Age of Darkness (10 page)

Four Years Later…

The eighteen-year-old boy stood upon the
hill that he had once lain upon as a child, having looked up at the twinkling stars.
The apple tree no longer grew there. It had been burned down when Bakaara was
invaded four years earlier. A gravestone stood in its place. The young man stood
at the gravestone, his throat tightening. He looked at the stone with dark eyes,
a shadow looming over his darkened expression. A gentle gust came, blowing his
hair ever so slightly. His hands were relaxed at his side. Rain was pouring
from the sky just as it had when his mother had passed, and when his sister had
been kidnapped. He remembered that day so vividly. It was more than just a
dream and clearer than just a memory. He remembered every detail, every ounce
of hatred that he had felt on that day. He hadn’t seen his sister since then, and
he had just buried his father beside his mother. Together. That’s what his
father would’ve wanted. Keimaro remembered burying his mother’s bones, a painful
experience that was imbedded into his mind.

His hair had grown a bit longer, and he had
grown to be just below six feet tall. His muscles were toned and shaped to
perfection after years of his father’s vigorous training. His bangs spiked down
close to his dark eyes, which were calm and barely opened, as if he wanted to
close them forever. He looked much older than eighteen; his body had matured
dramatically over the years. He wore a black cloak that was tightly wrapped
around him, a cape draping behind him. His cloak was buttoned up to conceal his
white tunic underneath and draped all the way down to his large black boots. A
leather belt was curled around the waist of the cloak and tightened to keep it
from flapping whenever he moved or when the wind blew. It had been his father’s
until recently when it had passed on to him.

He heard a sound behind him and raised his
head lightly as Yata walked up. The boy was older with strong, broad shoulders and
had grown a significant amount over the years. His dark-brown hair was longer
and wavier, nearly coming down to cover his eyes. He wore a black shirt with torn
sleeves, exposing his rippling muscles. His signature weapon was a simple metal
bat, which he carried in his hand everywhere he went. He had left the bat at
the bottom of the hill today and walked to the tombstones of Keimaro’s parents
unarmed. He had felt as strong of a bond to Keimaro’s father as Keimaro had,
and was also quite traumatized when he had passed from a heart attack. But now,
at least he would rest in peace with his wife in the afterlife.

“It has been a couple of days now,” Yata
said, knowing that Keimaro wanted to stay in the area. But Yata also knew that
staying here when they had been training for four years would be pointless. “It’s
time to go to Bassada,” he urged, naming the capital of the Faar Empire. “There’ll
be an escort caravan moving from Bakaara through the forest to the city. We can
follow close by and make use of their escorts and protection.”

It was a good plan. A lot had changed over
the years. The Faar weaponry was much more advanced, and Yata was sure the
escorts would be able to hold the monsters of the forest at bay while they
stayed close behind.

Still, the sound of the rain falling was
the only response.

“Kei—”

“Did you know that there was an elite
escort team that came by last week?” Keimaro said suddenly, looking over his
shoulder at Yata. “That stopped by in Bakaara. What would an elite escort team
want in Bakaara?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there’s something—”

“A chest that was kept in my room all of
these years was supposedly destroyed in the fire. I never checked or scavenged the
remains of my own house after that day. And when the new settlers came in, I
never decided to go down there and check for what had become of my old home and
whether or not the chest was still there. I did some research and interrogated
some people,” Keimaro muttered, slowly standing and leaving lilies at the grave.
He turned to face his friend. “The king has found keen interest in the chest
from the looks of it and has it in his custody. Some say it’s the reason that
he destroyed Bakaara. The chest was apparently indestructible and survived the
fire when my house burned down. No human has seen anything like it. A master
locksmith couldn’t even open the chest to see what was inside. They’ve been
trying to open the thing for years.”

“They hired a master locksmith to find out
what was in a chest in your room?” Yata said with a raised eyebrow. “And how is
it possible for something to be indestructible?”

“It isn’t,” Keimaro said. “That’s why I’m
thinking that there is some magic involved. If those Bounts that assaulted our
city many years ago still work with the Faar government, then we know that they
were the ones who called for the elite team of warriors to escort the chest
back to the capital city. Which means….”

“We have a lead.”

“Correct.”

