, well-kept person sitting on a cart, two horses close enough to run me over if they had it in mind. In surprise, I lost my already wobbly footing and fell spectacularly. "Oww… that wasn't nice at all…" I groaned.
"I'd say," laughed the driver. "Come in and I'll get you up."
"No thanks," I said. "It's kind of you to offer, but it's healthier for me to stay on my feet," I added in respect, bowing as soon as I pulled myself up with the help of my staff. Starting to walk again, I kept moving while the man slowed to talk a bit.
"By the way, what business do you have in that area, anyway? Not a lot of people walk in any more, I've heard."
"Actually, it's because of that issue. I hope to clear the area so that it can live again."
"Are you a Father of the church?" he asked, cocking his head. "There are demons afoot, then?" he added in a quivery voice.
"Not really. I just happened to pass by," I said, running into a deeper collection of rain, shoes splashing the water. The hem of my deep emerald traveling cloak got wet, but the clearing sky didn't soak me any more. "Well, I guess I'll see you around." I waved with my free hand as I turned towards the forked path, not even bothering to see if he saw the gesture; I was so concentrated on keeping myself out of mud-laced water. Slapping the butt of my staff in another puddle, I watched the ripples pass into the stone, walking my way into the town of Reverie.
Proper name, I thought, looking around at the quiet, dreary houses. What people stayed I could see were now tainted by fear. Their faces were dull and twitchy, heads always turning to look at their backs. Neighbors feared to meet each other's faces. The situation was really…pitying.
"Why can't I play with my friends anymore, Mother?"
I shook my head, drawing a few stares for the weakening gesture.
There wasn't a problem in searching for an inn to leave my things at; every room was empty. I chose one by the entrance of the town and asked a little girl inside for a room. At first she squeaked and ran under the table, but after some coaxing she led me into a decent room on the second floor.
The view was sullen, being of the town. Yet I almost could see the beauty that once lived here: a well with people crowding around it, a market of vibrant vegetables. Now, though, I could see nothing. I wanted to change that as soon as possible, and after setting down my suitcase, I turned to leave.
A woman that looked like the older version of the girl, probably the innkeeper, walked in as soon as I reopened the door. "Are you planning to see the doctor for your leg?"
"How did you notice?" I asked, tilting my head.
"Your footsteps were…wrong. And you leaned a little on that staff of yours."
I looked into the woman's eyes. There was, like all the others, fear in there, but open concern also. Living in a town like this, it was a rare treasure to see someone like her. The light inside dispelled any second thoughts I had about going through with this.
"I'll be alright, miss," I said, smiling. "But thank you."
"Even in the bleakest of existences, there is hope."
Trudging down into the street, I headed immediately towards the church. From my window I had seen the spiraling steeple in the air, piercing in its gray color and oblong shape. Like everything, it and the entire building was a thing with an aura of sadness around it. The gardens didn't even have weeds in it; the soil was so contaminated with pentacles. But I walked in….and wished I didn't.
A single man lay on the altar, his robes marking him as a real father of the church. There weren't any pentacles around him, and yet a savage cut on the neck sat only half-cleaned on his putrefying body. This priest, a servant of God, was probably killed with human hands, perhaps because of his inability to save his people.
"Why don't you send them back to Hell, Father? Why leave them to torture us?"
I pushed the memories away with my auburn locks of hair. Short as it may be, the gesture was a habit spawned by the past days when I once did have a waterfall of gold. It was a relic from the past, and I didn't want to let it go. Not yet, anyway.
The door behind me suddenly creaked open. Turning at the noise, I did a little fidget as the shadow flew down the middle of the floor. As I looked closer, I saw the cart driver standing there, his nice coat swaying with the wind outside. Actually, his too-nice coat. People who could afford clothing like that won't be driving horses in the rain, alone, especially in a haunted area such as the one around Reverie. It didn't make sense. "Sir?" I asked, suddenly feeling rather nervous, leg feeling pins and needles.
