Author's Note: People ask why I keep being mean to the characters. My answer's already been given in the story. "Where Dragons walk, misery follows." And it's just going to get worse for Ryu. There are some quotes later in this chapter that refer to the story Ryu tells Nina back in Chapter Four. See? Everything ties back together! Yay for far-reaching plot twists, nuances, and story intricacies. Stay on the lookout for more of them.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Aruhamel
Bow lay dead.
His blood stained the ruined streets.
Amidst the fires of destruction, a life—only one among many on this dark night—faded into nothingness.
But the death of Bow Doggie had already become so much more than just another statistic.
The Dragon drew in a ragged breath.
Arisen from the dead, like an avenging angel, the Dragon lifted its battered form, eyes ablaze like burning coals. The rage within those orbs, blind and immeasurable, struck terror into the Demon Dragon, Barubary.
"This is the power of the Destined Child?" he murmured, his terrible voice quaking.
But the Dragon was incapable of mortal speech, for it was a creature of instinct, of destruction—of godliness. And not even Barubary, one of the strongest of the demon lords, could compare to the power of a God.
The Dragon charged forth, maddened with bloodlust, driven by pure instinct, claws raking, wings batting, tail thrashing. Barubary sought to defend, sought to counter—but against the fury of the most ancient and most terrifying of Gods, the Demon Dragon could only founder in despair. Black ichor split upon the ground as long gashes tore Barubary's flesh.
Then Barubary fell. With his last breath, he growled defiantly, "Deathevan will not fall to you, Dragon God! Though I die, my master will rule this world!"
But the Dragon was a creature beyond the thoughts of mortal tongues. It did not understand the feeble wailing of even a demon lord. For the demon was mortal and it could die; the Dragon lived beyond death. It looked upon the fallen demon dispassionately, the rage subsiding. The fury abated. But the Dragon was not yet finished, for Barubary yet drew breath, as thin and ragged as it was.
The Dragon inhaled.
And then there was another breath of fire.
In the aftermath, Ryu knelt by the body of his dying friend. Though he himself was horribly wounded—the injuries of the Dragon carried on to his human form—the ranger felt no pain, for one look upon the torn body of Bow Doggie was enough to dispel any complaints for his own injuries.
"Can't…feel my legs anymore," Bow murmured, blood running out of the corner of his lips. He could not turn his head, so he did not see the gaping hole in his belly and the shattered base of what used to be his spine. "Hey…I think I managed to shut off the water pump this time," he said with a chuckle.
Ryu could say nothing. He just cried silently and cradled Bow's head in his lap.
"This is a way to go, isn't it, buddy? We had some pretty close calls…I guess it's just karma that it all catches up…Been too lucky in life, I guess. About…about time…."
The life faded from his eyes. The head lolled over. He was gone.
"And so we inter a most valuable friend, a man who's greatest virtue was finding joy in any situation, no matter how grim or how stark the day. Our friend, Bow Doggie, who always found the silver lining in even the darkest of clouds."
Rand had been the one to write the speech for the wake. But the words seemed hollow; what happiness or comfort could be found on such a day?
They buried Bow in a mausoleum that Kilgore donated; the noblemen felt responsible for bringing Bow into Hometown in the first place, and while Ryu felt the gift was pretentious, he did not argue the point. Bow deserved a fitting grave.
The memorial service was held by Rand and a few of the people from Township, who came to Hometown for the wake. After the words Barubary had spoken concerning Saint Eva and his master that shared so similar a name, none in the party wanted to trust a funeral to a cleric of the Church. But Ryu did not stay long at even Bow's wake.
The ranger left as soon as the body was interred. For a very long time, Ryu had worked alone, relying on no one except Bow. It was only fitting that he mourn his friend alone. In any case, watching the casket—thankfully closed, for none had been able to repair the damage Barubary had inflicted on the mutilated corpse—had been far too much to ask of the sullen ranger.
But the mental image of the casket and the shattered thing within it kept on pressing against his thoughts. Ryu found himself haunted by the torn belly, the numbed legs, the blood-flecked lips. And, invariably, he started to think back through all the adventures that he and Bow had been though—adventures that led to the moment of the Grass Runner's death.
Ryu came to a bar that he and Bow used to frequent while acting as the Ranger Guild's apprentices. The grungy place had not changed in the six months he had spent chasing Yua across half the world. Feeling that this place was as close to a true memorial that Bow could ask for, Ryu entered and sat at his customary stool by the bar. It felt empty despite the hearty patronage; the seat next to the ranger lay painfully empty.
