Another Time

“Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.”

• Carl Jung

“It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell.”

• Buddha

“Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.”

• Steve Jobs

_“Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did

Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid

I'm still standing after all this time

Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind”_

• Elton John

Prologue: Origin

“I remember the day we first met. It was beneath that lemon tree. You told me that when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. I told you I liked lemons. You just laughed.

“I remember the day we first met. The sky was on fire. The world was ending. People were dying. My dad wasn’t there. He was off fighting. I was alone.”

“I remember the day we first met.”

“It was the day you died.”

• Jack Denver Clarke

Silver Sniper(Alex)

Broken

The air was acrid with the smell of ash and fire. Once mighty eldertrees were a flame and crumbling. Each one once had trunks that could consume entire homes with treetops that could blanket the entire skyline but now they only served to fuel the inferno with their emerald leaves falling from their withering branches like black snow. Homes that had once held the pitter patter of young paws and rooftops that barely contained the laughter of children were now burning mausoleums.

So many dead. A war that spanned countless miles across the vastness of the Void. Almost every Station of Tower Thirteen was under siege. If it wasn’t the demon at the doorstep of Haven then it was the insurgents on the other Stations. The once mighty Church of the Tower was reduced to a few cowering zealots and fanatical warriors eager to throw themselves into battle without a care for their own wellbeing.

But there were those that rose to seek order. Not faithful of the Church. No. These men and women were just people who did not want to die, did not want to see their homes burned and wanted to keep the future of their children from turning into a grim. They organised themselves with the remnants of the armed forces and quickly became a standing military.

These very same men and women charged through the burning remains of the little suburb, barging into homes and firing their rudimentary weapons or throwing spells to drive what few demons remained on the premises. Soldiers in an assortment of gear hobbled together from different pieces of armour they could salvage dodged in and out of burning two-storey, cookie-cutter, houses carrying the poor souls before jumping right back into the flames. They fought with fear. Fear that there would be no future for their loved ones.

Alexander Clarke counted himself amongst their ranks. The 7’5’’, heavily built Wulfun fought as hard as he could to keep the demons at bay. He travelled far and wide and even found himself on Stations he never thought he would visit in an attempt to bring stability and order back to Tower Thirteen. But it was never enough.

There was always war around the corner.

And that war had come to his doorstep, to his home.

He watched the little suburb of Eternity Creek burn around him. Occasionally there would be scream or a gunshot that would pierce the cacophony of roaring flames. Demons – twisted, vile and with bright, fiery purple eyes – would suddenly leap out from the flames and try to feast on the flesh and soul of the closest unlucky person. But his soldiers were hardened by the war and the creature would fall dead before it could sink its yellowed teeth into another citizen of Haven.

Alex peered sadly as skilled Hydromancers did their best to quench the flames roaring around them. The massive trees stretched too tall however, and any smoke would dissipate before it could ever reach their all-consuming canopies. This left the skies covered in a thick haze of smoke, giving the demons perfect cover to sneak in and attack. One of the many reasons why Alex and his soldiers hadn’t spotted the demonic incursion.

“Alex!”

His thoughts were wrenched back to the present. Heart racing madly in his chest, he caught sight of Rayne Noam. Like the rest of what was being called his ‘elite squad’, the 6’7’’ human was dressed in an assortment of light-weight armour. Unlike the rest of his men, though, the sable-haired man was not armed with any weapons whatsoever. Rayne could kill anything with his bare hands alone; a fact that his fit, athletic figure belied.

The look on Rayne’s face spoke volumes.

“Please…” Alex pleaded softly.

His friend could not meet his gaze. Alex’s pounding heart jumped to his throat and he charged past Rayne rushed past the all too familiar fence that his son insisted that they paint red to set them apart from all of the other blue fences. He stormed up the red brick pathway, leaping over the dead demon whose blood was quickly corroding the familiar stonework. The front door had been blown off its hinges and there were scorch marks around the doorframe. No lights were in the house save for those that emitted from the barrels of his soldiers’ guns. One of his men caught sight of him and elbowed the other standing next to him. They immediately snapped to attention, respectfully sidestepping and slamming their fists against their chests with three fingers extended – the salute for Havenese’ military.

Alex gave them a brief nod and swept past them. The sulfuric smell of demonic blood mixed with burnt flesh filled the air. The house was not afire but that only made him fear for what other reason the demons had used this place for. He passed what had once been his bedroom and choked back the bile building in his chest as he briefly caught sight of what looked like a pile of corpses. Ragged, bloody claw marks were drawn across the walls and he didn’t even dare looking into the room at the end of the hallway. He just bypassed them all to where his soldiers were standing – the door to the basement.

“Sir –” began one of the heavily armed men.

“Let me through,” he growled, fangs bared. The two highly trained, highly-skilled soldiers exchanged glances of doubt before slowly shuffling aside.

Each step down to the basement filled his heart with more and more trepidation. There was blood everywhere and some of it was the foul, black goo of a demon’s. Every instinct demanded that he avert his eyes from the sprawled bodies on the floor, jagged nails made of some unholy purple stone jabbed through their palms and eye-sockets but he had to find his son. Much to his relief none of the poor souls enshrined in terrible ritual circles were that of Jack Denver Clarke.

Before he could ask where JD was, his eyes fell upon the centre of the room.

“No…” he breathed.

His wrists held up by some black rope, his son hung from the ceiling, naked and with crimson blood coating his once-pure-white fur. Ragged wounds were drawn all over his body, some from blade and others from burns. It looked like the demons had taken large chunks out of his flesh. They had shaved his bright, youthful brown hair completely off and maybe even tore some of the strands out of their roots. But as JD Clarke hung there, some sickening momentum turned his body around and Alex saw a grizzly sight that made his knees weak.

A large chunk of flesh and muscle had been removed clear off JD’s back so much so that his spine was fully exposed. The nerves and blood vessels were completely severed but cauterised as if to ensure that the poor wolf didn’t die too quickly of blood loss. The bone was charred and Alex could actually see a few bite marks along the vertebrae where the demons had actually tried to suck out the marrow.

He was starting to weep. “JD!”

Alex charged toward his son, paws quivering. He was unable to reach forward and touch the body of his beloved child.

“D… Dad…?”

He was alive. Somehow. He was alive. But where relief should have filled Alex, only despair came rushing in. His son was alive but had to suffer thought all this pain and anguish.

“I’m here, son,” he said gently. Alex reached forward, twisting his son around so that he could hold him tightly whilst avoiding the gaping would across the young Wulfun’s back. “I’m here…”

“Dad…” JD croaked. His once vibrant, youthful voice sounded like someone had thrown cement into a blender. “I… I can’t feel my legs.”

His heart broke again. “Don’t worry about it son. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” Alex held his son tightly. He silently made a promise that he would never let JD go. Never again would this happen to his son.

“No. It isn’t.”

There was a sudden level of forcefulness and strength that caught Alex completely off guard and he pulled away slowly, holding his son at arm’s length. “What?”

“What matters is…”

He met those fierce, fiery blue eyes and turned his broken heart to ice.

“… I kill them all.”

Chapter 1: Starting a Fire

“I can’t tell you when it all began. Smarter men that I have tried and have gone mad in the process. All I can say is the war in heaven started well before I was born and even before all of Tower Thirteen was created. I only experienced the tail end of the war when the fighting was most intense. Centuries of subterfuge and manoeuvring were finally coming to a head.

“On one side, the Demon King Asmodeus and his lies. And on the other… the God of Time, Haamiah.”

Dead Tails Operation (JD)

Higher Education

Jack Denver Clarke woke with a start. Fear immediately gripped him and he sat up in his cushiony bed. His bright, blue eyes instantly went to the end of his mattress where his feet rested beneath his blue blanket marked with stars and swirling childish drawings of rockets and ships. Drenched in cold sweat, he stared intently at the outline of his feet…

… until he twitched his left foot.

He sighed in relief.

Just a dream, he mentally reminded himself.

The display embedded into the wall at the far end of his room – opposite to his bed – read that it was just a few minutes after dawn. Too much energy was pounding through his veins to return to sleep and it was only a few minutes before he usually woke up anyway. He swung his feet off the bed, bare paws touching the soft carpet. As with every day, he wiggled his toes a little, burying them into the rug so that he could feel the gentle, tawny strands between each digit. A few moments passed as he savoured the sensations before he straightened and headed over to his drawer.

The young 17-year-old Wulfun waved his paw in front of a seemingly blank, white wall. A soft hiss greeted him and like the rest of his furniture, the structure emerged from the painted, white steel propelled by hydraulics and magic. His wardrobe revealed several formal shirts that were suspended on racks at the top and other more casual attire folded neatly at the base from a stair-like set of drawers. He pulled out his favourite hexweave shirt and slipped it over his athletic 6’3’’ frame.

The white shirt had a hexagonal, embossed pattern all over its chest and even over the black sleeves while short, golden bands hugged the edges. As soon as he slipped it on, the outlines of the hexagons rippled with a faint, bluish-light. The garment immediately tightened, shrinking slightly and hugging his figure to make sure everyone could see the V-shaped outline of his torso, forming a tight outline of his firm pectorals and just the teasing shadow of the hardened abdominals that lay beneath. It also ensured no one saw the scars that criss-crossed his back.

While the shirt was adjusting itself to his figure, he plucked a pair of blue, water-style underwear and slipped them on. The moment his long-bushy tail with a white tip pressed up against the fabric of the underwear, the blue cloth rippled like water and parted to make room for the appendage. That gave plenty of room for his predominantly deep-red tail to push through. Once he was comfortable and had pulled the underwear up to just beneath his washboard abdominals, the fabric wrapped around his tail and secured it in position.

As a final touch, he grabbed a pair of running shorts. Blue – to contrast against his crimson fur – with yellow stripes down the side. The material was quite breathable and fairly loose to give him plenty of movement.

He padded out of his room, still barefoot and was instantly assaulted by the thunderous snores of his father. Even though the walls of their home were specifically made to negate sound through both magic and science, Alexander Clarke still managed to shake the structure to its foundations with his snoring. JD folded his ears back in a feeble attempt to drown out the rolling thunder and grabbed the pen pinned to the side of his bedroom door. He then turned towards the wall opposite to his father’s bedroom and quickly traced the tip of the pen against the wall. Bright fluorescent – and completely removable – magical ink drew itself across the wall. It had to be bright because Alex Clarke would not function well without his morning coffee and if he found his son missing from bed he would rampage through the streets of Eternity Creek in a desperate bid to find him – likely brandishing a wire whisk and a chair like a lunatic.

‘Gone out for a run. Getting breakfast. Be back before school.’

Satisfied with the message, JD jogged cheerfully down the bedroom hallway of his home, past the lounge to his right, through the kitchen and to the front atrium which was flanked by the study. Without even opening the front door, he charged right through the ‘wooden’ frame. His trim form passed right through the portal, the wood shimmering with faint, green hexagons to silhouette his frame.

The crisp morning air of Geo-Haven greeted him. He marched off their front porch, bouncing off the wooden floorboards and purposefully avoided the red bricks to feel the grass with just the tiniest bit of dew on them against his toes and fur. He hurried past their red fence gate and cheerfully jogged down the stone path of Eternity Creek.

The glow from Chrysalis Core shone through the canopy of the massive eldertrees to cast a romantic glow upon the sleepy suburb. Individual soft bands of light trickled past the leaves like sunny pillars all along the empty roads. Though it was just a little after dawn, Eternity Creek was still frozen in a state of twilight as the eldertrees hid most of the light from Tower Thirteen’s primary source of light. Only about midday would the Creek truly experience a true sense of ‘day’.

But that suited JD just fine. It kept the streets cool, the breeze refreshing and even in the dead of summer, he wouldn’t bake under his thick coat of lupine fur.

