Chapter 12!
And after the day I've had, you guys better appreciate it! I mean, I thought I wasn't going to be able to post this for another week! But at any rate, here it is, not only early, but my LONGEST chapter yet! Be prepared to spend a long, long time glued to your computer XD
By the way, if anyone didn't catch it, Voran is the SAME OLD MAN from Chapter 9… You remember? The dirty old man who was sitting in the cabin on the train? Hah, I wonder if that enlightened anyone…
Disclaimer: I hold no ownership over Beyblade. If I did, Kai would be more prominent than his 'show up every 5 episodes for 2 minutes to feed the cats' showtimes... As it is, I do not, and Daichi gets all the air time. (Zeo too, for that matter, got a lot of air time...). Additionally, the line 'putting on an old shoe' is a Kai-quote from one of the Beyblade episodes, so I don't own that either.
WARNING: PG-13 for this chapter as well: violence, language… Kai was a vulgar little troublemaker, wasn't he :P
Enjoy.
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Sooryavansham: The Dynasty of the Sun
Sholay
After the world championships in Russia, Kai just wanted to vanish. Then one day, inevitably, Kai is drawn back and ensnared in an intricate web of magic and legends; wrought by forsaken history and controlled by none other than Voltaire.
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"Winning doesn't satisfy us -- we need to do it again, and again. The taste of success seems merely to whet the appetite for more. When we lose, the compulsion to seek future success is overpowering; the need to get out on the course the following weekend is irresistible. We cannot quit when we are ahead, after we've won, and we certainly cannot quit when we're behind, after we've lost. We are addicted."
—Stuart Walker
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Chapter 12: Black Morning
"Hn. 1126, Neglinnaya Street: Moskva Beyblade Pavilion. This is it then." I spare the large gold-capped building a perfunctory glance; while its size may be unusual, I am not overly impressed by the rather common communist red-stone and cubic shape denotative of old constructivist architecture. Though often mistaken by tourists as the old residence of the Tsar, the building does not in fact have much in common with the ill-fated, neoclassical Alexander Palace of the Tsar's Village. Lying a mere fifteen miles south of Petrograd it was once not only the favorite retreat of the last acting Tsar Nicholas II, but one of the final places he and his family would ever see after they were placed under house arrest and subsequently put to death in the basement of the Ipatiev House in Yekterinburg.
Post-soviet Russia—after the rise of the Provisional Government following the Tsar's abdication as well as Bolshevik coup d'état and the slow return to democracy after Stalin's sudden death—has improved by leaps and bounds since the dark decades before. Moskva has been the eternal spearhead during this time; one easily noticeable example would be that without restrictions on height or materials, a new freedom of expression was open to the long oppressed people. And though the love for high, sloping ceilings and detail still prevails, it is clear that modernized western buildings, skyscrapers, will soon become the new eye of Russia.
Yet, even with her claws now firmly dug into democracy, the ground itself has become unsteady as the expected leap into a stable independent sovereignty rivaling the American economy has not occurred in Russia. Many regions remain poor—remain floundering between autocracy and socialism: the only governmental choices that actually seem to advance the state, democracy coming in a poor third with its stagnant economic growth and substandard Human Development Index recordings. Democracy proved itself as a luxury for the rich; a stable, unambitious format which gains you nothing and leaves you with nothing.
But that is neither here nor there. Russia needs to grow, and this building, with its somber anatomy, bent and distorted to fit a corrupted idealist's mind is too reminiscent of the past and failure.
'Perhaps more reminiscent to you, of corrupted idealists who delight in debauchery and enslavement...'
Mood decidedly more irritable, I slam the lid down on that train of thought and instead trace my eyes back down to the letter in my hands. The first time I had read the letter, something about it had irked me; too lost in other problems though, I had ignored the feeling. Now it is back in full force: If they had known all along where I was staying, why was I not found by the BBA or Biovolt for that matter? Unless they regarded me so worthless it was more cost efficient to leave me as I was...?
I turn the letter over, searching for some clue. The address is the common one: where everyone on the street picks up their mail; it had been pure luck that I had managed to snatch the letter out of the pile before anyone had noticed. But really, had that been luck or something else?
After the disastrous events of last year, why would the governors approve of situating another event in Russia so soon?
Unless... there's more to it... I read the letter again:
Dear participant,
While it has been a year since our last correspondence, it is within our wishes to find you in good health. As an honored member of a former internationally credited Beyblading team, you are cordially invited to attend a reception detailing the events that we at the International Beyblade Association hope to introduce in the coming year.
Following the events of the previous year, it has been the decision of-...
'Dear participant' I ponder, not 'Dear Mr. Hiwatari'. My eyes narrow in thought. Perhaps it is a long shot, but maybe it is possible that they really did not know where I was when they made this. The lack of disambiguation in the title would prevent drawing unwanted attention to the recipient, namely me, but how then did a letter find its way here? Izhevsk is quite a long way from Moskva.
'Unless they know I'm not in Moskva.' This is a possibility. 'If they've searched Moskva and have tabs on all movements across the border they would know I have not left the country.' Suddenly the pieces are starting to fit, the hand clenched on the letter lowers as I raise my head, 'and with the infamy of the Hiwatari name and the recognized ignominy of the marks on my face... for me to remain unfound... would narrow the searchlight significantly. They would have realized that I am living either alone, or with immigrants, preferably of the illegal stature.'
In the back of my mind, the realization alarms me. I could be putting the Huo's in trouble by simply attending this meeting. Already though, my thoughts are easing the knot of worry with soothing fingers of logic.
'No, again, if they were sure where I was they would have come to collect me.' At least, I think they would have... The rising roar of a gathering crowd catches my attention and suspicion rises as I glance around to the front of the Pavilion where a rather large group of people has congregated. From the lack of posters and advertisements I had gathered that the beyblading meeting was relatively unpublicized.
