Chapter 9:
Where was I? Was I dead?
I didn't know. For a long while I couldn't see anything but darkness. I presumed I was dead; eerily, there was no pain where I was shot.
Was this all a dream? Was this all my wild imagination?
No – decidedly not. Gradually, I regained my vision, eyes slowly focusing. The surroundings reeled and drifted by in blurs of black and white. No, I was the one moving. I could feel the murky waters soak my tattered shoes and rush between my toes as I ran on, making light splashes with each step. A light pack of luggage bounced on my back. Why was I running? Where was I?
I gradually came to a halt, kneeling over to catch my breath. Somehow, I was standing in the middle of a dimly lit alley, with graffiti- filled brick walls closing in on me on both sides. A few trashcans lay toppled here and there, and a few bent ladders hugged closely to the walls. Heavy drops of rain poured down relentlessly from the darkened sky, and thunder rolled in the distance. It was clearly nighttime; a few sabotaged streetlights flickered with dying sparks.
Amongst the incessant tapping of raindrops, I could hear splashes – and metal grating against rough, wet concrete. As I whipped my head around, blinding beams of light washed over my face. I raised one arm to shield my sensitive eyes from the glare.
"Hey – over there!" a voice shouted.
Instinctively, I ran from the voice. Why did I run from him? I looked down to find the answer in my hands. In one fist, I clutched on to a blood stained blade – the titanium blade that father gave me. Water slowly diluted the blood, washing the crimson and the sickening stench away. As A bolt of lightning tore across the sky, I could seem my amber eyes gleaming back at me. No, this was not me – or at least, not who I am right now. In the reflection was the face of a lupine – much younger than I was, and without my black eye patch.
Then the realization struck me. This was the day I left Corneria. A campus guard attempted to prevent my escape, and I slit his throat in a rage. From that moment on, I abandoned all my past belongings. But why was I living in the past – in this stagnant pool of time? No, there was no time to think. I must make my escape all over again.
As I puffed and panted and ran for my life, the ghostly splashes drew closer and closer, until I felt my feet stumble upon something, and my snout plunked solidly into the rough pavement. I crawled on in pain, but a pair of strong hands clung to my heels. Whipping around in terror, I could see the face of a young vulpine. McCloud?
"You cannot run, O'Donnell," he gasped. "You cannot run from reality."
With an anguished cry caught in my throat, my eyelids shot open. Above me was white ceiling – and no more. All was quiet. The stale air smelled of… morphine?
I sat up instantaneously, and soon regretted my decision – a pain ripped through my chest, like broken glass caught in my lungs, but only worse. I yelped in a muffled, dry voice, squeezing my eyes together tightly.
"Don't even try," a familiar voice spoke calmly from behind.
As the pain settled, I swept my vision around the room. White plaster peeled from the walls, and simple furniture lay scattered in the confined space – including the bed on which I sat. A heart rate monitor beeped in a sturdy pace. I looked to the side, and there, Fox McCloud leaned drowsily against the wall. Yes, suddenly I remembered my situation – I was shot by a guard, and at the last moment, Fox came and he…
"You've slept for a week already," Fox said in the same tired, raspy voice.
"Why did you save me? You could have left me there to die," I asked, malice reeking from each word I enunciated.
Fox did not answer immediately; he simply shook his head and chuckled weakly.
"Hell knows. I didn't want anyone to die, and I thought I'd keep you for a fair match in the future – as we promised. Remember?"
My stern countenance relaxed into a feeble grin, disregarding the pain for the moment. For such a simple reason, he kept me alive. He kept Corneria's biggest enemy alive.
"You'll regret your decision in the future," I mumbled in grim humor.
"Whatever you say."
For an uncomfortable moment, we both sat wordlessly. Then the heavy door slid open, and Fara Phoenix pranced in merrily, seemingly unaware of the fact that I've regained consciousness. My eyes followed her as she walked to Fox, handing him a small bundle.
"I've brought you food Fox. Thought you'd be hungry. You should come home soon. I don't think he'll be awake for a while to come," she spoke in her jubilant voice. Fox simply tilted his head to my direction, directing Fara's gaze to me.
