RISING SUN

Copyright July 19, 2012 By Rory V. Pascual

Prologue

The midnight hour should be the time when all little boys are fast asleep, lost in dreams of adventure and heroic grandeur. But, this was not the case for one boy who was tossing and turning on his bed in his room in a grand castle. For the past four nights, he was plagued by nightmares of a terrible siege, which had brought a great city crashing to the ground. Terrifying visions of an enormous half-human, half-insect-like shadow he had tried to stop, but whose tremendous power literally blew his poor body apart. In his earlier dreams, the shadow's words were nothing more than susurrations punctuated by clicks of mandibles, so that he could not understand what was being said.

This fifth night, however, as his dream self was yet again blown to oblivion, the shadow spoke with horrible clarity a single word. "Missschieeeffff."

It was then that the boy sat bolt upright on sweat-drenched sheets, furious, flashing jade green eyes falling upon the magpie dozing on its perch at the foot of the bed. Seizing the pillow which he had earlier been crushing the stuffing out of, he hurled it at the slumbering bird. The pillow found its target, and a couple of ebony feathers were thrown into the air at the impact. Before it could land on the floor, the magpie remembered it had wings and soared toward the ceiling. It then dived back toward the boy and began raining fierce staccato pecks upon his head.

"What idiotic notion has entered your fool head as to inflict such an indignity upon my person?" the magpie demanded, tearing a few strands of black hair out of the boy's scalp for good measure. "Can't a hardworking bird such as I get a good night's sleep?"

"I was going to say the same thing to you!" the boy declared. "You've been sending your nightmares into my mind! I knew it was you the minute that damnable wraith said the word 'Mischief'!"

The magpie settled down on the bed beside him. "I was not having a nightmare," it said pointedly. "In fact, I was having a very pleasant dream of a lady with voluptuous assets whom I had the pleasure of consorting with in the past."

"If it wasn't you who's been giving me nightmares, then who was it?" The boy ruffled his hair in exasperation. "Argh! I haven't had a good night's sleep in four days!"

"What was your nightmare about?"

The boy told the magpie then about his disturbing dreams. The bird's feathers bristled, feeling a chill course through its blood.

"That nightmare you're having is a memory from recent past, something neither of us should remember since I purged it from both our minds," the magpie said. The bird turned its head toward the light of an, as yet, unseen sun rising at the horizon. "Something is not right here." It looked at the boy again. "Open your mind to me. Maybe I can trace the nightmare to its source. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

As the boy obeyed, the bird began to glow with sorcerous energies as it willed itself to be transported to the nightmare's source. As its physical form began to fade, it was then that the unexpected happened. The boy lunged for the bird and wrapped his arms around it, so that he too was taken along.

In a matter of seconds, boy and bird found themselves facing the heart of the blazing sun.

"You fool!" the magpie cried. "What have you done?"

But the boy did not listen to the bird's rants. Instead, he stared, mesmerized, at the pulsing dark shadow at the sun's core.

"Are you the one who has been sending me those nightmares?" the boy called out. "Reveal what business you have with me, because I will not have you disturbing my sleep any longer!"

A bone-chilling voice answered, "You don't remember me." It was a statement of fact, not a question.

"How could I remember someone I don't know?"

There was a moment's silence. Realization dawned upon the shadow and he chuckled. "Oh, I see! You have split your soul into two parts. I must confess that I did not recognize you at first in your present form. But I most certainly sensed your true nature in that other." The shadow turned to the bird. "You remember me, don't you?"

"It's impossible!" the magpie gasped out. "You're dead! It was Thor who ended your life!"

"Yes, thanks to interference on your part. But your brother made the mistake of putting my mortal remains in the heart of this sun, not knowing that I could be restored through its life-giving energies. Now, I have returned, and I intend to have my revenge on he who had instigated my demise. And I believe you know who I'm talking about."

Before boy and bird could react, they were seized by long black tendrils. Powerless, neither of them could break free from that terrible grip.

The shadow drew his hapless captives close to him, so that he could glare at them through blazing red eyes. "You are useless to me in your present forms." He gazed straight into the cold heart of the magpie. "You wish to be reborn in the body of this boy. Allow me to grant your wish. Let me return you to the being you once were."

As the shadow said this, the boy and the magpie were engulfed by raw dark energies which shredded their bodies into molecules. Despite the agony, the boy could feel himself joining with the spirit inside the bird – his body maturing rapidly so that his clothes were torn to pieces, unable to accommodate his growing bulk. Centuries of memories were re-encoded inside his mind. Magical energies suffused every fiber of his being. Overwhelming them all was that insidious malice he never wanted to feel again…

"NO! I WILL NOT BE EVIL AGAIN!" he cried out his defiance as he unleashed the magic that he had long forgotten. The sorcerous energy broke the tendril that was holding him.

