You ride waves of blood, and none are brave enough to stand up to that mighty sword you hold, glimmering with the blood of thousand innocents, and yet you are not troubled. You say that your mind is soothed by the final cries of dying men, and yet, you constantly flee, fear, and dread your own final cry. Are you not haunted by the voices of the cousins, husbands, and sons you have killed?

~Kavveled

5 years before Kavveled’s great victory

Guntrix looked haunted and all. Rust and old blood, skeletons, smashed furniture, and not to mention the lingering dread present everywhere. The sun rode the horizon, the sky dyed with streaks of orange, and on some faraway sky, a faint, crescent shaped light slowly formed.

Erin hated Guntrix. It had a history too. This was the place of Kavveled’s third battle with Yurith. Which had resulted in the whole town getting destroyed. Actually, there was some bogus rumor about a moron pouring gasoline into a dry toilet bowl and then tossing a cigarette in, and a few months ago, Erin overheard a bard’s tale about the third battle of Kavveled and Yurith, where, while they were fighting, a building exploded and they both fled with heavy injuries. Erin thus concluded that, since there was some truth in rumors, the moron in the toilet blew himself up just when Kavveled and Yurith approached his building.

Oh well, even Kavveled and Yurith must have their bad days. Just like me.

Erin was Axiom clan, as obviously implied by the black letter styled “A”her arm band. Simple, yet very recognizable. The Cavalry clan has a black letter styled “C”. Those unoriginal….What would be a fitting title for them? Morons? Idiots? No….I don’t know. While they did not destroy as much property as Fable clan, they killed enough people to become a prominent clan. And when you were in a prominent clan, expect fights every single day.

She was cruising on her Mule on this sunny day. Erin was no ugly fighter, to say the least. She simply looked too…Butch. Just like a boy, minus her long hair. Her frame was slight, as if the slightest nudge would fell her. Her black colored hoodie only served to make her look smaller than she was, and those similar colored trousers weren’t helping, either. At least her shoes were silver, but it didn’t make her look any bigger.

Oh well, can’t blame her, she was 13.

Erin was one of the lucky fighters who managed to receive formal training from the age of 4.

A complete natural at K style, and her aim was simply prodigious. Her mentors said that she was the best. She could take down an 18 year old fighter easy when she was 11. Oh, the expressions on the faces of everyone who had been watching that particular fight was very amusing. Her eyes were sharp, her body was agile, and despite her lazy looking outward appearance, Erin was very much alert.

She was one who could take a punch. And then punch back.

However, she was not known as Erin the Unlucky among her clan members for no reason.

No matter how alert, how skilled, how fast Erin was, she would always be in horrible shape after an intense fight. And it would always be because of grenades. They seemed to be attracted to her face. She had already lost an eye because of one particularly crowded skirmish, where a grenade exploded right beside her eye. Nasty business. It was a miracle she survived. The ravaged half of her face was covered by both her dark green hair and half a black mask.

Just ahead, Erin spotted poles cutting through the otherwise endless stretch of sky. ‘Guntrix,’ she murmured, seeing the ravaged town gates. She decelerated further, her Mule –clearly not her size, and yet she somehow handled it fine- gliding along the road. She looked around. The whole place reminded her of Silent Hill, just like some of the apartments in Town-4 or Original. She shivered. The unknown still chilled her, sent images flashing in her accursed young, vivid mind. Another weakness…

Something then moved at the edge of her vision. Erin snapped her head to see clearly, and realized that her gun was already out and pointing at whatever it was, and that she had already killed the engine of her Mule. Sometimes, her diabolical reaction time –as her fellow clan mates had called it- surprised her.

Two boys… Veterans… Not much of a threat. She replaced her handgun, squinting her eyes, searching their torsos for the sign of an insignia. What clan?

Deciding that she should approach, Erin fired up the engine, driving it behind a dense bush, and with inhumanely light steps, alighted from her Mule, snapping out its stand with a foot while air dashing behind the nearest building with the other.

The two boys happened to turn away at that moment, staring down at a Mule lying in front of them. A Mule which looked like it had exploded.

