And this is chapter three. Thanks go to Flightfoot, My name is of no concern, Burai Stelar, Silverking32, Kamen Rider Ebon, DaniPotterLovesGod, SkyWarrior2, and Imagination Knight for reviewing last chapter!
Chapter Three: Meetings
Blue eyes glittered in the light of the sun. Their owner smiled, looking at the people watching him and his companions with a mixture of awe and excitement. He nodded to them and waved. They obviously haven't sided with the Dark Army, he thought as he looked over them. Or, he added silently as he looked at their glowing eyes, they simply have respect for all Keybladers. It was understandable, since they were supposed to be the protectors of the world, but the thought of anyone showing respect to a resident of the darkness…he shivered involuntarily.
He shook himself out of his thoughts. "Come on," he said, leading the way forward, sunlight glittering off the small plates that stored his armor. "We can't forget why we're here."
"Yes, sir," the Keybladers behind him responded.
The reason they were here, of course, was to win over the town. They had to; if they didn't, the fiends of the Dark Army might. They couldn't let that happen.
"Sir, I heard some…news you might want to hear."
The blue-eyed Keyblader started at the sound of a voice in his ear. "And that is?" he asked, feeling slightly frustrated at having his focus disrupted.
The Keyblader brought a girl forward; one with auburn hair and glittering blue eyes. She blinked in surprise when she saw him. "You're they're leader? But…you're my age."
"I'm a general," he corrected her, a small smile tugging on his lips.
The Keyblader beside her began to speak. "This girl-"
"Mala," she corrected instantly.
"-Mala said she saw…him."
The blue-eyed general froze. "W-what?" he stammered. He eyed her with surprise glittering in the depths of his blue eyes.
She looked puzzled at his response. "Why do you look so freaked out? It's not that big a deal…I just said I met a guy named Gillick who didn't like Keybladers." She shrugged. "I didn't really get it, either."
He was having trouble thinking. He…was here? "Trevor, sir, are your alright?"
The boy shook his head in an attempt to clear it. "Yes…yes, I'm fine." He turned his gaze back before him. "Come on; we still have a job to do." His mind, however, remained on Gillick. My brother…what are you doing?
Darkness had begun to settle over the land when Gillick found himself in a small town in a relatively barren landscape. He scrunched his eyes against the dust that blew in his face. At least I found somewhere to shelter, he thought in a vain attempt to retain some optimism. He continued forward into the town until he found an inn, which he quickly entered.
The man at the counter looked up at his approach. "Good evening, sir," the man said. "What can I do for you?"
"A room and some food," Gillick replied brusquely. "And don't call me sir."
The man didn't seem put off by his attitude; he probably got it quite a bit from other costumers he received. "Of course." He extended his hand, and Gillick grudgingly placed the required amount of munny within his open palm, the coins exchanged for a small key hanging off a wooden card.
As he sat down at a table, he quickly counted the amount of munny he still had left. He grimaced. I'll have to find some jobs soon. He'd never really been fond of the process. He considered looking into mercenary work again, like he had the last few times, but he was never one for being told what to do. He snorted. Maybe there are a few criminals I can collect bounties on.
"Did you hear about what's happened a few towns over?"
Gillick's ears picked up the snippet of conversation. He instinctively tuned into it, keeping a blank face so as not to reveal that he was eavesdropping. "Yeah; those Light Army scum got another town on their side," a new voice replied.
So, they're aligned with the Dark Army, he thought, closing his amber eyes. The Light Army and the Dark Army; two groups of Keybladers who were always fighting with each other, trying to win over people to their side and thus eliminate the other from the world. He snorted. The bastards should both just disappear.
He opened his eyes at a dry cough. He looked up, and saw the man that had been standing behind the counter with a bowl in his hand. Seeing he'd gotten his costumer's attention, he handed him the broth. Gillick nodded to him, then turned away.
He'd hoped to be able to eat peacefully and head up the steps to his room and sleep…or at least attempt to. However, he was frustrated to find that would not be the case. "Hey, stranger!"
His eyes narrowed immediately. Ignore them and maybe they'll go away. He jerked at a prod in his shoulder. "What?" he snapped, whipping around to look at the owner of the voice.
The man was looking at him with a sly smile. Lurking in his eyes was the light of challenge. He knew the type. "That's a nice sword you got," the man said, indicating the weapon strapped across his back.
Gillick turned away from him. "Don't even think about it; you won't win."
"Who says I was going to challenge you?" the man spluttered.
"Your eyes, genius."
"Oh?" The man walked around so that he stood in front of the table Gillick sat at. He slid a knife out of his sleeve and flipped it idly. "And what would you do if I did this?" Without warning, he lunged the weapon in his hand forward.
Gillick caught his hand with one of his own, effectively stopping the advance of the weapon. His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "Don't test me."
The man seemed surprised he could stop his strike so easily, and his face contorted into a frown. "Or what?"
He didn't bother explaining with words; instead, he jerked the hand that still held the his opponent's knife hand rapidly towards his opposite side, driving it down so that the weapon stuck into the table. He slid out of his seat, dragging one leg forward so that it dragged his opponent's out from under him. As the man fell, he jerked his sword out of its scabbard and slammed the flat against his back. The force from the blow was enough to break through the table he landed on.