'Then what are all these people doing here?'
Stepping closer, and making sure that my hood is securely covering my face, I notice an overzealous person jumping up and down...
...And waving a very familiar card.
I look down once more at the invitation in my hand, an exact copy of the card that person—and many more in the crowd, I see now—is waving about. The last piece of the puzzle falls into place.
'So, they sent invitations all around to likely suspects... but was it just an extreme coincidence that I received one or... How many of these did they send?' The ramifications and necessary clean up for an error this large, even intentional, as this one appears to be, are huge.
I finger the letter, 'why would they go through such trouble?' The answers come immediately: For my team it would be guilt; guilt that they had forgotten about me and a need to rectify the situation for their own peace of mind. For Mr. Dickenson it would be the simple truth of saving his job, after all, loosing an international representative does not exactly help shine one's record. As for Gran-Voltaire... it doesn't take much to see that he wants to save himself from legal crucification, after all, I am still a minor, and technically still in his custody...
'Plus, he never was one to waive the chance to rub my failures in my face...'
'Unless he never planned on my staying lost.' Now there is a disturbing thought, a quickly suppressed shiver attempts to slide down my spine. 'Maybe he just threw me out for kicks, planning to have me come crawling back, begging to be taken in. Then in a profound act of benefaction he would offer me shelter, while strapping my throat in a dog's collar. But when I did not return… a more direct approach had to be taken.'
It made sense, in a morbid way. During those first horrible months, of which I had spent a great deal hiding and running from the Abbey guards, I had thought that they pursued me for mere sport; Boris would surely have much enjoyed having my head delivered to him on a silver platter.
But what if their object had been—not search and destroy, as I had once thought—but search and retrieve?
With head bowed, none of my interest is on the road which I'm walking, and it is of no real surprise that I am completely taken unaware as someone violently collides with my shoulder, spinning me sideways. The man whirls and opens his mouth to yell, most probably some vulgar insult—
—but the words die in his throat and instead of angry words, a fearful gasp escapes his throat as my hood falls. I reach to raise it again but the damage has been done.
"Y-You!" The man—really quite unremarkable, with a strained face and bloodshot eyes and a rather rough accent to his Russian—stutters. "Y-You're that D-Demon! That Blue of the A-that place, the one th-th-at es-escaped. You're H-Hiwatari's kid!…AH! Get away from me, you… you freak, you're nothing but a damn MURDERER!" He screams the word at me, all the while backing away, until finally he turns and runs.
The reaction is not unexpected, but the emotions it draws are. For a moment I am frozen, images flickering across my mind:
...the Abbey, Black Dranzer, the explosion...
..Screaming, falling,
chaos…death…
My eyes snap back into focus and I see people skirting me widely, they gaze at my face, my eyes, then turn away with fear and disgust. They want to hurt me, kill me, but are too afraid of the weight my name carries.
Hood completely forgotten I turn on my heel and flee to the first safe point I can find: a narrow secluded alley. Even as the security of shadow envelops me the world tilts and I stumble into a wall. My hands fly up to clutch at my head...the pain is terrible...and my knees buckle.
The world fades away.
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No... the darkness... it's too much,... too strong, evil... get away. Get away! I don't want this power. GET AWAY!
"AH!"
I fall backwards to the floor, hitting my head hard and lay there, splayed across stone.
I groan. What happened? I'm supposed to be strong! I control power, not the other way around, how could a mere bitbeast overcome me? Black Dranzer is MINE, MY power, a PART of Dranzer.
The last tendrils of darkness recede from my mind and for what feels like the first time in ages, I'm able to breathe and think freely. That thing, that infestation that had invaded my body, ripping at my mind and suffocating my heart, is gone. Relief floods me. The first thing that I become aware of is the thick, dusty smell of smoke...
'SMOKE?!'
'Oh no!' I jerk up to rest on my elbows, then twist first one way then the other, my eyes search the room frantically. Dark clouds drift through the lab, obscuring my vision, but the stench of burning chemicals and the distant crackling is unmistakable. The Abbey is on fire! How did this happen? Did I do this? In the corner of the room I notice a small fire burning merrily, winking, mocking me, from the destroyed console.
The flames are pure ebony.
'No-no-no-no-NO! Dammit…dammit, SHIT!'
Cold fear envelops me 'Master Boris is going to KILL me!' But then another thought occurs to me and real panic settles in.
Dranzer! I forgot her in my cell!
I gasp—then cough as smoke instead of air scorches my throat—and scramble to my feet. In the moment it takes to overcome my dizziness I quickly plan the fastest way to get to Dranzer, then dash out the open door. Immediately, the shriek of the fire alarms assaults me and I nearly fly face first into a wall of black fire. Skidding to a stop, I practically fall to my hands as I backpedal wildly, scampering away from the fire like a crab, the new route to Dranzer already mapped out.
I sprint back into the lab and doge around tables to get across the room. Something in a cupboard explodes as I'm passing and a cry is torn from me as I duck and cover my head with my arms. Pieces of wood fly, some missing by mere inches, some not. I don't dare stop and keep running as plumes of smoke rise from the leaking cupboard, the air gaining the acrid reek and taste of burnt chemicals.
Spotting my way out, I skid to a stop in front of an immense metal door and quickly punch in the password.
Access...Denied
"What?" The word is a whisper of denial. I type in the password again.
Access...Denied
"NO! Damn bloody stupid machine!" I yell a few... stronger words and proceed to nearly crack my toes on the console before realizing that access must be blocked during crises.
"Idiot." I mutter to myself. Now with another road blocked, my options are running thin. The only way to go up now is... I glance over to the side...
