The truth was closed to him, and so were his eyes, framed by a thin plating of glass and wire that hung upon the bridge of his nose. He was sleeping within a dream, only vaguely aware of the world that rushed past his consciousness, along streams of dust and falling feathers, hands resting contentedly by his sides and breathing deep. An insistent wind whipped his hair around and brushed against his cheek, Clive stirred, opening his eyes for the first time in this reality. He looked into the sky, and that's all there was, sky.
What… is this?
No support held him in place, Clive was falling. He panicked on the inside, for his descent was a headfirst one, but when he sent frantic messages to his limbs to make them do anything to remedy his predicament, that same numbing feeling passed over his body as a warning, he was paralysed again. With the paralysis came another welcoming feeling, gently whispering in his ear reassuring words that he would be perfectly safe, like a soothing shot of morphine, Clive relaxed and smiled. He would be okay.
I know this. This… feeling of falling. Familiar…
He felt no air resistance whatsoever, like the world he existed in was not a true manifestation of reality, a dream world. But, this world was real, he could tell, a sixth sense told him so. Clive's dirty coat billowed out behind him as he fell, and his fingers twitched, he could scarcely believe how calm he felt, it was not real, but at the same time, it was. Time did not even pass, it was frozen, and so was he, though the world still moved in perfect motion, time did not want to exist. A feather blew past his eye, and Clive inspected it with perfect precision, he could see everything, all at once. Light grey and specked with charcoal tones, it must have belonged to one of the birds who flew on high, without a care in the world, but the creature was not here now, he was all alone.
This feels good…I cannot feel any hurt, nothing, I cannot sense anything…
I am…warm. The air is warm… and soft…
Like the feathers…
But I do not desire it to be this way. Please, make it stop… I do not belong here…
Finding power over his movements once more, Clive tilted his head back and looked down, amazed at what he saw. Though it felt like he was falling through an endless expanse of air, he could see the ground above his head, and he held a hand to his face to keep his glasses from slipping off. Falling was not an adequate word to describe his dilemma, it was more like he was floating downward, held and pushed by an intangible force. It seemed that he was flying upside-down, towards the ground, without any wings or control.
How did I chance upon this world? …Everything feels like it is in reverse…I do not remember… please don't make me remember…I don't want to remember…
Every single one of his limbs felt wispy and not really there, a similar sensation to when he utilized the teleport orb, but it did not vanish with time and he remained like that, barely composed of any physical matter at all. Physical matter, that was it! Clive felt like a ghost. He hated living to experience it, he hated everything, so alone, so lost, nobody was left to give him comfort; he did not deserve it. Clive gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, he hated himself so much, it was almost painful. In this strange transition between heaven and earth, he felt all of these burning reminders, and became guilty of doing so in an environment that did not permit it. It was a state of passage, he was here, but at the same time, not anywhere. But still, he fell, floating out of the sky.
I do not deserve to have wings and fly…The past has chained me again…
My wings are gone…
…Is that why I am falling?
Clive changed his centre of gravity when the ground became close enough to set his feet on, he flipped himself over and became slightly nauseous as the earth he stood upon felt cold and uninviting, yet bristly as his bare fingers entwined with stiff blades of grass, holding him down. At that precise moment, Clive sensed that something important had just ended, a dream that he had not decided to begin. The warm and safe secure hold on his mind went away without warning, forcing within him a cramping response of withdrawal, peace had decided to pack up and move away. Lacking transition, a new dream began, without even a shift of space or time.
His body felt heavy and light all at once, the best way to describe it would be as if his soul was not inserted into the body, but hovering only a few feet away, manipulating the vessel by remote control. A trickle of blood leaked out of his nose, the change in altitude had given him a nosebleed, but when he raised a hand to wipe the fluid away, the smear it left on his hand was not an oily black one, it was a deep dark red. Human blood.