An awkward silence drew on as Fara and I stared at each other, the memories of the past falling upon me once again. I suddenly remembered - we hung out with each other during the early days of the Academy, but she soon found Fox much more compatible. Not that I minded - I had others for company. But something about our pasts made it hard for us to speak… She must have been afraid of me, too. I plotted for Fox and the general's death, after all.
Heaving a deep sigh. I closed my eyes and lay back in bed. What would I do now? Such aimless tranquility washed over me as I lay there, finally alleviated of the burden of vengeance. My goal wasn't fulfilled – nor was it failed. It was just suspended for the moment, and kept on a temporary standstill. I wished that it would last. I returned to Corneria at last, unable to retrieve what once belonged to me, but I no longer cared.
Sadly, I could do nothing to catch the fleeting moment in time. No, I could not stay in Corneria forever. It would be too shameful, and most likely, I would be imprisoned upon recovery. I must go now.
When I opened my eyes again, the two have already fallen asleep – Fara lying against Fox's shoulders, with a content smile curved upon her face. Luckily, I have been through enough major injuries to recover swiftly. I crawled up silently, biting down the pain, and feebly crept out of the window. Judging from the throbbing ache, The wound had not healed completely. Even with the aide of modern technology, such injuries would take months to heal.
As I suspected, I was at the academy hospital. The clean robe that adorned me would cover my bandages and make me less conspicuous. Perhaps my eye patch would betray my identity, but as long as I quickly made my way out, I had nothing to worry about.
Somehow, I slipped out of the Academy unnoticed. I even rubbed shoulders with Bill Grey – one of my former classmates. Perhaps General Scales' invasion left too great a shock in the people. Speaking of which, I still owed Scales his cowardly betrayal, but surprisingly, I felt no urge to claim my retaliation. It all seemed too troublesome and trivial… Anyhow, the draping cloak made a great disguise. In no time, I made it to the streets, past dozens of bustling reconstruction sites, and out of the Northern Gate of Corneria City.
Apparently, they have not retrieved my Wolfen III from the clearing. My helmet, along with my gadgets and father's trusty blade, have all been confiscated, but I managed to find my ship even without the aide of my radar. Finally, standing beside my ship in the chilly autumn's night, I pondered the series of events for the last time.
Where would I go? Where were the other Starwolf pilots? I assumed that they had all been captured, too, but frankly I didn't care. All I cared was that I had made my way back to Corneria, revisiting my old scars, and came up with new answers on the way. Through my years drifting in space, I have lost my youthful innocence and bloodied my hands. I have crossed the frontier, only to return, a new person. Father wouldn't want me to persist in seeking revenge – or would he? I shook my head as I thought. It's time that I lived for myself, in whatever way I could. Perhaps it meant starting my life as a vagabond again…
The wind howled mournfully as I stood in silent recollection. I strode forth to a stony outcrop near my Wolfen and stood on the ledge, arms tucked behind my back. And there, Corneria City stood in the night, under the vigilant glow of the waning autumn moon. Soon it would be winter, and all would be coated in a frosty glaze. Just like the winters in the Academy… When Fox, Fara, Katt, Falco and I would celebrate the start of vacation with a party at the austere dorms. The times were much simpler back then…
I walked back to my ship slowly, a sad smile creeping upon my worn, exhausted face as I climbed into the cockpit. Fox McCloud, in his infinitely naïve idealism, spared my life. Perhaps we will have a fair match someday, perhaps… But I will not last in Corneria any longer, and linger in the past memories of my youth. I must go now – the stars are beckoning me…
***The End***
I also have an illustration of Wolf – in the dark alleys of Corneria, after his departure from the Academy: http://www.boomspeed.com/ssbmsigs/past.jpg
Okay, after I completed this I finally came to the conclusion that this definitely didn't work out too smoothly. I wrote it during the span of four weeks, constantly switching gear in my way of thinking and making the whole fic all the more disorganized and disconnected. Furthermore, I don't have much experience in action writing – and kept on reverting back to my feeble attempts of using psychological perspectives. The end result? Well… a tattered piece *sigh* with characters that change their personalities the way chameleons change in colors (so pissed at myself _) .Oh well… I'll probably be backing out from further authoring until summer comes. The most I'll do is dish out some short stories.