'The dumbwaiter'
Not caring about the trouble I could get into for this (like I'm not freakin' dead already), I viciously tear open the small wooden door and proceed to destroy the weak ceiling of the small shelf-elevator. I don't have the time to ride the slow, rusty elevator so instead I grab the rope, tie the loose end securely on a ring in the ground (the double constrictor knot—loop twice around and over… then around and under…and under the first turn, pull, check) mutter a prayer to whomever is listening, and haul myself upwards hoping to God that the rope will hold.
It does.
One hand, then the next, then the other and again... as I slowly, painfully drag my body upwards by my hands alone I remember exactly why I have always hated rope climbing. The walls are uncomfortably close and I keep scraping my back against them. I think for a moment about using them to brace myself, but that would take to long.
'Hurry, you need to get to Dranzer NOW.'
I nod absently at the voice in my head and try to pull faster, but my hands are burning, my arms are trembling and I think I'm slowing down...
Another door passes and I note with relief that the next one is my stop, almost there, just one hand, pull, then the other, then pull and again...
And then I'm grasping air as the rope goes lank between my hands.
I think I screamed, but in that split second moment all I could do was stare dumbly at the rope, mind utterly, terrifyingly blank.
Then gravity takes over and I'm falling. The scream rips out from my throat for real this time and I claw at the air frantically, reaching for something—anything—that will slow my descent.
My back slams against the stone wall and immediately, without coherent thought, my arms and legs snap out. My toes strain within their shoes to find a hold and my palms are torn open on the uneven stone. For one sickening moment I think I won't be able to hold on. As I slide downward, death for the first time becomes real. Frighteningly little crosses my mind as the only real thought I have is agonizing despair that I could not reach Dranzer.
Then my feet catch and my hands, now bleeding freely, hold. I bend my arms at the elbow and lean my back against the wall. No sooner have I moved back than a searing pain flashes across my nose and cheek. Looking down I see the black flames, still licking away merrily at the frayed end of the rope, twinkling at me like dark stars in the abyss of the shaft and they fall down out of sight.
I lick my dry lips, then slowly begin my climb upwards once more. I notice—vaguely, as I'm seeing everything through stained glass in the back of my head now— that my arms aren't trembling anymore, and I didn't really feel tired, I can't even feel the stone beneath my hands. The thought doesn't really seem to mean anything to me though.
I see wood in front of me at some point and with complete clear-mindedness, manage to shift around and distribute my weight accordingly in order to reach out, open the door and tumble through it headfirst into a somersault.
I rise to my feet and glance back at the shaft, a small dark hole cut into the wall, it really looks quite innocent. I realize I'm feeling a sudden urge to giggle but quickly stop myself.
'I wonder what Tala will think when I tell him about this,' is my first thought. 'He probably won't believe me, or he'll think I'm crazy.'
I realize that I'm giggling anyway and when I try to stop, it only gets worse. I reach out to lean on a table and a sharp pain causes me to hiss between my laughter. I raise my hand to my face and stare at the jagged cuts that have torn my palm to shreds. Blood steadily flows downwards, over my wrist.
"Hee hee, and they said you can't climb" Somehow the hilarity is crippling now. "Look at you now, scampering up the rocks like a bloody monkey with a death wish!" I'm laughing so hard now tears are running down my face and it's only when my breath runs out completely and I'm left heaving on my knees that I begin to think clearly again.
"I need... to get... to...Dranzer." The last word is a sigh between my panting and the words repeat themselves in my mind.
'I need to get to Dranzer,
I need to get to Dranzer,
I need—'
A crash nearby snatches my attention and I haul myself to my feet. The urgency of the situation becomes clear again.
"Ok," I take a deep breath and nod with satisfaction when it doesn't hitch. "I need to get to Dranzer. So from here..." I walk quickly to the door, open, luckily, and glance out into the hall. No one is around. Good. I know exactly where to go; but before I sprint out the door I spare one last, dark look at the shaft.
"I really do hate rope climbing."
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Again, I'm running down a narrow, dark hall, all around me I can see the destruction caused by the fire and many times I have to stumble and backtrack in order to avoid the flames. If anything the fire is even stronger up here.
'That doesn't make sense; I started the fire down below.' Unless the fire had somehow spread, but then why hasn't anyone put it out?
'Come to think of it... where IS everyone?' The thought sticks in my mind. Yes, I should have run into someone by now, a screaming student or at the very least a fireman! Where is everyone...?
'Unless they can't stop the fire...' My eyes widen with the realization, it wasn't all that unbelievable: the pure fury and rage I had felt from Black Dranzer could have fueled a thousand fires. But that meant no one would stop the fire, it would burn until...
'The fires of Black Dranzer are insatiable.' The sibilant croon that voices that thought sounds nothing like my own voice. Determination steels me and I run faster.
'I have to hurry.'
Finally I reach the student quarters and I slid to a halt at the threshold, quickly mapping out the room. Astonishingly, the fire has left the room more or less untouched, yet the smoke here is the thickest. The single lightbulb in the center of the room swings erratically above me, flickering wildly before finally dying. I pay no heed to it, and without wasting a thought, plunge myself into the smoky quarters.
The darkness is suffocating, but I'm unhesitant as I run through the room, swerving around corners and hurdling invisible obstacles that I've navigated for years. The smoke grows heavier with each step I take and with mounting concern I round the final turn.
"No!" My throat closes with fear; the smoke is coming from my room! 'DRANZER!'
I throw myself at the door and grab the metal handle to throw open the door—
—And immediately recoil as unbearable pain scorches my hand.
A sound somewhere between a pained hiss and whine of terror escapes from my clenched teeth as I cradle my hand close. 'It BURNED me!' The realization is shattering. 'That's not possible! Nothing burns me!'
'The fires of Black Dranzer are insatiable.' The sibilant whisper, low and mellifluous, echoes in my head once more. 'Weakling, you will never conquer the flame.'
A spark of my own ignites my rage and disregarding the burn, I reach out again and this time ignore the pain as I tear the door open.