This scared him even more so than if demon blood had decided to flow out of his veins. He knew that it would already happen, but if he was human again, why in the world did he feel so different, so left out of everything that still bore purity in this world? Clive did not even have an explanation on why he was human again in the first place. He would be happy, if he didn't feel so vague and lost inside.
He tried to stand up, but his legs were imitating jelly, holding him firmly to where he knelt, a sort of pastoral scene, rolling green hills and a wide blue sky dappled with clouds, the place where he had fallen from. Clive looked up, he could see nothing, this strange unusual world had trapped him to it's confines and would not let go. Introspectively, a flimsy light object sailed down and nestled itself snugly into Clive's partially spiky hair, ensnaring and fluttering frailly in the delicate breeze. Curious, the sniper plucked it from the home it had made, looking down at the article and wondering why no feelings wished to come forth.
It was that same feather again, it had followed his descent from the heavens and had chosen to remain nearby. Why? Who would want to be around him? Who cared for the hideous beast he had become? No, this must be some kind of a joke. Nobody loved him at all. Clive enclosed his fingers around the feather and heard the quiet snap as it broke in his fist, so soft and so fragile. However, when he opened his hand again, nothing was there.
I am supposed to protect somebody, but I do not remember who… A girl, a little girl… Who? I can't… recall her name…
"My aim in life is to complete my mission, to hunt for the perfect prey. I have no inclinations or interests in any other subject, my mission is my purpose. A puerile child holds no meaning, only another soul to be hacked away and devoured. I feel neither guilt nor remorse." Clive said in a dismal monotone, not knowing from what mind those words came from, but he had heard those utterances before, so many times, in his own head. All control of his body departed, and he stood up under somebody else's volition.
Who says these words?! They are not my own! I would never harm a child, never!
Clive smiled. "When the demon race holds dominion over this harmonious planet, I shall at last find a replacement for Hiades and Terra, I will find a home, and it will be here, built with the corpses of both mother and child! Humanity cannot stop me from quenching my loneliness, my purpose shall always be to fight!" He placed a fist against his chest and his smile became a sadistically amused smirk. "Little human inside my soul, does this frighten you? Yes, it does, I can feel your fear…"
What? … He can… sense me?
His nosebleed worsened a little, and Clive held his hand up to stop the flow, dark red eyes the same vibrant hue as the blood that escaped from his body. "Of course I can," He said condescendingly, like he was explaining something to a fool, "I know all about you, Clive Winslett. I have so for some time now, more than you could ever imagine or dread. But you have never noticed me, have you? Never, not once…" Carelessly, Clive removed the support of his legs and plopped down on the grassy knoll he occupied, looking gladdened and congenial. "But you nearly got there a few times, human, you nearly reached me, in your heart. There were several times when you were just a footstep away, in the most scorching heat of melee battle, I could perceive you trying to unleash that suppressed power, and you almost did, almost."
Then, you must know… What is… happening to me?
Clive slitted his eyes and leant forward, speaking with the weak voice inside his head. From the cross-legged position he sat in, a drop of blood strayed from the path down his hand, and rolled off the side, a little red bead falling in midair onto the small grassy gap between his folded legs. Clive began to chuckle silently, his shoulders heaving with suppressed laughter. His un-bloodied hand opened wide as an exceptionally powerful wind blew across the knoll, fragments of the broken feather scattering in the air and leaving his grace. "You are beginning to remember," He said whimsically, tilting his head down and looking at the red human blood on his hand. "You can not remain in limbo forever, Clive."
Lim…bo…?
As the singular bead of blood hit the verdant turf that the sniper reclined on, the ground seemed to ripple like tiny waves in a pool, texture changing and shifting to another structure. Everything darkened, the sky, aspects of scope and distance, certain dimensions were stolen away and lost forever. His body was forced to stand up again, and he languidly folded his arms across his chest, looking bored at the lack of surroundings and background. Of course, inside the shell, the real Clive was frightened out of his mind, he was being pulled around like a puppet on strings, but then, who was the puppet master?