He ordered the same drinks that they always drank—in double portion. The ranger drained both servings without even tasting the potent brews. It was, in a simple way, the proper memorial for a greedy, upbeat, carefree skirt-chaser.
"And you'd always order another round, even after I finished," he murmured quietly, hailing the bartender for another flagon. He lifted the refilled container to his lips. "To you, my friend."
That last drink gave him a pounding headache. The vertigo only encouraged him to lay down his head on the bar. If he had a mirror, he would have seen bloodshot eyes and a nose red from drunkenness. He was quite a sight, a ranger seemingly down on his luck, with a sour countenance. Unsurprisingly, people gave him a wide berth. Ryu welcomed it. He wanted to be alone.
"It isn't good to be alone," came a soft and caring voice. Nina.
He did not look at her. She, with her empathy and understanding nature, was the last person he wanted to see. He did not want to share his pain with anyone else; he needed to mourn—he needed to be alone.
"Ryu, I won't pretend to understand what you must be feeling right now, but I'm here if you want to talk. And I think you need to talk to someone. Bow was a dear friend to you…it'll help you heal if you—"
"Go away," he snapped harshly. She backed away, startled and hurt. He did not relent. "I don't want to heal, Nina. I want to feel this gaping hole in me. I want to keep it there."
Nina warily ventured, "Why?"
"Because it reminds me of what I am! I bring misery wherever I go. You almost drowned. Sten lost an ear. And it kept getting worse. Now my best friend in the whole world is dead. And it's because I couldn't save him!"
Ryu pounded his fist on the bar, shattering it. The other patrons turned to stare; the bartender wanted to intervene, but after that display of strength, the bartender did not dare to call the bouncers.
But the ranger was not paying any of them any attention. "What's the point of this power in me, Nina, if I can't save the people I care about? Next time, you or Katt might end up dead, or even Yua. I…I'm so fucking useless!" He grabbed the bar and tore it right out of its fixtures, hurling it into the rack of bottles and ales on the wall. Wood and glass shattered ominously.
And a drunken and melancholy Ryu wobbled out of the stunned establishment, leaving Nina silent in his wake.
Ryu had no idea where he was going. Plodding one step at a time, he wandered aimlessly through the ruined streets of Hometown. All around him were shattered buildings and grim faces. It had started to rain, the water mixing with the ashes and soot to make everything oily and muddy. Despair rankled in the air like an oppressive weight.
It was during this nightly walk, confused and drenched, that the ranger stumbled into a dark and loathsome figure, hidden in shadow and radiating malice. In his stupor, Ryu could only make out burning red eyes…and the sensation of a clawed hand wrapping around his neck.
"I could not believe it, unless I had witnessed it myself," hissed the dark figure, "but you, the stripling Destined Child, actually defeated Barubary. Indeed, you are powerful, a creature to be reckoned with and watched closely. But what is this? You can barely stand and you reek of alcohol. This is the mortal who bested Barubary? This is the mortal who's memories I stole? What a pitiful thing you have become!"
Ryu felt pain shoot up his back as he was thrown into a wall.
"But no matter," continued the figure, "for I, Aruhamel, Lord of Nightmare, will send you the worst torments Hell has to offer. You will have the punishment of eternal waking!" The clawed hand gripped Ryu's face and squeezed, a burning, fiery touch. "Witness, Destined Child, your nightmare!"
Katt, Sten, and Yua had not been idle in the aftermath of Barubary's rampage. They, along with the other survivors, had organized a relief center from the burnt-out remains of Trout's house, the largest in the city. Kilgore's wealth went into establishing supply lines from Township and Corsair, funneling in needed food and medicines for the survivors.
Amidst the chaos were Katt, Sten, and Yua, taking the lead and ensuring that everyone got their fair share of the relief. Katt had to crack a few heads belonging to greedy or shady characters. Sten organized a militia to police the people. Even Yua played a role, gathering all the able men and women and sending them out on hunts for more food and resources. Workers and carpenters from Township, led by Rand, arrived that morning, bearing with them dried meats and lumber. Already rebuilding was underway. All in all, the relief effort was successful.
But through it all, Ryu had remained aloof and apart. They had seen little of the blue-haired ranger, and Katt had started to worry. Perhaps it was a lover's premonition, but when a knock came on her door that evening, the Woren immediately felt a pang of dread.
Beyond the door was Nina, struggling to carry a comatose Ryu in her arms.