The crimson Wulfun happily jogged down the streets, spying the myriad of differently designed and coloured houses that littered the Creek. Once upon a time, all the homes had been designed exactly the same. But after the Fall of Haven, the inhabitants had opted to be a little more unique in their homes. Most often it meant that they could customise their own security options. For JD, he was just glad not to see the same white walls, same black rooftops and same blue fences for miles on his morning jogs.

An intersection was approaching with a lamppost burning brightly just ahead. JD sped up, his feet pounding across the ground until he was at a full-blown sprint. Just before he struck the lamp, he launched himself forward, tumbling down onto his paws. As all his weight felt onto his palms he pushed off as his forward momentum took him sailing towards the lamppost.

He landed deftly atop the brightly burning lamp. A satisfied grin on his muzzle, he slowly lowered himself onto his paws against the top of the lamp, his legs spread out to either side like a gymnast putting all his weight onto his arm. With practiced movements, he twisted his body upside down until his legs were pointing straight up and he was seeing an inverted world.

Three short breaths later and he vaulted off the lamppost and landed deftly in a silent crouch.

One second later and he was bolting down the street again, launching himself atop Mr. Wickenmyer’s stone fence while weaving past the iron spokes at the top. After that was Mrs. Yrmir’s carnivorous roses and he was cartwheeling and leaping over their jagged teeth, bouncing over their well-trimmed bushes with ease.

This was why he enjoyed Eternity Creek’s sleepy mornings and why he tended to wake up early. Making his way through all of the Creek’s residents’ defences was a thrilling wakeup call that no caffeinated drink could ever match regardless of how concentrated it was. To avoid falling into a routine, he crossed the street and tried out the defences on the eastern side of Newelm Street. Sometimes he would go in the opposite direction or find a different way through town but he would always end up at the same corner coffee store – the Bright Bean.

As with every day, there was a rather homely Doevian sitting at the counter. Despite the hour, the Bright Bean would not see much business until much later in the day when the sun was bright enough to warrant people waking up. But Shauna Lilac – the sole proprietor and literal wizard in the bakery – opened shop nice and early so she could bake all her goods for the coming day. The quaint green, flowery wallpaper and abundance of wooden seats made for a cosy sort of air that was warm, welcoming and matched Shauna’s gentle, motherly features. Her cheery smile brightened his mornings and she had come to expect him at around the same time every morning to pick up the same order – five plain bagels and five of the Bean’s artisan bagels picked at random.

“Little early today, JD,” Shauna said, handing him the familiar brown bag that automatically tightened and sealed itself the moment it left her hooved fingers.

“Just woke up a few minutes earlier than usual,” he said with a shrug and a bright smile. “Don’t see why I should waste the opportunity to get a few more blocks in my route today!” He gripped the bag and peeled the opening apart to peer inside. “Oooh, is that blueberry I smell?”

“It’s blueberry cream and green pepper. Actually quite good.”

“As with every day that I pick these up from your fine selection, I put the fate of my digestive system in your capable hands.” JD bowed with a flourish towards her and she giggled, swatting his wrist over the counter.

“Flatterer.” One of her bushy, grey eyebrows lowered. “So how is your father taking your Incendian trip?” He ruffled through the bag and pulled out a pure black bagel, giving Shauna a puzzled look. “That’s sugar ash, bamboo and lychee. Answer the question.”

JD held out the bagel at arm’s length for a moment before slowly lowering it back into the bag as if it were explosive. “It’s not really a trip down to Incendius. Pinnacle Academy just opens up its Incendian branch to my class and we’re going to be spending a few periods down there learning about the Station of the Sun from the locals. Kind of like a year-long fieldtrip with frequent breaks back into Haven so that we can come back to campus and the warm and loving embraces of our parents. We can choose to stay on Incendius using the lodging options if we wanted but I would never leave my dad’s careful guidance.” JD finished with a playful, yet sarcastic, tone.

She gave him a tired look, a cynical smile on her greying muzzle. “Is that the spiel you give your father every time he hyperventilates at the prospect of you being on another Station?”

“The brown bags help,” JD said, lifting the bag with the bagels. “Anyway, we’re not leaving for that until a few weeks from now. We’ll just be getting a few Incendians coming into the teach us about the culture so we don’t end up offending anyone. My dad has plenty of time to get the crazy out of his system.”

“Good luck!”

JD laughed brightly and waved at Shauna as he bolted back out of the Bright Bean and home. Shauna watched him go and particularly payed attention to the way the Wulfun’s unusually long tail swayed.

She sighed wearily. “Why are the good ones always gay?” she lamented.

The spry Wulfun made sure to reduce his activity to just a jog as he didn’t want to damage the bagels. He knew that Mrs. Yrmir’s carnivorous roses loved bagels but they once got sick after they ate the rosewater and rose petal bagels that had been on special one day. While they were carnivorous, they weren’t cannibalistic apparently.

Thirty minutes later and he was passing through the hexwall to his home. Invaders would’ve slammed firmly into the frame and only those given authorisation were allowed to pass. The smell of bacon, eggs and garlic was in the air. His father was cooking the usual fare of bacon, egg whites and garlic spinach. That would all be sandwiched between some toasted bagels and eagerly devoured before he went to school.

Before entering the kitchen, he noted that the writing on the hallway wall had vanished meaning his dad had cleaned it up. Sometimes he forgot to cast the dismissal spell. Again, Alex was barely functional without his coffee and by the acrid smell of the foul-smelling brew in the air, JD was pretty sure his dad was now fully awake.

He poked his head into the kitchen and sure enough, there was his 7’5’’ father. Completely shirtless with his bare muscled back blocking out all remaining light streaming in from the windows. Like him, Alex had red fur but it was more of a russet colour than JD’s deeper, almost ruby-like colour. Remnants of the white fur they had borne when they were younger dotted his fur but where JD had white ‘gloves’ that started from about halfway down his forearms, Alex’s had moved down to wrap around his fingers. The white tip of his tail was almost non-existent and as the behemoth of a wolf turned around, JD caught sight of the white crest of fur on that enormous shelf of pectorals made it seem like someone had splattered a dollop of paint in the valley of his chest and it formed into a symmetrical star-shaped pattern. The underside of his muzzle was similarly white with just the faintest signs of grey.

In contrast, JD’s torso was dominated by a white crest that followed the angle of his chest and merged with the similarly coloured fur that smeared over his muzzle, ran down the length of his jaw and tumbled over his sinewy neck. While the rest of his body was covered in deep red fur, he still retained white-furred ‘socks’ and possessed an alabaster cross that sprung up between his eyebrows making him look perpetually focused or angry. His father also didn’t have a ragged gash running down from his right temple, over his right eye, across his muzzle and just missing his jugular.

“I smell blueberries!” Alex exclaimed happily, his moderately long tail wagging.

“Yep,” JD exclaimed, placing the bag in his paws on the pink marble kitchen island. “Blueberry cream with green peppers. Apparently it’s good.”

His dad shoved a huge paw into bag and pulled out the big, black bagel. Before JD could protest, Alex bit into it, taking out an entire half of the pastry. JD was left paralysed with a finger half-raised into the air as Alex chewed upon the bagel and mulled over the flavour.

“Huh…” murmured his father. “Slightly nutty. Mostly sweet. Has this refreshing kick to it like… like…”

“Bamboo?”

The big, red wolf nodded towards him with a smile. “Yeah! Bamboo!”

“That’s because you just ate the sweet ash and bamboo bagel.” JD fished out the circular bread with flecks of green and blueberries along its surface. “This is the one you were after.”

Alex shrugged and turned back towards the stove while munching on the rest of his bagel. “Still good.”

Mirroring the shrug, JD bit into the meal he was holding. Shauna was right. It was good. The green peppers added a little kick to it that cut through the sweetness of the blueberry cream. He rested his firm bottom on the wooden kitchen stools and tapped the marble. A digital display sprang up on first asking him to select the positions of the diners. He grabbed one indicator and positioned it right in front of him and then slid the other across the island opposite to him. Given a selection of plates and cutlery, he opted instead to select the pre-prepared configuration for breakfast. With a quick tap to confirm, light sprung up from the table and conjured a large, porcelain plate, a metal fork and its matching butter knife. A breadknife appeared right in the middle of the table alongside a stick of butter. A glass appeared next to him and was instantly filled with milk.

Just as he finished setting the table, his father came over with a heaping plate of bacon about as tall as his paw was wide, a similarly large stack of scrambled egg whites and a bowl of garlic spinach. With delicate care, both wolves sliced open each of nine remaining bagels and made sure to place an equal amount of eggs, bacon and spinach on each. They split the last one before devouring the meal.

Alex went about his morning ritual which involved patting the marble to his right which conjured a solid, blue-green crystal slab swarming with all the latest news. From his angle, JD could make out that the Generals – the undisputed heads of Tower Thirteen since the loss of the Propheticus Primoris – were debating the ongoing civil war on Incendius. He tried not to roll his eyes at the article. There was no doubt that his father had purposefully switched to that article fully knowing that he would spy it.

Crafty bastard, he mused. I’ve got my speech ready. Let’s do this before it spoils these damn good eggs.

“Dad –” he began.

His burly father – practically twice his size and weight – lifted a paw. “I know what you’re going to say. So hear me out first.”

Never one to disrespect his father, JD sat back quietly on the kitchen stool, large triangular ears perked and angled towards his dad.

“I know that for the past few months you and I have been going back and forth on this Incendius thing,” said the elder Clarke with a nod. “And I know that I’ve constantly told you that you can’t go because of the current state of the Station.”

JD nodded slowly. He could sense a ‘but’ somewhere in there but didn’t dare to get his hopes up too much.

“But I have been assured by your teachers that they will take every precaution to ensure that you are as far away from the civil war as much as possible and they will keep you and the other students from wandering too far away from Corona.”

He suppressed a wince. That his dad would emphasise that the teachers were going to quarantine him to a single city meant he was in no way allowed to disobey his educators on that topic lest he do the most unspeakable thing in the world – disappoint his dad.

“So you’re totally fine with me taking the rest of the year to study in what is effectively a warzone?” JD ventured slowly.

“Absolutely!” answered Alex with a bright smile. “I think it will be an excellent learning experience. There are no better Pyromancers than those on Incendius and the Station of the Sun has a rich heritage and filled with culture.” He brought his mug of coffee to his lips and mumbled into the murky brew before taking a long sip.

JD cocked his head to the side. “What was that?”

Alex lifted a grey eyebrow at him. “I said that Incendius has a rich heritage and is filled with culture. The contrasts between light and dark are really astounding particularly how the Incendian mainland has the Sun Spire while the Sunless Lands are perpetually pitch black.”

Having an overprotective father had its disadvantages but also allowed JD to become very accustomed to Alex’s mannerisms. Particularly the hints of when he was lying. They were subtle. For one thing, Alex would start tapping any surface with a finger at a steady rhythm – which he was currently doing with his coffee mug marked with the words ‘Dad Prime’. His ears would also flick back and forth continuously. JD theorised this was a lupine reflex reaction akin to looking for surrounding danger. Lastly, Alex would press his legs together both as an attempt to keep his tail from sliding between his massive thighs and to protect his valuable family jewels. Though JD couldn’t directly tell if his father had spontaneously become a woman, one glance at the metallic surfaces around the kitchen and their reflections revealed that his dad was squeezing his thighs together so hard that they could’ve turned coal into diamonds.

“Dad,” he grunted plainly. “What did you really say?”

Alex’s façade broke down and he immediately leapt to his feet. “Oh look at the time! Better get ready for school, son!”