Yata sighed and rubbed his head, looking at
his friend with a sign of sadness in his eyes. He was so set on his goal. But in
the end, what would come out of this revenge? Yata had pledged to Keimaro’s
father to travel this path of darkness as well. He wanted to see Tobimaru and
the rest of the Bounts brought to justice for what they had done to the people
of Bakaara. He had hated the people of the village, but no one deserved a
massacre such as this. Keimaro’s father had died believing that Yata and
Keimaro would fulfill his dream and avenge the deaths of all of those who had perished
on that day. But sometimes, when Yata looked at his friend, he saw a person
that had sunk even deeper into darkness than he.

Keimaro walked past Yata and began the
journey down the hill, a sullen look upon his face as he sauntered across the
green grass. He closed his eyes as the rain continued to fall upon him, sending
small, cold droplets running down his cheeks, looking almost like tears. He
reached back and pulled his hood over his head, covering his face in a dark
shadow. He looked much like the Bount organization members that he had seen
four years ago. His cold, hard eyes locked onto the new industrialized village
of Bakaara, which now had soldiers and an improved infrastructure. The newly
formed ten-foot walls had been constructed around the perimeter of the village
in order to replace the force field.

“We are going to infiltrate an export
caravan and interrogate them. After we get any information out of them, we are
going to disguise ourselves as them and sneak into Bassada through the front
door.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yata said, bowing
respectfully before the grave of Keimaro’s parents before following his friend
down the hill toward Bakaara. “It’s somewhat risky,” he murmured, “but I’m sure
that we’ll make it. We were trained for this, after all.”

***

A soldier by the name of Gavin was
tightening his hold around the hilt of his sheathed blade as the caravan began
to move into the dark forest that bordered Bakaara. He listened to the wheel of
the cart bump over rocks as he and several other soldiers walked into the
abyss. Even in broad daylight, the forest itself looked pitch-black. He could
already feel the darkness closing in around him, making his throat tighten and
dry. The man wore an iron helmet clamped over his head, covering most of his curly,
dark hair. A white tabard was thrown over his chainmail, with a red-cross
insignia upon it—the symbol of Faar. He had just joined the army, but the first
job he had was to perform a simple escort? It was almost insulting to do so;
the job had virtually no pay. But the fact that it was in the Forbidden Forest
meant that it was all the more dangerous.

He brushed his curly, dark hair out of his
blue eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness that encased him. His heart was
pounding harder than usual, and he felt a bit panicked for some odd reason.
Nothing was happening, but he could hardly see two feet in front of him. He
could hear the clanking of the soldiers’ armor around him and the trot of the
horses that pulled the cargo. He could hear the spinning of the mechanical
wheels from the wagon. But, his inability to see anything around him made him
all the more frightened of what was to come. Panicked. What if a monster was
watching him at this very moment? He could be killed on the spot. The soldier
would never see broad daylight ever again, and he wouldn’t even have a chance
to defend himself. He would die alone, and no one would care that he went
missing—other than his family, of course.

Oh gods, he was a soldier in the army. Why
in god’s name was he so scared? Gavin closed his eyes, disappointed in himself
as he tried to calm down, his hand loosening its grip on the hilt of his
weapon. He exhaled through his nose, trying to gather some control over
himself.
That’s it. I’ll be fine.

That was when he finally heard something
that was alien, not from the cargo escort. The entire escort stopped, and
soldiers unsheathed their blades, filling the silence with scraping steel. The
warriors stared blankly into the darkness around them, completely blind as to
what was out there. Even if something were there, they wouldn’t be able to
engage. They would just be a bunch of blind idiots swinging their weapons at
nothing.

“What the hell!” a man screamed suddenly as
he began to choke, his voice cut off almost immediately. There was a thump, the
sound of his body hitting the ground.

Gavin’s heart skipped a beat as he held his
sword out in front of him, witnessing as streaking shadows rushed across his
line of sight. There were slashes and thumps that echoed from the points of
blackness in his vision. Screams echoed from the lips of his comrades, and he
could hear their bodies hitting the ground. They weren’t alone. Something was
here with them. Or someone.

There was a heavy slam, and the entire
cargo escort creaked, the wagon rocking back and forth slowly. That was when Gavin
saw red eyes appear in the darkness, lighting up the shadows with its demonic
presence.

“Gah!” the soldier exclaimed, taking a step
backward. His scream was caught in his throat, and nothing came out other than
a gasp.

A flicker of flame appeared, bringing out
the light in the darkness. Gavin found himself face to face with a dark,
cloaked boy who looked about his age. But, how on earth was he holding fire in
his hand? Gavin stared at the flame in the boy’s palm, dancing calmly on his
skin. And why were this boy’s eyes red? Could it be that he was a member of the
Hayashi clan? Gavin had only read stories about them since they were killed off
when he was a young child. Supposedly, they were all dead. The clan was
extinct! But, despite the tales he had been told in his youth, this person
before him seemed to match the description.