His foot shifted slightly and he heard the sound of liquid swirl around his boots. Obligingly, the other being manipulating his body made him glance downward, to watch a sea of red that stretched across the ground for as far as his eyes could see. Clive was standing in the center of an endless region coated with a thin film of blood, barely a centimeter thick, it rippled and created vast rings in the fluid every time Clive made a move. The rest of this dimension was nothing but darkness.
He became a little upset inwardly at the blood that was seeping into the ends of his long trench coat, dying the belt around the bottom a stained black. Also, the colour of his boots were a pale moccasin and any spillage would ruin them forever. Timidly, he moved a few steps forward, only the light splashing of blood producing any sound. Clive cleaned away all the blood on his face and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, narrowing his eyes a little bit. He was not really used to wearing glasses of any sort, they were bothering him.
"Well, little human warrior," He boomed, voice echoing in the confined dimension, off walls neither of them could see, "Let us see if you can remember this memory, it is very special, at least to me." He tapped his right temple as if he was trying to knock Clive into listening to him. "Maybe you will see things differently from another's perspective."
I do not want another's perspective! I am me! Not you!
A soft wind picked up from somewhere unknown, ruffling Clive's green hair and coat, creating minuscule waves that slopped against his boots and blew the liquid away. His hand went to move behind his ear, holding firm the frame of his glasses and looking to the west. Something was floating with the wind, tiny things, like little leaf-shaped pieces of silk, coloured a rosy pink. They streamed past his face and traveled with the waves, bringing a nostalgic scent with them, one that Clive had never smelt before, but recognized instantly.
Cherry blossoms.
The dimension faded, and Clive went with it.
xxx
Cherry blossoms and starlight, a clearing in some long forgotten forest, ages ago, this was the world he sat in once again, the old world, ancient Filgaia. The steady and musical sound of water cascading down a clear sparkling stream served as background to the notable hum of cicadas, fairly quiet, but enough to make the world seem less lonesome. The trees were a vibrant dark green, nearly emerald, strong leaves able to catch the rare and valuable water that sometimes spilled from the heavens. But one, the greatest and strongest of them all, was a magical and vivacious pink colour, haphazardly releasing it's beautiful silken leafy spores, painting the wind with scent and hue. He sharpened his orihalcum boomerang on a dense and weathered stone underneath the tree, small sparks flying from the weapon as it's edge was honed to perfection. The evening was late and the sun would rise soon, but the armored figure neither needed nor wanted to sleep right now. He had more important things to do.
By his side nestled the great she-wolf of legend, Luceid, the Guardian of desire. Soft night breezes brushed her long grey fur as she held her head to the heavens, ear twitching to the annoying grating sounds the demon next to her was making. Boomerang stopped every thirty seconds or so to check the progress of his work, smiling at the favourable results.
Luceid spoke directly into his mind, the pronunciation of proper English was impossible in her natural form. The wolf's almond-shaped eyes blinked lazily in the warm spring night, sensitively nudging Boomerang's side with a long bushy tail. "Lady Harken has fallen, Boomerang, are you aware of that? She was such a strong fighter, yet, a singular human managed to bring her down…" A paw played sullenly with a blade of soft green grass, lupine claws blunted and hidden when not needed to fight. "And they say that the reason she allowed herself to perish was for love… She loved her murderer, with all her heart."
"Love is the wisdom of the fool, and the folly of the wise." Said Boomerang, showing hardened and informal contrite, "Harken was both wise and a fool, but I do not fault her, for she never was and never would have been one of us, a true demon. The product of Alhazad's twisted experiments, as I recall." He shook his head, wisps of black hair falling across his face. His battle helmet was discarded for the night, he would not be fighting until tomorrow, at least.