Before JD could protest, his father produced his backpack, a change of clothes and had even retrieved his toothbrush and toothpaste. Being two hundred pounds lighter than his sire had its disadvantages as JD was unceremoniously plucked from his seat and shoved towards the kitchen sink.

“Come on, no time to dally! Brush your teeth over the sink to save time!”

Opening his muzzle to protest was an even graver mistake as Alex shoved the toothbrush past his lips and began scrubbing his teeth to get some soapy suds going to keep him silent. JD barely managed to spit out the minty slurry before his father was tugging on his shorts and shoving a whole new attire into his arms including a pair of brand new shoes that had been purchased several months ago and that JD never wore. The younger Wulfun preferred to go around barefoot and hated calling attention to the fact that his foot-size was disproportionately larger than the rest of his body.

He's up to something.

But knowing his father, there was no way he would be able to get a word in or any time to deduce whatever it was Alex was hiding from him. In the time it would take him to wrest the secret out of his father’s lips, he would not have time to change the abomination of an attire that he was handed and actually get ready for school. Resigning himself to ignorance – for now – JD slung the clothes under his arm, turned his back to his visibly relieved father and brushed the rest of his teeth diligently.

Alex retreated into the rear of the house while JD finished flushing the remnants of the bagels from his teeth. Back in his bedroom, JD tossed the ridiculously short-shorts that he had never worn once and he was sure his conniving dad had gotten just for this occasion back into his closet. He removed his hexweave shirt and replaced it with a loose fitting, cornflower blue, uncollared shirt. His closet was filled with similar shirts predominantly because he always insisted on buying in bulk and the colour brought out his eyes. The number ‘47’ was drawn in black against the right breast pocket of his shirt. In contrast, he slipped on a pair of hexweave black pants that immediately tightened to wrap around his tail and accentuate his strong legs. Two yellow stripes no bigger than a pen ran down the sides of the pants. Over his shirt he threw on a slimming, white nanofiber jacket with silver linings and the short sleeves a stark black. Like his shirt, the number 47 was emblazoned on the right sleeve like badge.

The moment he completed his attire, a faint sizzling filled the air. Tiny fires erupted from different points along his clothes. The flames rushed to form the outline of a six-winged bird spread-eagled across the back of his jacket with some of the wings spreading over his shoulders and around his flanks. Once complete, the black outline was filled completely in as if someone had branded the back of his jacket. The same flames drew a white emblem on his left jacket sleeve and dominated his right pants leg. The enchanted flames ebbed once they were done leaving him with a stylised ensemble.

He patted the wall right beside his wardrobe as it retreated back into the wall. The second segment of the white frame pulled out to reveal a glimmering mirror.

“Please select style or customise your own appearance with –”

The automated message that matched his voice was ignored and he just pressed a small indentation in the wall to begin the pre-set procedures. A silvery, dusty cloud flooded out of the mirror and immediately encased him. Trying hard not to breathe and suppress his sneeze reflex, he allowed the cloud of nanobots to sweep beneath his clothes and all over his body. The bots chipped away at his fur, keeping it at a uniform length all over his body and snipped away at his hair to make sure his brown locks were kept at a youthful spike with a slight sweep to the right. Any dead skin or odours were obliterated and they repaired any damage to his garment that may have been sustained since the last time he wore them. Some even flew into his nostrils and disintegrated any snot or debris that may have been caught there.

“You seem to have suffered a minor cut to your left forearm,” the mirror informed him. “Please hold still while repair procedures are undertaken.”

Surprised by the note, he lifted his left arm and lifted an eyebrow at the sight of the faint red cut barely visible through his fur. The nanobots swarmed towards the wound and immediately went to work mending the flesh. A faint itching sensation came as tiny lasers filled with magical energies worked their healing routines across the damaged skin and disinfected the wound.

“Task complete. Returning to standby mode.”

JD didn’t even bother looking himself over. He knew the mirror had done its job as it had done many times over. He stepped back out of his room and padded back towards the kitchen where his dad was just finishing up with the dishes - which really involved him waving his paws around and casting a few spells to wipe the oil and remnants of their meal off the plates.

“Ready, Dad,” he announced.

Alex turned and immediately froze. No matter how many times he saw the emblems on his son’s attire, the effect was always the same. Alexander Clarke let out a soft squeak and destroyed whatever was in his paws at the time. In this case, it was a porcelain dish. He snapped it in half as easily as one would break a cookie.

So he’s really not ready for this. No matter how much he tells himself otherwise.

“Good,” Alex grunted. “Have a good day at school.”

“Thanks, Dad. You want help with that?” He pointed at the broken dish. “I’ve got some glue somewhere and…”

“I got it. Restituo.”

With those magic words, a soft green light emanated from the two halves of the broken plate. Alex pressed them back together. A sound like crunching gravel emanated from the dish before the light faded to reveal that it was whole once more.

JD tired not to stare at the dish for too long and glanced away. “Alright then. See you later, Dad. Have a good date at work.”

He turned towards the door.

“I love you, JD,” Alex called after him.

The young Wulfun plucked his brown, leather backpack from closet next to the door. “Love you too, Dad.”

Calibre Grade (Wood)

Privilege

The beach was positively radiant. Golden sands, sapphire seas and clear skies all around. Wood Bladebreaker lounged on the soft cushiony hammock that had been enchanted to remain cool despite the pleasant heat. Shaded beneath a trio of rustling palms with a cocktail of the finest alcohols shaken inside a coconut shell, the green-scaled Draconis sighed softly in contentment as he just swayed in his hammock to the sounds of the waves gently lapping on the shores.

Everything was perfect. Just at it should be.

With one, big, muscled arm draped behind his head, Wood absently scratched the golden blonde mane of hair that occupied the gap between his two nutty brown horns. His broad, reptilian features were accentuated by a strong, square jaw and a contrasting coating of softer, yellow scales that ran from the underside of his chiselled jawline, down his neck and over his chest. The same colouration cut through his emerald scales and led all the way down to the tip of his muscular tail which absently drew circles in the ground.

His enormous, muscled frame was well over 450 pounds which was understandable given his 7’9’’ height. Even though his bones were hollow to provide a means for him to utilise his broad, webbed wings for flight, he had added to his overall weight with a rigorous, disciplined workout regimen, healthy nutrition and an overabundance of free time which he spent exercising. His work paid off for at a mere 19 years of age – practically a baby for a Draconis – he already sported 30-inch arms, a 70-inch chest and thighs that were pushing 36 inches. He was an excellent specimen of a Draconis and he hadn’t even reached his ‘prime’.

Wearing little more than a pair of red swimming trunks with a floral pattern printed on its frame, Wood took a lazy sip from his cocktail, savouring the fruity taste with a slight alcoholic tang. His pointed ears picked up the sound of movement and he inclined his head to the left. A rather slim and elegant human woman approached him. Long, brown hair glistened in the sun and that red two-piece bathing suit that barely contained her ample cleavage matched his own garment.

“Hello Jennifer,” he said, lifting his coconut shell in her direction. “I’m almost out. Be a good girl and fetch me another.”

“Of course, master,” cooed the woman in her sultry voice. “But I have a message for you.”

“Oh?” he asked, lifting one, blonde eyebrow with a hungry smile crossing his reptilian muzzle. “And what might that be?”

“It’s time to wake up.”

Wood was momentarily stunned by her words then everything went abruptly black. He opened his eyes just as the curtains to his lavished bedroom peeled open to reveal the vast Havenese skyscape. A groan left his parched throat when the brilliant light from Chrysalis Core streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling window perched beside his impressive four-poster bed.

While he was far from any tropical beach, he was still in some degree of luxury in the Bladebreaker mansion. Brilliant green, velvety sheets draped him, gilded with gold and with the stunning emblem of his family’s crest drawn on its surface. Polished, marble floors draped in rich carpets from all over Tower Thirteen welcomed the morning’s sun. As the dream spell faded from memory, Wood rolled his broad shoulders and spread his wings. He let out a loud roar as he stretched his arms. His long, flat tongue lapped at his fangs, tasting the venom that dripped from them.

As a Green Draconis, he was naturally armed with a powerful neurotoxin and had the capability to breathe a highly corrosive cloud of acid at will. The only problem was that consistently left him with a dry throat every morning. He recalled when he was younger and didn’t have control over his acidic breath that he would melt away his pillows and bed during the night as he drooled. Over the years, he had grown to control that inherent skill.

He flung his big, broad, clawed feet out from under the sheets and tapped his marble and mahogany bedside table. Magic and science went to work immediately. A ring of blue light sprung up from the surface of the table and immediately began to shoot jets of water straight into its centre. This water formed a tight sphere which he grabbed from the air and pulled towards his lips. The liquid was a little sweet but cool and refreshing, just how he liked it.

The curtains pulled further open revealing the entire eastern face of his room to be made entirely of glass and with a few doors leading straight out into a lavished balcony. The Bladebreaker manor grounds were revealed beyond. Lush, green gardens, intricate statues of gold, silver and crystal as well as gilded walkways that were too pretty to actually use. The grounds – over six miles wide – ended abruptly into sheer cliffs where the closest piece of solid ground was Geo-Haven thousands of miles down. The Baldebreakers were fortunate enough to own one of Haven’s flying motes for their own use and it hovered quietly in the sky with few neighbours about.

Wood’s cornflower blue eyes drifted to the rest of his room. Trophies from his various academic and physical achievements adorned the walls. There were three full-sized paintings perched on the walls opposite to his bed. Each one would sit at an image of a past accomplishment for a moment before the delicate pigmented oil would shift and change to display another image. Wood lost himself for a moment at the memory of his trip to Xaos last year before quickly remembering how fantastic his dream had been.

Still naked, he scrambled to the closest painting and pressed two fingers against his forehead.

“Memoria Pingere,” he recited. Still holding the orb of water in one hand, a faint ripple of blue light emerged from where his fingers touched with the hard, emerald scales on his head just beneath his hairline. The nearest painting immediately shimmered, all its colours and composition changing. Verdant palm trees shaded the bottom half of the painting while the glimmering beach and sea was revealed on the upper half, mirroring the clear, blue skies. Wood was splayed on his hammock, tail hanging over the edge and one muscled leg absently pressed against the nearest palm trunk. That scandalously dressed woman stood beside him with a drink in hand. Her features were hidden by her hair but it was clear from Painting-Wood’s expression, that her face really didn’t matter.

There was a knock on the broad, wooden doors that were three times his height and size. Trevor, his personal butler, pushed open the door. Despite his wizened years, the human could still heft the immense weight of the door with ease.

“Good morning, young sir,” greeted the grey-haired man with all the elegance of a noble. “I trust you slept well?”

“Spectacularly, Trevor,” answered Wood with a smile. “Your skills to fabricate pleasant dreams is appreciated as always.”

Fully ignoring the fact that Wood was entirely naked, Trevor stepped into the chambers bearing a full set of clothing for him. “I have already drawn you a bath, young sir. Breakfast shall be ready in thirty minutes. Your mother will be down shortly. Will you prefer to drive yourself to campus today or shall I call your driver?”

“That won’t be necessary.” He headed over to the selection of clothing that Trevor had picked out for him. As always, his butler knew exactly what he wanted to wear. “I’m catching ride with Buster today.”

Though he tried to hide it, Trevor’s nose wrinkled ever so much to show his disdain for Wood’s best friend.

“He’s picking up Skye and I before we head to school,” added Wood, pretending not to notice the slight. “A guy from Incendius will be coming in to give a lecture today to teach us about Incendian and Havenese interactions. Skye didn’t want to be late so asked Buster to pick him up as they live closer to each other.”

Skye King was the one of Wood’s friends that Trevor did not disprove of and it showed as the elderly butler’s features softened with relief.

“I see,” said his ever-polite servant. “I shall send Master Buster on when he arrives them with Master King.”

