The Rising Sun: Episode 3 (2 page)

“Yeah.” he answered with a snort. “It was a
bit too easy. What about you?”

Monaz frowned. “My assassination almost got
goofed up.”

“What do you mean ‘almost’?” asked Alcrox, a
short Iveling boy sitting in another rugged wooden chair at the
corner of the small hut.

“Cops?” asked Ion.

Monaz nodded, and then smiled suddenly. “Oh,
I showed them why they shouldn’t have messed with me.”

“Of course you did,” said Ion. “If you
didn’t you wouldn’t be a mystic.” He turned to Alcrox. “What about
you, Al? Did you kill the target Crooger gave you?”

“Oh, I had a hurdle or two along the way,”
said Alcrox. “But I got him at the end. Little squib almost wet
himself when he found out it was no ordinary bounty hunter comin
after him.”

The three of them laughed cruelly.

They sat idle for some time, and a bored
silence fell over the hut.

Bounty hunters were common. And so were
bounty hunters who lived together in groups. But bounty hunter
groups who were all mystics … Now there was something unusual. And
terrifying.

Ion was living with four other young mystic
boys his age. And the five of them, together, were successfully
spreading fear far and wide across the spectrum. The five of them
worked as bounty hunters and assassins, helping to hunt down
targets for various illegal organisations across the spectrum.
Crime lords, terrorists, and plenty of other members of the
criminal underworld hired them for tracking down people they
wanted, and for killing them. And the fact that they were mystics,
contrary to scaring normal people away, attracted crime bosses and
terrorists to them. They flocked to them for services such as
hunting and killing, having realised the true value of their
supernatural powers.

To the rest of the world, they were nothing
but a menace, a class of different creatures who were meant feared
and kept away from. To the rest of the world, they had no value …
but Ion and his friends found their value here. In the criminal
world of thugs, crime lords and terrorists. In this world, they and
their powers were supremely valued. And they were generously paid
for as well. Countless illegal employers made use of their mystic
powers to help have their targets hunted down, or assassinated.
This was where they belonged, and where they always would.

The world had shunned them, for being
different. For being mystics. They had been cast out, condemned,
prosecuted … and they had suffered for the sole reason that the
rest of the world could not accept what they were. They had no
place in that world, which hated and feared them. But the group of
them had found their true place and their purpose here. In casting
terror back into the hearts of those in that world that had
condemned them. This was their message to the rest of the world.
This was their way of repaying the treatment they had received from
the rest of mankind. They saw no reason to show mercy to anyone
living out there … and they would enjoy every drop of blood they
shed amongst the people of that cruel, cold world.

Ion felt a twitch rise to his face.

He shook off the heavy whirl of thoughts,
and brought his attention back to the present. They were waiting
for the last two members of their gang, who were out with their
hunts and assassinations.

“Your brother should have finished his
assassination by now.” Ion said, turning to Alcrox. “Why isn’t he
back yet?”

Alcrox gave a grunt of laughter. “He
probably took off on another hunt. Try calling him.”

Ion drew out his z-com and dialed. The call
was answered, and a holographic screen came to life over his z-com,
staring out of which was a thin face.

“You done yet?” asked Ion. “we’re waiting
for you.”

“Yeah, I’m almost at the hut now.” he
responded, nodding. “I’ll be there in less than a minute.” The line
disconnected, letting the holographic screen fade back to
nothingness.

Alcrox’s brother and Ion were the unofficial
leaders of this group … and the greatest of friends as well. The
bond of friendship between them was deeper than any other.

Less than a minute later, the flimsy wooden
door of the hut they had built swung over, and a young Iveling
strode in.

“Talk about a long day.” commented Vonayz,
chuckling.

Marion and his wife had tried everything.
They had gone from healer to healer, searching the entire village
for an answer. For a cure. Because they knew it couldn’t be
otherwise … the price to be payed, if they could not bring a stop
to this, was far too great. But after scouring the village, and
seeking the counsel of countless trained healers, they came to
accept the disastrous truth. This was not a disease … This was
nothing they could cure. There was only one possibility.

“
Ion is a mystic.” Marion had whispered
to his wife, Selia. And a veil of foreboding seemed to rise before
them.

“
It can’t be…” Selia whispered back, the
blood drained from her face.

Looking sweet and harmless as ever, their
twin boys Ion and Eol sat opposite to the couple, looking at their
parents with their beautiful orange eyes. They were the couple’s
greatest treasure and love. Their single greatest source of joy in
this world. Ion and Eol. The two beautiful twins, with crimson
hair, orange eyes and pleasant smiles ever on their lips. The twins
were the only reason Marion and Selia even rose every morning to
address a new day…

The two boys had reached Marion and Selia
through a miracle. A miracle that shaped the twins’ upbringing from
the start itself…

The couple had had no children of their own.
And they had never asked for any either … But years back, something
happened, which gifted them with the miracle of these two children
… A disaster. A disaster the village would never forget for
years.

The deadly fire that had broken out in the
orphanage nearby had claimed all of the lives in it. All its
toddlers had been killed mercilessly in it. All … except two.
Covered in cloths as infants, two beautiful twins, Ion and Eol were
the only two survivors of the disastrous fire that had ripped apart
the nearby orphanage. Marion and Selia had witnessed them, and had
realised something through their wizened years.

This was no accident.

Fate had decided to spare these two children
for a reason.

And so, accepting the call of fate, and
striving to aid it, they had decided to adopt the two homeless
infants who had survived the fire. They had been old, but they knew
that this was something that had to be done … for they knew that
these two infants would one day grow up to become men who changed
the world. Why else would God have spared them that day?