The shadow gazed at the breathless boy now turned man before him with undisguised delight and ardor. "So…this is your TRUE form. You sought to disguise a comely form with one that is twisted with malice and hatred in order to incite fear in the hearts of those who behold you. Or…did you conjure this mask in order to conceal your true sentiments toward the one you call 'Brother'?"

"I will not have you speak to me with such lasciviousness in your words! I am still a Prince of Asgard!"

The shadow seized his prey again, letting long, black tendrils caress that handsome face and slide over every inch of that luscious body. "I will take great pleasure in your utter degradation, little god!"

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a frightened voice exclaimed, "No! I won't let you touch him!"

As the confused young god looked on, the shadow's eyes turned blue and he thought he saw wisps of long, golden hair flying from its misshapen head.

"Run! RUN!"

Then, the shadow's eyes reverted back to fiery red. "I think not!"

Panicking, the god let lose a mage bolt. Such was the concussive power of the bolt's impact that it sent both god and shadow flying in opposite directions.

Like a fiery comet, the god felt himself plummeting back toward Earth. Using what raw power he could muster, he tried to check his fall before his body crashed on hard ground. It worked. His descent slowed, and he landed on a pile of garbage in a dark alley.

For several minutes, he just lay there, naked and dazed.

"Oh my God!" a frantic voice suddenly said above him. "Are you hurt?"

Through blurry eyes, he could make out a man's concerned face. And…what was that on his chin? He tried to sit up, only to flop back weakly.

"Just hang on! I'm going to call an ambulance!"

Hearing the word 'ambulance', the god dredged up what little strength he had left to grab the stranger's hand. "Please! No ambulance! Shelter…that's all I need." Although it was beneath him to do so, he said earnestly, "I'm begging you!"

The man was not agreeable to this. Nevertheless, he nodded in acquiescence. "Let's get you inside my apartment."

The god tried to get up again, but the man waved him back down. Despite his slighter frame, the man picked him up easily in his arms, and carried him up the whitewashed steps and into his apartment.

A half hour later, he was sitting on a couch, his still trembling frame now clothed in a green shirt which was a bit tight at the shoulders and a pair of new but comfortable boxers. The man had been kind and patient enough to wash his body of filth, but he could not help flinching every time fingertips touched his bare skin.

As he curled up on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands, the man – who had been puttering around in the kitchen – presented him with an unfamiliar, but truly appetizing looking dish and a plastic squeeze bottle containing mayonnaise.

"What is this?" he asked curiously.

"Just some fried rice I whipped up. Go ahead. Eat up. It'll taste a lot better if you add some mayo."

Gingerly, the god picked up the plate and placed it on his lap. He took a spoonful and then squeezed a small drop of mayo on top, before putting it inside his mouth.

"It's delicious!" he told his expectant host truthfully. Never had he tasted anything so exquisite before. As hunger took over with a vengeance, he squeezed more mayonnaise on top of his fried rice and devoured it to the last grain with gusto.

The man waited patiently for him to finish with that kind, thoughtful smile on his face. When he was done, his host moved to take his plate and spoon, but he shook his head and, instead, carried it over to the kitchen sink to wash it himself.

"You should let me do that," the man said gently behind him.

"No, I'm being an imposition to you," the young god countered. "It's the least I could do."

The man breathed out heavily, visibly discomfited about something. "I don't mean to pry, but I just want to be sure that you're…Were you raped?"

The plate and spoon fell with a clatter at the bottom of the sink.

The god raised his arms to wrap them around his shaking form. "No. But he had clearly voiced his intention to do so."

The man shook his head. "Then we must call the police. If someone's after you…"

"No! The police can't do anything against him! No one can! I've had enough of people getting hurt and dying because of me! I'm not even supposed to be here! I should leave right now!"

Sighing, the man led him back to the couch, and they sat down together. "Listen. I don't know what's going on, but I can see that you're in grave danger. It would be very stupid and heartless of me to let you leave, knowing that there's a maniac out there who's after you."

"I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"I don't think so. Just looking at you, I can tell that you're scared shitless. You asked for shelter. But I would like to offer you more than that – sanctuary. I may not look capable, but I used to be a Hero. My…lover, who is currently on a business trip, still takes Hero jobs on occasion. Plus, I mustn't forget our friends. Rest assured that we can and will protect you."