It showed just how much Trevor respected Skye since he used the Tigris’ last name out of respect.

“Thanks Trevor,” Wood said. “I’ll take that bath now.”

Trevor nodded and with a curt, ‘Right this way, young sir,’ led Wood towards the adjoining room which was an expansive bathroom. A floor-level tub that could easily be mistaken for a pool lay before him already seething with heat and coated in floral, blue bubbles. Wood didn’t even test the water. He knew Trevor had set it up just to the right heat that he wanted.

He sighed in relief as his body was once again enveloped in warmth. A faint prickling sensation ran up his arms as he sensed magic in the air. The bubbles around him sprang to life, combining, shifting and taking the shape of young, busty women made entirely out of soap bubbles. They giggled at him and wrapped themselves around him, rubbing their sudsy bodies against him while running their delicate fingers all over his hard scales and similarly hard muscles. One might easily mistake it as a strangely seductive rub-down but really it was just an entertaining way of being bathed. The soapy constructs were delicately scrubbing his body up and down. Their fawning over his wings was really their way of cleaning the leathery membranes. Their fingers stroking his short-cropped, almost militaristic, mane meant that they were massaging shampoo deep into his roots. Naturally they fondled his genitals, fingers gently slipping under the leathery pouch of his ball sac and sliding into his genital slit to make sure every part of him was cleaned. Years of experiencing such treatment had dulled him to the siren’s advances, however, and Wood merely reached past one of the bubbly women and waved his clawed hands over a scanner. On the far end of the large pool, the marble shifted and twisted like liquid, rising upwards to form a monolith. A screen flashed amongst the spire and the morning news flashed.

The sexy Vulpinus newscaster spoke in her musical tone. “Overnight the Tully Valley Rangers defeated the Requiem Heights Maniacs in what many are calling an expected outcome for the reigning champions. The Manallium match was effectively over within thirty minutes when Rangers front man, Ulrich Maethor completed the Quest and put the Rangers at a stunning 150-point lead. The Maniacs were hard-pressed to play catch up and even after the second Quest became available after twenty minutes, the Rangers played an excellent defence led by the defensive captain, Davios Ross, and kept the Maniacs from scoring anything significant.”

“Yes!” Wood hollered, pumping a fist through the air. “Rangers for the win!”

Images on his screen showed the strong, muscled men of all species racing through the intricate horizontal and vertical maze of the Olliand City Manallium Stadium. The blue and white-clad Rangers clashed with their opponents, the black and yellow Maniacs. Balls of fire, spheres of ice and orbs of electricity were hurled from one side to the other but it was the nimble, blonde-haired Ulrich Maethor that was the star of the reel. He was shown leaping over a stream of scintillating lightning and slamming the Sceptre into his team’s Trove, putting the Rangers up by 150 points.

Wood caught himself before getting too excited, however. He could feel his blood pumping everywhere. The gentle caress of the siren on his rising shaft would only keep him in the bath longer and he didn’t want to keep his friends waiting. He waved his hand through the air, dismissing the soapy constructs. Their forms melted back into the sudsy brew. No longer being fondled, he dunked his head beneath the waters, running his hands through his mane before emerging once more and shaking his head to get rid of any excess water.

Still with the news on, he emerged from the pool, flicking his long, muscular tail back and forth and giving his big wings a little shake before he let the machines do their work. For a Draconis like him, a bath would not be enough. He lifted his arms and spread his legs a little. Mechanical arms sprang up from the rim of the tub carrying clippers, brushes, towels and even tweezers. The clippers made sure that his mane was a uniform length. The towels dried him before the brushes scrubbed his muscled frame with a scale lotion to keep his natural armour looking fresh and shiny as if he had just shed his skin. The tweezers plucked any stray hairs to make him look like he had bene permanently airbrushed with every part of his body perfectly sculpted.

He then began to walk back out of the bathroom. The clothing that Trevor had lain out then sprang up from his bed and began flying right for him. Each step saw a different piece of clothing wrapped around his body. The first foot had the arms slide a pair of loose fitting boxers slide over his massive thighs with a hole for his thick tail. Despite being reptilian in appearance, he was actual warm-blooded and it was summer in Haven so he forewent a singlet. Instead, two cloth circlets were wrapped around his biceps. From the circlet, red neuroweave cloth sprang up and curved around his tight form and V-shaped torso. A brown belt was wrapped around his waist and rough, denim-like fabric sprang from it, unfolding over his legs and giving him that rough look that hid his privileged upbringing. A pair of black, fingerless gloves were slipped over his large hands while some steel-capped shoes that cushioned his claws were slipped over his feet. To finish his illusion of a working man, a black utility vest was swung over his chest, leaving the sleeves of his shirt exposed. The four matter converters attached to the back were activated, emitting a soft blue light around their outline.

Wood Bladebreaker, heir to the Bladebreaker fortune ever since his father was killed during the Fall of Haven, stepped out into the hallways of his expansive, extravagant and – in his opinion – extraneous mansion. A whole ten minutes was required to move away from his room all the way to the atrium where he passed through the army of automatons that greeted him a good morning before he passed through the front doors and entered the car waiting for him. Trevor was at the wheel and his manservant drove him for another fifteen minutes through the grounds, past the vast forest of their private mote where his father used to hold hunting sessions, past the gallery where his mother hosted dinner parties and finally up to the main house which was twice as big as his mansion and the gallery combined.

It was there that he took another fifteen minutes to get from the car and into the dining room where he sat opposite to his mother on one end of the needlessly long table decorated with finery and silvery platters. For something a simple was waffles with ricotta and berries, the extravagance made Wood sick.

“Rich world problems?”

His mother, Gloria Connors Bladebreaker, regarded at him with one, meticulously lifted eyebrow. He took after her more than his father who had been human. Draconis genes were dominant over human, after all. If he were ever to find a human girl, there would be a good chance that their kid might turn out human. That is, unless he ended up with another half-human Draconis or a pure bred. But for all intents and purposes, he had his mother’s reptilian physique, but gained his father’s cornflower blue eyes. Gloria was his mirror image with her green and yellow scales along with her finely manicured brown horns. Female Draconi however didn’t have very big breasts but Gloria’s were naturally busty and her slim waist often turned heads. Her wings were smaller than his so as not to be so intimidating and her long, blonde hair was long and luscious. Although there was some difference between them other than their size. She had green scales but hers were a deep green, almost black and the softer scales that decorated her belly were almost white.

“Mother…” he began.

“Now don’t ‘mother’ me,” she said harshly. “Most people would consider themselves lucky to live in such luxury. Your father –”

“Is the one that spent all your money on this shit,” Wood grumbled.

Gloria was the CEO of Connors Manufacturing, the single most expansive weapons manufacturer in all of Tower Thirteen. Her company built everything from the smallest handgun to the biggest cannons on the military warships. It was her innovative designs, ruthless business acumen and shrewd negotiating skills that had gotten her so far. She built her company first and married Martin Bladebreaker second and bore his son. Despite all the stereotypes of a successful parent who often neglected their children in favour of success and only had their children for status, Gloria loved both Martin and Wood dearly to the point where she would spend as much time as she could with them and appointed people to run her business instead of look after her household. The extensive Blanebreaker grounds were often dangerously understaffed and it wasn’t rare to see Gloria out there tending the garden alongside her gardeners.

“Language,” Gloria chastised. “And you know your father just wanted us as comfortable as possible. He wanted us to enjoy life and the fortune we have instead of just keeping it in a bank.” Her dark brown eye grew nostalgic as her mind seemed to drift towards the memories of the often too enthusiastic Martin.

Wood felt a pang in his heart again for his father. He missed his dad but also blamed the idiot for charging into battle against the demons five years ago without any training, experience or even a goddamn weapon.

“I’m going to be picked up by Buster today,” he said, abruptly changing the subject. “Probably dropped off too. No need to send the car.”

“Oh good. Carpooling is better for the environmental stabilisers anyway.” His mom, ever frugal. “You know I’m throwing a gala this weekend, right?”

As had been his habit every time she mentioned that damned gala, he scowled and hissed. Dressing up for all the Strato-Haven socialites, being polite and hiding his muscles because the ‘ideal man’ was slim, athletic and perpetually had their nose upturned at everyone around them was what he had to endure with these galas. A mask had to be put on and it was one he utterly despised.

“What’s the reason for this again?” he grumbled, unceremoniously seizing one of the waffles and eating it with his bare hands. He got powdered sugar all over his gloves but he merely dusted them off, sprinkling it all over his lap.

“It’s to benefit the Reaching Flame charity that has been raising money for the Incendians given the current issues on that Station.” Gloria gave him a gentle smile. “Isn’t Pinnacle going to be starting your secondment into that Station soon?”

So that was her plan.

After nineteen years of being Gloria’s son, Wood had gotten quite used to her verbal manoeuvres and diplomatic skills.

“Yeah. We’re getting people from the Station in from today to give us speeches on customs and shit. Then we head into the Incendian branch of Pinnacle in a couple of weeks.” He resisted the urge to ask why she was interested.

She’s interested because she knows I’ll be a target for Incendian nobles who want more weapons from her.

It was a typical ploy. Someone would try to brownnose their way to Gloria but she was too smart for them so they’d try to get to her through her son. More than a few Havenese businessmen had tried to hook him up with their daughters. He’d had some fun but he never clicked with any of them. They were all the same pompous princesses that made him sick. All of them wore a lot of lipstick as well as apparently someone had spread the rumours he liked girls with full, luscious lips. He ended up tasting their lipstick most of the time and he always felt like throwing up afterwards.

“Be sure to take in as much as you can. Incendius is really a wonderful place.”

“You mean when it’s not mired in civil war?” Wood grunted. “I don’t see why the that General Moonclaw is so up in arms about the whole thing. The balance of power has been kept as it was for thousands of years! Why disrupt it now? Same with the Vampiri. They should fall back in line with the Church.”

Gloria waved him down. “No politics at the table, Wood dear. Finish your breakfast. Your friends will be along soon enough.”

Wood grumbled but he did as he was told and consumed the rest of his meal. The servants cleaned up their dishes and offered them some anti-bacterial mints. Wood just popped one into his muzzle and let the magic and science clean his teeth and tongue would leaving a minty smell that would last for a good five to six hours.

Trevor appeared a moment later to inform him that Buster and ‘Master King’ were waiting out the front. The elderly butler clearly had no respect for Buster. He bid his mother a good day, kissed her cheek and then rushed out the door, grabbing his back pack from Trevor’s waiting arm.

Out in front in his big, blue Sky Rover was Buster Wilde. The Sky Rover was an aerial vehicle one could closely associate with a truck. It was big, bulky and rather squat. The main cabin was built only for two people with its bulbous nose made to house its powerful engine that allowed it to cut through the airways at speed. Behind the cabin was a big tray that Wood eagerly jumped into and strapped himself in.

“Hey man!” Buster exclaimed, the huge, black-furred Bovios lifting a meaty arm out the window. Wood met the high-five with his own hand eagerly. Buster then waved at Trevor. “Hey Trevor!”

Trevor did not react.

“Thanks for picking me up,” Wood said. He nodded towards the other passenger in the cabin, a slim Tigris by the name of Skye King. “Mornin’ Skye.”

With his nose always buried in a book, Skye lifted his bright green eyes towards Wood, accentuated slightly by his square glasses and gave the Draconis a smile. “Good morning, Wood. Did you hear the news today?”

He grinned broadly. “Yeah! Rangers won!”

“Rangers Roar!” they cried in unison before bumping fists through the open rear window.

At first glance, Skye may have appeared like a stereotypical nerd but in reality, he was a fit, athletic young feline and was at the top of his class when it came to magical studies. He and Wood had become fast friends in their first year at Pinnacle when they bonded over their favourite Manallium team.

