Finally, the second chapter of "Tales of the Spanish Ninja"! At long last! Praise Cammy, I'm finally getting around to it! Translations are after the chapter.
There was a man in that room, standing against the wall. He was of average face, but I could sense his power. When he saw I had awakened, he moved towards me with the grace posessed only by those who know the ways of battle. He had to be well over two meters tall, and although he wore a well-tailored suit, I could tell he was remarkably strong and fierce.
"Vega Fabio de Crena," he addressed me.
"I detest that name. Never call me that again."
He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Now, now, Lord de Cerna. You should be thanking me." His voice was deep, and his Spanish was twinged with an accent I could not identify, although his features suggested a possible Southeast Asian origin.
"Why should I thank you? Where am I?" I demanded.
"Lord de Cerna, calm yourself. I was brought here on your sensai's request. My name is Sagat."
What would my sensai have to do with this? My mind raced through all the possibliities, and found nothing. In my silence, Sagat continued.
"Your sensai Santiago is an associate of mine. He heard of your crime, and reported it to me."
"Who are you?" I shouted, petulant as always.
"To answer your previous question, we are in the sub-level of the Castle de Maria Isobel."
I gasped. Everyone in Barcelona knew the dark suspicions surrounding this place, and, desperate to make heads or tails of my situation, I blurted out the one thing my mind could summon.
"So you're from Shadowloo?"
He smirked. "I see you are familiar with our organization. Lord de Cerna, consider yourself fortunate. Your skill has greatly impressed Santiago. When he reported your feats to me, I must admit, I was very impressed as well. For a mere child of fourteen to show that kind of fighting prowess is, frankly, amazing. Which leads me to my busniess with you." He paused to clear his throat, so I did not hesitate to ask:
"You want me in Shadowloo? Why? What would I do?"
That smirk crossed his face once again. "You would start at the bottom. But unlike most recruits, you have a chance to rise up the ranks. Perhaps someday, you may become an Elite. In return for your services as a fighter, you will be educated by the finest instructers in the world, trained by the finest fighters, and paid a bi-annual salary of one hundred thousand dollars American."
My head swam with all the information. "And...if I refuse?" I asked, knowing full well that I had already made up my mind. Shadowloo! To be a part of that would be ecstasy itself! I would kill, and be honored for it! My heart pounded in my chest, up into my throat.
"Should you refuse, you will be turned over to the police for the murder of your parents. I believe you would be found guilty in a moment, and either be executed, or spend the remainder of your life in prison."
I licked my lips. "I will be exonerated if I accept?"
"Yes. We can plant evidence to pin the deed on the serving girl who found you."
"Very well then, Sagat. You have found yourself a new recruit."
His eyes gleamed. "Excellent. I shall inform the Master."
After he left, my hand flew to my face. The cut was healed. My lovely, perfect face was intact! Oh, even now, years later, I consider that to be the greatest day of my life. I had rid myself of my spiteful parents and got off free, my beauty remained, and I would make my living doing what I was born to do.
You are not drinking your wine. Is it not to your liking?
But at any rate, Sagat was true to his word. The maid was tried for the murders, and executed three months later. She accused me until the end. Even as the noose was placed around her neck, she screamed my guilt to the sky. As the trapdoor snapped open, sending her plunging to her death, I smiled. All was right with the world.
After one year in Shadowloo, my path to destiny became clear. I recieved a message written in a strangely elegant script. It was not in Spanish or English, but I somehow understood every word. I was to participate in a grand battle with one of the Elite, and in attendance would be the Master himself! Oh, I was as giddy as I had been that fateful day one year ago, when I, sword in hand, freed myself of my limitations. And I would see the Master! After this time, I had yet to catch even a glimpse of the elusive and mystic man known as M. Bison. It was said that to see him is the greatest honour a lowly agent like myself could ever hope for. The Elite met with him on a regular basis, and the agents and soldiers rarely crossed paths with the Princes of Shadowloo. Yet I, a mere beginner, would be battling one!
That afternoon, I arrived at the Arena. Sagat was in attendance, as was an Italian gypsy woman whose name I learned to be Rose. And there was another man there, already seated. I could not see his face, but his eyes glowed with a strange light, and he bore the symbol of Shadowloo on his strange red uniform.
Suddenly, I was overcome with pure adoration, and fell to my knees. "Master..." I gasped, unable to think of anything else. In that moment, I knew that I was destined to become an Elite, to share that great power which he wielded over all of us.