"Exorcist," he whistled, the echo like a wave of shivers. "Ruin my trip, didn't you?" I widened my eyes as the man ripped apart, revealing a mass of cannons and guns over a hard sphere nearly five times as large as I might be. Its mask-like face stared at me, turning all the barrels towards my face. Surprise hummed at my brain since the surfaces were all so shiny I saw myself on the cylinders.
I shook my head, shoulders trembling. "I was walking beside a level two Akuma all this time and didn't realize it," I laughed lightly, my voice shaking. "Such an idiot. But you missed something, too," I added.
"What's that, little man?" it asked.
"Exactly that. I'm not male," I said, knocking my staff against the tiled floor with a clapping sound.
"Innocence, activate!"
Light sparked to life at my feet, reaching heavenward by running up the wood in my hand. I watched as the oak blurred into ebony, the inky darkness spreading over the entire staff from bottom up to add an additional spike atop the smooth rod, crystal clear. Ribbons the color of the night sky formed from the flare, wrapping around both of my hands to ensure a tight grip, among other things. Complete, the change's light vanished into the air, leaving the anti-Akuma weapon to me.
"My name is Chris, and I'll free your soul, Akuma," I said, pointing the tip at its tearless eyes.
"Ooh, I'm so scared. But unless you can run, which I doubt with your leg," it sneered, "You're the one who's going to have a freed soul."
"But with you around, I can run." With that, I used the strength of both legs and gained a running start, tossing my staff like a javelin and spearing it right in the center of its face. A cry of many emotions was ripped from its throat as it painfully pulled the hooked tip from its flesh, the wound not serious enough to have it crash down yet. "How did you…?"
"I don't know either," I replied, planting my wrapped hands onto the stone floor. "But I like running and jumping without pain and collapse, which are incentives to help beings like you."
My staff, thrown away somewhere in the pews, vanished into the rock. It rose into my hand like a fast-growing tree as I drew it from the scabbard of earth, fully ready to help its accommodator once more. "So I'm going to hop around a bit to celebrate, do you mind?" With that, I leapt high enough to graze the ceiling and crashed down on the multitude of weapons, bending quite a few.
"How dare you!" it screeched, tossing me off. I landed nimbly on a wooden seat, the planks creaking with disuse as I forced my weight on them.
"Why are you so carefree with a level two Akuma facing you off?" it demanded, firing giant bullets into my area. Smoke blinded me for a second while I crawled under the boards. I swore softly as the blasting sound got closer.
"Why are you making fun of a being that can crush you like a bug?" Bullets sunk holes in the floor inches away.
"Why are you so confident a single exorcist can bring me down?!"
"Because then I know that Reverie can be free of the Akuma that's using them as snacks in between fights," I hissed, leaping from my hiding spot to thrust a final blow point blank as the bullets ate into my hiding spot. Shrapnel flew as I deflected the black blizzard of ammunition, the metal ricocheting off the anti-Akuma weapon as I swung it in fast circles to make a light shield. Soon close enough to guarantee a hit, I swung a final arc and plunged the sharp end deep inside the body so that only a foot or so stuck out.
"Give rest to this poor soul and return it to the skies; Heaven's Leaves: winter!" I cried, unraveling my hand ribbons in a fluid motion. Using them like a conductor's baton, I made a slashing movement from the center out, orchestrating the explosion of the splintering branch-like shards of my staff, blowing them outwards to set an instant death for the machine before me.
Watching the outburst of smoke from its quickly disappearing body, I hoped that the Akuma's soul is finally able to smile again.
--
After cleaning up the mess as best I could, I limped out the door on my reconstructed staff, everything once again turned painfully normal with my Innocence's deactivation. The support gone, my leg stung like crazy with every step. It was one of those inconveniences of life, anyway, so I hobbled into town.
I was confused with the empty streets at first. There was nobody there at all, and with the closed doors and tightly shut windows with thick blinds I could guess where they went. But why?
"Look out!"
Rolling in instinct, I luckily kept my life as more bullets came out of nowhere, their size familiar. "More Akuma?" I blurted, surprise over-spilling to seep into my voice.
