Humayre: The Chronicles of Ronin Wilder

One day until The Tournament. One day until Ronin’s fate was decided.

A small woman, maybe five feet at the most, stood behind a large rectangle table. She was stitching tan bamboo armor plates to a chest piece. They stuck out amongst the other black color plates. Ronin figured she was making a repair. On the back wall above the rectangular table was a sign. It read Armor Works, the same sign was hanging outside the shop over the door.

It was only the second time Ronin had been in the shop. On his first visit he had dealt with Mark. He was nowhere to be seen. A tinge of nervousness overcame Ronin. What if they hadn’t finished his armor yet? Without armor he couldn’t enter the Tournament. Automatic expulsion would be his punishment if he wasn’t able to participate.

Rubbing his hands together and glancing around, Ronin wondered why he couldn’t just wear one of armor sets in the shop. The walls were covered with bamboo armor. They hung in rows ordered by their size. Pants, breastplates, helmets and gloves. All they needed was a black coat of paint to look just like his friends.

“Your armor is ready,” said the woman, glancing up from her work before returning to what she was doing. She wiggled the plate she had just sewn on. “What happened to your nose?”

With great care Ronin touched the gauze sticking out of both of his nostrils. “Training accident. Do I owe you anything for the rush order?”

“Nope.” The woman stopped what she was doing and headed for a door just behind her. “Mr. Wetstone took care of it.” She was about to open the door but stopped and turned around. She slicked her short grey hair back and straightened her brown leather apron. “I am so sorry.” She squinted, her eyes seemingly to study Ronin. “I’ve been so busy I have forgotten myself. My name is Sue. I own this dump.” She massaged her hands. “You dealt with Mark yesterday. He fills in for me when my blasted arthritis starts acting up.” Looking to her hands, she added, “The bonus of working in this trade for thirty years.”

“I’m Ronin Wilder. Nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are.” She smiled. “Five foot seven one hundred and thirty pounds. Favors his shoulders so needs a little less weight there. Fingerless gloves on account of those pig stickers you call nails. And your legs are a tad on the thin side. Need to make sure your thigh straps go in two notches.” She laughed to herself. “Been doing this a long time.” She nodded. “Be right back with your armor.” She disappeared into the back room.

That was weird. Pulling in a breath through his nose, Ronin winced. He’d forgotten about his injury. It was odd to smell only cotton and blood. He had quickly learned to rely on his sniffer. Most times he’d enter a room already knowing who was in it. Something soft underfoot caught his attention. Lifting each foot and then placing it down, he wondered how he didn’t notice it before. The black carpet beneath his feet felt strange. It had been months since he felt anything like carpet. Armor works was the only place in BrightWood that did not have wooden or stone floors. Ronin shuffled his feet and felt the hairs on his arms raise. He touched one of the metal hangers holding a bamboo helmet and received a shock. Trying to ease his nerves his eyes found a welcomed distraction. In the center of the carpet was a white crest of arms. The contrast between black and white was striking. He wondered what the crest meant.

“Here you go,” said Sue. She was holding a large black duffel bag.

Pulling his gaze from the carpet Ronin was instantly filled with excitement when he saw what Sue was holding. “Is the bag mine too?”

“Sure is,” she said. As Ronin approached her she tossed the bag at his feet. “Mr. Wetstone upgraded you. You got the full package.”

Picking up the bag, Ronin wondered what the full package meant. “Thank you,” he said. With bag hoisted over his shoulder he all but ran out of Armor Works. He couldn’t wait to get back to his room to try everything on and to see what exactly the full package entailed.

Helmet, breastplate, legs and fingerless gloves spread across Ronin’s bed like induvial trophies. The armor was black, just like his friends, but something was different. Instead of being a matte black it was shiny. It appeared to have a translucent coating over the paint.

Ronin picked up his helmet. He thought about putting it on again. It would’ve been the fourth time. He couldn’t get enough of how amazing he looked in it. A soft knock came from the door. Once again Ronin was taken aback, he always knew someone was at the door before they knocked.

“Come in,” said Ronin.

The door opened. There stood Mrs. Kinney. Ronin jumped off the bed and ran to her. He grabbed her arm and helped her to his bead. “I didn’t know they were letting you out today. If I would’ve known I would have met you.”