Gillick ignored the stares he was now receiving from all eyes in the inn. He simply sheathed his blade, spun on his heel, and stalked through the crowd towards the stairs.
Cries of alarm startled Gillick out of his slumber. He immediately reached for the sheathed sword that rested nearby and rolled out of bed. He half-unsheathed his weapon, tensing as he watched the door. When no one entered, he strapped the weapon to his back and went to the window, looking out.
In the open air, the words of the raised alarm were easier to hear. "The Light Army! They're attacking!"
Shit. He wasn't about to waste time staying there now. Instead of going the conventional way out of the building, he jumped out the window onto the roof of a nearby building, rolling as he did to avoid the sting of impact. He dashed across the roof before jumping down into the streets. He saw dark figures rushing past him, weapons materializing in the darkness. The Dark Army going to combat the Light Army. He noted the direction they were headed, and immediately ran the opposite way. He was already too close to the Keybladers.
He ran through the streets like a shadow. For a few moments, he dared to hope that he'd get out of the town unhindered. However, when he saw more Keybladers appearing up ahead, he realized this was not the case. Growling under his breath, he slipped into an alleyway. He pressed up close to the wall, hiding his form in the deep shadows. He listened for the sound of footsteps bypassing him.
The sound of footfalls suddenly stopped. He shifted his eyes, not daring to reach for his sword just yet. Then he heard a sickening and familiar squelching sound, along with a choked cry. So, they were from the Light Army, he thought grimly. He remained where he was, waiting for them to continue on.
Then he heard voices. "Hey, what should we do with these two?"
"Don't worry, Mom, I'll fight them," a small voice said.
"Not now, dear," a female one replied.
Gillick closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the wall in frustration. Wondering if their new captives would provide him enough of a distraction for him to escape, he began to edge along the side of the wall. "There've sided with the Dark Army," another voice replied. "Kill them."
He had no responsibility to those people; in all honesty, he had little interest in saving them. But he gritted his teeth and the sound of the Keyblader's voice. Before he'd realized what he was doing, his sword had come free of its scabbard and he'd jumped out of the alleyway. For the second time that night, he heard the sound of a blade thrusting itself through flesh and blood. The man who he'd impaled arched his back, an odd gurgling sound coming from his throat. Then Gillick jerked his weapon backward, freeing it from the Keyblader, who fell lifeless to the ground.
The other Keybladers were looking at him in stunned surprise, their weapons still poised to strike the woman and child that they surrounded. He looked at them, the runes on his sword glowing and casting him in an eerie light. "I suggest you leave," he hissed at them.
One of the Keybladers broke free of his stupor. He lunged forward with a wild cry. Gillick stepped to the side, blade singing as it swept through the air and felled another opponent. "Wrong choice."
"Who are you?" another Keyblader hissed at him. He sounded wary.
"No one you need to worry about," he replied. Silently, he added, How do I always manage to get myself into these things? He jerked the hand holding his bloodied sword towards the exit to the town. "Leave, now."
"You killed the captain."
"No shit," he growled, rolling his eyes. "Just know that I never kill without a good reason." His eyes narrowed dangerously.
"You're for the Dark Army, too," the Keyblader hissed.
His weapon was at his throat in a second. "Listen very carefully," Gillick hissed to the stunned warrior of the Keyblade. "I. Want. Nothing. To. Do. With. The. Keyblade." He enunciated each word carefully, making sure the message sunk in. "Got it?"
"Y-yeah," the other man choked out, eyes wide.
He pulled his blade back. "Like I said, I won't kill without good reason," he growled. "So I suggest you leave before I find one." The Keybladers fled without looking back.
He snorted, wiping his blade off on the ground. "Wow, that was amazing!" He looked up at the sound of the boy's voice. "The way you fought those Light Army scum!"
He sheathed his sword. "If you say so."
"Thank you, sir," the woman said, eyes brimming with gratitude. "You saved us."
"Obviously." He began to walk away.
"Hey! Could you teach me to be a hero, too?" the boy called after him.
He stopped in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder, his heart feeling oddly heavy. "Hero? You've got the wrong person, kid. I'm nothing of the sort."
"Well, then what are you?"
He began walking forwards once more, saying as he left, "I'm just someone trying to get by."
The leader of the light army turned his silver eyes to Trevor, their depths glittering with surprise. "What did you say?"
"He was at the town…and…I think he was at the attack, too." The boy seemed to feel uncomfortable at having to report this information to his leader.
The other man shook his head. "The fool. Doesn't he understand that to save this world, the light must purge the monsters that hide in the dark?"
"Obviously not," muttered Trevor. Why couldn't his brother see reason? It would make things so much easier.
The other man heaved a troubled sigh. "Well, you know what must be done if you meet him."
Trevor ignored his heavy heart. "For the sake of the Light Army," he whispered.
The other man nodded, silver eyes glittering in the starlight. "End him."
And that's the end of chapter three. Reviews are always appreciated!