And so, intending to aid God in his plan,
the two had adopted Eol and Ion, and had decided to raise them with
the firmest of principles and values. Love. Kindness. Selflessness.
They knew that Ion and Eol would use these principles that the
elderly couple taught them, these
weapons
, to change the
world one day, make it a far better place … they knew it.But this
tragic day, they had been proved wrong. And everything they knew
was now teetering on the dangerous edge of collapse.

For if Ion was truly a mystic … then
everything would change. Their entire family would be in danger …
but not as much danger as Ion himself would be in.

“
We have to hide it.” Selia hissed into
Marion’s ear, her eyes unmoved from her foster son across the
table. Ion was sitting beside Eol, and the two of them stared back
identically at the elderly couple with their innocent, loving eyes,
completely unbothered, and unperturbed. Blissfully ignorant of the
problem that was now thundering in the house. “We can’t let the
other villagers know … or - or…” Selia seemed to choke with the
words in her throat.

Marion patted his wife gently. “They won’t.
Don’t worry, Selia, we’ll keep it secret.” They had to. For the
sake of their foster son. To protect him from a world where others
like him were subjects of great fear and mistreatment. If they
found out, the rest of the villagers would have to hand Ion over to
the authorities, for their own sakes as well: because the law made
clear that even those found guilty of harbouring, or protecting a
mystic would be punished. The rest of the village could never
know…

“
Nobody will know.” Marion assured, his
deadened stare fixed on their son. “Nobody can know.”

But they had been wrong … terribly
wrong.

The village of Crados was gripped by a
furious frenzy, a frenzy mingled with panic, when it rose to the
surface. When the secret got out, that one of the adopted two kids
of Marion and Selia was … one of them. One of those superhuman,
dangerous creatures.

The authorities of the planet they lived
in surged in less than an hour after the news burst out … and Ion
was dragged away, weeping, from his family. But they didn’t stop
there. For some reason, the Naxim authorities weren’t satisfied
with only Ion. they believed for some reason, that the condition
was shared by both of the twins … and that Eol, too, was also
affected by his twin brother’s disease, that he too, was
contaminated
. The mystical powers that Ion had, Eol too had to
have, they believed … The proof of this, nobody knew. But the
Naxim’s mercilessness had spiralled to a new height. They had
blinded themselves to the pleas and cries of the elderly
couple.

The two boys, Ion and Eol, had been ripped
from their homes, and their parents. Marion and Selia wailed their
anguish out as they watched cruel fate rip them from their sole
source of life in their world. The elderly couple shook with sobs
as the two boys were was chained up, tossed brutally at the back of
the van and driven away from them … forever. Ion could have
endured, at least, if he had been placed together with his dear
brother, whom he found strength in. As long as they were together,
the two of them, they would brave whatever came as one … as long as
they at least had each other, things would be all right, right? But
… no. The Naxim had taken the two boys to two separate prison
stations, keeping them away from not only their parents, but from
each other. From everything they had loved. Now, the two of them
were alone. Alone as could be. And then came the agony…

“
So … Where do we begin?” commander Rox
leered, bearing down on a helpless Ion placed at the corner of the
prison cell. He had a well toned, heavy physique and a brutish,
merciless demeanor. His cold yellow eyes seemed to glint with
malice as he looked down over the shivering, frost bitten eight
year old boy.

“
I’m your prison supervisor …
unfortunately.” He seemed to revel in the Ion’s inner carnage,
enjoying the brutal effect of his words on the boy. “You have been
found guilty of treason in the name of law … And nature itself.” He
sighed tragically. “The law states that mystics are to be hung
immediately on discovery. But unfortunately the exception is those
well underage. It’s a little too bad, I would have well preferred a
quick exit … Compared to what’s gonna happen to you now.”

“
W - What?” Ion needed to force the words
out from the bottom of his stomach, as he shivered in despair.
“What’s happening t-to me?”

Rox’s dreadful leer grew wider. And he bent
down over the boy, bringing his face mere inches from him. “You’re
gonna be experimented upon … we need to find out why you’re so…” He
stopped for a rough chuckle. “So … wrong.”

“
There’s n- nothing wrong -”

“
Shh.” Rox placed a finger to seal Ion’s
lips, making a cold feigning of an assuring loved one here to help.
“Don’t talk now … It’s almost started.”

They had conducted experiments on the
eight year old boy. Ruthless, savage experiments to find out what
made him such. They had placed him in simulated environments, dream
like states of a gory, savage nature. They had put him in illusions
to study his brain wave patterns, and to determine what made it
such. They had even tampered him bodily, subjecting him to
electrocution and various other forms of crude inhumane treatment,
meant for finding out what gave him such supernatural abilities.
They were unwilling to digest the simple, beautiful fact that these
abilities were not of the body, but of the
mind
. They
couldn’t accept the fact that people such as him could live among
them in peace … and so they tortured him. Day after day.
Experiments. Simulations. Electrocutions. Ion’s life would have
been described by one sheerly simple word.

Hell.

And it went on, grinding him through years
of misery…

And he lost all hope, all life, and all
light. He was turned into a mere sack of bones, thin and skeletal,
with rumpled crimson hair. His sweet orange eyes now seemed to burn
on the inside. He had become something beside human and emotional.
Nothing existed inside of him, his mind and his dreams, but a swirl
of darkness and disgust. Hatred for everything around him. His life
had been shattered. Pain itself had become his world.