The god's eyes widened. He was in the home of a superhero, which was much worse. However, he knew he had no other choice than to accept the man's offer of sanctuary. "I…I will gladly accept your offer, but please don't tell your lover and your friends about me. If word gets around that I'm… Please! I just want to be left alone!"

He let out a surprised gasp as he was pulled into a comforting hug. "I won't tell anyone. I promise. But I still need to explain to them who you are and why you are living with me. I could say that you're a friend who's in dire straits and that I decided to take you in, give you a brand new start in life, so to speak."

"Thank you, thank you very much," the god said in relief, wiping away the tears that were filling his eyes with the back of his hand. "But, I just can't be a freeloader. Maybe you have something for me to do."

"Actually…you might be able to help me out," the man brightened up. "I'm opening this café in the next few days. It's nothing fancy. I just want it to be a nice, cozy place for people to relax with their friends. I need someone who can bake pastries or serve food to the customers."

"I can do both! I promise I won't let you down!" It was then that his green eyes again focused on the curiosity on the man's face. "You have a funny-looking beard."

The man laughed at that, gesturing to his chin. "Oh, this? My daughter didn't like me with a beard when she was still a baby. That is until I decided to shave it in the shape of cats." He struck a pose and gave the god a broad, toothy grin. "You like my kitty beard, huh?"

The god chuckled at that vain pose. In truth, he found that that ridiculous beard truly suited the cheerful, generous man before him.

A hand was then extended to him. "I'm Kotetsu T. Kaburagi. What's your name?"

"My name is Lo…" The god stopped himself at once before he could reveal his true name. He didn't want to lose this newfound friend to the innumerable sins of his past. Shaking Kotetsu's hand, he introduced himself with a warm smile, "My name is Locke Serrure."

"Hurry up!" the little girl urged her uncle who was huffing and puffing behind her halfway down the hill. "I think we're near the place where the meteor crashed."

"You go ahead, but don't get too close to it," her uncle said breathlessly. "I'll catch up with you."

The girl rolled her eyes upward, wondering why the two men in her life – one of them being her own father – were so unreliable. She pushed her way through the bushes, wincing as branches scratched her arms. When she emerged from the foliage, she gasped at the sight of the huge crater before her, much more the pale naked man lying curled up in its center.

"Uncle! There's someone here! He looks hurt!" she called out. Ignoring her uncle's cry to wait, she ran down the crater's sloped walls and hurried to the man's side.

"Mister? Hey, Mister! Are you okay?" Carefully, she lifted the man's head and cradled it on her lap. Despite the stubble on his face and the paunch on his belly, he was still an attractive man, his long blond hair flowing over her thighs.

At her urgent queries, the man's eyelids fluttered open to reveal bright blue eyes. Seeing that he was in the arms of a child, he started to pull away, but the girl held him firmly.

"Don't move!" she said sternly. "You'll only injure yourself further."

"I thought I told you to wait for me! You never listen to what your elders tell you!" The girl's uncle scolded her. Turning to the stranger, he asked, "Are you alright, man?"

"I…think so. Got the wind knocked out of me, I guess."

"Yeah!" the girl's uncle remarked in agreement, surveying the damage caused by the meteor. "A meteor crash can do that to you." He looked at the man. "I've never seen you around these parts before."

"I…uh…was just passing through and…"

"Well, you're in no condition to go traveling around," the little girl concluded. "Uncle, why don't we take him in? He looks like he could use our help."

Her uncle was about to tell her something about being wary of strangers, but there was only seriousness on the girl's face. He could only groan in surrender. The girl inherited her stubbornness from her father, who was also his younger brother.

Together, they helped the man to his feet. The girl's uncle removed his jacket and draped it over the man's trembling form.

"Thank you," he said, "for helping me. I promise I'll pay you back somehow."

"Oh, don't worry about that! Just think about getting better first," the girl said reassuringly. "My name is Kaede Kaburagi, by the way, and this is my Uncle Muramasa."

The man smiled shyly at the child and her uncle. "I'm Robert Reynolds, but you can just call me Bob. It's a pleasure to meet you both."

In an undisclosed location, a super computer in the form of a silver eyeball with wires protruding behind it like optic nerves was hard at work on a complex circuit board. Feeling a familiar presence, it dropped what it was doing and floated toward the glass window. Only someone who personally knew this artificial intelligence would be able to tell just how happy and eager it was at what it had sensed.

"You have finally returned, Master!" the computer declared with absolute joy. "Welcome back!"

TO BE CONTINUED…