“Boys,” Buster said with a roll of his eyes. “I swear, you both get a hard-on every time you talk about your dumb game.”

“And you’d just love to be on the receiving end of both,” mocked Wood.

Buster was, in many ways like Wood but in other ways, very different. The big bull was more rounded and had more ‘dirty weight’ compared to Wood’s lean and shredded physique. The build came from helping his blue-collar father at the construction yard every day and eating all the junk food he could ever want which he flaunted in Wood’s face every day. His arms were bigger than Wood’s but that was because there was an extra layer of fat added over them.

Buster was also openly homosexual.

“I know you straight boys would never let me anywhere near your dicks,” chortled the bull. “Unless I got you really drunk like that one time…”

Wood silenced him with a glare. “You said you’d never speak of that again.”

The Bovious just threw his head back and laughed, his white horns scratching the roof of his cabin as it always did. Then he started the engine of his Rover. The vehicle, already hovering a foot off the ground, lifted further into the air before spreading its broad, crystal wings. Its engine roared before zooming off away from the Bladebreaker estate. Wood folded his wings around himself to not only keep himself warm but also to keep them from catching the roaring winds as they flew away from the island kept afloat through magic and science. He caught sight of the many other similar motes that made up Strato-Haven and the thick, imposing forests far beneath that was Geo-Haven.

He had a perfect view of the majesty which was the 13th Station of Tower Thirteen, Haven, the Station of the Goddess. One would not be able to tell that just mere five years ago, the entire Station had been caught in a crippling war that had seen demons invading every part of it and killing thousands. Perhaps the one scar that Haven bore from the encounter was the shattered Chrysalis.

Tower Thirteen was a shattered world, after all. The thirteen fragments that had once made the world whole were kept together by the massive blue-green structure known as Chrysalis. These enormous, towering spires of crystal jutted from most of the Stations, keeping the fragments of land together in a sort of orbit. The towers all joined together at the centre of their world, Chrysalis Core which was also the source of light for Haven, like a perpetual sun made of crystal. At night, the Core would dim and darken to allow the people to sleep and at dawn, it would waken and bathe the land with light once more.

But during the Fall of Haven, the Chrysalis fragment that had once held Haven had been shattered. Now, Wood stared sorrowfully at the fragmented slabs of crystal that hovered in the air, drawing his eye to the broken stem that had once led to Chrysalis. While Haven maintained its orbit, many people thought that they had lost something fundamental about their Station in the destruction of the enormous crystal tower.

Wood shook his head free of the miserable thoughts as Buster entered morning traffic. Other aerial vehicles zoomed around them with a roar. They left the quiet of the Strato-Haven suburbs and entered the urban areas. Here, the motes were more closely tied together and tunnels of water suspended by magical, metal rings connected the individual cities and islands together for passengers to traverse. The air was abuzz with other vehicles like swarms of bees all moving to their hives.

Buster was a bit of a reckless driver, however, and Wood had to hold on for dear life as the daring Bovios swerved, ducked and weaved between much smaller vehicles to get to school. Thankfully Buster had installed some grips for him to hold onto after Wood’s claws had pierced the hull during one of the Bovios’s more daring moves. The barrel rolls were nauseating at first but Wood had gotten used to them. When he finally arrived at Haven’s premier academy, Wood had to reach into his backpack and take out his comb to realign his mane.

He stepped off the cab with Buster and Skye right behind him.

Pinnacle was truly a sight to behold. It’s five, enormous golden towers encircled by magically stabilising rings that also acted as broad announcement ribbons dominated the facility. A school that took up an entire, small-sized mote, the academy was built to accommodate students from as early as freshman high school to well into college-level. A student could conceivable stay at Pinnacle for a total of fourteen years for the academy offered the most extensive training there was possible that was intertwined with their normal studies – the training needed to become a Paladin of the Church.

For a long time, Wood had felt that his calling was to join the Church. Now in his second year at Pinnacle, there was still another thirteen years to go before he was all but guaranteed a spot amongst the Church’s elite as a Paladin. Buster only mildly shared his fascination with being a Paladin and may go as far as a sixth year but Skye would only stay for his final year at high school level before returning to his native Miasma to study there.

But not everyone who attended Pinnacle could be considered one of the ‘elite’.

The school bus arrived. Its broad, vaguely-whale-shaped structure settled in the parking lot with its ‘fins’ folding outwards to act as stairways for the students to step off. One of the first was Jack Denver Clarke. Seeing the short Wulfun made Wood’s blood boil. Clarke was one-year level below him but rumour had quickly spread about Clarke’s inability to use any form of magic. No explanation was given. He just couldn’t use magic. Wood was of the opinion that anyone could use magic. The fact that Clarke refused to even try, put him right up there with the arrogant assholes that he’d have to endure come the weekend at his mother’s gala.

That made Clarke one of his favourite targets.

“Hey Buster,” he snickered, gently elbowing his friend’s ribs. “Watch this.”

“Wood…” Skye cautioned but was ignored.

Wood whispered a word and a ball of flame erupted between his fingers. He clutched it tightly like he would a softball.

“Hey Clarke!” he bellowed. “Heads up!”

He flung his arm back and hurled it straight Clarke. The ball made a beeline towards the Wulfun. There was an instinct when Clarke looked directly at the flames before –

BAM!

Buster hissed and winced. “Oooh… right in the sniffer!”

Clarke went down, not even letting out a cry as he clutched his face. People around him just laughed. Other students pointed and some even kicked some dirt into the impotent asshole’s wounds. Wood grinned savagely and lifted his hand back, summoning another fireball.

Then a firm grip seized his wrist.

He found himself looking directly into a pair of fierce, purple eyes.

“That’s quite enough, Bladebreaker,” Rayne Noam scowled. The human was a whole foot shorter than him but as a teacher, Rayne had authority. Plus, the Practical Combat Professor could kick Wood’s ass with ease – as he proved every day.

“I was just playing a prank,” Wood offered meagrely.

“Right. A prank against the one guy in the school that couldn’t defend himself against a magical fireball.” Noam released Wood’s hand and coolly blew out the flames. “Detention. After school. You know where.”

The Draconis groaned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

Noam ordered the other students to scatter while he attended to Clarke.

Wood just shook his head and turned his back.

“Fucking cripple.”

Metus Daemonium (Rayne)

A Cup of Coffee

The burns weren’t severe. Superficial at worst. At least there wasn’t really and substance to the flames or secondary effects. JD just suffered some burnt fur and slightly crispy skin. The school nurse, a Fennecian with rather small breasts, applied some salve and uttered a few spells to immediately heal the wounds.

“You know I’d like to say this is not at all common in my school,” said the female, “but I’m a school nurse in an academy built specifically to hone the skills of its students in all aspects. When you’re in a school where magical fireballs are being thrown around like paper airplanes, the medical ward probably sees the students more than the teachers. However…” She came to step right in front of Rayne, scowling at him. “I am not accustomed to having a patient before I’ve had my first cup of coffee.”

“Sorry Talia,” Rayne offered lamely. “Bullying started early today.”

Talia Harris turned sorrowfully towards JD who was checking his own features for any further scars or burns apart from the one he already bore.

“I see him at least three times a week,” she said in hushed tones. “Have you tried talking to him? Maybe Pinnacle isn’t the best place for him.”

Rayne stared at her fiercely. “JD is far more capable that you know.”

“I know, I know,” she answered, lifting her paws in surrender. “He’s withstood six months of this kind of treatment. He managed to pass all the exams, apart from the magical ones, and met the criteria to come into this school. He has every right to be here. Technically” She looked up at him, almost pleading to him. “But just because he has a right, doesn’t mean that he should exercise that right. I’m worried about what this could do to his psyche.”

Trust me girl, nothing in this world could damage his psyche more than it already has.

“He’ll be fine.” He patted Talia’s shoulder comfortingly. “Is he clear to go?”

“Yes. Just… take care of him, okay Rayne?”

“I will. Thanks Talia. Next time, I’ll bring you coffee.”

He stepped past the nurse and entered the little booth where JD was examining his features, tilting his head left and right and paying particular attention to the ragged scar that ran down his face.

“You heard that,” Rayne stated. It was not a question. He almost froze when he locked gazes with JD through the mirror. The fiery intensity in those blue eyes was downright… demonic.

“I appreciate nurse Harris’ concern but a fireball to my face is hardly a need for such fuss.”

Rayne sighed softly and crossed his arms. “Have you ever considered fighting back, JD? I mean, all these bullying attempts will just keep escalating and one of these days, someone is going to take it too far and…”

The young Wulfun lifted his gaze, staring at Rayne through the reflection in the mirror. His expression was sympathetic but ultimately fake. It was just a mask that the poor, damaged child put on to appease the ‘grown ups’ around him.

“If that ever happens, I’m sure you and my dad will be there to keep someone from getting seriously hurt.”

Rayne wanted to ask what would happen if they weren’t around. Who would protect him then but he knew that question was pointless.

“You’ll be glad to know that Harris didn’t ask about your scars again,” Rayne offered.

Let out a single, soft chuckle and leapt off the examination table. As he did so, his red shirt flicked up ever so slightly to just offer a glimpse at the ragged, pink flesh that tore through his back like a bizarre post-modern painting. The view was brief however as JD reached for his coat which hung on a hook and slipped it on quickly.

“I’m sure she got tired of your evasiveness and excuses. Didn’t you try and bribe her last time with a month’s worth of coffee for not asking?”

That had afforded him some time to avoid the nurse’s invasive questions. Though she really wasn’t entitled to such information, Talia was naturally inquisitive and as a nurse had some valid reason to ask about the disfigurements across JD’s body. Rayne had initially evaded them by bluntly telling her that all she needed to know were JD’s allergies and if he was taking any medication. Of course he couldn’t help but be charmed by the Fennecian. There was something about her big, expressive ears that were mesmerizingly cute.

“That expires in about two weeks,” he answered. “But after that, I’m going to have to come up with something else. It would really help me if you somehow avoided getting fireballs flung at your face.”

“What about buried by a surprise rockslide?” JD offered.

“That’s even worse.”

“Legs frozen in a block of ice?”

“Not as bad but I’d still have you check you in for frostbite.”

“What about getting a shock strong enough to fluff out my fur, but not paralyse me.”

“If I buy you a comb and you avoid Nurse Harris in the hallways, you’ll be fine.”

JD turned towards him with that deceptively genuine smile of his. “Don’t worry. I turn 18 in a couple of weeks. I’ve already passed the written exam for the driver’s test. I just need to pass the practical exam and then I’ve convinced my dad to let me drive to school.”

Alex must’ve been either really drunk when he made that promise or was convinced JD would never commit.

Sadly, Jack Denver Clarke was unrelenting when he committed to something. If he made a promise, he would do anything to see it through. Anything.

“You’re going to give your father even more grey hairs if he has to stress about other students running you out of the skies.” The dark-haired human shrugged his broad shoulders and wrapped one of his arms around JD’s shoulders. “Come on, kiddo. I’ll walk you to class.”

With Rayne by his side, no other students accosted the red Wulfun on their way through the vast hallways and towers of Pinnacle. Since he was still in the high school level, he had classes in the Ascension Tower. The Crossroads Tower was reserved for students attending their first few years of college where they were deciding whether to pursue Paladin studies or not. Naturally, the Holy Tower was just for Paladins while the Advance Tower was for post-graduate studies. The last tower, the central one, was the Vital Tower and was were the staff were housed and where assemblies were held.

Rayne noted with some bitterness that he passed Wood Bladebreaker and his posse in the hallways. Given that Wood was still a junior, he studied in the Ascension Tower as well. Their gazes met briefly but he quickly averted it to one of the bright, holographic banners wishing Class 989 good luck on their secondment to Incendius.