The boy lashed out with a quick jab from
his left fist that came at Gavin’s face. The soldier grunted, reacting
accordingly and tilting his head. The blow flew past him. He whipped his sword
upward at the mysterious boy, watching as the flame died out and thrust him into
darkness. His blade sliced through open air, and sweat began to form on his
brow as he sat alone, consumed by an even thicker fog of blackness after being
blinded by the flame. Gavin blinked faster, trying to get his eyes to adjust to
the darkness. His heart began to race faster and his throat tightened as he was
haunted by the ominous silence. He was alone now, wasn’t he? The other caravan
members weren’t making any more noise.
Damn! What do I do? There’s nowhere
to run, and I can hardly….

A spark of flame appeared, and the soldier
realized that his face was inches from the boy’s. “Boo,” the mysterious person
said and drove his fist hard into Gavin’s diaphragm.

The blow sank deep into Gavin’s stomach, doubling
him over in agony. His mouth was open, ready to gasp in pain, but no sound came
out. He choked on any words that he had to say and fell forward, slamming hard
into the ground, gasping for air. Drool began to run down his chin as he looked
up weakly and saw that there were actually two boys standing over him. One of
them was wielding a metal bat and had flowing brown hair. The other was the
mysteriously cloaked boy. His eyesight kept blurring as he watched the boy,
trying to stay conscious for as long as he could. Focusing his vision, Gavin’s
eyes widened when he saw the lifeless corpses of his comrades that were lying
on the ground. Fear struck him and surged through his body, causing him to
begin breathing even heavier.

“We have a few questions for you,” the boy
with the bat said simply, squatting down and poking at Gavin’s face with the
end of his bat. “You’re the last survivor of this caravan. Unless you want to
die like the rest of them, I suggest you cooperate. You got that? You don’t owe
these Faar bastards anything, so you better answer truthfully. Otherwise….”

“Enough, Yata.”

“But…,” Yata muttered, glancing at Keimaro.

“You’ll scare him, and we won’t get
anything.” The boy sat down, leaning against a tree. He grabbed a rather large
stick off the ground and lit the entire thing on fire with a touch of his hand.
The light was blinding to Gavin after having been in complete darkness for
several minutes. “Hey, soldier, what’s your name?”

“G-Gavin….”

“Gavin? Right. All right, Gavin, we are
some impatient fellows. My name is Keimaro Hayashi. It doesn’t matter if you
know my name because, if you tell anyone of my existence, I’m cutting off your
tongue.” The boy raised an eyebrow. “You understand?”

“Y-Yes. I got it.”

“All right,” Keimaro said and pointed the
flaming stick toward his friend. “That’s Yata. When he gets impatient, he likes
to beat people with his bat until they say something. He starts from the bottom
up until everything is broken. I’m sure you don’t want that, right?”

These guys are absolutely insane,
Gavin thought. He nodded his head, fearing for his life. He didn’t
want to end up like the rest of his dead comrades. But, at the same time, he
realized he was being given too much information—which meant that these guys
probably wanted Gavin to stick around.

“Good. You’re in the army, right? That
means you have access to certain information.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Perfect,” Keimaro said with a smile,
tipping Gavin’s chin up so the soldier would look the boy in the eyes. “First
things first, there was a chest escorted from Bakaara to Bassada. Do you know
anything about this chest?”

“N-No … but I heard about it. They said
that it was really important cargo and that it was not to be opened. I heard
that it was delivered to the king personally. B-But it had nothing to do with
me! I swear it!” Gavin exclaimed, looking Keimaro in the eyes.

Keimaro could tell that the soldier was
telling the truth, just from the fear in his eyes, the quiver of his lips, and
the sincerity of his look. He smiled and leaned back against the trunk of the
tree. “I have yet to understand Faar’s government. Is the Bount organization
associated with the government in Faar?” An image of Tobimaru flashed in Keimaro’s
mind, and he gulped a mouthful of anger that arose in him.

“The Bounts? They’re a terrorist
organization that’s actually wanted by the Faar government. It’s been that way
for a while now,” Gavin said with a raised eyebrow. “We even have one of the
members in custody.”