"Vega." That voice! The inherent power cut through, leaving me breathless, after he had only spoken my name! Was there nothing about this man that lacked command and leadership?
He continued. "Vega, do you know why you have been summoned to my presence?" I couldn't speak, only shook my head. "You are to battle Balrog, the fighting demon from America. He is skilled, but lacks discipline. You, at the age of fifteen, have shown skill to match the Elite. But to become one of the Princes, you must first defeat one. Would you like to be considered for that position?"
Somehow I found my voice, but could not translate. "Sir... me honrarían. Pero qué si yo no puede lo derrotaron?"
He laughed, a truly frightening sound. "If you cannot defeat him, you will return to your current position, and may try once again when I deem you worthy."
I bowed deeply. "Gracias, sir. Usted es el más merciful."
He smiled, displaying his knife-sharp teeth. "Merciful? You may not think so when you face your opponent."
A section of the wall opened, and a horrible snarling sound broke the serenity of the Arena. And my opponent entered.
To put it simply, this was no man. This...THING...was the most hideous beast I have ever seen in my life, even now. And to my young mind, which had just been weakened by my Master's control, there were two choices.
The first would have been to retreat, surrender before the battle began, but I knew that I would be shamed should that occur. No, my hatred for this ugly beast commanded me to kill him. Freed of my awe for the Master, I unsheathed my sword and lept towards the creature, yelling a high-pitched battle cry.
The closer I came, the uglier he got. This had to be the single most repulsive creature the world had ever known. I strongly doubted that he was even human, for his eyes bore no intelligence, only a feral drive unmatched by any human I have ever seen. Part of me admired that feral state, for when one is wild like that, one can do what one feels like. But I quickly shoved that tought to the back of my mind, and furthered my attack.
I do not clearly recall the details of the fight. I rememebr driving my sword up the hilt into his shoulder. He reared back, frothing at the mouth like a rabid beast, and delivered a volley of blows to my midsection. Stunned, I fell to the blood-spotted ground and lost consciousness.
["Sir... me honrarían. Pero qué si yo no puede lo derrotaron?"="Sir...I would be honoured. But what if I cannot defeat him?"]
["Gracias, sir. Usted es el más merciful."="Thank you, sir.. You are most merciful."]
There was a man in that room, standing against the wall. He was of average face, but I could sense his power. When he saw I had awakened, he moved towards me with the grace posessed only by those who know the ways of battle. He had to be well over two meters tall, and although he wore a well-tailored suit, I could tell he was remarkably strong and fierce.
"Vega Fabio de Crena," he addressed me.
"I detest that name. Never call me that again."
He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Now, now, Lord de Cerna. You should be thanking me." His voice was deep, and his Spanish was twinged with an accent I could not identify, although his features suggested a possible Southeast Asian origin.
"Why should I thank you? Where am I?" I demanded.
"Lord de Cerna, calm yourself. I was brought here on your sensai's request. My name is Sagat."
What would my sensai have to do with this? My mind raced through all the possibliities, and found nothing. In my silence, Sagat continued.
"Your sensai Santiago is an associate of mine. He heard of your crime, and reported it to me."
"Who are you?" I shouted, petulant as always.
"To answer your previous question, we are in the sub-level of the Castle de Maria Isobel."
I gasped. Everyone in Barcelona knew the dark suspicions surrounding this place, and, desperate to make heads or tails of my situation, I blurted out the one thing my mind could summon.
"So you're from Shadowloo?"
He smirked. "I see you are familiar with our organization. Lord de Cerna, consider yourself fortunate. Your skill has greatly impressed Santiago. When he reported your feats to me, I must admit, I was very impressed as well. For a mere child of fourteen to show that kind of fighting prowess is, frankly, amazing. Which leads me to my busniess with you." He paused to clear his throat, so I did not hesitate to ask:
"You want me in Shadowloo? Why? What would I do?"
That smirk crossed his face once again. "You would start at the bottom. But unlike most recruits, you have a chance to rise up the ranks. Perhaps someday, you may become an Elite. In return for your services as a fighter, you will be educated by the finest instructers in the world, trained by the finest fighters, and paid a bi-annual salary of one hundred thousand dollars American."
My head swam with all the information. "And...if I refuse?" I asked, knowing full well that I had already made up my mind. Shadowloo! To be a part of that would be ecstasy itself! I would kill, and be honored for it! My heart pounded in my chest, up into my throat.
