Infinity Legends

Chapter 37: Wounds

Being towed over the ocean by six drones was not the most comfortable module of transportation, but it surely beat swimming for miles. Takol already did enough of that in real life and, after seeing the beast that swallowed their boat, both adventurers were just glad to be safely away from the surface.

They were still confused from the scene they had just witnessed. For all it seemed, Zack was after whatever Ybor had in the fancy box, and Ybor had preferred to die and loose a level to handing it over.

The surprise and confusion increased when the drones dropped Takol and Kramen right in front of the Infinity and they found Ybor drinking one of the purple local fruits by their airlock.

“What on the stars just happened?” Kramen asked.

“I respawned nearby. Figured I’d wait by your ship,” Ybor explained as Bravo dropped the box onto his owner’s hands.

“All that mess was because of this little box?” Takol asked.

“Pretty much,” Ybor ran a hand over the carved surface. “Zack Ionjet’s been all over the galaxy trying to take it from me. Now he’s enlisted help from the Solar League.”

“You made it easy for him,” Kramen pointed out. “Dealing with the Red Star Pirates.”

Ybor shrugged.

“What’s in the box?” Takol asked.

Ybor hesitated for a moment, the nonchalant gaze he usually had falling to a depressed frown as he caressed the box. After a moment, he lifted the lid to peek inside, and after a moment’s consideration showed the contents to his newest allies.

Two perfect plasma daggers, their handles a harmonious mix of silver, crimson and dark blue. The pommels had a vivid blue hue to them indicative of a magnetic lock mechanism that could turn the two daggers into one double-bladed weapon. The hilts were perfectly padded in rubber and the blades were curved black alloys that would be enveloped in burning plasma once activated. They were unlike anything either Kramen or Takol had ever seen. Some aspects of the weapon showed similarities to the ones Takol had seen in possession of the Fire Eels, but overall the style was slicker, more elegant and precise without sacrificing the weapon’s efficiency and power.

“They’re wonderful,” Takol said.

“No crap…” Ybor muttered. “The Blue Fire Twins. Belonged to Sour Emmy.”

“Sour Emmy?” Takol squinted. “You knew Sour Emmy?!”

“Who’s that?” Kramen scratched his head.

“Best swordswoman this galaxy’s ever seen, that’s who,” Ybor shut the box and put it under his arm. “Best the galaxy’ll ever see. Just fitting that she had the best daggers too.”

“You made those for her?” Kramen asked.

“I made these pistols with her. My first project,” Ybor turned his back on the others and clenched his jaw. “Been trying to make something better all these years. Never came close. Said you want me in your team?”

“We do,” Kramen nodded.

“One condition. I’ll choose our melee guy or gal. Someone worthy of using Emmy’s daggers. I want to bring a piece of her to the Legend Halls.”

Kramen looked at Takol. The reptile offered a brief nod.

“We’ll vet them first, but you have a deal,” Kramen stretched a hand for Ybor to shake. “You can pick one of the empty rooms in the ship. You’ll meet the rest of the team over the coming week.”

“And Ybor,” Takol called as the engineer climbed onboard. “Welcome to the Infinity Riders!”

***

There was smoke on the horizon.

A product of the burning village in Seeraim Island, where the Solar League was probably busy at work handcuffing dangerous pirates.

Luckily, that was miles away, and Takol and Kramen could just enjoy extraterrestrial margaritas by the seashore.

If two months ago Barry had been told he would be sunbathing in flowery shorts side by side with a humanoid crocodile in a school Sunday, he would have called a mental facility.

“So, this Sour Emmy,” Kramen took a sip of his drink, shoving the red umbrella aside with his nose. “What’s her deal? Permadead?”

 “You could say that,” Takol removed the sunglasses he wore. “She is dead. And it is permanent.”

Kramen’s face went numb as he understood his friends meaning.

“You mean…”

“Yeah,” Takol shook his head. “It’s not the character who died.”

The two men remained in silence, watching the crashing waves as each rummaged through a distinct series of contemplations evoked by the tale.

“Do you know how it happened?” Kramen asked.

“Autoimmune disease,” Takol shook his head. “Didn’t know her. Just had a few friends in common. Still enough to see the commotion it caused. Because it was more than just a premature death, you know? It reminded us of… things.”

“What things?” Kramen asked.

“One of the best melee fighters in the galaxy, a close friend to many people, a strong and widely admired character. Here she was invincible. A legend,” Takol heaved. “It reminded us of the world out there. It reminded us that while it’s good to be special here, we are all just human.”