A wall of flame, blacker than ebony and glittering merrily like precious jewels greets me with twinkling mockery. A cry of dismay leaves my open mouth. "No! DRANZER!" She's on my bed, the flames are blocking me, but I have to get to my bed...
'I have to get to my bed!'
I grit my teeth and silently recall my training. 'I am impervious to flame. Fire is my element. I control fire, it does not control me!'
I reach out experimentally at the black flames but immediately pull back with a hiss. 'No good. Try again' Before I can manage to concentrate again though, that sibilant voice, mesmerizing in a chillingly familiar way, invades my thoughts once more.
'The fires of Black Dranzer are insatiable' comes the predictable croon. 'Foolish mortal, you cannot conquer the flame!'
'I can.' My mind and will are set. 'And I will.' This time I take a full two steps forward. The flames touch my face and body briefly. I feel nothing. Oddly, I hear a hiss of angry disbelief.
'You!' The silky voice speaks again, but this time it is touched with shock. 'You dare to challenge the flame!'
"Yes I," I answer with a hiss of my own. "Let me through. I command you—"
'Command!' Comes an angry shriek; no longer is the voice so mellifluous. 'No one commands the flame!'
"I do." I answer steadily. "And I command you to let me pass to Dranzer."
The voice seems to give a thoughtful silence. 'Why?' Comes the eventual question.
"She is dear to me." I answer truthfully.
'And I am not?'
I freeze at the unexpected question, "Who—"
'I can be dear to you too, mortal.' Suddenly the sibilant croon is back and the black fire reaches out to caress my cheek softly. I feel a powerful thrill run through me. Desire…completeness… transcendence…Unaware of my actions, I lean closer. 'I can give you all that you desire: Power... Freedom... Immortality.'
With a jerk, I break free of the dark tentacles around my mind. I shudder, not at the touch, but at the words. Power is a deep desire of mine, yes, and the yearning for freedom runs even deeper. But immortality... that was a dream of his, not mine. I will not let myself fall into that trap. But the hollowness left in the wake of the darkness is nearly overwhelming and I find myself craving…needing… more…
'No'
"I came for Dranzer." I say unflinchingly. "And you will give me Dranzer!" With a determined yell I throw myself into the flames and for a moment I wonder if I have been consumed. Then I feel the flames recede and I fall to the ground on the other side of the wall. A yell of fury rises up in my mind and the flames tongue the air convulsively, no longer twinkling. I waste no time in grabbing Dranzer and the moment my hand rests on her a golden glow erupts from her, soothing me. A wail of furious despair—that I recognize as the once sibilant voice—rises in my mind but fades slowly as Dranzer's warmth overcomes it.
I hug the chip close to my body, wishing for a moment that she would emerge, and then wondering if I even deserve to see her anymore.
"I'm sorry." I choke out. "So sorry." I abandoned her for that monster, Black Dranzer, I don't deserve her. "Please forgive me." 'Don't leave me.' Is my silent plea
Unbelievably, a soft lilt rises in the darkness and holy phoenix song, enthralling and healing, graces the air for a few precious moments.
'She forgives me' I stare in disbelief. Then an uncontrollable smile breaks out on my face. "You forgive me! Thank you, thank you, thank you." I almost leap into the air, but remember with a start where we are.
"Come on," I whisper to her. "I'm getting us out of here."
A path through the black flames has opened and quickly I run though it, clutching Dranzer like a lifeline. But just as I'm about to cross the threshold a mad shriek rips through my head so deafening that a cry of my own joins it as my hand fly up to clutch at my ears.
'You will not leave me!' The sibilant voice is shrill and painful. 'You belong to me! You are mine, and I will own you!'
I didn't see it coming. One moment I'm clutching my head trying to dispel the horrid voice while attempting to stumble out the door, and in the next something has swept my feet out from underneath me and with a cry I fall forward. My hands reach out to catch myself on something, anything.
Something flicks across my vision and in an instant, the abused hand holding Dranzer is struck so ferociously she flies from my grasp and across the room.
"DRANZER!" My desperate scream cuts through the roar of the flames.
'COME TO ME!'
"NO!"
'COME!'
Something groans ominously above my head and, risking the chance, I glance up around my arms to the ceiling just in time to see the rafters give and the sky fall. With agility that shocked me later, I yield to instinct: tucking my head between my arms and rolling smoothly over the threshold and into the hall. Behind me, the room crumbles around the shrieking flames and stone, dust and wood explode outwards. My head is spared, but the rest of my body is laid bare as both wood and stone cut into it. Luckily I had managed to gain at least some shelter behind a large stone, shielding my vitals from the worst of the blast. The screaming from the voice in my head dulls and dies away. For a moment I lay there, breathing...
"Dranzer!" Awareness snaps in and I remember the peril my friend is in. I rise to my knees, carefully avoiding the use of my hands, and glance around wildly.
A small glow catches my attention and then I see her.
"Dranzer..." I whisper and move to run to her.
But a sharp warning halts me in my path, and slowly my eyes rake up to the ceiling. Black flames lick at the rafters threateningly; the entire ceiling could collapse any moment. I had to get to Dranzer, but I had to be quick and careful. Just as I ready myself to move, a soft sound freezes me in my tracks.
"Help...please someone, help me..." the voice is so familiar, and with shock, my eyes swivel to the side.
"Help me..." Vasili Arya's eyes are glazed with pain, but still focus with disturbing firmness on me. I stumble forward and that is when I notice the beam, awash with glistening flames resting on the floor.
With him under it.
Vasili wheezes for air and even as far away as I am I can tell he's gritting his teeth against the dual pain of the crushing beam and the searing fire. "Please, move this beam...Hootshi." My eyes narrow at that. Hootshi, literally meaning 'worst' is a wicked bastardization of the title I had attained: Hoodojneek, 'artist' is what I am known by now. It is my title, it is what I am introduced by and what commands respect from the governors. 'Hootshi' is what my fellow students call me behind Boris' back. A pathetic attempt at debasement.
