Humayre: The Chronicles of Ronin Wilder

Ronin spun around. It was too late. The butt of Marius’s sword crushed into his forehead. Staggering back, Ronin lost his footing and collapsed into a stagnant puddle. Marius smiled as he stalked towards his victim. Shadows crept to the edges of Ronin’s eyes. Darkness fluttered in and out, consuming his vision. Sitting forward he tried to will the strength back into his arms to pick himself up, but he was too weak.

The Bloodsword glimmered in the faint light cast from above. Hurried footsteps echoed from down the alley. Marius stopped his approach and focused on the noise coming towards them.

Strength was finding its way back to Ronin. The darkness eased away like a departing storm. He hobbled to his feet. Marius turned his attention back to Ronin. Pulling his sword to his side, tip pointing to the sky, he rushed towards his victim. Staggering back Ronin tried to get away, but there was nowhere for him to go. The claws on all ten of his fingers drew long. They were ready, but Ronin was not. A dimness attacked his vision and the ground seemed to sway. The stability in his legs wavered and he had to focus on not falling.

“Ronin!” shouted Cyrus.

The alley turned on its side. Ronin was falling. Just before he hit damp asphalt the darkness took him.

The clang of metal against metal brought Ronin back to his senses. Scuttling back until he hit something solid he scanned his surroundings. Cyrus and Marius were locked in combat.

The high pitch screech of metal against metal reverberated through the alley with every slash and parry. Somersault, to cross-body slash. Thrust, to dodge, to two-hand over head strike. Cyrus’s attacks were athletic and relentless. Marius on the other hand seemed to be struggling with Cyrus’s speed and was rooted in place. Every block from the Vein included a grimace. An overhead two-handed strike aimed for Marius shoulder was parried by the Vein. Using the momentum from the parried attack Cyrus spun and let loose a blindingly quick strike across Marius’s body. The Bloodsword clanged out as it bounced off the asphalt. A thud quickly followed. Marius lay face down in a puddle.

“Get up,” said Cyrus, looking to Ronin. “We need to get out of here before more come.” He pulled a small cylinder out of his coat pocket. The end ignited into a bright light. Aiming the light at Ronin’s head, he added, “Hold on.” He used his Mayreblade to cut a small piece of fabric from his undershirt. “You’re bleeding.” He handed Ronin the piece of shirt. “Put that on your head. Can’t have any un-needed attention.”

A pinpoint sting came alive on Ronin’s forehead. Next came the throbbing as he placed the makeshift bandage on his head. A headache as bad as he’d ever felt pounded in his temples as the adrenaline dissipated.

“It’s not that bad. Nothing a few stitches can’t fix,” said Cyrus. “You’re lucky that’s all you got.” A scowl formed on his face. “What in Hades were you thinking?” He sheathed his sword and rubbed his hand through his black hair. “Never mind don’t answer that. We need to go. Can you walk? Or better yet, can you run?”

“I think so,” said Ronin. His head hurt so bad he could hardly think, but for some reason an odd thought came to mind. “How did you find me?”

“I followed you from the theater. I knew you were up to something when you said you were sick.” He grabbed Ronin’s shirt and forced him to walk towards the street at the end of the alley. “Sneaky little weasel.”

Sirens sounded out in the distance. First they started off faint, but quickly grew in intensity.

“They are coming this way,” said Ronin.

“Run!” said Cyrus

They burst through the alley and were about to turn the corner when a huge man blocked their path. It was the behemoth who let Ronin into O’Shea’s Pub. The Bloodblade held at his side glistened in the streetlight.

“Brahm,” said Cyrus.

The awe in Cyrus’s voice made Ronin nervous. Usually Cyrus was the epitome of cockiness, but at that moment he was more like a kid running into someone famous.

“I’m afraid I don’t know you,” said Brahm. “That doesn’t bode well for your survival.”

Three black and white cars with blaring sirens and flashing lights came to a screeching halt. Armed men jumped out of the vehicles and stood behind their opens doors.

“Drop you weapon and put your hands on your head,” shouted one of the cops.

In an instant everything shut down. The street lights, the lights in the windows, even the cop cars red and blue lights all stopped working. It was a complete blackout.

Shouts and screams echoed in the darkness. The sounds of struggle and of things hitting the street spread through the air like a disease.

“My guns. Jammed. I need back up,” one man shouted.

A bright light exploded out from the void. It was coming from Cyrus’s little cylinder. “Run where I’m shining the light,” said Cyrus. The brightness momentarily blinded Ronin.

Rubbing his eyes, Ronin asked, “What happened to the all lights?”

“Techno Suppression,” said Cyrus.

Ronin knew what it was, but it was the first time he ever actually saw it effect something. The powerless school had become normal for him and he took for granted that Techno Suppression was working its magic there as well.

“Wait,” said Ronin. “How’s your flashlight looking thing working then?”

“Mayre,” said Cyrus. “And it’s not a flashlight.”

More screams coupled with the unmistakable sound of a sharp object slicing through air found Ronin’s terrified ears. Just as his legs were about to follow Cyrus’s command his conscious held him still.

“Stop,” said Ronin. His heart pounded out of control. “They sound like they need our help.”

“They are already dead,” said Cyrus. “And we are next if we don’t run.” He paused and added, “Brahm is a class three Vein.”

“What’s that mean? I don’t even know what that means.” He was disgusted with Cyrus for not wanting to help. “I’ve seen you fight. You’re like unbeatable.”

“I’m far from it,” said Cyrus. “I’m not arguing with you. If you don’t start running I’m going to leave you in the darkness and let Brahm decide your fate.”

An idea popped into Ronin’s head. Maybe he could sneak up on Brahm and do a little damage and then run. The behemoth would never know what hit him. It might be enough to help the cops.

“Don’t get any bright ideas,” said Cyrus. “Vein can also see in the dark.”

For a second Ronin wondered if Humayre could also read minds. From the corner of his eye he could see Brahm taking huge swings with his Bloodsword. Four cops were already down. Cyrus was right and Ronin knew it in his heart. If they didn’t run, Brahm would kill them both. The thought of dying terrified Ronin. He wasn’t ready to give up his life so quickly. As Ronin sprinted behind Cyrus disgust and disappointment consumed him. He wondered how he could ever face Mrs. Kinney again.