She smiled. “I wanted to surprise you.” She eased down on to Ronin’s bed. “Wanted to wish you good luck. I know tomorrow’s your big day.” Her eyes squinted. “Baby. What happened to your nose?”

Ronin took a seat on Gus’s bed right across from Mrs. Kinney. “Just a training accident. I’m okay. It’s not broke or anything.”

Shaking her head, Mrs. Kinney said, “You be careful you hear. Can’t have you all broken up.” She smiled. “How do you expect to win Grace over, if you’re all beat up?”

Ronin smiled, but it quickly vanished. The weight of the world felt like it might crush him. Aside from his problems with Grace and Raven he had Mrs. Kinney to worry about. If he was expelled, she would no longer receive her checks from the contract he signed. What if she was reliant on that money now? The guilt was so bad Ronin couldn’t look Mrs. Kinney in the eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

Ronin shook his head as he stared at Mrs. Kinney feet. “I’m scared I might lose tomorrow.” He glanced up for a moment before returning his gaze to the floor. “If I don’t get to the fourth round they will expel me. I’ll never get to see my friends again. I wo…”

Mrs. Kinney interrupted. “Oh, baby. Have you already forgot everthin’ I’ve taught you.” She pulled herself off the bed and took a seat next to Ronin. “You got to fake it until you make it, baby. If you speak the I cant’s and the I wont’s, that’s all you’ll ever have.” She grabbed Ronin’s hand and squeezed tight. “No more of that nonsense. From this moment on I want you to tell yourself you’re gonna win. Tell yourself you can. No more of these I cant’s.” She pulled his hand up and kissed it. “You wouldn’t be here unless this was where you were supposed to be. You got that baby? I don’t wanna hear any more of that I can’t nonsense.”

“Yes ma’aam.” A calmness came over him that only Mrs. Kinney could bring out. She always made him feel like everything was going to be alright.

“Whatever happens is supposed to happen,” she said, as she massaged her hands together. “You got that?” She stared into his eyes. “The first moment I met you I knew the world had big plans for you. But those plans can’t come together if you live in fear and doubt. You got to have faith, baby. Faith that you were made for big things.”

“How do you know? How are you so sure?”

“I can’t explain it, sugar.” She massaged her hands. “I just know.”

Something in her eyes made Ronin believe her.

The door handle clicked. In walked Mr. Wetstone with two men Ronin had never seen before.

“Okay Mrs. Kinney,” said Mr. Wetstone. “We need to get you back to the hospital now.”

The two men came in and helped her to her feet. Ronin stood and gave Mrs. Kinney a hug.

“Can she come watch me in the tournament tomorrow?” asked Ronin, looking to Mr.Wetstone.

“It’s against regulations,” said Mr. Wetstone. “I am sorry. If it were up to me I would say yes. But. I don’t make the rules.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll see you after. You come and tell me right away how you did. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ronin held Mrs. Kinney’s hand as the two men walked her to the door.

“Okay, sweetheart.” She kissed the top of Ronin’s hand. “Positive thinkin’. You got that baby?”

“Yes maa’am.”

The two men escorted her out and closed the door behind them.

Mr. Wetstone walked around the room. He inspected the fireplace and then Ronin’s bookshelf. He stopped at Ronin’s trunk and stared at it for a moment before turning to Ronin. “I’ve got some bad news which I am sure you are already aware of. Despite the obvious redundancy, it is my job to inform you none the less.”

Ronin knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Your marks have fallen below the threshold needed in order to remain at BrightWood. As it stands now the only way for you to avoid expulsion is to get to the fourth round of the Tournament. A third round victory well net you enough points to pass.”

“I know,” said Ronin. His face flushed. He was embarrassed that he was failing out.

“Just so you know,” said Mr. Wetstone. “It is of my opinion that you were not given an equal opportunity considering your obvious limitations. I petitioned for you to be judged based on your potential but was rejected.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” Ronin was appreciative that Mr.Wetstone obviously went out of his way to help him.

“They are very strict with policy here,” said Mr. Wetstone. He folded his arms and his voice grew stern. “They have to be careful you see. Some people just aren’t fit to handle the life of a Humayre.”

The claws on Ronin’s right hand extended and his forehead wrinkled in anger. It was bad enough he might fail out but now they were telling him he wasn’t good enough. It may have been true but Ronin hated when someone told him he wasn’t good enough or couldn’t do something.