And not one I appreciate now; it was not for his intellect that the bastard was acclaimed.
Almost as though hearing my indecision, the ceiling creaks above Dranzer and almost simultaneously Arya lets out a howl of pain, unable to hold it in as the fire slowly melts him alive. My eyes widen and flick back and forth between Dranzer and the boy writhing on the floor.
'He'll die if I leave him!' My brain frantically informs me, I look back.
'So will she.'
Again the ceiling groans, louder this time and a heavy piece of wood totters dangerously above Dranzer. It is enough to get my feet moving. I don't even think about my decision as I race over to my Phoenix, hand encircling her protectively just as the beam falls. I don't react fast enough and the heavy wood, passing centimeters from my nose, pins my arm to the ground.
A scream of pure agony tears out of my throat as I feel something break, wood and flame crushing bone, incinerating skin.
With unknown strength I yank my arm as hard as I can and somehow manage to free it. The limb dangles uselessly and I quickly take Dranzer into my other hand and stow her safely in my pocket. Another cry penetrates my hearing and suddenly I remember Arya.
But no more than a step is taken in his direction before a deep rumbling comes from above me.
Instinct takes over once more and I throw my good arm over my head and bolt. I don't get far before I trip over something hard and topple unceremoniously onto the stairs, yelping as the slightest jarring sends waves of pain through my arm.
A loud crash interrupts me and my head jerks up as dust and flame rise from where I had just been.
The ceiling had finally fallen.
For a moment everything is quiet, even the flames seem to temporarily cede. I realize then that the quiet is too profound.
"Arya?" I whisper, a moment passes and I gather up the courage to ask again, this time louder.
"Arya…Vasili!"
No answer.
I stare blankly ahead, nothing and everything going through my mind all at once. No emotions surface. I feel nothing and soon my mind is blank as well. I lick my lips and blink. My eyes are dry.
Slowly I turn and run up the stairs more focused than ever to leave this hell behind.
9 year olds do not cry.
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I'm on my knees gasping madly. If not for the dumpster and the wall, between which I had managed to brace myself, I would be flat on the ground. As my breathing slowly regulates …like a fog lifting from my eyes… I become aware of the world around me: the first being the sensation of pain in my hands.
Glancing down, I half expect to see marred, bleeding flesh, but am mildly surprised when I notice that I've simply curled my fingers so tightly around the stone and pebbles on the ground that they are digging uncomfortably into my skin. Gingerly, I detach them and gradually uncurl my fists, idly brushing off whatever is still sticking to my palms. The scarring has faded, I note with muted curiosity, it's there, but it's faded... that means it actually happened... This information really doesn't seem to be as big of a deal as it should be... that's odd.
Next, my ears slowly tune in and I become aware of a soft sound near my shoulder. I look down and see a feathered head burrowing into my arm.
"Dranzer...?" I feel a little confused, as though something was wrong. "You're not hurt are you?"
She gives a soft coo, then raises her head to look me straight in the eye.
Suddenly the fog in my head is gone and my mind is clear. I snap my head up as an icy hand seems to clench around my heart. I don't remember where I am, I glance around quickly and move to stand but Dranzer's insistent chirps stay my movement. Slowly, everything comes back: the world championships…Grandfather…the Huo's…the reunion…
The energy drains from my limbs and I fall back against the wall, throwing my head back so it rests on the concrete as well. My side is against the dumpster, effectively concealing me from the casual passerby. I curl one leg up to my chest and wrap an arm around it, the other leg stays stretched out and Dranzer settles there, half on my lap. My remaining hand, the left one, runs over her feathers idly.
"It's alright," I inform her gently. "I'm out of it now." I reinforce this with what I think is reassuring look, but from the noise Dranzer makes—I wasn't aware she could come so close to snorting—I gather I didn't do a very good job of it.
"I don't understand though," I muse quietly, looking off to the side with shuttered eyes. "Is it that they get stronger every time I have one, or was this one special?" I reach back to touch the back of my neck and take note of the moisture there. "I'm sweating in the middle of a snowfall."
Indeed, even though my coat is covered in a small layer of white powder, I'm flushed and still breathing somewhat abnormally. A little time passes during which I regain complete control of myself, then I raise a hand to rake it through my hair, repressing a sigh as I look downwards.
"I do not think I want my memory back if all I have to remember is... pain and murder." I am about to substitute another word for 'pain' but I stop myself.
...And stop myself from thinking it too.
Dranzer lets out a deep, throaty sound and I reach back up to continue stroking her.
"Why are you still here?" I ask tactlessly, only noticing how that sounded once it passed my lips, but Dranzer, perhaps too used to my personality, merely cocks her head and waits for me to continue. "What I mean is..." I pause and look away; I cannot manage to look at her while asking. "Why are you still with me? You know I was disloyal, you know I am a murderer, why would you want a partner like that? You have amazing potential, why are you even bothering—"
Dranzer cuts me off at that moment. She lets out an angry squawk and raises herself to her full height, flapping her wings a few times. As she effectively gains my attention I turn my head watch her, only to see her rise upwards then lash out quickly with her beak.
"Ow" I say sharply as she raps me, not-so-affectionately, on the head. I duck as she aims again. "Hey, what was that for?" She halts in the air then, and if birds could huff with exasperation she would have just achieved it as she puffs out her chest in a grand show of gleaming golden down feathers, lands and staunchly turns her back on me, folding her wings and ruffling long tail-feathers with much pageantry.
Her anger irritates me in its irrationality. Why get angry over a simple question when she didn't even respond to my earlier tactlessness? I lower my arms slowly then study Dranzer closely, trying to glimpse something of her emotions through our link. Unfortunately, she is blocking me quite effectively.