"With Zed gone, that would only leave you, Alhazad and Zeikfried…" Luceid brushed the side of her muzzle against Boomerang's leg, radiating her concern for the bounty hunter. "Ka Dingel has risen, has it not? The tower to the ancient colonies in the sky, the plan of the demon knight continues…"
"And I am merely a step for it's desired fruition." Boomerang replied, refusing to look up from his weapon. He rubbed away a smudge of polishing wax from his cheek, and his ruby red eyes glittered amongst the dark skin tones of his face. "Zeikfried wishes to toss me away after my usefulness has ended. I need not a prophecy to predict his plan of events. Luceid, he has lost the semblance of his individuality, another soul festers in his mind. Mother's." His hand went to stroke the fur on Luceid's back, soft like velvet but twice as beautiful. "Total destruction is all she wants, and if Zeik succeeds, Filgaia will perish."
Luceid lowered her gaze, laying her head between her paws. "I do not wish for that to happen, She sighed, I did not contribute to the Guardian ray line because of two important reasons. For my continued survival within this desolate planet, and because I so foolishly fell in love with you, Boomerang. Though I fight on your side, I…did so on the intents of demonic colonisation, not destruction…"
"We are both fools," Boomerang agreed ruefully, scratching her behind the ear, "I should not have returned that love, yes, I do not want Filgaia lost as well. I want power, power to fight, and most of all, I want to discover what it is that removes loneliness from a lonely soul." He grabbed a low branch of the tree he was sitting under and got to his feet, armour restraining his movements and making a hushed metallic sound. Sighing under all the weight that he no longer needed to carry, he unlatched the buckles that held his armour in place and discarded the heavy metal next to his wolf companion. He was heavy enough without having all that extra discomfort. Boomerang crouched at the bubbling brook, submerging his sharpened weapon in the water to cool it down from all the friction endured. White steam rose from the water and dissolved into the atmosphere.
Cleansed in the stream, he pulled the weapon out again, rivulets of water running down his arm and dampening the loose cloth gi he usually wore under his armour. By looking hard at the surface of his weapon, he could see a tiny scratch, a blemish on his most treasured tool. It must have been that human knight who did it, or those long and rewarding sparring matches he had taken with the fledgling Zed, before his unaccountable disappearance. Boomerang had already presumed him dead. "What I want to know is…" He rubbed his finger over the scratch, feeling the imperfection and trying to flake it away with a nail. "I want to know what happiness is."
Luceid got up from her place under the cherry tree, padding forwards a little bit, perplexed at the words that so uncharacteristically came from a demon. "Happiness?" She asked.
Testing his weapon, Boomerang threw his Saber Fang at the thick branch of a tree, satisfied when the limb was amputated swiftly and accurately, crashing to the ground and forcing some birds that were living there to fly away. "I am happy when I fight," Boomerang explained as he caught the blade on it's return trip with ease, despite the scratch, it still worked fine. "Fighting is the reason for my existence in this world, the reason why I was spawned for the purposes of war, by Mother, my mother." He strapped the boomerang to it's resting place behind his left shoulder, where it was meant to be. "I was happy fighting, I lived for the fight… It made me feel… free inside."
"You are speaking in past tense. Why? What is wrong? What has changed?" Luceid pointed out, worried.
"Lately, I find myself questioning that happiness, I do not know if it is real or not." He turned around, and Luceid was no longer in her natural form, but a silhouette basically resembling a human woman. If it were not for her strikingly colourful violet and pink hair, Boomerang could have mistaken her for a simple maiden walking down a busy street.
"Every mortal finds themselves pondering that problem every so often," Luceid told him, talking with her mouth now that her vocal chords were capable of forming coherent words, "You should not let it trouble you, Boomerang."
Boomerang crossed his arms. "No, don't misunderstand," He said, "I still find fulfilment in battle and conflict, don't get me wrong. It is the bi-product of that warlust which allows you to stay with me, Luceid. I do not want to lose that, or you." Cherry blossoms rained through the sky, one tickled Boomerang under his nose and he blew it away, trying to ignore the intrusions with stride.