“I am fit to handle it,” snapped Ronin. “I’m going to get to the fourth round tomorrow. You’ll see.”

“I respect your determination,” said Mr Wetstone. “But in order to get to the fourth round you will have to have defeated at least one Vein.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. His expression softened. “No student has ever beaten a Vein in the Tournament.”

“I don’t care. I will.”

Mr. Wetstone nodded and smiled. “I believe that you believe,” he said. “With all of that said, I have some other matters I would like to discuss with you.” He looked to the fireplace. “With the possibility of you being expelled tomorrow I feel that you deserve to know what we discovered.” He cleared his throat. “Considering you are the reason we uncovered any of it.” He straightened himself up and in a more sarcastic tone, added, “Which apparently they also won’t factor in when examining your records.”

Ronin held silent.

Mr. Wetstone paced between Ronin’s trunk and the fireplace. “We have evidence that Raven’s agents raided the BioStorm lab right after Dr. Grey fled. Based on our video footage, we think they may have stolen some weapon blueprints. We don’t think they were the WM blue prints because we are fairly certain Dr. Grey took them, but we can’t be sure.”

Ronin interrupted. “WM?”

“Weaponized Mayre. It’s the weapon you warned us about.”

“Could the Vein use it against us if they did get it?”

“No. It would kill them as well. But that’s not what has us worried.” Mr. Wetstone rubbed his temples. A look of grave concern came over his face. “Raven has been trying to unite the Den’s for over fifty years. He has always failed. The Vein see no need for war when the very thing they would be fighting for they already have. The only thing that could unite them is the threat of extinction.”

“The proof of the weapons existence gives Raven what he needs to unite them,” said Ronin, asking as much as telling.

“Exactly.” He started to pace again. “If the Vein come together the world will end as we know it. With the numbers they have they will be able to black out the world. The terrible thing is. That’s all they would have to do. If the world was instantly devoid of all technology hundreds of millions would die in the first month. All societal structures would collapse leading to worldwide anarchy. But that’s not even the worst of it. After uniting, the Vein would conquer the strongest nations first, killing everyone who they see as a threat and enslaving the rest.”

“How many Vein are needed for that to happen?” asked Ronin. His eyes were wide with fright.

“At least a thousand for a full global black out.” Shaking his head, Mr. Wetstone continued, “There are a lot of things we don’t teach at the school. Things we try to protect the students from until they are ready.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The Vein in the United States are tame compared to what’s out there in the rest of the world. You have no idea of the horrors instore for the world if they were to ever come into power. Most Den’s think of humans as cattle. Not only would they enslave the human race, they would also use them as a food source.”

The thought of being eaten like a steak forced Ronin’s heart into his throat. “So how do we know if Raven found proof of the weapon?”

“We will know in the next few days. Most don’t know this but we have Vein allies. Contrary to what BrightWood teaches not all Vein are monsters. If Raven has found any proof of the weapon he will immediately start recruiting for his cause and we will hear about it.”

“What about Dr. Grey? What if he uses the weapon? Or what if Raven doesn’t have proof of the weapon yet and finds Dr. Grey and takes the proof he needs?”

“There is no weapon without our specific Mayrestone and there is no way Dr. Grey could ever get it now. As far as Raven finding Dr. Grey, well, we have the same concerns. We have already started a massive man hunt. Hopefully we will find Dr. Grey before Raven does.”

Mr. Westone pat Ronin on the shoulder. “I know it’s a lot to take in. All we can hope is that Raven did not find those plans.” The armor on Ronin’s bed grabbed his attention. “I see you picked up your armor. Everything fit okay?”

“It all fits perfect.” Ronin picked up his helmet and nervously rotated it in his hands. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Hopefully it will serve you well.” He watched Ronin for a second before continuing. “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” said Ronin, not taking his eyes from his helmet.

An awkward silence fell over the room. Ronin could tell Mr. Wetstone wanted to say more but for some reason was unable to.

“Okay then,” said Mr. Wetstone. As he exited the room, he mumbled something under his breath.

Ronin hardly noticed, he was too consumed by what he had just heard. Not only did he have to worry about getting kicked out of school, he now had to worry about the end of the world and the possibility that one day he might be someone’s snack.