Where was I? Was I dead?
I didn't know. For a long while I couldn't see anything but darkness. I presumed I was dead; eerily, there was no pain where I was shot.
Was this all a dream? Was this all my wild imagination?
No – decidedly not. Gradually, I regained my vision, eyes slowly focusing. The surroundings reeled and drifted by in blurs of black and white. No, I was the one moving. I could feel the murky waters soak my tattered shoes and rush between my toes as I ran on, making light splashes with each step. A light pack of luggage bounced on my back. Why was I running? Where was I?
I gradually came to a halt, kneeling over to catch my breath. Somehow, I was standing in the middle of a dimly lit alley, with graffiti- filled brick walls closing in on me on both sides. A few trashcans lay toppled here and there, and a few bent ladders hugged closely to the walls. Heavy drops of rain poured down relentlessly from the darkened sky, and thunder rolled in the distance. It was clearly nighttime; a few sabotaged streetlights flickered with dying sparks.
Amongst the incessant tapping of raindrops, I could hear splashes – and metal grating against rough, wet concrete. As I whipped my head around, blinding beams of light washed over my face. I raised one arm to shield my sensitive eyes from the glare.
"Hey – over there!" a voice shouted.
Instinctively, I ran from the voice. Why did I run from him? I looked down to find the answer in my hands. In one fist, I clutched on to a blood stained blade – the titanium blade that father gave me. Water slowly diluted the blood, washing the crimson and the sickening stench away. As A bolt of lightning tore across the sky, I could seem my amber eyes gleaming back at me. No, this was not me – or at least, not who I am right now. In the reflection was the face of a lupine – much younger than I was, and without my black eye patch.
Then the realization struck me. This was the day I left Corneria. A campus guard attempted to prevent my escape, and I slit his throat in a rage. From that moment on, I abandoned all my past belongings. But why was I living in the past – in this stagnant pool of time? No, there was no time to think. I must make my escape all over again.
As I puffed and panted and ran for my life, the ghostly splashes drew closer and closer, until I felt my feet stumble upon something, and my snout plunked solidly into the rough pavement. I crawled on in pain, but a pair of strong hands clung to my heels. Whipping around in terror, I could see the face of a young vulpine. McCloud?
"You cannot run, O'Donnell," he gasped. "You cannot run from reality."
With an anguished cry caught in my throat, my eyelids shot open. Above me was white ceiling – and no more. All was quiet. The stale air smelled of… morphine?
I sat up instantaneously, and soon regretted my decision – a pain ripped through my chest, like broken glass caught in my lungs, but only worse. I yelped in a muffled, dry voice, squeezing my eyes together tightly.
"Don't even try," a familiar voice spoke calmly from behind.
As the pain settled, I swept my vision around the room. White plaster peeled from the walls, and simple furniture lay scattered in the confined space – including the bed on which I sat. A heart rate monitor beeped in a sturdy pace. I looked to the side, and there, Fox McCloud leaned drowsily against the wall. Yes, suddenly I remembered my situation – I was shot by a guard, and at the last moment, Fox came and he…
"You've slept for a week already," Fox said in the same tired, raspy voice.
"Why did you save me? You could have left me there to die," I asked, malice reeking from each word I enunciated.
Fox did not answer immediately; he simply shook his head and chuckled weakly.
"Hell knows. I didn't want anyone to die, and I thought I'd keep you for a fair match in the future – as we promised. Remember?"
My stern countenance relaxed into a feeble grin, disregarding the pain for the moment. For such a simple reason, he kept me alive. He kept Corneria's biggest enemy alive.
"You'll regret your decision in the future," I mumbled in grim humor.
"Whatever you say."
For an uncomfortable moment, we both sat wordlessly. Then the heavy door slid open, and Fara Phoenix pranced in merrily, seemingly unaware of the fact that I've regained consciousness. My eyes followed her as she walked to Fox, handing him a small bundle.
"I've brought you food Fox. Thought you'd be hungry. You should come home soon. I don't think he'll be awake for a while to come," she spoke in her jubilant voice. Fox simply tilted his head to my direction, directing Fara's gaze to me.