"I am not feeling sorry for myself." I say flatly, but still wary of any negative responses. She does not respond and I give the entire thing up as a lost cause.
"Anyway," I continue in an easier tone, looking away form the phoenix, "I am not leaving yet. I refuse to let a few silly nightmares cloud my judgment." Indeed, even as I speak, the strange vision has faded to the back of my mind, making it easier to ignore. "Moreover, I have unfinished business with them. I have to be sure that Boris and Voltaire will leave me in peace." Dranzer's gold eyes flash back at me and we exchange a small battle of wills.
"Very well," I concede with good humor. "I admit that seeing Tala again is a thought that crossed my mind as a rather intriguing side effect." I glance sideways at Dranzer, "and besides, the invitation requests the presence of the respective team's managers." I give a small smirk. "The poor 'Breakers would be terribly alienated without theirs."
Leaning around the dumpster, I search out the clock I remember seeing earlier within an arch near the top of the Pavilion. 08:00. I note with satisfaction. That is good, the reunion beings at half past eight and I had already decided to arrive late. There had really only been two choices, either reveal my continuing existence earlier than necessary, submitting myself to their group advantage, or I cause a dramatic entrance later by throwing open the door to a speechless crowd.
Neither option appealed to me but eventually I chose the latter: at least that way I can postpone the inevitable question mobbing until later. I want to arrive with the upper hand and that can much better be achieved if I arrive when they are least expecting it, opposed to presenting myself at their mercy.
I look back and note, unsurprised, that Dranzer has returned to her bit. It really is amazing that she even managed to stay out as long as she did, and I am thankful. I try to convey this to her as I gently rub my thumb over her chip, I even send over a little remorse for whatever I had done to make her so upset. A small, appeased croon echoes in my head.
'Not angry then,' I note, a tension easing from my shoulders. 'But still not completely forgiven.'
Shifting into a more comfortable position, I look around for a cleaner place to sit, but upon discovering that my current position was practically as good as it was going to get, short of standing, I remain where I am; honestly, just because I can maintain the position does not mean I would prefer to stand against the wall.
For a second I entertain the idea of pulling the black book out to sketch in, but desist in that train of thought; I do not really want to look at that thing yet. Without the luxury of outside stimulus I find myself lost within my thoughts.
The boy in the second memory was a great deal different than the one in the first. More reserved, less emotional and definitely more capable. I had changed much from the weak, lachrymose child I was as a seven year old… and yet, had become more submissive: referring to Boris as Master. What had happened?
And then there was my arm. I reach over and tug off the red protective guard. For many years I have covered my arms, not just to hide my unsavory habits, but to serve the dual purpose of hiding those...
Ugly strips of raised, patched scar tissue weave into and out of my arm, threading a grotesque, unfinished artwork into the flesh, as though worms waltzed beneath my skin. Though faded, the sick pale pink-white bump of the hypertrophic scars has not disappeared, leaving bald chunks across my wrist and forearm, stretching the skin into an uneven, tender cobweb, finishing at my elbow.
Mrs. Huo had nearly given herself an ulcer when she, through my own negligence, glimpsed my arm. At the time, I could not tell her truthfully how I had received the scars, and, in a gross abortion of imaginativeness, was unable to divine a convincing lie. But that fire... I had moved that scalding beam with my bare hands...
I pause, no not bare hands…
...bare hand.
My left hand.
"I was left handed." My voice is soft with incredulous comprehension. It explains much: Why I had always had so much trouble with the pen, why I had to resist switching hands at the dinner table under Grandfather's captious eye, why I was so weak at launching—when everything else about the sport had come as easy as putting on an old shoe...
With my left hand so torn and abused after the fire, I would not have been able to use it for months… which was why my arm had hurt so much when I had woken up in Japan after loosing my memory… Patience and attention would have let the arm heal. But Grandfather could not wait. No, he needed his perfect grandson, all packaged and delivered ready for use with a pretty bow to boot. My faults were an unwelcome inconvenience. But if that were true, is it possible that Voltaire had known I was left handed all along?
A small prickling in the back of my mind, like an itch it annoys me, and I realize that I've begun to think of those—hallucinations—as reality again. The itching quickly stops.
A sound alerts me to a presence, no many presences, at the mouth of the alley. In a flash I'm on my feet, making sure Dranzer is safely in her bit and in my pocket. I tug on the aberrant glove, only pausing to habitually run my thumb over the tattoo on the inside of my wrist, and then peer carefully around the dumpster.
I mentally curse my inattentiveness.
It's them.
The Bladebreakers.
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End Chapter Twelve…
… To Be Continued
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Yes, I am evil. I accept full responsibility (evil chuckle). 100+ reviews WOOT! (does a dance) You guys are amazing, even if the reactions for that interlude were mixed, I'm still happy I'm getting so many reviews! Thanks to all you wonderful people!
Cailany: YAY! Number 100! I jumped for joy when I saw this, hah, XD I can't believe I actually reached 100 reviews… I think I need to go lie down…XP Anyway, the guy in the last chapter, ah well, you've met him before! Do you remember, maybe, that creepy old man from Chapter… 9 I think? Hmmmm, so what does THAT mean? (evil chuckle). There was lotsa Kai in this chappie, so I hope you enjoyed!
Raykou-Kun: Heh, glad my interlude made you wonder. I hope you liked this chappie too!
d1bontemp: Heh heh, glad you thought Voran was creepy, it was my first attempt at something like that. At any rate, you really want Kai to meet up with the others, don't you? Ah, well, you're probably ready to kill me after reading the end of that chapter, so I'm gonna run away now! (Ducks head as sharp objects come flying) XD
lady KCassandra: Well, I guess we all have our own versions of bad weather; I mean, global warming makes the whole world warmer with the exception of where I live (you'd think there would FINALLY be good weather… but nooooo :P). Here, it gets colder sooner and longer. I guess it's true that we don't get many storms in Canada (that lightning storm you described sounded terrible!), and we don't really have water restrictions, but it's just so COLD here. Ah well, regardless of the weather, here's the next chappie, and it was very, very long, so I hope you enjoyed!
