Infinity Blade: Aftermath

by RytheTheRecondite

With the Worker of Secrets defeated, the realms of Pangea has prospered. But when a mysterious warrior by the title of Iron Hunter appears in their town, two teenagers, Janus and Gene find themselves deep within a world of myths and magic. Now Janus and Gene must seek the help of their family's ancient enemy, and unravel the truth about the father that abandoned them.

11. The Iron Hunter

PART TWO

1 The Iron Hunter

If there was something else the robe of the antique dealer concealed other than his hawk like features, it was definitely his strength. Now as his arms came into view, Genesis realized that the old man wasn't so withered and boney after all. "I'm sorry for taking up your time." She repeated. But the grip on her wrist neither strengthened nor loosened. "On the second thought, I believe we can still come to an agreement. You get the ring, and I get what I want." He was using that smooth, reassuring voice again. But there was a gleam in his eyes that Genesis didn't like. "It'll be a win win." He continued, making her gulp. She turned, frantically, but the stranger was nowhere to be seen.

"Never let them see your fear." Elmek's voice echoed in her head. She stood as rigid as she could, heart pounding but her breathing controlled and even. Shifting her one free arm slightly so that her hand was out of his field of vision, she brushed the tip of her thumb against Tidal Wave, a ring of only inferior power. Heat was beginning to radiate from it. It was ready, ready to blast the antique dealer with, if not very strong, a distracting current of water.

So was she.

"Girls shouldn't play around with something like this." She watched as the antique dealer loosened the straps of her wrist guard. "You want this?" Asked Genesis, relief swept over her. She relaxed a little. "I don't understand," She let him slip off her wrist guard. "It's just a plain piece of metal. Nothing more."

"Take it, or leave it." The antique dealer was leaning back in his chair again.

Just give him the damn piece of metal and be out of this place. Her instincts were telling her to leave. Her experience with this dark alley were limited, and she didn't like the environment here.

It was a summer day, three years ago. "Where's your bracer?" Asked 13-year-old Janus. "I donno!" She replied, 11 at that time. She remembered Jan taking off his own and shoving it into her hands. "Take mine." He had said, running off before she could protest. And she remembered doing archery, remembered seeing Jan do archery, the bowstring slamming like a whip against the bare skin of his arm. She remembered seeing Jan go to bed that night, his left arm outside the covers and it was crisscrossed with red colored welts.

It wasn't that summer day three years ago, but this moment as Genesis stood inside a dimly lit antique shop in that dark and narrow alleyway, and she made her decision.

"I'm sorry. No." However, the antique dealer made no move to give her back the bracer, a twinge of doubt crossed her mind. Maybe he wasn't planning on giving it back. "I'm sorry," She tried again, "It means much to me, I can't trade with you."

"Take it. Or leave." The eyes of the antique dealer narrowed.

"Give it back." Genesis didn't know where the wit had come from, but something in her had snapped and she wanted her bracer back. "You play with my patience, girl!" A curved blade slipped out from the antique dealer's long sleeve and already it was slashing in a deadly arc. Genesis jumped back as though she had been bitten. The right sleeve of her shirt was cut open, and red was beginning to spread. Instinctively, her left hand went up to shield her wounded shoulder. She winced.

The stranger watched all this wordlessly. "To hell with the trade!" The antique dealer growled, reaching for the girl, and the stranger raised his weapon. "I'd be getting a good price out off just you yourself!" It was the antique dealer's last argument on the matter.

Light flashed in the dimly lit store and then there was the deafening crack. The antique dealer was launched backwards as by an invisible force against the cobblestone wall, spraying pieces of broken skull and its watery contents everywhere. The antique dealer's body collapsed onto his chair, headless.

Genesis stood wiping brain off her face, dazed. It was the armored stranger, and he was clipping a weapon that she had never seen before onto a buckle on his belt. It looked like a crossbow but with the bow piece removed, and she could see no bolts. He threw something at her, it was the ring. Before Genesis could say anything, he bowed. In contract to the ancient gear he wore, his voice was young.

"I am Blithe de Florian the Iron Hunter of House de Florian. Descendant of Torren de Florian and wielder of Torren's legacy." Then he added:"Sorry about the mess."