Chapter 24: The Choice
Riddick awoke early the next morning, and gently untangled his limbs from Kyra's, trying not to wake her. He grabbed his pants, pulled them on, and headed to the balcony of their room. He stood there leaning forward against the railing, enjoying the feeling of the cool morning breeze against his bare chest. The sun hadn't risen yet, but the world was bathed in a pale misty light. Birds were just beginning to sing and the whole world felt like it was just beginning to open its eyes and stretch.
After awhile he heard the door open and Kyra joined him, running a hand down the deep groove of his back over his spine. He turned to look at her and was struck again at the lithe strength and unconscious beauty she had. She was dressed in a pair of his pants again, but instead of her black shirt she wore a white wife beater, thin enough that he could just barely see the darkness of her nipples through the shirt. Her hair was loose and tumbled in a riot of curls and waves down her back and over her shoulders. "How the hell did I get her?" he thought to himself as he looked at her standing next to him, enjoying the morning like he had been before she had come out. She looked happy to be off the ship and on planet again, to feel the wind and hear birds sing in the early morning light. He no longer noticed any of these things; however, his entire world had shrunk. Now it held nothing but Kyra and the way she looked standing there next to him.
He reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, drawing her to him. Kyra looked up into his eyes and her heart skipped a beat. She could never get used to that; that look that was coming from Riddick's silver eyes and the instant fire that it set off in her. She sighed as his lips crushed hers, shutting off everything but him and this moment. "God, I love him!" She thought as he slid his hands under the back of her shirt, and slowly lowered them to the ground.
Later that afternoon Riddick, Kyra and Shirah stood again before the counsel. Elder Declan stood before them, dislike and distrust flowed off him like waves.
He didn't like this younger man…He was too self-assured. He didn't seem to fear or respect the Elders. If he became their leader, Elder Declan feared that all the power, all the influence that he had worked for over the past thirty years would be lost. He would be lowered, not to his previous and rather lowly position of foot soldier; but worse, to nothing but an old man who had spent his life too busy with his own ambitions to have a family. He would have nothing left if he was not an Elder.
The greatest thing that had ever happened to him had been the destruction of the Furyan civilization as they knew it by the Necromongers. When they had come to wipe out all the young men, all the alpha Furyans died trying to protect them, or at least they thought all had died. This loss had opened up huge opportunities for those people who were not alpha Furyans but wished to rise out of nothingness to rule the planet. People like Elder Declan.
He had risen quickly through the ranks; his father had been an alpha Furyan, so he was greatly respected by association, and Declan encouraged the people's belief that he was a great war hero. He was one of the very few warriors who had survived the war, and he had told great, if untrue, stories of his contributions to the war. He never let it be known that he had actually been one of the first people to flee to the hills when the Necromongers had landed, and anyone who knew the truth either kept very quiet or mysteriously disappeared. Everyone now believed him to be very powerful; and if not an alpha Furyan, than close. He basked in this glory and made the most of it, quickly becoming the foremost Elder and holding onto his position with an iron clad fist.
And now, here was a man who might take it all away. "Well," Elder Declan thought, "I am not going to make it easy on him."
Tension was running high in the room. The six sitting Elders looked nervous or worried, though there were a couple Elders who seemed more excited than upset at the possibility of a remaining alpha Furyan. Shirah was twisting her hands silently, and Kyra was standing tense; glancing continuously around the room as though expecting to be ambushed. Riddick alone appeared calm; his legs were slightly spread and his arms were crossed, every muscled appeared relaxed. He looked the Elders straight in their eyes from behind his goggles: His whole attitude was that of fearlessness and one who was completely unimpressed.
"So…You claim to be an alpha Furyan." Elder Declan said, choosing to ignore the fact that it had been already proven that Riddick was, indeed, an alpha Furyan; and Riddick had, in fact, never claimed anything of the sort. It had been Shirah who had made the assertion.
Riddick remained silent, waiting for the Elder to finish what it was he going to say.
Riddick's confident silence did nothing to better Elder Declan's mood. "You show up out of nowhere, making claims, and expecting us to let you lead our people? When we know nothing about you and for all we know could do great harm to the people that we seven have protected and served for so long?" He said accusingly, gesturing to the other Elders, many of who were nodding and making sounds of agreement.
Riddick stood still but cocked his head slightly to the side as though pondering something. He knew what the Elder was doing; he was playing to the crowd, egging on an invisible audience; attempting to bluster his way into making the other Elders and anyone who was listening or would hear about these proceedings later believe that he was sincerely looking out for their best interests. "Did I make any claims to your people?" He said softly, questioningly, looking Elder Declan right in the eye. He saw the other Elders glancing amongst themselves uncomfortably.
"Now, Elder, who said I wanted to lead your people?" He asked as though speaking to a young child; his voice remained soft, rumbling deep his chest.
Elder Declan stood still, his mouth opening and closing slightly as he tried to think of an answer. "You're right. You don't know me, and I doubt you ever will." Riddick said coldly, threateningly. He turned to Kyra and together they left the capitol building calmly, leaving complete disbelief and turmoil behind them.