BloodRedViolet: Hiya! Thanks for reviewin'. Hmmm, now am I gonna make Kai and the others meet up soon? Well, (looks up) not in this chapter! (Evil laughter) Honestly, I'm wondering how long I'm gonna be able to stretch this before someone throws a spatula at me XD. But even still, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know the plot is slow moving, but I didn't want to skimp on details, and I DID warn you:D Now as for your other question, as far as I can see, romance will not be a central matter in any shape or form. As a girl, I'd feel weird writing Yaoi (although I know others authors do it), I don't know, it's just not really my style, I guess. As for a straight romance, well, I refuse to pair Kai up with an OC (I fear I would turn her into a Mary Sue) I also don't plan on making my OC's too significant. Finally, as for pairing Kai up with an existing character… well, I just don't think any of the girls on the show are good enough for Kai… So I guess that's your answer! No significant romance, though I will try to make small intermitting scenes to keep everyone happy (I'm backing myself into a corner by saying that, but I there it is. If you have a specific pairing you like, other than the obvious KaiTala, KaiRei or KaiHilary then you can tell me and I'll see if I can cause a few unwitting encounters XP).
phoenix-falling: Mwah ha ha! Yes, there is MORE to this story than just the reunion! You know, when I first started writing this fic I was… 12, I think? But then I left it for a really long time… that's why my writing will hopefully be getting progressively better as we move along. Oh and I love long reviews! And since this was a super long chapter ;) (hint, hint) And being super evil to Kai is my specialty, that, and it's just way too much fun XD!
wolf's lament: Yes, the interlude was a bit short, and a few of the chapters might be short as well. The main reason for that is basically that I really want to keep up the 'update every 2 or 3 weeks' rate I've been trying to hold. If I made all my chapters longer, you'd have to wait longer, so I guess it depends on what you want. Anyway, as you can see from this chapter, there will be occasional chapters that are longer than the others, this one, for example, just wrote itself XD Anyway, hope you enjoyed!
Miako6: Ahh well, ya win some and you lose some; I guess it's the hazard of being a fanfic author: sometimes what you write just doesn't make the readers happy XP. You're expecting too much from me :3 This story is going to be very long, so sidetracks and tangents will occasionally occur; I have a tendency to do that. Also, it was an interlude, and I posted it right before my second round of midterms, so it was bound to be short. In general, there will be short chapters that pop up every now and again, I have to do that if I'm to update every two/three weeks. If I made each chapter longer, you'd have to wait longer for them to come out… it really depends on what you prefer, I guess. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter better, it was all Kai. And also your school system sounds interesting, different from here but it's all relative :)
Libe: Ahhh, yeah, after this chappie you're probably ready to kill me for the cliffy, so I'll make this short XD. Thanks for reviewing and I hope you liked this more than the interlude!
FlamingIce94: Oh my goodness! You compared me to Edgar Allen Poe! O.O Wow, thanks! Really, though, I got a few 'disappointed' reviews for that interlude so I'm SO glad you liked it! I think it must have been the mood I was in, which sort of carried over into this chapter (I couldn't help it though! Torturing Kai is just too much fun! XD). Anyway, really, really happy you liked the interlude and I hope you enjoyed this chappie!
kavbj: Hullo! So you figured who Voran is? That's great, I was wondering if that last reference I had made was too long ago for anyone to remember XD. It was kinda important for people to realize that he was the same guy Kai saw in the train, which is why I made it clear at the beginning of this chapter… so, didja get it right? Ohh, Banned from your computer for a week? That's evil, I don't think I could survive without my computer for a day (I mean, a girl's gotta check her e-mail for reviews! XP). And I admit, I've never seen Kai trying to kill an author, but I'd rather he didn't start with me! (Which is becoming more and more unlikely as I keep going unfortunately :D Hopefully I'm giving him too much grief to worry about for him to bother going after this poor author!) Anyway, yeah, I'm not too sure if calling all the big cats 'kitty' is a good idea… Actually when you said that, I was reminded of this African Safari thing I did once when I went to… Ontario, I think. We got to stay in our car and drive through this road which lead into all the enclosed animal areas… The lions were so close we could have opened the window and touched them! It was scary as anything, especially since it was feeding time and seeing them rip viciously into pieces of flesh only meters away from you is bound to be a little unsettling XD.
Kyelor: Yay! You noticed the connection between Voran and the weird man on the train! I think a lot of people didn't figure this out (maybe I was expecting too much XD) which is why I made it clear at the beginning of the chapter. I was trying a different sort of style than before, and although it got mixed reviews, I still think it was one of my better chapters (other than this one, which I also hope you liked). By the way, it's a deal: I don't mind waiting until you send the 'Breakers into the past, as long as you don't mind waiting for my plotline to develop (and don't throw anything pointy at me after this chapter, which I have a sinking feeling someone will do XP). I'm glad you didn't mind the shortness of the interlude, you're right about it changing the pace of the story, but also, I will use it on occasion in order to keep the 'update every two/three weeks' schedule I'm trying to keep. So unfortunately, as exams close in, the chapters might get a little shorter, I'm afraid. But for now, my second set of midterms is over, so here's a nice long chapter for you to enjoy! Oh and I enjoyed the super-long response you wrote to my review. It was really insightful to discover all the ideas and traits you had planned for the characters while you were writing them (Kai saying 'Please, no!' was actually funny when I read it XP). And I'm waiting on edge for your update (Tala IS difficult to portray, isn't he? Especially after the first season, it's is very much the prerogative of the author: how they want him to feel, act and think.). By the way, I hope there was enough description here! (Ehem-cough-not like the rooms in 'The Soul Sepulcher'-cough XD). It feels like I'm back on familiar ground writing this, the emotions and descriptions just came much more easily… OH! I just realized, I think I've been misspelling your penname over the past few chapters! If that's true then I'm really, REALLY sorry! (bows) I hope you weren't too annoyed at me for that! This coming from someone who named her story 'Sooryavansham', I really shouldn't be making mistakes like that! I'm very sorry, again!
bladz-liska: (Gasp!) I think this is the single, longest review I have ever received! Thank you so much! First let me say how much it means to me that you took the time to write such an in depth review (In a foreign language, no less! I'd never have the patience XD.). And for such a long review, a super long response is necessary, so (takes a deep breath) prepare yourself…!