He saw JD off to his Physics class before heading off to teach his own Combat Classes.

Ever since the Fall of Haven, Combat Class was mandatory in all Havenese schools from as early as middle school. Never again did Haven want to be caught in such a situation where the majority of its population – elitists as they were – were caught unaware and completely defenceless. This paranoia had evolved to the point where every workplace had mandatory one hour classes every day to practice forms of combat, magical spells or even simple gym time. It made the Havenese people one of the fittest people in all of Tower Thirteen but also one of the most well-armed. The average person could snap their fingers and engulf a home in a pillar of fire should they want.

In Rayne’s opinion – a veteran of the war – Haven was just a gas tank just waiting for a stray match to ignite it. Thankfully, an extravagant lifestyle and what could be considered an opulent living standard kept most people with little to want. Conflicts were usually very easy to resolve and saw few fatalities. Those that did die could be resurrected – provided they had insurance - and everyone had insurance.

Rayne spent most of the first half of the day barking orders at young men and women who were much younger than him in the arts of combat. With his trusty whistle around his neck, nestled in his chiselled pectorals, he shaped the young minds into not only the proper techniques to utilise their talents but also on when and how to use them. He considered himself responsible for forging the next generation.

There was something satisfying about that compared to destroying and killing regardless of the cause behind the acts.

When lunch time came around, he left the school grounds in his one-man Air Bike. The sleek, gold and crystal-blue frame hovered through the air and carried him to a quaint little café not too far from Pinnacle. His black ponytail whipped around behind him as he weaved through the mid-afternoon rush of motorists.

The café was located on Pricus Street, a lovely little mote no longer than a few blocks that was inspired by modern Arretian design. There was an actual cobblestone road that people could actually walk on while a section covered in bright red brick was used as parking. Metal streetlamps dominated the streets with vines hanging freely from their curling designs as opposed to the pillars of solid light that dominated Havenese walkways. The buildings themselves were, at most, three storeys tall and were mostly flat, square and didn’t possess any stabilising rings or power panels hovering around them. They were all made of brick, painted white and had patios that couldn’t be reorganised at a moment’s notice at the whim of their occupants unlike the other cafés in the city.

It was where Alex liked to meet Rayne for lunch.

Rayne parked his Air Bike and had to walk for about five minutes to get to Rose and Water which was a rather fruity and very natural place that served some unique blends of coffee and cocktails. He could already see Alex when he got inside, although admittedly the big Wulfun was hard to miss. It came as no surprise that Alex already had tall glass filled with some bright red, alcoholic brew that had a sprig of fresh basil sticking out from the top. What stood out though were the tiny edible magical sparks dancing over the tropical umbrella. For having such a flamboyant drink however, Alex seemed lost in thought about something.

“Little early for a Raspberry Starset, isn’t it?”

The older Wulfun barely looked up from his drink as Rayne sat down and waved down a waiter. He ordered his usual – the house blend with one of their famous grilled chicken and avocado club sandwiches.

“JD is going to be going to Incendius is a couple of weeks,” Alex muttered miserably. “He’s going to celebrate his birthday over there.”

It had been the same complaint for the past few days. “Alex, come on. You’re exaggerating. It’s not like a boarding school. He will still get to come home every few days. He’s literally just one portal jump away!”

Alex gave him a foul stare. “There is 250 million kilometres from here to Incendius, Rayne. If the portals go down, do you have any idea how long it’ll take for me to get there?”

In unison with his best friend, Rayne recited, “Using an average military ship it’ll take you a whole six days. Using the Tower Express, it will be fifteen.” He gave the grey-muzzled Wulfun a plain stare. “I know, Alex. Trust me, I know. You have to get over your paranoia that something will happen to JD. Remember, I’ll be right there with him. I’m one of Class 989’s chauffeurs. I’ll keep a close eye on him. I’ll stop any harm from coming to him.”

The look Alex gave him was very telling of what JD’s father really thought and it was a sentiment that Rayne shared. The world was a very chaotic and unpredictable place. It was impossible to account for every possibility and Incendius was currently mired in a civil war. After having both lived through the Fall of Haven and lost so much, they were both very worried about some careless politician, some unpredictable wildcard or some well-meaning but stupid activist saying or doing something that could put those they cared about in danger.

“You have my word, Alex,” Rayne said fiercely. “No harm will come to your son.”

Alex regarded his drink again just as Rayne’s sandwich and coffee arrived. “I really wish your word would be enough, Rayne. Not a comment on your abilities but… you know.”

“I know.” He took a sip of the coffee. It was an interesting taste of the coffee’s bitterness, a faint aromatic kick from rosewater and a tang from some orange zest. “How’s the drink?”

“Alcohol helps.”

He chuckled softly and went to move the conversation away from the impending trip. “You know JD is getting excellent marks in all his classes.”

“Even yours?” countered the astute Wulfun.

“Considering how he refuses to actually spar with anyone, yes. That arrangement we have where he works out in the gym in private after class really helps. Few people know about it. Though admittedly my assistant coaches are beginning to wonder if he’s genetically stunted given his origins.”

Alex was suddenly on edge, his hackles raised and a deep growl rising from his throat. “What?” he demanded venomously.

Keeping his cool, the purple-eyed teacher just said, “Wulfuns his age would be around seven feet tall by now and packing on the muscle. Wolves are built like tanks, after all. At least ordinarily. His build is more along the lines of very fit and masculine Vulpinus or a medium-breed Canonian. They’re just wondering if some of that got mixed in with his splicing since he’s a Gene-Baby.”

The proud father relaxed a little considering how Rayne didn’t use word ‘clone’. Being gay but never finding the right partner, he had eventually decided that he wanted a kid of his own. So he had opted to get a Gene-Baby – in effect a clone. JD was grown in a tube through a normal gestation period and came into the world as a healthy pup. To keep him from being a direct clone of Alex, there was a 10% variance in his genes which accounted for JD’s deeper red colouration, his longer tail, shorter ears, slight flecks of blonde in his hair and – though Alex would deny it fervently – his bigger feet and all the implications that came with it.

“You know why JD is smaller than average,” the Wulfun grumbled.

“Yeah but I can’t tell my coaches that.” Rayne bit into his sandwich. It was the perfect blend of savoury and creamy thanks to the avocado. Perfect Arretian flavours with a Xaosian flare. “What about you? How’s things in the office of one of the most powerful men in the world?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You know I never wanted this office, Rayne. The idea was to stabilise the goddamn world, establish regional governments across the Stations that were autonomous of Haven and then let go. But no. The NGs just want to hold onto their goddamn power!”

Rayne dropped his voice to a whisper. “The problems of a General.”

Alexander Clarke was known by many names. During the Fall of Haven, he was Captain Clarke, the Silver Sniper. To JD, he was Dad. To Rayne, his best friend. But he also led a double life even then. Not known to many, Alexander Clarke came up with a revolutionary technique that allowed him to instantaneously transport entire troops from one location to another provided he had some sort of marker to identify source and destination. This earned him the moniker ‘The Horizon Lord’ and thanks to this and his keen military mind, he rose up the ranks during the Fall and became General Solomon, one of the twenty military leaders that currently held authority over Tower Thirteen as its governing body.

Juggling a teenaged son, worry of said son and the entire world was stressful enough but when the in-fighting between the Generals came into the mix, Rayne could not help but respect the man.

“The NGs really want to keep ruling, huh?” Rayne offered.

Alex took a long, deep sip of his colourful drink, finishing nearly half of it. He let out a content sigh afterwards. “They’ll never admit it but the original ten have been around for about three years. The NGs only came in about last year. They want to be in power for at least as long as we have.”

The ‘NGs’ were a colloquial term given to the ‘Next Generation’ of Generals or ‘New Generals’ depending on who was asked. There were twenty Generals in total but only the first ten had actually fought during the Fall. The next ten had come in later as a means to help restabilise Tower Thirteen. It was these ten that were the New Generals.

“And you don’t want to just abdicate and give the reins over to them?”

“Hell no.” Alex was growling, baring his fangs. “Some of them have great ideas and are pretty level headed. It’s why we brought them in. But most of them just want to hold onto power instead of giving it up. They’re purposefully delaying the establishment of a system of government outside of the Church for each Station!”

The General sighed and quickly reigned himself in. “You don’t have to worry yourself about that though, Rayne. You’ve paid your dues. Just enjoy being a teacher.”

Rayne gave his friend a smirk. “I would if you’d stop putting us in this little illusionary bubble of yours that keeps our conversations secret from the outside world.”

Another – and secret – talent of General Solomon and a sort of genetic talent passed down amongst the Clarkes. All the Clarkes were considered a class of magic-users that were not really well-advertised as their use of magic did not use the Illuminus Weizar. Any form of magic that did not use the Illuminated Word had been considered blasphemous under the Church of the Tower’s reign but with the Generals moving it, such techniques were encouraged. And the Clarkes were Illusionists.

Every Clarke had a different spin on the power while some didn’t even use it at all. JD was still a Clarke despite his status as a clone and he possessed some illusionist skills but it all focused in his eyes. Though the young Wulfun would deny it was any sort of power, JD possessed a crippling, laser-like stare that when focused on a target and the target stared back into his eyes, would leave them paralysed. Alex said it was just a natural skill that his son had and probably didn’t even know he was using. He never refuted JD’s claim that he had no illusionist skills.

“What gave me away?” Alex asked with a smirk.

“The fact that you were so openly talking about your work. Generals can’t afford that sort of thing.” Rayne shrugged and hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “Besides, I can smell the magic in the air. Now that I’m used to you throwing illusions around me, I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Right. Of course.”

“So can you drop the spell already? I’m getting sick of smelling cinnamon.”

“My magic smells like cinnamon?”

“No. You just think that this place smells like cinnamon so there’s a constant smell of the stuff in the air. It’s unrelenting. It’s what gave you away.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I’ll have to work on that then.”

Alex, on the other hand, had mastered almost all of the techniques and could cast illusions with frightening efficiency to the point where any illusion he cast was completely realistic. He could even convince a target that they had been stabbed in the heart to the point that their brain would stop their own hearts in that belief.

The Wulfun didn’t even move and suddenly the world around them abruptly shifted.

Everything was silent. There were no sounds of coffee makers hissing, cups clinking on saucers or chatter. All eyes were suddenly directed at the nearby screens where an emergency broadcast seemed to be playing.

“Rayne…” began Alex. “Is that… Pinnacle?”

Rayne’s heart dropped as he saw the idyllic five towers behind the newscaster. “Oh shit…” He pressed his hands together in prayer. “Please don’t be JD… Please don’t be JD…”

The newscaster suddenly pressed a finger against her ear. “Just a minute, Mike, we’re getting a transmission from somewhere inside the academy… It may be the terrorist leader again. Patching it in now.”

A bright, familiar voice cut through.

“Hi all you happy people! Just letting you know everyone you sent in after Konseral is dead now. Don’t believe me?”

There was a loud squishing noise.

“Hear that? That’s me dancing in the entrails of one of the guys I killed. Lirion I think he was called. Nope. Nope. That’s an ‘A’ not an ‘O’. Sorry. There’s blood everywhere. His name is Lirian. Oh hey! He had nachos for lunch!”

There was a sound of crunching.

“Geez. Eating just before an assassination attempt. Bad form, bro. Bad form. Cramps get you. Nothing worse than sneaking up behind someone, ready to stab their ass when you get a stomach cramp. Really sucks.”

Everyone in the café were starting to exchange glances. Rayne’s collar was suddenly seized from behind and he found himself staring right into Alex’s fierce, blue eyes with the Wulfun’s bared fangs just in the periphery of his vision.

