Chapter 16: Homecoming

Darren waved his hand and the door opened, Sara’s hand hanging in mid-air ready to knock. “Come in.” Sara smiled hesitantly and walked in, sitting on the edge of the other bed a few feet away from his. “I didn’t know if you wanted to be alone or not.”

Darren continued to stare up. “When I want to be alone, you’ll know.”

Sara smiled slightly. “Slamming the door, scaring the desk clerk, hood over the face…those aren’t clues you want to be alone?”

His gaze was fixed on something moving on the ceiling. “If I wanted to be alone, the door would be across town, the clerk would be in pieces, and I wouldn’t let you in.”

Her smile was gone. “You’re…very bitter.” He sat up, avoiding her eyes. “They almost killed me. Wouldn’t you be?”

Sara looked down at the floor. “…Yes…” She paused. “You want to talk about it?”

Darren turned to her. “Alright. I was young. I had a gift. They thought I was a freak, that I was not normal. They tried to suppress the gift, they tried to destroy the magic inside me, and when that failed they tried to kill me.”

Sara waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she ventured “Obviously they didn’t succeed.”

Darren almost rolled his eyes. “Obviously. I escaped and vowed never to come back if I could help it. But I can’t help it, apparently, so here I am.”

The room grew dark and the rest of the group joined them. Sara stood up. “We should all get some sleep. Fraydon and I have the other room. Is there even space for all you guys in here?”

Darren didn’t move. “We’ll manage. Goodnight.” Sara sighed. “Goodnight, Darren.”

The women left and Acerin closed the door. Everyone but Darren began unloading materials and bedrolls, making a place on the floor. Darren sat up and Legerra spoke, eyes averted. “Darren…we should probably open the window. It’ll get hot in here.”

Darren stood and shook out the loose folds of his cloak. “Do what you want. Thendat and Acerin get the beds. I’ll be back in the morning and we can head out as soon as everyone’s ready.”

Thendat voiced his misgivings with some hesitation. “Darren, where will you sleep? And where are you going?”

Darren threw his hood over his face. “I’ll sleep where I’m comfortable. And what I do is my own business.”

Thendat wasn’t intimidated. “Don’t do anything rash.”

Darren didn’t move or respond, but even from across the room Legerra could hear his fingers popping from his clenched fist as he strode out.

Acerin sat on the bed and whistled. “I’m a hothead, huh?” The sheets lifted at the edges and twisted around him, tying him up with only his head sticking out of a makeshift bag. Acerin yelled “Hey! What the…Darren! I was just joking, man! You’re the one who told me to settle down!” The sheets untangled and lay flat. Acerin stood up and glared at the empty doorway. “Yeah…that’s right! You better-agh!” The bed jerked sideways, knocking him to the floor. He rubbed his head and held his tongue. Milar glanced at him. “Good idea.”
~
Sara couldn’t sleep again. Even with the window open and a cool breeze flowing, she was still wondering about Darren. A voice sounded from the bed next to hers. “You’re worried about him. Even when there’s nothing wrong, you’re still anxious.”

Sara jumped slightly. “How’d you know?” She couldn’t see Fraydon but she could swear she saw a smile.

“Because you’re always looking at him, making sure he’s okay, checking to see if what you’re doing is satisfactory. You’re either a huge people-pleaser, or you like the guy.”

Sara blushed. “Well…I guess I might.”

Fraydon sighed. “He’s got a complicated past, a confused present, and a very bleak future. What’s there to like?”

Sara thought back to when their lives had been relatively peaceful, when “He was very sweet. He would defend whoever needed it, and he always cared about the little things, trying to make life better for his friends.”

Fraydon rolled over and peered through the darkness at Sara. “And those traits remain. But right now he’s got a lot of problems. The best thing you can do is silently support him, and not add to those problems.”

Sara sighed. “You’re telling me not to act on my feelings.” Fraydon smiled. “You catch on quick. Just wait until he’s less…upset. Until he has less on his mind.”

Sara agreed, and drifted off to sleep without dreams.
~
Milar woke to loud noises. It couldn’t be sunrise, but it was getting near. He shook his head to clear it and woke the others. “Guys…we may need to be out there. It sounds ugly.” They groaned and rolled over. Darren sat in the corner, still asleep with hood pulled over his head. When did he come back in? “Guys! It sounds serious!” One by one they stumbled groggily to the door and made their way to the front of the inn.

Legerra turned and ran back to get Darren, who took his time walking past the clerk, watching him huddle in the corner. He stepped outside, blinking his eyes at the dim light outside. It was some sort of procession…almost like a funeral procession. A woman stumbled by, chained to four armed guards and barely able to stand.

Fraydon and Sara walked up behind him, rubbing their eyes and yawning. “What’s going on?”