Luceid traced a slightly protruding root from the overhanging tree with her bare feet, it lead straight up to Boomerang's side and she set her hand upon the crook of his elbow, the material he was wearing felt coarse and uncomfortable, but no irritation from it showed up on Boomerang's face, nothing at all. Usually, the metal demon was very expressive with his facial features, the supreme reason why Boomerang chose to hide himself behind a metal helmet. He felt Luceid's contact and smiled inwardly, loosening up a bit.
"The truth is," He continued, taking Luceid by the hand, but continuing to look straight ahead, "Ever since I have been charged to dispatch the humans that hinder our conquest, I can no longer look at myself and be happy anymore. My happiness is a farce, showing how lonely I really am."
He glanced down into the water of the stream, amongst the ripples and darkness caught in the reflection, he could see his own face, a little unfamiliar because he was used to seeing it covered by a mask. Boomerang supposed that to any other human female, he would look rather handsome, if nobody asked where he had come from and ignored the colour of his eyes and the tiny fangs in his jaw, he could pass for a human with a little effort.
"The humans who live here, the natives of Filgaia, they do not need to fight in order to win their happiness, they forge it from the sands of time and the dusts of despair. From that, they turn happiness into hope, and that hope into power. Limitless power…" He finally faced Luceid, taking both her slender hands with his dark brown ones. "I don't know what it is that transforms emotions into power, so tomorrow, I am going to find out."
"Ka Dingel… Zeikfried has given us orders already?" And she already knew what those orders would be. Destroy the humans, or at least stall them until their plans were completed. They had the powers of the three Guardian lords on their side, how could a singular demon bounty hunter hope to…
But this was Boomerang they were talking about. He could do anything, if he put his mind to it.
"Tomorrow, there shall be a death at the foot of Ka Dingel. The humans, or me. You do not have to come if you do not want to. There is no reason for both of us to feel pain." Luceid's hands tightened around his. Her bright red eyes had crystalline liquid beading at the corners, she was about to cry. "Like I said, Zeikfried is just waiting for a chance to eliminate me from his new world, I will play no part in his trickery, my role is at an end."
"You are saying…" Though she tried, Luceid could not finish. Boomerang met her gaze with steadfast eyes, did he already know his own fate? He slowly let go of her hands, an emotion that could be best described as regret present in his eyes. Doing something that Luceid would not have expected, he raised one hand and pointed to the sky, slightly off-centre from the north star and at a little cluster of milky mist in the heavens.
"Hiades, my home." He wistfully watched the stars pulse and send their light to the cosmos. Long ago, he could have looked from Terra and wondered exactly what the planet Filgaia would have been like. Well, he was well aware of it now. "I would have wished to go back there someday, if Mother had not destroyed it… The battles there were always fierce, I liked it."
"What was it like?" Luceid asked, following his finger up into the sky. She was the Guardian of only Filgaia, how the other worlds lived and thrived, she had no idea. Boomerang seemed like he wanted to say something, but only shrugged and checked his blade again, the faintest shade of red appearing on his cheeks. He didn't reply, dancing around the topic. Realising this, she turned it back to the original subject. "I am going with you tomorrow, you cannot stop me."
His finger slipped against the edge of the Saber Fang, it was still wet and he had forgotten this. The skin broke and blood slicked his hand, but if that was the worst he would have to suffer, then this planet was not worth fighting for. "Then you will follow me to Hell, most likely." He put his finger in his mouth, tasting the tang of oil and mercury on his tongue.
Luceid closed her eyes, two tears running down her cheeks. Sometimes, as a Guardian, she acted far too much like a human for her own good. Damn Raftina and her curse of love! Why in the world did she have to fall for a demon? Why?