‘Damn you, Arladerus! You are retarded, it’s not as if kicking–’ The blonde haired boy started, but was cut off almost immediately by his orange haired companion.

‘It has already happened! Legro and Shadow are really taking their time, now that’s what we should be angry about!’

Legro. The name stuck into Erin’s head. The first Double Butterflyer. They know her? They were directly related to her?

‘No! We would have a Mule to go back to Town-2 to if not for your…Your… Genius method of attempting to… For Kav’s sake, KICKING AN ENGINE??! Brilliant, absolutely brilliant…’

‘Thank you for the compliment, but this is hardly the time for compliments.’

Erin struggled to keep herself from laughing.

‘THAT WAS NOT A COMPLIMENT, YOU DU–’

‘Relax, Ryxtre,’ The boy named Arladerus said calmly, making a shooing gesture at Ryxtre, whose cool blue eyes were suddenly lit by some fire. Arladerus looked away, sighing, crossing his arms.

Erin spotted Ryxtre tugging off the safety pin of a grenade beneath his trench coat, perfectly making it appear like he was scratching himself.

‘Hey, Arlad,’ Ryxtre suddenly said, tapping Arladerus on the shoulder.

Arladerus turned around, and Ryxtre shoved something round into his palm. He looked down, and took a moment to register the nature of the thing in his palm.

A moment of silence, then the thing flew upwards into the air with Arladerus’s scream and a jerk of his hands, followed by Ryxtre’s laughter. But Erin knew that something was going to happen. Kavveled’s balls, grenades, plus an Erin…

Erin looked up at the grenade. She saw the thing getting bigger. Bigger.

‘WHAT THE FU—-’

Arladerus and Ryxtre turned their heads in the direction of the scream, and caught the orange fire of an exploding grenade. At around the same moment, movement up in the air drew their attention.

‘Is that a flying…’ Arladerus started, but his voice faded away in utter amazement as the figure soared over the roof of the 3-storey high building—

Falling incredibly quickly towards him—

And the air was punched out of his lungs as the scenery of Guntrix flashed to become the sky, and a painful blow to his back, disorienting him for a few moments. What the hell happened? Something had just punched me, and I am now on the ground. Oh, I see.

In his arms, something… No, someone. Oh, the thing that hit me! He sat up, looked down. It was a little girl lying face up in his lap, no more than 14, with green hair, a mask on her face, and the Axiom insignia on her chest… which his hand had been covering.

Damn it.

He looked up to his left, saw Ryxtre’s astonished face.

‘With all due respect, Ryxtre, stop looking at me as if I were a pedophile,’ he said.

Ryxtre’s expression did not change.

Spade saw only darkness. Yes, darkness… Silence. Deafening silence, if that was possible anyway, no matter how much Nazgul promoted the expression in his trilogies before he died.

Then an idea crossed Spade’s mind. Was he dead? He presumably lifted his arms, held them close to what he thought were his eyes.

Oh, I’m dead.

Is this how it feels like?

…

Wait… He heard voices.

Wait, wait… How did he die?

Oh, yes, he was at the café, with Pod…

Then a grenade exploded or something, didn’t it?

Oh, Pod, did he die?

Pod, are you alive?

Nothing answered him.

Pod, I promise that I’ll become good if you’re alive, he thought.

No answer.

Pod, I promise that I’ll give you a kazillion dollars if you’re alive, he thought again.

No answer.

Ok, last try, and we’re both deader than Elvis… Pod, I swear that I’ll become a transmexual if you’re alive!!!! He thought again, desperate for an answer.

This, to him as he reflected moments later, was an egregiously retarded thing to do.

‘…ADE!!!’

A voice. Pod?

‘DAMMIT, he’s awake… SPADE!!!!!!’

Oh, it’s Pod!

Sudden light flooded into the darkness. Blinding him. He lifted an arm to shield his eyes.

‘Ooh, the light!’ He said.

Heaven! So he was dead, together with Pod. So he didn’t need to follow his swear and be a transmexual anymore!! All over the world was light. Blinding, bright light, and yes, clouds! Heaven! What a wondrous place!!