Darren stared at the woman, his senses failing. No…it can’t be…Zerach walked by, hesitated, and then came over to where they were standing. “I’m sorry you have to see this. This woman was caught stealing food, and since we know she’s done it many times, the guards have no choice but to hang her.”

Darren turned to Zerach, looking him full on in the eyes. “What’s her name?” Zerach spoke with a tone of…something unidentifiable in his voice. “Ms. Henderson.” Darren smiled politely. “Oh, I see. Thank you, Governor. Oh, Governor, one more question.”

Zerach smiled. “Sure.” Darren’s smile disappeared. “What’s her real name?” Zerach’s smile wavered slightly, but stayed plastered on. “I’m…not sure what you mean.” Darren stepped forward and grabbed Zerach by the neck of his clothing. “Don’t play games with me. I want her real name, and I want it now.”

Thendat pulled at his elbow. “Darren, the Governor said-” “I know what he said. I want to know what he didn’t say. Governor?” Darren tightened his grip a little. Zerach choked slightly. “All…right…fine. Her name is…Mary. It used to be Mary Henderson, that much was true. But she married into the…Kinsley family.”

Another round of gasps ran through the group. Darren didn’t move, his voice growing louder. “So, let me see if this is correct. Our OWN MOTHER, who is going to be EXECUTED, was stealing food because YOU DIDN’T TAKE CARE OF HER?!?” Zerach was still smiling that accursed diplomatic smile. “Darren, we have laws, and we had to hire soldiers-”

Darren cut him off. “I know about these…soldiers. They march under a false crest, with fake names, terrorizing villagers and doing what they please. They’re mercenaries, not soldiers. At least a soldier has HONOR!” He dropped Zerach, who quickly smoothed his expensive purple robe, the growing sunlight glinting off huge rings on fat fingers.

“Darren, assaulting a public official is punishable by time in jail. I’ll overlook it if you leave quickly.” Darren smiled grimly. “Oh, I’ll leave alright. I just have to finish what you started…” His voice hardened like tempered steel as he stared into the depths of Zerach’s eyes, gazing into his shriveled soul. “Older brother.”

He turned and followed the procession, his friends trailing. Zerach looked around. “Guards! To me! The traveler in the dark brown cloak is attempting to free the prisoner!” Darren chuckled darkly. Doesn’t he remember? A thought took root and began to boil, numbing his brain. He…he doesn’t remember. He’s forgotten…the way he…they way they ALL treated me. He acts like it never happened…because in his mind it didn’t!

It was with a supreme effort that he kept walking, barely able to keep himself from turning and blasting Zerach off the continent. He reached the platform where his mother stood on a wooden block, a noose around her neck, beaten and bloody. This is your reward? You gave so much to the village, to me, even to HIM! And THIS is how he repays you?!?

Sara and Acerin stood under the platform, shielding themselves and the rest of the group with their combined energy. They had no desire to kill any of the villagers and Zerach knew this, which is why he ordered the hired men to stop Darren and leave the rest alone.

They gladly obliged. They were mercenaries. They made their living from killing other people. They rushed up the raised platform and at Darren with weapons drawn. He didn’t move from his position facing his mother. They didn’t stop to try and take him unarmed. The first one to reach him swung a huge two-handed claymore, aiming to cut him in half and end the fight quickly.

Darren turned around and watched the sword come towards him, not caring whether the world slowed down or sped up this time. The first rays of sunlight shone directly into the attacker’s eyes and all around Darren, mingling with his aura and making it impossible to see him, but the mercenary kept swinging. He connected with the pulsating energy and screamed, dropping the sword and wringing his hand.

Shading their eyes, the rest of the hired men slowed, but didn’t stop completely. They kept attacking what they couldn’t see, and some got hurt worse than others. One had the idea of going after the woman that Darren seemed to be protecting. It was his last.

Darren’s hand shot out of the glowing ball and grabbed the man’s throat, ripping it out and tossing it on the ground. The attacks slowed, and then stopped altogether. Some of the men began backing away, but a surprising amount held their ground as the energy dissipated.

Darren’s friends made their way out from under the platform and looked up at the scene. The mercenaries stood facing a man holding a dark brown cloak, with long black hair and a dark blue cape flowing behind him in a breeze that existed only in another dimension. His breastplate, boots, greaves, and gauntlets seemed to be made of some ethereal material that flashed in the dawn. Twin longswords hung at his waist. He opened his eyes, and it seemed to Sara that they absorbed color from whatever he looked at, constantly changing.

The group stared at him, awestruck. One of the mercs ran up and tried another blow to Darren’s armor. Darren didn’t move, letting him score a direct hit on his chest, not moving an inch. The vibrations made the axe shiver and the merc dropped it.

Darren reached out and grabbed the man by his neck, lifting him up and staring directly into his eyes. The man worked up saliva, and spit at Darren’s face. It slowed and halted an inch from Darren’s nose, then slowly moved back until it hung directly between them. Then it burst into flame, flying into the man’s face. Darren flung him off the platform, turning to face his mother.