"Should you refuse, you will be turned over to the police for the murder of your parents. I believe you would be found guilty in a moment, and either be executed, or spend the remainder of your life in prison."
I licked my lips. "I will be exonerated if I accept?"
"Yes. We can plant evidence to pin the deed on the serving girl who found you."
"Very well then, Sagat. You have found yourself a new recruit."
His eyes gleamed. "Excellent. I shall inform the Master."
After he left, my hand flew to my face. The cut was healed. My lovely, perfect face was intact! Oh, even now, years later, I consider that to be the greatest day of my life. I had rid myself of my spiteful parents and got off free, my beauty remained, and I would make my living doing what I was born to do.
You are not drinking your wine. Is it not to your liking?
But at any rate, Sagat was true to his word. The maid was tried for the murders, and executed three months later. She accused me until the end. Even as the noose was placed around her neck, she screamed my guilt to the sky. As the trapdoor snapped open, sending her plunging to her death, I smiled. All was right with the world.
After one year in Shadowloo, my path to destiny became clear. I recieved a message written in a strangely elegant script. It was not in Spanish or English, but I somehow understood every word. I was to participate in a grand battle with one of the Elite, and in attendance would be the Master himself! Oh, I was as giddy as I had been that fateful day one year ago, when I, sword in hand, freed myself of my limitations. And I would see the Master! After this time, I had yet to catch even a glimpse of the elusive and mystic man known as M. Bison. It was said that to see him is the greatest honour a lowly agent like myself could ever hope for. The Elite met with him on a regular basis, and the agents and soldiers rarely crossed paths with the Princes of Shadowloo. Yet I, a mere beginner, would be battling one!
That afternoon, I arrived at the Arena. Sagat was in attendance, as was an Italian gypsy woman whose name I learned to be Rose. And there was another man there, already seated. I could not see his face, but his eyes glowed with a strange light, and he bore the symbol of Shadowloo on his strange red uniform.
Suddenly, I was overcome with pure adoration, and fell to my knees. "Master..." I gasped, unable to think of anything else. In that moment, I knew that I was destined to become an Elite, to share that great power which he wielded over all of us.
"Vega." That voice! The inherent power cut through, leaving me breathless, after he had only spoken my name! Was there nothing about this man that lacked command and leadership?
He continued. "Vega, do you know why you have been summoned to my presence?" I couldn't speak, only shook my head. "You are to battle Balrog, the fighting demon from America. He is skilled, but lacks discipline. You, at the age of fifteen, have shown skill to match the Elite. But to become one of the Princes, you must first defeat one. Would you like to be considered for that position?"
Somehow I found my voice, but could not translate. "Sir... me honrarían. Pero qué si yo no puede lo derrotaron?"
He laughed, a truly frightening sound. "If you cannot defeat him, you will return to your current position, and may try once again when I deem you worthy."
I bowed deeply. "Gracias, sir. Usted es el más merciful."
He smiled, displaying his knife-sharp teeth. "Merciful? You may not think so when you face your opponent."
A section of the wall opened, and a horrible snarling sound broke the serenity of the Arena. And my opponent entered.
To put it simply, this was no man. This...THING...was the most hideous beast I have ever seen in my life, even now. And to my young mind, which had just been weakened by my Master's control, there were two choices.
The first would have been to retreat, surrender before the battle began, but I knew that I would be shamed should that occur. No, my hatred for this ugly beast commanded me to kill him. Freed of my awe for the Master, I unsheathed my sword and lept towards the creature, yelling a high-pitched battle cry.
The closer I came, the uglier he got. This had to be the single most repulsive creature the world had ever known. I strongly doubted that he was even human, for his eyes bore no intelligence, only a feral drive unmatched by any human I have ever seen. Part of me admired that feral state, for when one is wild like that, one can do what one feels like. But I quickly shoved that tought to the back of my mind, and furthered my attack.
I do not clearly recall the details of the fight. I rememebr driving my sword up the hilt into his shoulder. He reared back, frothing at the mouth like a rabid beast, and delivered a volley of blows to my midsection. Stunned, I fell to the blood-spotted ground and lost consciousness.
["Sir... me honrarían. Pero qué si yo no puede lo derrotaron?"="Sir...I would be honoured. But what if I cannot defeat him?"]
["Gracias, sir. Usted es el más merciful."="Thank you, sir.. You are most merciful."]