“Get me into that school. Now.”

Rayne flicked out the keys to his Air Bike. “Yessir.”

As a last note, JD said in a sing-song voice, “Anywhooo… Anyone who is part of an international syndicate of assassins that have branched off and embraced technological advancements from their more traditionalist fire-wielding, blindfold bearing, women-only group is going to die now. Oh and don’t bother running. At least show some balls and fight before you die. I’ll have something flattering to put on your gravestones.

“Ta-ta.”

Spiritual Scion (Skye)

The Red Lightning

As part of their international secondment into Incendius, Class 989 was going to have several lectures from guests originating from Incendius. Skye was honestly looking forward to them. The young Tigris was always hungry for knowledge and he was very excited to be visiting the Station of the Sun in a few weeks.

It was little wonder then that he was the first one into the class and parked himself right at the front seat in the vast lecture theatre. Shaped much like a shell, the theatre had several ascending levels that with rows upon rows of seats that could house up to a hundred students at once – which was about how large Class 989 was.

Skye sat on the comfortable, cushiony seats, set down the protein shake – mixed with berries and bananas – in the cup holder and took out the long, crystal tablet that was his personal device. He settled it on the curved desk in front of him and split it right down the middle, opening it like a book before setting it in front of him, ready to start taking notes.

“Man Skye,” Wood complained. “Did you really have to pick the front row?”

“He’s just excited,” Buster snickered, parking himself beside the Tigris and giving the smaller feline a little shoulder bump. “The kitty can’t wait to go to Incendius.”

“And here I thought Canonians were the ones who liked walks,” Wood said, taking up the seat on Skye’s other side.

“Don’t be racist, Wood,” Skye chastised.

“I wasn’t being racist. Just observant.”

Shaking his head, Skye hit a few buttons on his light-blue tablet which began recording their environment. He wanted to make sure he had every part of this lecture from the moment it began to when everyone filed out of the room. Realising that he was a little frazzled from his time at the gym during lunch with Wood and Buster, he licked his paws and brushed back his short, jet-black hair. He could never quite tame it like how Wood had his perfectly trimmed into youthful spikes. Buster didn’t have extra hair and were he human, he would’ve been bald. Skye’s efforts only ended up giving his hair a messy look like he had just gotten out of bed. At least the long, braided strands that hung from either side of his temples remained untouched. They were a mark of his ancestry as a Miasman complete with colourful beads and eaglehawk feathers at the end.

Coming from Miasma, Skye had a very rich heritage. It showed in the light brown, leather vest he wore which was arrayed with a variety of home-spun beads and cloth. Before he met Wood, he usually wore something else beneath the jacket but after working out with the hulking Draconis and gaining some confidence, he found the strength to show off his chiselled abdominals and bouncy pectorals which usually became a focus for female attention. He usually blushed which caused the white fur on his chest to glow pink and that always gave Wood fodder to tease him about. Though he was pretty sure that Wood didn’t call him on going around shirtless because the Draconis had this weird fixation of not being the centre of attention.

Their guest lecturer entered the theatre just as the last of the class was filing in.

Skye found his heart leaping to his throat.

The man before him was a big, powerfully built Porcinus. A boar bearing dark, smooth, brown fur all over his body and two, proud tusks, Konseral Darmin was a sight to behold. Dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he showed off his thick, meaty arms that led to a big, powerful chest. In many ways, he had Buster’s build with a bit of a gut but his shirt hid it well. His legs were quite thick and bulged from his long, worker’s pants with many pockets. There was mud on the rims of the black fabric and also on the edges of his thick boots. Konseral’s brown eyes were bright, cheerful, warm but also very intelligent. He wore his dark hair sleeked back in a modest wave and also partially to hide the greying of his temples.

“So who is this guy?” Buster whispered to Skye.

“He’s Konseral Darmin,” answered the Tigris, his ropey tail performing circles behind him. “He’s the founder and leader of the Reaching Flame charity. When Haven was attacked during the Fall_,_ Konseral built the Flame as an attempt to send workers here to help with recovery and relief. His charity re-established destroyed farming and agricultural sites in the other reaches of Haven. In the past few years since the war ended, the Flame has helped make Haven sustainable once more. He’s a hero!”

Wood nudged his thigh gently. “Someone’s got a chubby for the porky.”

“Wood!”

Any mirth suddenly faded as the last person to enter the class began looking for a seat. Wood’s features fell the moment Jack Denver Clarke noticed that the last seat left was right next to the Draconis.

“Fuck no…” Wood moaned.

“Just swallow your distaste and let him sit there, Wood,” growled Skye. “You’re not going to catch ‘no-magic’ from him. I want to make sure Konseral gets time for everything he needs to say with enough time for questions!”

“Nerd…”

Sighing, Wood shuffled as close to Skye as possible and even folded his wings as closely to himself as he could. JD ducked his head, keeping his eyes down as he made his way across the room and sat down right next to the Draconis.

With everyone seated, Konseral cleared his throat. He spoke with a clear, loud, masculine voice that commanded authority but was also light, warm and welcoming.

“Good afternoon students,” said the charity leader. “Now before we start, I need to ask.” He leaned casually against the desk at the front of the lecture theatre. “How exactly does your schooling system work? From what I hear, we’ve got a whole spread of students across all year levels here from freshmen to seniors. And you’re all going to Incendius? Other schools here keep everyone separate except for advanced classes and then again no more than a year in difference.”

Skye’s paw was instantly in the air.

“Yes...”

“Skye King, sir,” the eager, bespectacled Tigris said, lowering his arm. “Pinnacle divides its students into Classes based on their home station and whether or not they’ve been to a particular Station or not. Pinnacle has an amazing travel program within the other Stations where students spend an entire year studying in another Station to get exposure to other cultures. It has establishments – admittedly smaller than this location – in each Station. Every year, students are rotated from one station to the next to study at their campus and take in the culture while still being able to come home whenever they want. By the time someone has finished their studies here, they have likely gotten to visit at least half of all of the stations at least once.”

“Don’t you kids get to choose your subjects and branch out?”

“Oh yes, sir,” Skye responded eagerly. “But we all have core classes such as mathematics, magic and Combat Classes together as a single Class.”

Konseral lifted his eyebrows and nodded. “Ah, well. That answers my question.”

He probably already knew that, Skye thought to himself. He was just breaking the ice. Brilliant!

“Well now I know something,” exclaimed the boar, clapping his mighty hands together cheerfully. “So now it is my turn to impart some knowledge upon you. I’m sure you all know about Incendius. The Station of the Sun.”

Konseral went over the basics of Incendius quickly. The Station was too far from the Chrysalis tower or Chrysalis Core itself to receive any light from the majestic crystal. Normally, the Incendian mainland would be plunged into darkness were it not for the immense edifice at the top of the Incendian capital, Corona. The Sun Spire was supposedly the final resting place of the Sun Goddess, Apollia, and from there, her brilliant light shone across most of the Incendian mainland and provided light and warmth similar to Chrysalis.

There were three primary ‘nations’ as it were on Incendius. The Church’s devout were mostly scattered around the rich lands around Corona and its surrounding cities. To the southeast within the Twilight Forest rested the Custodia Vampiri, a race of half-man, half-bat nonhumans who lived underground in the magnificent, richly decorated cities. To the southwest, closer to the icy lands of the south were the Custodia Lupus, a race of half-man, half-wolf warriors who manned Chillfarn – the icy fortress to the south that barred the north from the evil influence of the Darkened. The Darkened were a race of light-hating creatures that almost destroyed Incendius were it not for the grace of the Sun Goddess and the Brave Farmer.

Skye took it all in. Writing his own notes on his tablet with masterful keystrokes while listening in on Konseral’s every word.

“Now don’t be fooled,” said the cheery charity worker with a smile. “You’ll heard only about those three because they’re the ones Haven is most associated with. But there are others there too. To the west of the Incendian mainland are the Ashlands which is a collection of islands that formed around the mighty Kalantan Volcano. Still within the range of the Sun Spire but somewhere the Church has never quite populated or civilised due to their ongoing war with the natives, the Searinti. Then of course there is the Sunless Lands which is an entire continent far from the Sun Spire and left completely untouched by it. It is ruled by the Sultan of the Light and –”

Before Konseral could finish, there was a loud crash from outside the door. Skye didn’t really mind it. Probably someone throwing a fireball again or using Geomancy. However, when his tablet began flickering and spouting error that he had lost connection with the school server, then he got worried.

“What the…?” he began. He slapped the tablet a little. “I lost connection.”

“Me too…” Buster grumbled. “Aw man. I was on a good run too.”

“You were playing a game.”

“Yeah? So?”

Wood was halfway out of his seat, his wings starting to spread in a sign of aggression. “Something’s wrong.”

BOOM!

The doors suddenly blew open and an immense amount of acrid, black smoke came pooling into the theatre. It spread unnaturally, immediately engulfing everyone and blocking Skye’s vision. The Tigris immediately covered his muzzle and coughed out a quick spell to filter the air so he could at least breathe properly. The smoke stung his eyes but it was short lived. A moment later, the smoke cleared as quickly as it came and suddenly Skye found himself staring down the shaft of a crossbow bolt.

Seven strangely dressed men were in the room with them. All of them were wearing what appeared to be black, leather, tight-fitting garments with long, billowing, red coats that reached their ankles. Each one had their heads shaved. They all had wrist-mounted crossbows on their left wrists and in their right, they held a sharp-looking square blade with a sizzling yellow edge.

“Nobody move!” shouted one of the men.

“Who the hell are you!?” shouted one of the students.

Ka-thwack!

That very same student froze where he stood as the crossbow bolt quivered just an inch from is left eye, buried in the wall behind him.

“I told you not to move,” growled the leader. He turned towards Konseral who was currently restrained by two of the men. “Is he secure?”

“Yes, sir,” answered one of the others.

“Good.” He glanced to his right. “We have Konseral.”

Abruptly, Skye’s tablet beeped and as did everyone else’s. Light spilled out from the announcement system in the theatre and the image of another bald-headed human appeared in front of them all. Her features were everywhere, on their screens, on the board behind Konseral and hovering in the middle of the class.

“Greeting students of Pinnacle Academy,” she greeted in a crisp, sharp, commanding tone. “Do not resist. We are here for only one person. Konseral Darmin. We will, however, not hesitate to kill any of you that get in our way. Do not impede us and you will not come into any harm. We will leave shortly.”

“The fuck!?” Wood exclaimed, loudly leaping to his feet. “Just who the hell do you think you people are!?”

A crossbow bolt sailed through the air and the sound of tearing cloth made Skye flinch. Wood gasped and stumbled. There was a new hole in his right wing. It would heal but blood was already streaming down from the wound.

“You were warned not to move.”

JD, being on Wood’s right, immediately grabbed a handkerchief he had handy and applied it to the wound. Thankfully Wood did not push him back.

“They’re assassins,” the Wulfun whispered softly.

Skye’s rounded ears perked. “What?”

There was a strange fire in the Wulfun’s eyes that made Skye’s blood go cold. “Fuocotan. They’re Fuocotan.”

“Fuck-a-what?” Buster asked, leaning past Skye.

JD regarded the assassins in the room warily. It seemed that they were waiting on something as they quietly patrolled the theatre. Two of the assassins moved towards the windows opposite the door, watching for any attackers. Another two positioned themselves at the doors. The last two patrolled the front and back of the theatre while the leader held Konseral down.

“They’re a branch of the Caesus Sorores,” JD explained. “_The _Blind Sisters. After the Fall of Haven, the Sisters split up into three factions.” JD jerked his chin towards the men holding them hostage. “The Fuocotan are the separatists of the group. They embrace technology, employ men and even go so far as the cybernetically enhance themselves. I’m willing to wager those are high-frequency vibroblades they’re wielding and they all communicate with one another using some sort of cybernetic implant in their eyes.”