He slowly unsheathed one longsword, watching the silvery metal shine as he swung it through the deadly rope. Mary collapsed and Darren tenderly picked her up, jumping off into the middle of the protective barrier and laying her inside, looking around at his friends. “Protect her if they try anything.” They nodded, and he leaped back up on the platform, watching the mercenaries.

They slowly advanced up the stairs, fanning out. Darren’s voice hadn’t changed any. “Well, if it’ll give you a better chance, you can do that down here.” Darren did a backflip off the platform into the cleared road of town, unsheathing his other sword as he flipped. He landed with legs spread slightly apart and a sword in each hand, watching the mercenaries begin to circle him.

One charged too early, using an overhead chop. It was a simple matter to step forward and send his head flying with a quick slice. They grew wary, realizing his speed and strength. Just now they’re realizing this? Pretty dense for mercs…

The leader’s eyes flicked back and forth, finally blinking twice. Wow, that wasn’t a signal or anything. The circle closed in on him. He jumped a good twenty feet and landed outside the circle. Well, cartoons have lied to me again. They didn’t stab each other or collide comically.

There was no more group mindset in the mercenaries. Each acted as he thought would best work against Darren as they charged him in a blind rage. He raised his blades until they crossed over, then waited until the first man was just within reach, using the blades like scissors and cutting the man in half.

From there, it was only a question of which people to finish off first. His swords were pointing away from him, and two men charged, one swinging to the left and the other to the right. He swung his right sword to the left and vice-versa, knocking their weapons away, then brought his blades back across their throats. They collapsed in the dirt.

Enough. His weapons assumed the same properties as his armor. He charged his enemies, blades glowing with a strange light. One swing cut through their armor like paper, scattering men easily. They fell in rows, some cut down even before they had a chance to see him. A few turned to run. Not so fast. The ground shook and buckled beneath the cowards, flinging them back towards Darren, who jumped into the air and spun in a deadly whirlwind of blades.

Only the leader was left now. He knew he was no match for this powerful fighter, but he saluted Darren in mercenary fashion and strode towards him. Darren sheathed one of his swords, making it as fair a fight as he could.

The leader fought well. He knew the tricks of swordplay, and was able to foresee some of Darren’s techniques after watching him carve up his men. They kept at it for a few minutes, parrying and lunging, slashing and dodging, until Darren knocked his opponent’s sword to the side and stabbed through his heart. The leader coughed and half-smiled at Darren. “It…was nice to duel…a real fighter…instead of…bullying villagers…”

Darren bowed his head and walked a few steps away. A spot of light spread from under him and hid him from view as it closed around him. The cloak flew from Acerin’s hands and into the pillar of light. After a few seconds, it cleared and revealed Darren, dressed in the cloak as always, on one knee and breathing heavily.

Legerra ran over and slapped him on the back. “Wow, man! That was incredible! What was that thing?” Fraydon shot him a look and kneeled beside Darren. “Are you okay?”

Darren stood up and gently pushed his friends back a few feet. “I’m not hurt. That was the spirit of an ancient knight from long ago, named Delis. But explanations come later, as usual. Where’s my mother?”

The group stepped to either side, allowing Milar to walk through, carrying Mary in his arms. “Darren…she’s not going to make it.”

Darren ignored him and took her, carrying her to a tree nearby and setting her down with her back against it, sitting down beside her. She opened her eyes and turned to him, squinting in the light. “My…son…Darren? I’m glad I could see you one last time.”

Darren shook his head. “No, don’t talk like that.” His mother lifted her hand to his shoulder. “You know as well as I do I can’t recover from wounds like these. Thank you for liberating the village from those brutes. Your brother wants peace, but he does not know the minds of the people.”

Darren clenched a fist and stared off at the direction Zerach had gone. Mary noticed it. “No, do not seek vengeance on your own brother. Please…for my sake.”

Darren said nothing, avoiding her eyes. She reached up and turned his head towards hers. “Please.”

He caught his breath. “Alright. But if he does anything else to hurt the village, I will have to set it right, even if it means...removing him.” His mother sighed. “Very well. I’m sorry, Darren. I did my best to help you out…but I couldn’t be there all the time to help you against the villagers…please forgive me.”

Darren’s eyes filled with tears. “My dear mother…there is nothing to forgive.”

Mary’s eyes brightened. “Then I can go easy. My son…live well.” She leaned back and exhaled one last time.

Darren bowed his head, silent tears streaming down his face and drenching the earth. The group stood in silence, heads down, paying homage.

One by one they left, going back to the inn to gather their things, until only Sara remained. She walked up behind him, knelt, and put a hand on his shoulder. His hand covered hers, and they stayed until the group returned, silent comfort exchanged.
- posted by Nick @ 4/29/2004 02:15:00 PM