Keimaro blinked for a moment, staring at
Gavin in disbelief. “What?” Gavin was still telling the truth … but how was
that possible? He specifically remembered the Faar army coming into Bakaara
because of the Bount organization. Could it have been that the Bounts weren’t working
with the Faar government? He remembered that Tobimaru had said that the Faar
army would come and destroy the village.

He exchanged a confused look with Yata and
sighed, shaking his head. He slowly stood up and extended his hand toward
Gavin. “You’re with us now. You’re going to help the both of us get into
Bassada. That chest belongs to me.”

“Why would I help two terrorists?”

“Terrorists?”

“You aren’t with the Bounts?”

“Who said we were?” Keimaro muttered.

“You’re wearing the cloak of one.”

“This was given to me by my father. It is
the cloak of a full-fledged Hayashi clan member, not of a Bount,” Keimaro
snarled. He knew the cloaks looked extremely similar, if not identical. But he
knew that he was nothing like the Bounts. “I want to find out what’s inside of
that chest. It belongs to me. Besides, if you don’t help us, I will just kill
you now.”

The soldier glanced down, and he sighed,
closing his lids. “Fine, fine.”

“You’re with us until I say otherwise. Even
the slightest hint of betrayal will end with your decapitation. Honestly, I don’t
have time for stupid setbacks,” Keimaro said, poking the corpse of a soldier
with his boot. “As you can see, I have no problem with taking the lives of
others.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, both of you, come here, and I’ll
tell you the plan.” 

***

The young princess of Faar sat in her golden
throne beside her father, her back straight. The throne room was a gigantic
circular room surrounded with an entire perimeter of soldiers who were fully
armed and trained in years of combat. They were an elite force known as the
Royal Guard that stood and protected the royal family every hour of every day.

The princess sighed as she leaned back, her
brunette hair falling down past her shoulders and toward her white dress that covered
her body down to her diamond slippers. She touched the small gold crown upon
her head, which was considered a baby’s in comparison to her father’s. Nevertheless,
wearing it and sitting upon this gold throne gave her a sense of authority, and
she liked it. Even though she didn’t do anything with her power, she always
felt that it was nice to have. She played with the hem of her dress for a
moment and then relaxed, folding her hands over her lap and resuming her
perfect posture in order to impress her father.

“Aika, you were at the village of Bakaara
four years ago, were you not?” the king said with a broad smile in her
direction. He leaned against the left arm of the throne. Aika’s eyes flitted to
the large, gold crown upon his head, which was much larger than hers with every
sort of different jewel embedded into it to make it glisten brightly. He had
curly, brown hair with a beard that came past his chin a bit, but not too far.
His royal blue eyes glowed with excitement like a young child’s as he extended
his hand to the far side of the throne room toward two massive doors. Each door
was the size of a cottage wall and was made of dark metal in order to fortify
the throne room in case of an invasion. The doors were strong enough to hold
out long enough to evacuate the royal family in case of an emergency.

Aika sighed and nodded in response to her
father, her blue eyes looking up at the sky and the bright morning sun, which
peered through a small, circular window in the ceiling and shone down into the
center of the throne room. Bakaara? She hardly even remembered the place since
she had been there for only one day. However, she remembered the two boys that
she had spent the whole day with. Her first adventure outside of the castle.

But the last thing she remembered was when
she had awoken in Yata’s house as she was being carried out by some of Faar’s
soldiers. In the distance, she could see the burning flames of the village that
she had seen fully intact only hours before. She had witnessed the complete
destruction of Bakaara. She remembered being carried by soldiers over piles of
corpses from the massacre. That specific image was burned into her mind, seared
forever. It haunted her in every nightmare. She had never learned what had
become of Keimaro and Yata. The chances were that they were probably dead. As
much as she hated to admit it, her two friends were probably among the
thousands of dead bodies she had seen on that day.

Had she known them along enough to be able
to call them friends? Well, they were definitely the first ones to stay true to
her. They hadn’t liked her because she was a princess. They hadn’t tried to
protect her just because of her status or how rich or important she was. They had
saved her life twice because they truly cared about her as a human being. After
the explosion of the meteor in the forest, they could’ve left her there to be
eaten by the dark creatures of the forest. But no, they took her to refuge. In exchange,
the soldiers of her own city had obliterated their home and probably taken their
lives as well. Why should she want to remember such a painful time? Bakaara was
the first time she had experienced the happiness of freedom and the wonders of
friendship. However, it was also the first time that she had felt pain and
loss. And it was the first time she had spent weeks crying herself to sleep,
haunted by the nightmares of her deceased friends.