Humayre: The Chronicles of Ronin Wilder

Marlens Way. It wasn’t a five hour cab ride, it was a five and half hour ride. Luckily Ronin had overestimated the cost per mile, he still had enough to get home.

“You can drop me here please,” said Ronin.

The cab slowed and pulled to the sidewalk.

Ronin paid and tipped the driver. The small bulbous man sped off without so much as a thank you. A gust of wind blew down the narrow two lane street swirling powdered snow into the air. Ronin stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. They poked through the bottom where his claws had torn. The wind crept up the opening and chilled his fingers. He cursed himself for forgetting to take his coat to the tailor.

Two story colonial style homes lined both sides of the street. Picket fences and snow covered lawns for far as the eye could see. Searching for any sign of Cyrus, Ronin began to fear the trip was an immense waste of time and money. He had no idea where to go or what he was looking for. He sniffed the air, nothing unusual or distinguishing. Then he had an idea. The wind was blowing at his back. That meant they couldn’t be behind him, he would have smelled something. If they were there, they had to be upwind.

As he walked, the wind blowing into his back, a strange feeling came over him. It was almost like Déjà vu. He was all but sure he’d been there before. One house, then the next, they seemed to grow in familiarity with each new one he passed. 11231 in white numbers just to the right of a red door. The number unlocked a myriad of memories. They came to him all at once. Birthday parties. Bicycle rides. Playing catch on the front lawn with his dad.

Ronin’s heart dropped. The two story house before him was the home he grew up in. In a dumbstruck daze Ronin opened the picket fence gate and made his way to the front door. A tree caught his eye. He focused. His initials were still carved in the trunk. Just below his initials were his fathers. He remembered the day like it was yesterday. His dad had just given him a Swiss Army pocket knife. To remember the moment he and his father carved their initials into the tree together.

A smell creeped into Ronin’s nostrils like an unwelcomed guest. It pulled him from his daydream. It was Cyrus’s. The scent was fresh, maybe thirty minutes old. Ronin grasped the door handle and turned. The red door creeped open. To Ronin’s surprise it was all there, just like in his faded memories. The couch. The dining table. Everything was exactly how it was when he lived there. Even the smell of his parents still lingered. It was as though the house was caught in a time warp.

A sick coppery scent caught Ronin’s attention, it was thick, fresh, and overpowering. Ronin could almost taste it. Fighting the urge to gag he covered his nose. Uncontrollable fear ignited his heart into a frenzy. His ears burned and his mouth dried. The scent let him know something terrible had happened. A voice sounded from around a wall. Ronin guessed it was coming from the kitchen.

“It’s too bad you rejected my offer. You could have made a valuable ally,” said a man’s voice.

Eager to find Cyrus, Ronin made his way through the living room and stopped at the kitchen door. Holding his nose closed he cracked the door just an inch and peered into the kitchen. On the laminate floor lay four men. They all wore BrighWood coats. In back of the kitchen, just in front of the refrigerator sat a tied up Cyrus in a wooden chair. Standing in front of Cyrus was a man. The man was at least six feet tall, slender and had long straight blonde hair that reached down to the center of his back. The man wore a white suit and white dress shoes. From where Ronin stood, he couldn’t see the man’s face.

The man in the white suit lifted a sword into the air. Ronin could tell right away that it was a Bloodsword. Before Ronin could take his next breath the man plunged the tip of his sword into Cyrus’s chest. Ronin yelled out and pushed the door open. As he ran into the kitchen he slipped on something wet and fell to the ground. As he slid he hit his head on a wooden cabinet. Before he could get to his feet the man in the white suit was standing over him. Two new smells burst into the room.

Two men grabbed Ronin by the arms and jerked him to his feet. The man with the white suit stood before him. His eyebrows were as black as night and his eyes were light blue. His cheek bones were angular and his nose was thin and pointed at the tip. Looking past the man Ronin found Cryrus. The Keiri was slumped over in his chair. Focusing all energy to his ears Ronin searched for a heartbeat. There was none. His friend was gone.

“And who might you be?” asked the man in the white suit.

Ronin pulled his gaze from Cyrus and just stared at the monster before him.

“Apparently your parents never taught you manners,” said the man in the white suit. He sized Ronin up. “Most know me as Raven. A few others by another name. To make matters simple how about you just call me Rave’s, or Ravypoo. You know what, scratch that. Let’s just keep it simple. You can call me Raven.” He held his hand out with a smile.

Ronin locked his arms into his sides. With every fiber of his being he hated Raven. Not only did he kill his parents but now one of his closest friends. The man to Ronin’s right forcefully lifted his arm so that Raven could shake Ronin’s hand.

Raven grasped Ronin’s hand and twisted it around. His gaze locked onto the tips of Ronin’s fingers. His eyes widened. He released his grip and grabbed Ronin’s face, twisting it right then left. “You are Myrian and Devin’s boy!” he said.

Ronin glared with his mouth clenched shut, his hate emanating off him like heat from an open flame.

“Simply amazing,” said Raven. “You have the look of your mother despite no genetic connection.” He took a step back and folded his arms. “They don’t know what you are, do they?” He raised his left black eyebrow. “Of course they don’t. If they did they wouldn’t have let you two feet from BirghtWood without an armed escort.”

“You killed my parents!” shouted Ronin. The anger exploded from him like a volcano. “You killed my friend.”