Kramen’s hands were shaking. Not out of fear or weakness, but a slowly boiling rage that filled his chest. He squeezed his fists until the margarita cup exploded in his hands. The shards of glass made him bleed, but he simply held the clenched fist. He had taken the message.

“Come on, Barry,” Takol placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s treat those wounds of yours. Let’s go home.”

And Barry knew Luca was not talking about the cuts on Kramen’s hand.

***

1 day later.

Things were looking better.

Barely.

Barry still had black eyes, the cuts on his face were only partially mended and his body still felt sore all over the place, but with Luca’s help he could at least bear the pain. With Luca’s help he had moved past the shame and humiliation he felt and had found the resolve to face the world even as the world stared back with pity and disdain.

The whole day, he had seen people looking at him, whispering, giggling. At the café, at the street, at class. Everyone talking about the nerd who took a beating, the looser who had been mugged, the dork who failed to defend himself. He did not care.

He was Kramen Blacksky, galactic legend. He had not accomplished that in spite of his true self, but thanks to his true self. Kramen came to be because of Barry. They were one and the same, and as Kramen had found the drive to reintroduce himself with his head high, so would Barry.

The comments and stares could hurt, but he was stronger than that pain.

But certain pains went deeper and hit harder.

That was the case when he crossed Sarah’s path after class.

“Wow, someone ran into a wall!” Emma said, laughing hysterically. The girls accompanying her had joined in on the fun, but Sarah hadn’t.

Sarah remained silent, but Barry could see the loud fire burning behind her brown eyes. Her face lost all color while looking at Barry. When she understood all that had happened. When she connected Barry’s disappearance form Saturday night to Charles’ stakeout near their apartment. Barry had not told Luca what had happened, but Sarah needed no explanation to know her boyfriend’s guilt.

Fuming from her nostrils, Sarah snapped back and stomped away from the sorority pack of wild hyenas.

***

Sarah was panting, her face red, eyes redder, fists clenched as she stomped each step of the way to the campus’ gym. It was the end of the afternoon, so she was bound to find Charles there, and she would give him a piece of her mind. Assaulting anyone would have been wrong, but Barry? Barry was a good man. Kind, gentle, harmless… That was the last straw!

She barged into the gym, resisting the urge to kick the door down, and that was when her phone buzzed.

Unregistered number.

Barry.

If she held the phone with any more anger, it was going to break in half. She answered the call, but did not say a thing. She was far too pissed to formulate words.

“Sarah, don’t do it,” Barry whispered across the line.

“He f*****g assaulted you, Barry!” her voice was shaking.

“I know, but he only suspects you were there. If you confront him, he will know you were there.”

“I don’t care! This isn’t right!”

“Confronting Charles will only make things worse,” Barry said, his voice also shaking, but as solidly rational as ever. “Don’t do this for me. If you must, go ahead, but there is no logical point to it.”

“Logical,” Sarah scoffed. “When will you learn there is more to life than that?”

Barry took a deep audible breath. “If that’s what you want, confront him. But if you do you’ll have to tell everyone everything.”

Barry waited for Sarah to say something, but she did not.

“I’m just saying,” he continued, “I don’t expect you to do this. I chose to keep your secret. I knew what would happen.”

Sarah, with her jaw and fists still tensed, waited for Barry to go on, but he simply ended the call. It took her another three seconds to lower the phone, and just as she did Charles came into view, towel over his broad tank top-clad shoulders.

“Hey, hon, what you doing here,” Charles asked with a charming grin, coming for a kiss.

Sarah resisted the impulse of headbutting his teeth in, and instead met him with a quick peck on the lips.

“Just wanted to see you, boo,” Sarah smiled sheepishly. “We’ve, like, barely talked the whole weekend.”

“I was pretty busy,” Charles wiped the sweat off his forehead. As he did, Sarah saw the bruises on his knuckles.

“What happened there?” she gently touched the injured fingers, knowing exactly what had happened.

“I got a bit drunk on that party on Friday,” Charles hurried to cover the bruised knuckles with his other hand. “Guys told me I ended up punching a wall. Can you believe it?”

“You poor thing,” Sarah made googly eyes and pouted.

“I guess I was mad for you not being there,” he caressed her cheeks with his uninjured thumb.

She resisted the will to bite said thumb off.

“Is it hurting?” she asked, reaching for the bruised knuckles again and purposefully pressing the most swollen ones.

“A little,” Charles struggled to swallow the pain while looking cool, then ripped his hand away from hers with a smile. “You should’ve seen the wall!”

Oh, trust me, you asshole, Sarah thought to herself, I have.