‘Ooh,’ He blurted out, sitting upright, rubbing his eyes. He then regretted doing so.

The uplifting, triumphant feeling was suddenly replaced by dread, as structures and buildings slowly faded into view. Oh, no! I shouldn’t have cleared my eyes!And, soon, Pod’s face emerged, his youthful features filled with happiness.

‘Yes!! He’s alive!!!!’ Pod yelled happily, shaking Spade.

Who seemed mortified.

‘What? We’re alive…? How? A grenade exploded right in our face!!!’ He yelled, as if by gathering evidence that it was impossible for them to be alive, they wouldn’t be alive.

Pod looked at him with a blank face.

‘Grenade, exploded?’

Pod looked at him with a blank face.

‘Pod, you grabbed me and jumped out of the window!’

‘What grenade?’ Pod asked, with a blank face.

‘What do you mean by what grenade?’ Spade asked.

‘What do you mean by what do you mean by what grenade?’

‘What do you mean by what do you mean by what do you mean by what grenade?’

‘What do you mean by what do you mean by what do you mean by what do you mean by what grenade?’

‘A grenade exploded in there!!!’ Spade yelled, grabbing his head.

‘No, the granny’s diabolical SHH caused the explosion! Spawn of the devil, surely…’ His face stopped being blank at that moment.

‘No, a grenade exploded!!!’

‘Stop sounding so retarded, Spade! No grenades exploded!! I did not see any!!’

‘Stop sounding so retarded, Pod! The granny probably got blown to bits too!!’

‘Liar! She’s right there!!’

‘Liar!! She’s probably…Oh, my, SHE’S THERE!!!!’

‘Now do you believe me?!’

‘But… But I saw a grenade!!!’

‘You’re always so retarded, Spade! No wonder you’re hallucinating!!’

A dark haired fighter from the Cavalry clan standing next to the odd pair snuffed out his cigarette on the ground, stepping away from the wall he had been leaning on.

‘You two are idiots,’ he said flatly, walking past Pod and Spade and towards the ravaged remains of the inn.

Seeing the truth in his words, both of them fell silent.

‘So… Was it the granny or was it the grenade?’ Spade blurted after an awkward silence.

‘Granny.’

Well, should I believe him?

‘Damned Fable clan troublemakers throwing grenades all over the place,’ a new voice spoke, this time female. Pod and Spade turned around, saw a young girl sweep past them, her blonde curls swaying liquid-like according to her movements. For a moment, they were mesmerized by her grace… Her immense beauty… Before their attention snapped back to the pressing mystery at hand.

‘It was the grenade, Pod!!’ Spade yelled out, triumphant.

Pod’s jaw dropped. He was right. For once.

He proceeded to faint with awe.

The deafening, rattling noises of SubMachine Guns being fire almost immediately filled the air. Spade looked at the café, saw a small group of men –All with the blazing word, “FABLE” on the shirts—fingers pressed on their triggers, firing at the three Cavalry fighters, who were dashing away, only the dark haired man braving the bullets; his sword moving in a white blur, bullets ricocheting off it.

‘RUN, RUN!!!’ The blonde haired girl from earlier yelled, running towards Pod and Spade, ducking behind a truck, and slamming her rifle on the truck’s side, muttering something about “cheap crap jamming on me”.

Spade snapped back into reality. I must drag Pod to safety!

As he grabbed Pod’s collar, running in the opposite direction of the fight, Spade’s face accordingly looked horrified.

An irrelevant thought. As a transmexual, am I supposed to do this?

A scream from the chaos behind him, then a loud explosion—

A shouted warning, even as something slammed into Pod’s back, and the world spun around him—

I lost Pod… I lost Pod… Oh no…

And he was sliding on the rough ground, losing all sense of direction, losing strength, losing his thoughts…

I just had the oddest idea that I was supposed to be a transmexual…

A rough sound, right beside his ear, followed by cursing and swearing, then, fading footsteps.

Fading.

Don’t leave me…

The gunshots were clearer now… Odd for him to have just noticed it…

-to be continued

I had writer’s block after writing that.

P.S. FunnyFroggy stole my innocence and called me gullible. Mommy, mash him plox