"What happened?" Katt cried, easily hefting the heavy ranger onto a nearby cot.
"I don't know," Nina said honestly. She too, was worried sick over Ryu. She hastily explained, "After Bow's memorial service, he went on a drinking binge. I found him in an alley, passed out. I tried to wake him up, but he's not responding—and he feels so cold, like he's dead! This isn't a stupor, Katt. Something's really wrong with him!"
Katt laid a damp cloth on Ryu's forehead and covered him with a blanket. "Call up Sten and Yua," she said. "Have them bring up some of the medicines. I…I don't know what kinds; I'm not a doctor. Um, maybe some smelling salts will wake him up?"
"Right," Nina agreed breathlessly, "smelling salts. Yes, that'll do the trick; I'm sure of it." She rushed out of the room with all speed, leaving Katt alone with the comatose ranger.
In the wake of nightmare, Ryu stirred; his brows knitted painfully and his lips curled into a snarl. Surely some inner demon was waging a war against the stalwart ranger. And all Katt could do was watch. She absently brushed a hand across his brow, pushing the blue locks aside.
"Come back to us," she quietly prayed.
"Ryu! Ryu!"
Ryu Bateson awoke with a start and looked around uncertainly. Somehow, everything seemed…bigger. And alien, as well. No, that was not quite right. Everything was the same—it was he who was smaller!
He looked at the clothes he wore, at the bed he was lying in: coarse woolen shirt, soft linen sheets. And his hands! They were so small, so delicate, unmarred by a swordsman's calluses or the scars of a hundred fights.
His hands were that of a child.
"Ryu! Could you come down?"
It was a familiar voice, but one he was sure he had not heard in years…but those years never existed, for he was a child—not an adult. And this is a voice he knew well. Ryu got out of bed, excited and exuberant, and ran down the steps to see his father.
A singular thought ran through his young mind: Otousan is still with me! But that thought was soon changed, for otousan had never really left him: Coming, otousan, coming! After all, he always came down whenever his father called for him. He was eleven years old; he was a big boy and could do a man's work. Whenever his father called, it was to do a man's work. And so he came down.
"Ah, there you are," Ganer Bateson said with a smile that brightened the brown beard of his face. Though it had started to take on some salt-and-pepper, the facial growth was still thick. Ryu could not imagine his father without it. Ganer rested a strong hand on his shoulder. "Ryu, Yua's gone off again. Could you find her for me? I've a little bit of work to do here awhile yet. When you find her, we'll have breakfast and morning prayers."
Ryu nodded emphatically and ran out the door. He already knew where to look for his little sister. Yua always went to that place whenever she could. So Ryu went to the far end of the village and parted the thick grasses at forest's edge. Any other child might have been reluctant to enter the shady wood, but Ryu had traversed its hidden paths many times. It was like a second home to him. Indeed, he felt…calmer, stronger in the glades of this particular forest. It was as if warm, loving hands wrapped around him, stilling his fears and infusing him with courage.
But something felt odd this day, for the calming influence of the land was not there. Ryu felt alone—desperately, horribly alone.
"Yua?" Ryu called meekly and uncertainly, feeling a tremble of fear in his stomach. He made his way through the thick grass and escaped the suddenly-oppressive wood, stumbling onto the dirt paths leading to the caves and the sleeping dragon that guarded them.
Somehow, the boy felt as if he had lived through these events before, for he half-expected to find Yua at the dragon's head…and he kept looking over his shoulder, as if expecting some vicious monster to jump out of the grass at him. But there was no monster and, more surprisingly, Yua was not by the dragon.
"Yua?" Ryu called again, growing truly worried. Yua always went to the dragon. Always. "Yua!" he shouted frantically. "Yua, where are you? Yua!"
"You will not find her here, Destined Child."
The boy spun, coming face to face with Barubary—somehow, he knew the name of the creature, though he was sure he had never seen it before.
"We have met, Destined Child," assured the Demon Dragon, "you simply play the role of the simpleton that is demanded of you, and, therefore, you do not remember. But that is neither there nor here." The monster slithered toward the boy, its great bulk truly terrifying to behold. Ryu fell on his rump and tried to scuttle away—but he was held fast by the evil gleam in Barubary's eyes.
"There is nowhere to run, Destined Child," the Demon Dragon hissed maliciously. "There is no sword blade, no Dragon to aid you. There is no Bow Doggie to take my eye."
Bow Doggie.