"So be it." She said.
xxx
A bird's ceaseless cawing softly became a beacon that pulled Clive back to the world he was most comfortable with, perpetual motion reminding him that his real body was sitting on the roof of a train, in a light trance state brought on by long-lasting boredom, or maybe something more. Wings flapped near his ear and a pair of talons bit into his coat sleeve, the quick and mild pain bringing Clive out of his reverie.
"That was… the most realistic daydream I have ever experienced…" He mumbled, swearing that he could still smell the cherry blossoms in the air. Clive recalled the first dream he had, the weird sensation of falling that seemed to hold no meaning for him, but meant more than anything else. It had felt warm and fuzzy, safe.
Then there was Boomerang, he thought with a sinking feeling, looking at the finger he had cut in his dream. His hand was much paler and did not have the tough calluses the demon Boomerang bore, but a miniscule flare of ghostly pain rose and fell in the span of a second, localised on the end of his index finger.
I really ought to pay more attention to myself, I cannot afford to let Boomerang get control again…But I wonder, of all souls on this planet, why did he choose to occupy mine?
Clive raised his arm, finally noticing the large black bird perched upon it, shadowy wings folded along a feathered back. The sunlight hitting the plumage made a shimmering of violet and green on the ebony surface, this bird was no simple fowl, it was a beautiful dark raven, a wanderer of the wastelands. "You are the one who woke me up… Good afternoon." Clive greeted, shifting his legs so the feeling could return, aware that inevitable pins and needles would soon follow.
The bird cawed again, hopping up his arm and onto his shoulder, Clive expected to feel a slight hurt from it because of his injury, but sadly remembered that the wound was gone and something far worse replaced it. Clive didn't want to think about it, not too much. So, he had found a friend, Clive felt a little better and gingerly patted the bird's wing, getting it's cold hard beak scraped fondly against one finger. This was not a wild animal, the raven was tame.
Unexpectedly, it stretched out with it's beak and grasped the frame holding Clive's glasses to his face, behind his ear, and tried to pull it away. In retaliation, Clive held the other side firmly with two fingers, a slight change in the rails and the train's direction making him slide a little to the right. They were in the canyon, that was easy to discern from the high cliffs enveloping the entire area, but it still would be some time before they would reach the station. He didn't mind, though he was in a desperate hurry, this brief period of relaxation made him quite patient. "Hey," Clive protested quietly to the bird, "I know your kind collects shiny things like these, but I still need my glasses, you cannot have them."
Seeming to understand his speech, the raven let go and looked at Clive inquisitively, flexing it's little claws on his coat. The drifter noticed something unusual around one of the bird's legs, clinching the speculation that the animal was a pet belonging to somebody else. His hand slowly moved to untie the pretty red ribbon, Clive saw it was binding a tiny piece of paper to the limb. "A carrier pigeo-"
Only a few centimetres from liberating the curious object, the raven realised what Clive was going to do and cawed out a warning, spreading wings wide and pushing off, embracing the blue sky and soaring off into the distance, leaving a scattering of black feathers behind.
"I feel I know that animal from somewhere…" Clive told himself out loud, impulsively holding a hand to his face. He subconsciously anticipated what would occur next and waited for it to happen. Liquid started to escape from his nose, the nosebleed from the dream manifesting itself in reality. He fumbled for a handkerchief and pressed it under the spillage, wondering where the bird had flown off to and how long it would take until he reached his destination.
And also, his little Kaitlyn.
"Ravendor," Clive growled with utmost venom, his mood taking a turn for the worse, "If you so much as harm a hair on her head, I will… I shall not hesitate to send you to the seventh inferno of purgatory, even if I must escort you there myself!" He cut a swath in the air for emphasis, allowing anger to rule his mind for a few ephemeral seconds.
Wait… Who do I sound like? I am beginning to sound more and more like Boomerang…
Not even his white handkerchief could hold all the blood that exited his body, the dark rich oil ran down his hand, much like in his dream, and Clive held back an upset snarl, momentarily showing the flash of vestigial dagger-like canines hidden in his mouth.