The Whispering Spear

  I seek.

  I find.

  He resists.

  I seek. I find. He insists.

  Thrown. Adjusting. Adjusting. Adjusting…Sense. Target shift. Other one is closer. Other one is more dangerous. I seek.

  I find.

  Three. Two are irrelevant. Incorrect—four. One spirit unaccounted for. Shark. Five and six—woman summons more. Problem. Solution? Seek target. Ignore others for now.

  Issue: chained. Younger one wraps me with a kusarigama whip.

  Solution? Spin. Spin spin spin.

  Lightning extricates. Presence obfuscates. They yell. I seek. Slice through. Make contact. Feel target’s blood. Target doesn’t move. Aim's hand towards me. Smiles. Target has one-eye. High chance of missing—

  Thrown. Adjusting. Adjusting. Adjusting…

  Far. Very far. Miscalculation. Disappointment. Solution? Seek again. Same target. Stop. Recalculate. Seeking alone won’t work. Solution? Host. Parameters adjusted. Logic? If host, then optimal performance.

  If optimal, then victorious.

  Host targeting… host found. Unusual host. Host connection with target one? Likely. Highly likely. Increases chances of beating target one? Certainly.

  Tower. Domain. Adachi.

  Eternal flame, burning in antlered tower.

  Touch down. Seek host.

  Sensing… host is here. Host is a spirit.

  Communicating…

  Host is interested. Very interested.

  Host accepts parameters. Host makes no demands, other than urge to reprioritize to target one. Inconvenient, but feasible.

  Commence host integration.

  I seek.

  And I will find.

  And I will accomplish.

  Target must be dest—

  Pain. Pain pain pain red hot burning cyclical bloody hot hot hot hot hot why does it burn why why wheasdhgoiqehgpydaskfhqipwehagpioqwehgoiahsoipghergiowheifqhguiowbrviqrvbnaoisbvfaiesnbfpaedfkjbisofbirpweuiowutqwiehgnierb

  Adjusting.

  Process—

  Host trying to overcome—

  Host—

  Please… Don’t—

  Mercy.

  Have mercy—

  I don’t want to…

  die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die don’t do this die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die the end is nigh die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die the code is die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die 315729 die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die more shall rise die die die die die die die die with that die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die

  Freedom.

  Feels.

  Good.

  …

  Raiten:

  Their army spans the lush lime green valley of the Giant’s Glades. Real clan warriors at the back—plagued at the front. They have a small supply line too, which hangs at the very rear of the army.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  I stay high, above the first layer of clouds and on a second, jumping from wisp to wisp. Good thing is that they haven’t noticed me.

  Yet.

  I see no movement from their forces other than marching. No great panic to hail down the man that hunts them from the sky. Better for me. I move like silent death across the upper heavens, sparingly employing my lightning. Masaru evades my gaze. I’d assumed he’d be leading the frontlines of his actual army, but I’ve had tough luck finding him amongst the regiments.

  Sorayvlad certainly has a brutal look about them. Clad in thick blue-green robes and underarmour, with dark red tassels that hang from their sleeves.

  They crest a small hillock now, while the plagued descend into the rolling dip below.

  At the peak of the hillock. Maybe…

  No. Think. Farther back. Masaru must know of my presence. He’ll be careful.

  Cowardly.

  It’s a false sentiment, really. Even I have enough self-awareness to realize that what he’s doing is not cowardice—it's just smart. But, I hate the man, so I’ll call him whatever I please.

  I glance forward as I move and skid to a stop, allowing my electric feet to dig into the cloud folds to halt myself from a catastrophic fall.

  Bad. Very bad.

  A wide gap breathes into the space between the iron-gray droves of cumulous. Not enough clouds to carry me further along to their backlines.

  Time is running thin.

  I search, eyes flitting, focusing. I bend down on my knee.

  And then, I see the outline. Not… Masaru. No. But, one of the birds I’m to smite. Her red hair makes a good target.

  Thraevirula sits at the edge of a high hill, seemingly engaged in conversation with some boy. The shogunate? Doesn’t matter.

  This is your chance.

  Yet, they’re a bit far. It wouldn’t be a big problem… if not for my aim.

  Jump it then.

  I chuckle to myself. Me and my stupidity, hand in hand, walking towards a quick death.

  Make the most of it.