An awkward silence drew on as Fara and I stared at each other, the memories of the past falling upon me once again. I suddenly remembered - we hung out with each other during the early days of the Academy, but she soon found Fox much more compatible. Not that I minded - I had others for company. But something about our pasts made it hard for us to speak… She must have been afraid of me, too. I plotted for Fox and the general's death, after all.
Heaving a deep sigh. I closed my eyes and lay back in bed. What would I do now? Such aimless tranquility washed over me as I lay there, finally alleviated of the burden of vengeance. My goal wasn't fulfilled – nor was it failed. It was just suspended for the moment, and kept on a temporary standstill. I wished that it would last. I returned to Corneria at last, unable to retrieve what once belonged to me, but I no longer cared.
Sadly, I could do nothing to catch the fleeting moment in time. No, I could not stay in Corneria forever. It would be too shameful, and most likely, I would be imprisoned upon recovery. I must go now.
When I opened my eyes again, the two have already fallen asleep – Fara lying against Fox's shoulders, with a content smile curved upon her face. Luckily, I have been through enough major injuries to recover swiftly. I crawled up silently, biting down the pain, and feebly crept out of the window. Judging from the throbbing ache, The wound had not healed completely. Even with the aide of modern technology, such injuries would take months to heal.
As I suspected, I was at the academy hospital. The clean robe that adorned me would cover my bandages and make me less conspicuous. Perhaps my eye patch would betray my identity, but as long as I quickly made my way out, I had nothing to worry about.
Somehow, I slipped out of the Academy unnoticed. I even rubbed shoulders with Bill Grey – one of my former classmates. Perhaps General Scales' invasion left too great a shock in the people. Speaking of which, I still owed Scales his cowardly betrayal, but surprisingly, I felt no urge to claim my retaliation. It all seemed too troublesome and trivial… Anyhow, the draping cloak made a great disguise. In no time, I made it to the streets, past dozens of bustling reconstruction sites, and out of the Northern Gate of Corneria City.
Apparently, they have not retrieved my Wolfen III from the clearing. My helmet, along with my gadgets and father's trusty blade, have all been confiscated, but I managed to find my ship even without the aide of my radar. Finally, standing beside my ship in the chilly autumn's night, I pondered the series of events for the last time.
Where would I go? Where were the other Starwolf pilots? I assumed that they had all been captured, too, but frankly I didn't care. All I cared was that I had made my way back to Corneria, revisiting my old scars, and came up with new answers on the way. Through my years drifting in space, I have lost my youthful innocence and bloodied my hands. I have crossed the frontier, only to return, a new person. Father wouldn't want me to persist in seeking revenge – or would he? I shook my head as I thought. It's time that I lived for myself, in whatever way I could. Perhaps it meant starting my life as a vagabond again…
The wind howled mournfully as I stood in silent recollection. I strode forth to a stony outcrop near my Wolfen and stood on the ledge, arms tucked behind my back. And there, Corneria City stood in the night, under the vigilant glow of the waning autumn moon. Soon it would be winter, and all would be coated in a frosty glaze. Just like the winters in the Academy… When Fox, Fara, Katt, Falco and I would celebrate the start of vacation with a party at the austere dorms. The times were much simpler back then…
I walked back to my ship slowly, a sad smile creeping upon my worn, exhausted face as I climbed into the cockpit. Fox McCloud, in his infinitely naïve idealism, spared my life. Perhaps we will have a fair match someday, perhaps… But I will not last in Corneria any longer, and linger in the past memories of my youth. I must go now – the stars are beckoning me…
***The End***
I also have an illustration of Wolf – in the dark alleys of Corneria, after his departure from the Academy: http://www.boomspeed.com/ssbmsigs/past.jpg
Okay, after I completed this I finally came to the conclusion that this definitely didn't work out too smoothly. I wrote it during the span of four weeks, constantly switching gear in my way of thinking and making the whole fic all the more disorganized and disconnected. Furthermore, I don't have much experience in action writing – and kept on reverting back to my feeble attempts of using psychological perspectives. The end result? Well… a tattered piece *sigh* with characters that change their personalities the way chameleons change in colors (so pissed at myself _) .Oh well… I'll probably be backing out from further authoring until summer comes. The most I'll do is dish out some short stories.