"Get out of here, boy!" Somebody shoved me really hard, sending me sprawling to the ground again, and into a puddle, to boot.
Wiping the water from my face, I looked up to see a real exorcist, dressed in a black waist-length coat with matching pants. The voice I heard sounded male, and sure enough when I followed him with my eyes he looked the gender, too. On his hands were thick, golden full-length swords running from the back of a matching glove, smaller silver blades peeking out the fingertips and clattering with a ringing sound as he ran past me to avoid being shot.
He twirled around suddenly and raked the two Akuma chasing him, scarring them with five curving lines each. One screamed and saw me hiding in the opening to the alleyway. As fast as it could it rushed to me and pointed a barrel at my head with a loud clicking sound. I groaned as the exorcist turned his head and got distracted, nearly getting blasted apart by the other Akuma's bullets.
"Idiot," I mumbled. "Innocence, activate!"
The Akuma didn't know what hit it when I crashed my staff onto its head to crack it open like an egg, an instant death in its weakened state. From the rebound, I turned to the remaining battlers. Neither exorcist nor Akuma knew what happened as I rushed forward to break the two apart and slammed the latter to the ground in a single blow. Stunned, the exorcist just stood there even as the Akuma began firing again as it returned to its floating position, at me thankfully or he'd have been dead.
Feinting to the right, I ducked under the thing and kicked it skyward. It speared itself on my staff upon landing and exploded, covering the two of us in its acrid smell. Plugging my nose against the scent of blood and flesh, I hid in my thick coat until the smoke subsided and the skies were visible again. Or at least I tried to; someone shook me out before the air cleaned out. "What?" I yelled, nose wrinkling.
"Who are you?" was the reply.
I uncovered my eyes to see the exorcist, but in much better quality than before. He was definitely a 'he' and was also about fourteen, same as me. Brown, smooth hair covered most of his long face with deep amber eyes peeking out of the mess. Kind, curious eyes, they were.
"My name's Chris," I said, brushing dust off my coat as I deactivated my weapon again. "So who're you, exorcist?"
"I'm Mana Walker," he replied, "From the Black Order."
I was jolted into looking at him. "Walker, you said?"
"Yeah," he laughed, a familiar ring to it. "Father named me after his adopted father."
"He never told me he had a son," I mused, looking into his face to try and spot identical traits.
"Huh? You've seen my father?" asked Mana, eyes suddenly lighting up. "Where? Is his name Allen Walker?"
"Yeah," I said, surprised. "But he left me to my own schedule so we could work faster. Well, once he knew I could take care of myself, that is. We agreed to meet again every equinox and solstice in random places. He's doing well, last I saw."
"I wish I could see him that often," he sighed. "Ever since Uncle chased him out because of Mother marrying him, I've only seen him on my birthdays, and only briefly, too. He gave me my Innocence two years ago," he said, showing me the elbow-length gloves he was wearing. "I was fourteen."
"Eh? So you're sixteen?" He nodded. "You inherited his shortness. It's kind of funny, since you're only an inch or so taller than I am, bean sprout junior."
I thought I saw an anger mark on him before he replied, "What's so odd about that?"
"One, I'm fourteen years old. Two, I'm a girl."
"Say what?" he sputtered, jaw dropping. I rolled my eyes, already accustomed to the reaction. "But isn't Chris a boy's name?"
"Have a problem?" I asked, nudging my staff against his head.
"Oh, no," he said, backing off. "Anyway, do you…um, want to go back to the Black Order with me? It's a while before the Summer Solstice so maybe if you want to…?"
"Oh, why not. Teacher always wanted me to see it anyway."
Mana then proceeded to hold his hand out. I could see the glove he was wearing with pretty good precision: silver with a small golden cross on the palm. Unhesitant in understanding, I covered it with my own hand, watching my bare, pale flesh disappear into his oddly larger fingers.
"And one more question," I suddenly blurted.
"What?" he asked, dropping the handshake.
"Would your uncle kill me for knowing your father?"