"Bow! You'll pay for what you did to Bow!" Ryu shouted angrily, without even knowing why. He had never heard of a Bow Doggie before. But somehow…like how he knew Barubary's name…he knew Bow Doggie. Ryu shook his head, focusing on the moment. "Where's Yua, monster?" he demanded.
"Gone," Barubary said tauntingly. "Gone—because you lost her."
Lost her. I lost her.
Ryu gripped his temples, for suddenly a throbbing, encapsulating pain shot through his brain. He cried out and fell to his knees.
…You see, the little sister told the little boy to sleep in the mountains so that he could meet his mother, too. But when he woke up, he couldn't find his father or sister anywhere, no matter how hard he looked…
Ryu did not know where that memory came from. It did not feel like a memory from his mind…but seemingly that of someone else. Someone older. But he pushed those thoughts aside. He clenched his teeth and growled, "Where…is…Yua?" But another stab of pain turned the last syllables into an incomprehensible gurgle.
"Pitiful, Destined Child," Barubary rumbled mockingly. "You can't even make sense of reality anymore. You truly are a pitiful sight."
…He never stopped looking for them. He grew up, but he never forgot them…So he keeps looking, even if he can only find them in his dreams…
Dreams…dreams…. Dreams!
And then it dawned on him. The pain faded away instantly. Ryu stood up—and when he looked at his hands, they were the slender, strong hands that he recognized. A fighter's hands. "A dream," he said simply, confidently, "this is a dream. And Yua is safe; I found her again." He pointed defiantly at Barubary, giving the Demon Dragon a look of unfathomable loathing. "And you're dead."
At those words, Barubary melted away. In his place as a man cloaked in shadows, with red eyes like crimson, bloody pinpricks staring out menacingly.
"Who are you?" Ryu demanded coldly. "You obviously have power in dreams to have constructed this…this place."
"I constructed nothing," the figure said in a voice like wind over gravel. "This place is your memory. What you see here is what happened to you. But you remember little of it because I stole it from you." The figure swept a spindly hand; where its path traced, the air wavered and transformed. Soon, the forestland had become the town of Gate.
And Gate was being attacked.
Creatures the likes of which Ryu had never seen set homes to flame and butchered people in the streets. He saw Ganer, his father, fighting valiantly against the monsters, calling forth magical lightning and thunder to purge the world of the demonic beasts. And amidst the carnage was a single, beautiful, monumental woman, who held the invaders at bay with a simple gesture.
Valerie Bateson…his mother.
"Okasan," Ryu murmured. He suddenly turned on the shadowy figure. "Why don't I remember this? I would have remembered this attack!"
"Did I not already tell you, Destined Child? You do not remember because I stole it from you!" The figure grew, the shadows melted away. Where the spindly thing once stood was a nightmare. "I am Aruhamel, Lord of Nightmare! I have claimed the minds of countless beings—even the immortal Tree of Wisdom, Yggdrasil, is under my sway!"
A talon raked the air, pointing at the ranger. "And soon, so will the Destined Child."
Ryu bared his teeth and stood defiantly against the demon lord's proud words. "You demons talk too much," he said simply. His emerald eyes flashed once. When they flashed again, they were glowing bright red—but not the red of blood, like Aruhamel's. His was the red of fire.
"You keep on saying how you'll kill me," Ryu continued. With each breath he took, his eyes burned brighter and brighter. Red-glowing embers started to appear around him, floating up into the air, higher and higher. The air shimmered with heat, hummed with power. "You declare yourselves as if it should mean something to me. Guess what? It doesn't. Because I've killed a lot of you lately. And you're next on the list, Aruhamel."
There was the sound of wool and leather tearing. A long, fleshy tail sprouted from the seat of Ryu's trousers, slashing to and fro behind him. His boots were ripped apart as three-clawed feet ground into the earth, digging up divots of dirt. His gauntlets split open as his arms thickened and long, sharp talons grew out of his fingertips. And, most impressively, his shirt burst apart as a pair of massive, leathery wings erupted from his shoulder blades. Ryu gave the wings an experimental flap, letting blood flow through the newly-birthed veins.
Aruhamel looked on the transformation with unsuppressed awe. "This is the true power of the Destined Child," he breathed in terror. "Incredible—truly incredible! It was not the Dragon that we should have feared—no!—it was this creature, this warrior…God above, what have my machinations unleashed?"
Ryu's eyes were brilliant red as he gave Aruhamel a deadly glare. "You've unleashed your doom."