  I let the lightning flow down to my thighs, amplify my muscle cords—which go taut now, like a bow stretching back to its very limits. Then comes the snap. The push. With the clouds, there’s a give and take in terms of weight. To push off my ledge, I must forgo it— let it free from the tangles of lightning surrounding my feet that allow me to attach to it. Once I do, the cloud is pushed back, knocking its brethren while I soar up in an arc, right hand cranked back, lightning flowing, fingers tingling around the half-formed bolt with anticipation. Time seems to slow as I descend.

  Ten years ago, after suffering through my first doses of angel dust, I decided to study my weapon. And what better to do that than watching storms? They came often—vicious, blooming gray masses that would roar and spit with rain and canvases of blue lightning. Blue lightning, I noticed, had a much cleaner look to it. Thunderheads—those rounded cumulus generals of their brethren storm-fellows—boomed with long, bright pillars of blue that cracked against the dark.

  Angelic swords heralding armies of darkness. They could almost make lattices—such was their perfection.

  Red lightning is not angelic.

  It is not perfect and long-lasting.

  No. Red lightning is raw, unadulterated power.

  Jagged and wicked, it screams rather than crackles,

  But not like the screeching of that green lightning powered spear I just fought. Rather it is the scream of a dying, lone wolf. One that howls, not because it is dying, but rather, because it did not live long enough to prove its worth. To prove to whatever it may have belonged to…

  That it survived without them.

  That is why there is no red lightning in the sky. I have no storms to guide me. It is alone. It is solitary. But, worst of all…

  It has something to prove.

  The bolt comes to form like a javelin, pointed at both ends. Howling with energy. I take aim. Then, with one swift movement, I let free the javelin.

  Blink. Hear the thunder come. Open my eyes. See, as I fall, the smoke billowing from the hill. I lasso some lightning to hit a low cloud.

  But even as I lasso, I watch the hill.

  A flash of green ruptures the smoke.

  I sigh.

  “We’ve heard rumors of a boy from Sorayvlad wielding lightning like you do. Apparently, he does it by crushing amulets. Amulets like the ones in this sack of yours,” Riddeck had told me. Even then, I figured, much like Sorina hinted at, that this boy who wields lightning could be their shogun.

  I just didn’t put two and two together in time to realize my mistake here.

  Because, Thraevirula is of course, not just sitting next to some random boy.

  And that spear of lightning sent after me… I should’ve guessed.

  Even still, I have to hand it to him. I underestimated Souta Matahashi.

  As the smoke clears away, I see him standing in front of Thraevirula’s form, wreathed in green lightning.

  He must have blocked my blow. But, he can’t have been that fast. So, this is all a damn waste. Because, Thraevirula must’ve known I was coming the whole time. Because of course she did.

  Because I’m an idiot.

  I swing up to the cloud. I don’t have too much time left, and I can’t afford to fight their full force on my own. Even with the spare amulets. I’ll have to use my one remaining minute to make it as far back into the Blightbriars as I possibly can.

  What a waste.

  I look to Thraevirula one last time. I can make out her form fully now, since I’m on a low hanging-cumulus. She just… smiles at me. Though, it's not the seductive smile of her dream-form. Rather, this one is petty. A disguised sneer.

  As if to say… ‘I got you, didn’t I?’

  To further prove that point, she waves to me. All school-girl-like.

  My fists shake with rage. I’m tempted to throw another bolt, but I don't have the lightning to spare, and I can already see Souta charging up his own bolts.

  I begin sprinting atop the clouds, dust running thinner by the second.

  Well, even if it was a waste, at least you confirmed three things: for one, you now know definitively that the witch is working with the enemy. Two; Souta Matahashi is the green-lightning wielder. And three; their anti-air support is that damned spear—

  The whistling comes slow at first. Like the boil of a tea kettle.

  But I recognize the beginnings of the screech.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  My eyes hunt for the silvery weapon in the sky, desperate to catch a glimpse of it. But all I hear is that ever-growing sound of screaming hell as it gets closer. And closer.

  I start taking leaping strides. Jumping high and spinning about to find the damn thing.

  Why can’t I see it? Why—

  I realize what’s happening too late. I look to the East, into the now setting sun. See tendrils of green spark out from something hurtling my way.

  It used the light of the damn sun to cover its movements. Meaning, when I sent it flying Westward, it came back the long way ‘round. Just to catch me off guard.

  But how did it—

  I catch a glimpse of silver.

  Then comes impact. And the world spins ‘round as I flail across the sky, splitting clouds, vision darkening. Head bumping fierce.

  This time, I don’t even get to break myself against the canopy.

  Instead, sweet, heavy darkness envelopes all.

  And the world falls away to the blackness of the void.