As they left the building and headed back to their room Kyra looked up at Riddick and asked, "Now what?"
He heard something in her tone that made him stop and look down at her.
She wanted to stay.
He could hear it in her voice. She was asking because, though she would follow him where ever he went, she wanted to stay. She enjoyed being on planet and not having mercs breathing down their necks, and she wanted to learn about her roots; where her father had come from.
He stood there for a moment, the battle in his head from the night before starting anew. "Let's walk." He said turning back towards the city streets. He needed the time to think.
They walked through the streets, hand in hand. The loose intertwining of their fingers speaking volumes about their relationship, no strings attached because no strings were needed: They belonged to each other. The two of them turned many heads as they walked by; both because they were newcomers and the rumors were flying endlessly about them around the city, but also they were very noticeable. They were both…different somehow… powerful. They had a 'don't fuck with me, and I won't fuck with you' attitude which made everyone stay well out of their way as they passed.
As they walked, they left the city center and headed for the southern outskirts and back streets of the town. The city became darker and dirtier the farther out they went, the holes in the street were left unfilled and many of the walls were still cracked. Children played with sticks and rocks outside of small houses in dirty, ragged clothing. Old men and women of all ages walked by, avoiding eye contact, and their backs bent from endless hard work and a hopeless life.
Riddick and Kyra looked around in surprise at the state of the people and the buildings which had obviously once been beautiful and well tended. They had been led to believe by the Elders and that everything was fine on Furya and that in this city the people were prospering and happy. From the looks of it, the truth was far from it.
Ahead of them in a wide intersection, people had set up grungy boxes and tables, selling half rotten produce and mended clothing. Anger was building slowly in both Riddick and Kyra. "Shit, 'protected and served' my ass, these people are starving." Kyra thought, and glanced up at Riddick, but his face was unreadable.
"Riddick…" Kyra said suddenly, looking at a group of men jogging down a side street coming towards them. They looked like the same group of men who had escorted the three of them to the capitol building when they first came into town. They were heading toward the group of ragged civilians that were bartering in the intersection.
Riddick pulled Kyra back behind him and backed up against a crumbling wall, his arm holding back against it as well. They watched as the men began shouting at the civilians who quickly scattered down the other three streets, one of which was the street Riddick and Kyra were on, trying to carry as much of the produce as they could with them. The men quickly began scrambling about, trying to get a hold of any of the fleeing men, women, and children they could. Several drew wicked looking whips from their belts and began cracking them at people, attempting to round them up like livestock into a group. "What the fuck, Riddick!?" Kyra exclaimed as she watched people run past them, fear etched on their faces.
They watched as the chaos died down when most of the people escaped and disappeared from sight, and the group of men closed in on the few that they had caught. There appeared to be no more than four, surrounded by ten or eleven men; all brandishing whips. The men were yelling obscenities and cracking their whips at the four people they had caught, several began to laugh when a woman got hit with a stray lash of the whip and screamed.
"Fuck them!" Kyra spat, anger and hatred overflowing as she struggled to get free of Riddick's restraining arm. "Riddick, damn it, let me go! Look at what they are doing!"
Glancing back at her, Riddick understood how she felt; the cruelty that these men were displaying reminded him of many of the assholes he had met, and he was sure that Kyra felt the same way. But he couldn't let her go. He didn't want her getting caught up in this mess and hurt.
Suddenly through the yells Kyra and Riddick heard the sound of a small child crying. Both of their eyes flew back to the scene before them. The group of captives had shifted and they could now see a little girl in the center of the group huddled down by their feet; her arms were hugging her knees to her chest as she was jostled and pushed by the adults all around her. "Shit." Kyra breathed. Every ounce of her being wished she could run over there and help that poor little girl. She felt Riddick's arm go rock hard against her when he saw the girl as well, and as they continued to watch she felt it beginning to vibrate with suppressed tension.
The guards also had spotted the little girl and with a shout one of them pushed into the group, grabbed the girl and jerked her up roughly, hardly letting her feet touch the ground as he yanked her out of the group. He laughed as the little girl began screaming, her father was screaming as well; straining against the men trying to reach her but they brutally beat him back.
As the man toyed with her, laughing, the little girl struggled with all her strength. Then, with a speed that shocked all those around, the little girl lashed out and kicked the man who was holding her right in the groin. He swore violently and let her go as he grabbed at himself and tried to breathe. The rest of the men were no longer laughing, one broke off and grabbed the girl viciously by her hair, shaking her and holding her in place before she could escape.
The injured man regained control of his limbs and stepped forward lifting his whip. He looked down at the little girl with a murderous expression on his face.
Suddenly, it was gone.
His whole head had seemingly vanished, and his body crumpled heavily to the ground, landing on top of the missing head.
As one all eyes looked back up from the decapitated body and saw a tall man dressed all in black. Goggles were covering his eyes and a blue mark was glowing softly on his wide chest. Long, curved knives were held loosely, carelessly in both hands; clean, with no trace of blood on them from being passed so quickly through the man's neck.
Instantly, the other men drew their weapons preparing to fight.