First of all, I'm glad you like my Kai; I always detest the crybaby, weak, 'spends-more-time-in-the-hospital-than-out' Kai that many authors portray, so I try to keep him strong and proud. If I ever make him too weak though feel free to metaphorically smack me upside the head in a review XP. I was surprised though, when I read your interpretation of the prologue, mainly because it was almost exactly what I was thinking when I wrote it! I mean, I always wonder if I tend to babble, or write too much, or if the readers will ever understand all the tiny nuances I try to portray in my story. Your review has made me happy, because it shows me that I'm getting my message across and that it is appreciated! So thanks for that! For example, the spider event, and the puppet part were images that create strong impressions to me, I wasn't sure if they would work for the reader… But you got exactly the emotion and depth I was trying to portray, which is incredibly encouraging to me as an author.
Now as for the memory part, I think I understand what had you confused (please correct me if I'm wrong though :P). See, when I envisioned Kai, I saw a jaded, aloof, mature, intelligent and independent youth. However, for all his strengths he must have some faults. One of them, for me, is his age. Kai is too young to understand and accept some things. One of those things, I believe, would be how he was treated at the Abbey (and especially what happened to him at the hands of Boris). These flashes that Kai is having… well, they may or may not be memories (I'll leave you in the dark on that one for now XD)… but Kai absolutely refuses to believe they are memories. Why? Because he doesn't want to believe it could have happened to him. Also, if they truly were memories, why would he be having them now, of all times? Why didn't he have them before, when he first came to Russia and met Boris a year ago? So you see, Kai has a reason for refusing to believe the memories are real. He thinks he was dreaming… or hallucinating. Of course, things have changed a bit, after this chapter (which I hope you liked, by the way!). Anyway, I hope that helped a little!
Also, I'm really glad you like Tyson and the others! Many readers just want me to write Kai chapters (hah ha). One of my goals for this story is to make it realistic, and include lots of little scenes between the characters. This will have the side effect of making the story really, really long eventually, but I wanted to take the time to convey that everyone in the story has a life (Max has his parents and Kenny has his insecurities, for example), and it's not like they just spend every waking hour Beyblading or worrying about Kai (thought there will be much of that too, since I love making people talk and think about Kai XP). Oh, and yes! I never like it when the characters become weepy and angsty: crying every two minutes, it just isn't realistic! So I will try to keep them as in-character as possible.
Oh and as for the last chapter (the interlude), I think I confused at least half my readers with it (so you probably didn't misunderstand, since it was actually meant to confuse you XP). And many of my reviewers didn't really like it. The reason I included the interlude was to give a short break in the story, also to create suspense. Voran is the same old man Kai met on the train, and he did something bad to Kai on the train. I wanted to tell the readers this, but couldn't figure out a good way to do it (since the story is written in Kai's point of view, and he doesn't know it happened). So the interlude was a solution to that. I was also trying a different way of writing (a bit darker and more vague), and it didn't really appeal to everyone… :)
Anyway, your review really made my day! I'm happy you found this story (and liked it!) Actually, I'm wondering, was it difficult to understand some things in my story? I mean, many of my reviewers, who speak English natively, didn't even understand all the words I use (or that Kai uses, specifically XP)! My aim in this story is to make it somewhat complex (grammatically and in the vocabulary it used) but I'm wondering if I've gone a little overboard… Should I continue writing in this style, or should I make it simpler? At any rate, your review was inspiring; I had a lot of fun reading it, thanks again… Oh! But one last thing I wanted to ask (and I hope I don't sound too foolish here!), I looked at your profile after you reviewed (ahh how I wish I could read Spanish…sadly, I'm Canadian, so our multilingualism extends only to a very base, butchered form of French XP), but the last thing you wrote in your review was 'Ikusi arte'… And that doesn't sound much like Spanish. But um… I was wondering, is it Basque for 'see you'? Or am I completely wrong here? ( I know that 'adio' means 'goodbye', but this is also true for many other languages). Ha ha, anyway, I loved your review and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
canyx: Heh, heh, Voran was an unusually fun character to write; I'm think I enjoy writing morbid characterization just a little too much XP. Anyway, I'm glad you liked it, I kinda got a mixed response on that chapter, so I'm taking all that into account when I consider if I should do something like that again… At any rate, thanks for the review, and hope you liked the chappie!
DancerInTheDark101: XD You're too nice, seriously! When I wrote that I was amazed you were reading my fic, I was telling the truth! I really enjoy your style of writing and plotlines, and as a fellow author, I respect your opinion on my story; so it really means a lot to me that you read, and like my story! You see, I wrote the first few chapters of this fic perhaps… 4 or 5 years ago, (on paper). Then I left it for years, before returning only recently… Therefore I didn't see the first few chapters (up to, maybe, chapter 10), as up to the standard that I really wanted them to be, so I was honestly surprised at the reaction I received (I'm still in shock at passing the 100 mark XP). Anyway, as this story progress, I hope to let my writing style grow with it, it's one of my goals for this fic :D.
Adio ppls! And review, after 6904 words (not including the author notes), you can certainly write a 20 word review!... please?