Haven City, sometime before "Deny Thy Father…"
The masked racer yanked the wheel round a hairpin turn, narrowly avoiding a devastating attack from his opponent. Keeping his heartbeat calm using the meditative methods he'd grown up with, he slammed on the accelerator so hard he thought he would crack it – and zoomed over the thick white-and-black chequered rectangle spanning the width of the track.
At the top of the Stadium spectator seating with other City leaders, Archduchess Roah kept her icy eyes on this racer with interest. She had seen him race before, following the annual Eco Cup with as keen an interest as the other City leaders. Her husband Zainen managed their affairs (and that brat of a daughter) whilst she attended as the Haven representative. She had spoken to many people about this mysterious racer; the one whom everybody knew was male but never removed his helmet. All anyone knew about him was that he was a world-class champion, having just claimed his seventh consecutive Grand Slam in a row – that is, winning all four Eco Cups seven years in a row – and he was from Allabinah.
"Hmm…" she said out loud, eyes narrowing. A cold wind found its way to her, tousling her long red hair. I must speak to this stranger.
~x~
"Hey, nice going, Saldam!" one of the Allabinan's team of mechanics yelled as he finally broke away from the world's media and into the serenity of his garage. The man laughed his thanks, too exhausted to talk.
Once in the safety of his garage, he removed the helmet and shook his head, letting his wavy blue hair fly free for the first time in half an hour since he put the helmet on, clamping the visor down and walking towards his vehicle.
Suddenly, a familiar, silky voice reached his ears.
"Hey, big racer. Fancy sliding into my car…?"
"Ross?" he said cautiously, gently. He had suffered many illusions in the years since his youngest child was born. He hoped this one was not one of them.
"Turn around," the woman's voice purred huskily. "Look at me…"
"Rossie…please…I am tired today…"
He turned around, his heart falling when he saw there was nobody there. He sighed dejectedly, taking his glove off, twisting the ring on his middle finger. He knew he couldn't continue participating for very long. His children – aged five, twenty months and six months respectively – had already lost their mother. They did not need to lose their father too, in some insane sport that was forbidden to somebody of his...nature and present occupation anyway.
Rossanna is not returning, Saldam, he told himself, forcing himself to confront the truth. She's dead, poisoned by one of the leaders present at this event.
Cold hard words had never prevented him from feeling the lack of her comforting presence these past six months.
"Saldam?"
Forcing down the lump that had formed in his throat, the racer addressed the voice that had called his name. "Yes?"
"It's…the Archduchess of Haven," the man who had called him answered, suddenly appearing into view and looking rather regretful. "She asked for you,"
Saldam frowned. "For me, Kahl?"
The one he addressed as Kahl – a very close friend from his schooldays – nodded. "Think she wants to know who you are, that kind of thing,"
The normally-laid-back racer felt his blood boil to volcanic temperatures. "Then she will," he said, voice full of anger. "She will know."
Kahl frowned. "You sure that's safe? I mean…Oreyn, Kieron, Jayelle…what about them? You know what the Archduchess does to her en – "
"Are you believing those desert whispers again, Kahl?" the racer snapped, jamming on his helmet again. "Fine. I will meet her, but rest assured she will not know me. Not unless she can speak fluent Allabinan…"
~x~
The Haven City Leader was getting impatient, not to mention cold. Not for the first time, she wondered why the races were always held in Winter, as opposed to the significantly warmer climate of Autumn, or even Summer.
"He is coming, Ma'am," someone suddenly spoke in front of her. "He won't be a minute,"
"Fine!" she snapped, anxiety growing. Even if he tells me nothing, I will simply read his mind, she reassured herself, relaxing just as the tall, thin, helmet-clad racer approached her. She rearranged her face into that of a pleasant smile, or at least, the kind of smile her husband had taught her.
"Greetings, racer. Congratulations on your win. I understand it's your seventh consecutive one, am I right?"
No answer from the mysterious man in front of her, not even a nod or head-shake to confirm or deny her query. Roah let an irritated sigh escape from her mouth.
"If you don't answer I will only have to take what I've heard as the truth,"
"I'll never answer you, bitch," he answered in a language Roah recognised as Allabinan, but did not fully understand.
"Excuse me? Do you speak any English at all?"
"Even if I did, you would never answer me!" Saldam resisted the urge to open his visor and let cool, fresh air flow into his helmet. Tilting his chin, he angled the opening of the helmet below his chin, allowing a little more cold air to flow in. He had a feeling he would need it.
"You!" Roah commanded the man next to the masked racer, who had been with him the whole time. "Do you understand what this man says?"
"Lie for me, Kahl," the racer implored his right-hand man. "Don't translate what I truly say for her,"
"Will do," the other Allabinan answered, turning to the Haven City leader and drawing a deep breath. "He says that what you say is the truth, but he would rather not reveal his identity for the sake of his family,"
"He would not…?" Roah echoed. "Well, that's understandable…"
"You and I have unfinished business, Roah," Saldam said in what he attempted at a casual, conversational tone, longing to shout the words, to grab the dictatress, to let his Dark side take over and tear her to pieces. "You killed my mother, took my sister, decimated my family – "
"…I know how invasive the media can be…"
"You poisoned my wife and took a mother from her children!"
"…so I suspect it is easier to keep the helmet on." Roah's lips curved further. "But as you see, there are no journalists around…no cameras…no microphones." She widened her green eyes. "Won't you remove your helmet for me?"
"Dream on, cunt. You are going to die, and I hope that it will be at my hand…"
Kahl cut in, laying a hand on Saldam's shoulder. "He politely and respectfully refuses. He does not desire to remove his helmet to anyone, not even to the highest City Leaders."
Suppressing a sigh, Roah focused on the helmet that represented the man's head, attempting to probe into his mind. She thought she had gotten far when suddenly, something almost punched her, forcing her back and out of the Allabinan's mind.
"Well…" she said, her voice shaking after that little experience. It was the first time she had been refused with such force, and she knew it showed on her face. With the taste of bitterness, she forced out the polite and customary goodbyes. "Thankyou, mystery racer. I wish you luck in your future endeavours."
The Allabinans watched her walk away, noticing the feeling of insult in her body language. When she had climbed into her vehicle and, indeed, when the vehicle had taken off, both men turned away, Kahl walking around to face the racer, continuing to speak in Allabinan.
"You okay there?" he asked. "I thought you were going to break her face at one point…"
Breathing deeply, the racer snapped open his visor, ensuring he could see the other man. "I was…I…I wish…" His breath shook. "That woman has destroyed my family. I want revenge but I feel…I feel that I am not the one who will take it." He blinked, the city lights catching the tears in the corners of his eyes. "Mar damn it…I will not be the one who takes revenge for our family, and…and I want to…so much…"
Snapping the visor back on, he brushed past his right-hand man, fighting emotion, taking long strides back to his garage.