Hey guys, how's it going? Man, I've been driving myself insane lately. Damn teachers...Anyway, I'm here with another chapter for y'all! :D
Y'all know the drill by now: don't own, won't own. Sad, but true.
Welcome to Hell~I mean Fortuna!
Chapter 15-A Day in the life of Shawn.
As Shawn walked into his house, he was relieved to see his folks weren't there. It meant he'd have an easier time of getting to the place that was texted to him, a parkour gym called Concrete Amazon. Sighing, he went into the kitchen. He had no clue when he'd be able to eat again, so he made himself a sandwich and stole a can of beer from the fridge. Hey, after everything he'd been through, he figured he earned this one can of beer. So if one of his folks found out, they could suck it.
Half an hour late, he packed a few things he'd need, and cut his hair. It was getting pretty long, and it drove him nuts. Fifteen minutes after that, he was out of the house and in front of the area in question. As he walked in, what felt like a surging wave passed through him and time began to stand still. Seriously, this one dude looked like he was pulling out his wallet but he just stood there. Walking forward, Shawn came to realize that there was one fiery anomaly in this scene.
She looked like the race of female warriors for which the establishment was named. Scarlet hair in a high ponytail; with capris, sneakers, and a tank top that were all so dark a shade of red they almost looked black. Her skin was lightly tanned, as though she spent most of her time outside, and there was a tattoo of a sword on her upper left arm. This woman's back was turned to him, but she was well aware of his presence.
"About damn time you showed up, brat." She said curtly. Turning around, Shawn noticed that her eyes were a cornflower blue. Definitely a change from the glacial blue that the sons of Sparda had. "Now draw your sword, we don't have all day." She ordered.
"Who the fuck are you, and how the hell do you know about my sword?" Shawn asked, instantly suspicious. The strange woman scoffed before summoning a weapon that looked almost like Soul Edge.
"My name is Morrigan Pele, and I'm here to test your worth. Now I'll only say this one more time; Draw. Your damn. SWORD!" She said, punctuating her last words with a swing of her blade. A shockwave emanated from the blade, and it would have hurt like hell if Shawn didn't instinctively summon his blade to protect him.
"Fuck!" Was all he could say before he had to keep up his defense against Morrigan, who decided to charge at him with another onslaught.
The battle raged on. Shawn couldn't say for how long because, well, time was standing still. Just when he thought he had the upper hand, Morrigan tripped him with the back of her sword. Next thing he knew, he was on his back with a shoe on his stomach and a sword at his throat.
"You did alright, brat. But "alright" ain't gonna keep you alive in the near future." She said condescendingly as she hoisted the giant blade over her shoulder. Shawn struggled under her foot, but he cussed as it became clear that he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.
"What the fuck are you? And what do you want from me?" He demanded. Morrigan just stared at him. More specifically, at the sword lying only a few torturous inches from Shawn's reach.
"Does that thing even have a name yet?" She asked boredly. "I worked my ass off making that thing, so my baby had better have a name." Shawn blinked at her, and then looked at the blade.
"Reznov. Its name is Reznov." He said. Morrigan smiled and nodded her approval. Taking her foot off of him, the sword she held began to vanish in ribbons of flame.
"Good. Now to answer your question, brat…I've been brawling since before your great granddaddy was conceived. And we've been waiting a damn long time for this day." She said cryptically, walking off. "Come on, brat. We ain't got all day." Shawn scowled, sighing.
"Jesus, don't be afraid to say what you mean…" He grumbled as he put Reznov on his back. He followed her into her office, past the main gym area, and time returned to normal. It looked like a typical office; desk, chairs, bookshelf, filing cabinet, yadda yadda. Behind the chair Morrigan now sat in, there was a portrait of a female knight in scarlet armor with a sword raised high. In the picture, a battle between heaven and hell was about to begin. At the knight's side were three more knights, each clad in white, black, or ashen pale armor.
"Notice the painting, did you? It actually happened, you know. We would have left them to it, but when both sides started using humans…" she drifted off, looking nostalgic.
"Okay, what the hell is with this "we" shit?" Shawn asked, annoyed. Morrigan sighed, scrubbing her face with one hand.
"Look at that painting. Four people on horses, each wearing a different color of armor. Red, Black, White, and Pale." Shawn's expression matched how dumbfounded he felt. "Get it now? I am the Red Horseman in mortal form. A nephilim who has held back the end of all days since time immemorial. And you, Shawn…" Morrigan paused to take a breath. "Have been chosen by my Arm of the Horsemen to become my agent. An extension of my power to do my duty in places the other riders and I cannot reach."
This revelation made Shawn sit back in his chair. An agent of the mythical four horsemen? Him? Did that mean Keeley and Kate were agents as well? So many questions floated through his mind, yet somehow it all made sense. He was a relatively violent kid, making it kind of funny that he had friends like Kate and Keeley. What he didn't know was that it had been what allowed Reznov to accept him so quickly.
"You're saying you made Reznov? What else can you tell me?" He asked. Smiling, Morrigan nodded.
"Reznov is one of four Arms of the Horsemen. They will bind themselves to one person, and only one person, until that person is killed. Then another, usually the one who killed the first person, takes it up and continues what the previous one started." She explained. "We crafted them because we are bound to this place, this world. But the three of you aren't! And you acquired nearly all of the arms in the process! This is why we sent for you." Standing up, the redheaded nephilim walked over to the bookshelf. She took out a large, old-looking book and handed it to Shawn.
"What the fuck? A book?" He muttered, turning to a random page and looking at what it held. It was full of diagrams and sketches, all sorts of things involving alchemy and the art of war.
"While you're in this world, I'll be teaching you how to properly swing a sword. During those times, nephilim and other agents will be the only ones able to move about. Nobody will know the difference. When you're not in school or training, you're going to learn parkour as my student. We clear on that?" She said in a tone that left no room for debate. Shawn nodded, making her smile.
"Good. Now, this grimoire is going to stay with your friend Kate. For the time being, I want to see what you've got in the free-running department. Time to haul ass, brat. Double time!" She ordered. Nodding, Shawn got up and left the office. It was going to be a long afternoon.
Derp. (I've been saying that a lot lately, haha.) So, I had my first job interview last Wednesday and I'm pretty sure I botched it! Well, I'll be getting a call from the place within the next few days. Hopefully. Haha.
Thank you all for the reviews and for following the story thus far, I appreciate it a TON. I kid you not. It makes me happy to hear what you guys have to say, even when I'm down.
See you guys next week! I love you all! (In the friend kind of way.)