“Well of course I did you silly boy,” Raven motioned with his hand. The two men released Ronin. “Get me a rag or something,” said Raven to one of the men. The man grabbed a dish towel and threw it in the air. Raven caught the towel and wiped his sword clean.

Anger dulled Ronin’s wits. All he could think about was hurting the man who hurt his family, his friend. Bursting forward with all ten claws extending at once, Ronin swung with his right arm as hard as he could. Raven grabbed his wrist and twisted. The next thing Ronin knew his feet were in the air and his face was hitting wet linoleum. Ronin turned to his side and looked up. Raven stood over him smiling.

“Good try,” said Raven clapping his hands. “Bravo. You are quick. I will give you that. And those claws. Oh those delightful claws.”

The two men picked Ronin up and held him firmly in place.

Raven walked over and stopped inches from Ronin’s face. “Oh my friend. If you only knew what you were. Or even better, how.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Ronin. “You’re a psycho.” As the words left his mouth he wished he could take them back. As angry as a he was he still wanted to live.

“You are a failed experiment gone terribly right, my friend,” said Raven. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

The words were lost on Ronin, he didn’t care. Unable to look at Raven’s face any longer he lowered his eyes. “Why did you kill my parents?” His voice was sad and defeated.

“My boy. My boy,” said Raven. “Because I had to. You see. I expect absolute loyalty from my friends. When they are no longer able to give me what I want I have to deal with them with the way I see fit, which in your parents case, was a taste of my blade.”

“But why?” Ronin lifted his gaze from the floor. Hate burned bright in his blue eyes. “They were traitors. They were on your side. Why would you kill them?”

“Oh my boy,” said Raven. “You really don’t know anything do you?” He pat Ronin on the head. “Unwisely your parents decided that what I had planned was worse than what your beloved BrightWood had planned.” He rubbed his chin and chuckled. “I guess it was a case of choosing the lesser of two evils. Me of course being the greater. But you see, everything must be taken in perspective. Survival for me and my people necessitates any action needed to insure said survival. Your parents did not feel the same. At least at the end.”

“You’re a monster,” said Ronin. He glanced at the still body of his friend. “Why did you have to kill Cyrus? He was defenseless.”

“Because he did not want to listen to reason,” said Raven. He shook his head. “Are you sure you’re on the right side of things?” He rubbed his hands through his blond hair. “And let’s not throw that word monster around. You know what they say. Those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones?” He shrugged. “I think that’s how it goes. Anyway. Let…” Ronin interrupted.

“What evil? You said my parents chose the lesser evil. What does that mean?”

“Are you not hearing me boy? It means that I am going to ensure the survival of my people by any means necessary. They were not fans of what was necessary.” He waved his finger in the air condescendingly. “I sense that you have a lot of unanswered question. Which, considering BrightWood’s less than honorable workings, is of no surprise to me.” Reaching over his shoulder he lifted a little flap on the back of his suit and re sheathed his sword through the flap. “I know what you are and it’s not what they have told you. I also know everything about your parents, or whom you believe are your parents.”

Ronin furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t know what to believe, but he wanted to listen.

“Ahh,” said Raven. “I see I have struck a chord.” He adjusted the silver cuff link on his right wrist. “They are your parents and yet not your parents. An interesting dichotomy, don’t you think?”

Ronin glared in silence.

“But all of that is irrelevant,” said Raven. “What is relevant is what you are.” He smiled. “Now. What I have to offer is answers. And they are answers only a handful of people have.” He paused, seeming to form a thought. “You are conflicted about your parents. That much is obvious. Were they traitors? Were they doing what was right? I can answer these questions. I can also answer a question that only a few others in this world can. What are you? The answer is simple really. You were an experiment. A failed one. That’s what they believe. But what they don’t know is that you are so much more than that. You are a rebirth of something that hasn’t been seen in thousands of your earth years. Something that our world thought was wiped out long ago.” He smiled and folded his arms. “I think we can help each other. I will supply you with the answers you so desperately need and you wi…”

Ronin interrupted. “I’ll never help you!” he yelled. “I don’t care what you think you know.”

Raven stared at Ronin with an emotionless expression. “Very well. But are you sure your loyalties are well placed? The very people you put your trust in are the very people who would see you destroyed. They have developed a weapon that targets everyone with a particular type of Mayre in their blood. Humayre, Vein, even humans with trace amounts of Mayre, none of us are safe from this weapon. The people you think you can trust are conspiring to kill us all. Your parents knew this. Why do you think they left BrightWood.”

“You’re a liar.”

“I am a lot of things. A liar is not one of them. There is no honor in deceit. It is a mechanism used to protect the weak from fear. I will manipulate for my peoples protection. But I will not lie.” He stood, unsheathed his sword and walked towards Ronin.

Ronin’s heart jumped. Was this it? Was this the end? He wanted to cry out, to plead for his life but his throat constricted. With all his might he willed his words to come alive. “You’re going to kill me?” It was all he could get out. He clenched his jaw and hoped it wouldn’t hurt.

Raven lifted his sword. “I would sooner destroy my own lust rather than something as unique as yourself. When you discover part of the truth for yourself you will come back to me for the rest. Of this I am sure. ” He came down with the butt of his sword. It struck Ronin right between the eyes.

The last thing Ronin saw before the darkness took him was Cyrus’s Mayreblade laying as lifeless as its master.