Wood gave the Wulfun a look of utter disbelief. “How do you know this?”

JD didn’t answer though Konseral began to speak.

“What do you want from me?” the Porcinus growled. “Never mind. Whatever it is, I don’t care. Leave these kids alone.”

The leader of this band of Fuocotan spat right in Konseral’s face. “Your false sense of courage is incredibly transparent Darmin. Just shut up and sit there. This’ll be over soon.”

Skye noticed that JD’s fists were tightening.

“I can’t just sit here and let this happen,” growled the Wulfun.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” growled Wood.

Suddenly, JD’s blue eyes snapped towards the Draconis and the proud Bladebreaker visibly flinched upon being hit by those laser-like orbs. Even Skye, who was not in the direct firing line, felt the chilling effect that almost made him piss his pants.

“Do you know what’s stupid?” JD sneered. “That a school priding itself on building the next generation of the world’s elite, who trains for two hours each day on how to fight off threats, finds itself in a terrorist situation and not a single person in this room is willing to stand up and fight!”

“Hey you!”

Skye flinched as the Fuocotan that was marching along the front row approached them.

“Keep it down,” snarled the man.

JD mercifully closed his eyes. But when he opened them again, they were so full of fire and determination that Skye was pretty sure they could burn a hole into the floor.

He spoke in even, cool tones. “You know what? I don’t think I will.”

“What was that?” snarled the assassin.

Wood seized JD’s wrist. “Clarke –!”

Skye had been on the receiving end of Wood’s iron grip so he was very surprised when JD just brushed off the Draconis’ big hands with a dismissive shrug. JD rose to his feet and student in the room collectively held their breaths.

“Sit down!” barked the Fuocotan.

“I don’t think I will,” countered JD. “Actually, you know what? Scratch that. There’s no ‘thinking’ about it. I won’t sit back down.” Then a weird, chilling, sadistic smile crossed the Wulfun’s features. “Ask me why. Go on. Ask.”

The bald man glanced at his superior before going back to JD. “Why?”

“Because, I’m going to play a game with you.” Clarke held up one finger. “If you can correctly guess why I won’t sit down, you win and I’ll do as you say. If you lose… well, you get to look like a real idiot in front of your friends. And to make things even easier, I’ll give you three choices.” He held up three fingers.

The assassin shook his head. “I’m not –”

“Choice the first!” JD bellowed loudly so that the rest of the class could hear. “I am actually the informant that told you exactly where Konseral was going to be therefore I should be exempt from this treatment and allowed to shake my bare ass in front of the students who have tormented me over the past months because…” He suddenly turned towards the rest of the class, shoving both his middle fingers in their direction. “… fuck ya’ll, I work with fucking assassins!”

Skye’s mind reeled. Was that true? Did Jack Denver Clarke, the meek, magically crippled Wulfun that had been everyone’s – including Skye’s at one point – punching bag really working with international assassins!?

“Choice the second!” The red Wulfun turned back towards the Fuocotan and then confident strode past the man, marching along the front of the theatre with exaggerated steps while his paws were firmly clasped behind his back. “This is actually a brilliant stalling tactic where I’m cleverly keeping you preoccupied while the signal from your boss on the roof has given her signal that the school’s security systems have been disabled and you are now clear to carry your hostage to make your escape. After all, the longer you spend here, the greater chance someone will notice the school has gone really quiet and call the authorities.” He winked at the leader of the group. “Brilliant eh?”

Now Skye was confused. Both were viable options…

I think…

“And the last option.” JD stopped dead centre of the theatres front, facing the class, his back to the leader and blocking Konseral. “I’m actually a badass and this is just an awesome build-up to a kick-ass fight scene.” He confidently bowed towards the man he had been addressing. “Your choice.”

The Fuocotan glanced around the room, at his colleagues, at the students. Skye heard a strange chattering sound and glanced to his left. Buster was gnawing at his nails. Given that he was a Bovios, those nails were as hard as hooves.

“What?” said the big bull. “This is fucking scary!”

The sound of billowing cloth made Skye turn towards the standing Fuocotan who had turned towards JD. “Considering that we tracked Konseral here ourselves with no informants…” His form suddenly exploded into a burst of fire, ash and smoke. A similar burst erupted from behind JD and the man stepped forward, swinging his vibroblade. “… I choose two!”

Wood was on his feet again. “CLARKE!”

Skye’s heart jumped to his throat. “Whoa…”

Buster’s jaw dropped and he was left speechless.

JD’s confident smirk was still on his face. Slowly, the Wulfun turned his head to glance over his shoulder while his paw held the Fuocotan’s wrist back with ease. “Sorry. The answer was number three.”

The Wulfun swung the restrained wrist over his shoulder, throwing the stunned Fuocotan over him and sending the bald assassin slamming back first into the ground. Before the man could even react, JD forced the vibroblade that the killer was still clutching straight into the stunned human’s chest! The man’s brown eyes went wide in shock.

And froze like that when JD abruptly pulled the blade towards himself, sliding the yellow-edged blade up from the assassin’s chest cavity, down the middle of his neck and out from the top of his head effectively slicing the man down the middle.

Everyone in the room reeled back as the Wulfun was splattered with blood.

JD calmly rose and tossed the blade in the air, catching it by the hilt with ease. “What do you know. It really is a high-frequency vibroblade. Good model too.” He glanced over his shoulder at the leader of the assassins with a casual smile. “VB-SX7000?”

“Kill him!” screeched the assassin.

The blood-covered Wulfun looked genuinely confused at the statement. “What? Is it the 8000?”

The assassins at the windows flicked up their crossbows. Loud twangs filled the air as their bolts sailed through the air. Skye didn’t get a chance to shout a warning. Wood immediately seized his shoulder and shoved him under the table. Students in the classroom ducked under their own tables or held up their tablets in a feeble attempt to protect themselves. Skye peeked over the table, fully expecting to see JD turned into a pincushion by the flying bolts. Yet to his utter surprise, the Wulfun stood coolly there, feet plated wide for stability and swinging the vibroblade through the air faster than the bolts could fly. He was knocking the bolts out of the air with the sword!

“That’s… insane,” whispered the Tigris. “Modern crossbows travel at about 500 FPS… There’s only got to be about fifty feet between JD and the assassins…” He glanced from where the Fuocotan quickly realised the futility at firing at JD. The assassin at the top of the steps fired his own bolt, a testing shot. Without even looking, JD knocked it aside. “If JD can deflect those bolts with such speed…”

“Keep your head down!” Wood ordered but Skye brushed him off.

“No! I want to see this!”

Frustrated, the two assassins at the door of the theatre charged forward. Their forms vanished into puffs of fiery smoke. Moving in perfect formation, one of the trained killers appeared behind JD about three steps away. The other sprang up from the smoke right in front of him, swinging another vibroblade. Blood dripping down his face, JD smirked darkly before deftly ducking the blow. The assassin behind him had anticipated the move and fired his crossbow. JD immediately hurled his body to the right, performing a handless cartwheel with his legs swinging out and striking the second assassin’s arms, unbalancing him. At the same time, his free paw snatched the crossbow bolt aimed at his head out of the air. The moment he landed back on his feet, he spun around and was suddenly upon the Fuocotan that had fired at him. As punishment for the offense, he drove the bolt right into the man’s left eye, extracting a scream from some of the female students still watching.

But the red Wulfun wasn’t done. JD swung behind the injured man and lifted his crossbow arm. With a quick jerk, he forced the weapon to fire. The bolt struck the second assassin right in the neck. The man fell to his knees, gurgling as blood burst from the wound like a fountain.

Two big hands seized Skye’s shoulders and dragged him back under the table. Both his friends were holding him down.

“Keep your head down!” Buster growled. “There’s fucking assassins out there!”

“And our classmate!” Skye countered.

There, Buster’s expression grew grim. “No Skye. I meant it when I said there’s just assassins out there.”

The Tigris gave his big Bovios a curious look. “Huh?”

“What other kind of guy can kill an assassin but another assassin!” Buster looked towards Wood who was just returning the same confused look as Skye. “Think about it, man!”

The implications dawned on Skye that he may have just been participating in bullying an assassin for the better part of a year.

“That’s bullshit,” Wood growled. “There is no way Jack Denver Clarke is an assassin.”

“Explain that to all the guys he’s killing!”

“Maybe he’s been hiding his real skills from us or something. Maybe the reason why he never participated in any Combat Classes or anything is because he’s just too damn arrogant about his own skills and has been purposefully holding back because he’s just that damn good.” Wood’s cheeks were starting to burn with fury, a sure sign that he was once again getting work up over those he considered were ‘privileged’, ‘conceited’ or ‘showy’. “Either way, we need to give him a hand!”

Suddenly, JD’s muzzle poked in between them. “Oh really, you don’t have to,” the Wulfun said cheerily through the blood splatters. “I’ve got plenty of hands. Here, have this one.”

Without further ceremony, Clarke dropped a severed wrist still clutching a vibroblade in between them. Wood recoiled at the sight and Skye felt his stomach churn in rebellion. Then JD was gone, the sound of clashing blades ringing in the air.

“Well…” the Draconis gulped. “I’m not convinced.”

The classroom suddenly fell very silent. Exchanging glances with his friends, Skye slowly lifted himself up and took stock of their surroundings. Four of the Fuocotan lay dead at the front of the classroom. Another looked to have been crucified on crossbow bolts in the back of the theatre. A sixth lay atop the table, missing a hand and staring up at the ceiling with dead eyes. The last, the leader had his back pressed up against the windows while JD stood in front of him, wielding two vibroblades.

“S – Stay away from me!” stammered the man.

JD rolled his eyes and dropped the weapons dismissively over his shoulder. “Oh don’t be such a baby. I’m not going to kill you.” The Wulfun was suddenly beside the man, draping an arm over his shoulder with a cheesy – albeit blood-covered – grin on his muzzle. “Really. Look. Pinkie promise.” He ever lifted his paw and offered his pinkie to the assassin.

What is going on?

The leading assassin regarded the confusing gesture. Shaking but realising that he was obviously trapped, the man lifted his hand and curled his own pinkie around JD’s. They shook with JD smiling warmly.

“See?” offered the red Wulfun. He gently patted the man’s cheeks.

A realisation dawned on Skye. “Oh god… he’s going to torture that poor man.”

Contrary to his statement, JD abruptly seized the assassin’s face and forcefully slammed him against the window. The reinforced glass cracked and before the killer could react, JD pulled him back and slammed him once more against the window, blood erupting from the impact. With one final thrust, the threw the man screaming right out the window.

“What the fuck, man!?” Wood exclaimed, leaping out from underneath the window. “You promised! You pinkie promised!”

JD turned a cool stare towards the Draconis that had tormented him for months. “And I kept it. I didn’t kill him.” The assassin’s screams were abruptly cut off by a sickening crack. “Gravity did.”

With a dark determination, JD strode across the room towards the circle of dead bodies. Konseral, who was still tied to a chair at the front of the room and covered in blood, could only stare helplessly as the other students began emerging from beneath their tables. They all watched their classmate kneel beside one of the assassins and shove his paw right into the left eye socket of the dead man.

“Oh Goddess!” Buster cried. “Clarke, what the fuck!?”

Using his other paw, JD placed a finger up against his muzzle. “Do you mind? I’m about to make a very important call.”

He pulled the eyeball right out of the socket. Though covered in blood, there was no denying the machinery attached to the device. He then made his way towards Skye and plucked his crystal tablet off the table.

“Mind if I borrow this, buddy? Thanks.”

Clarke then proceeded to attach one of the machine’s wires straight to the adaptive tablet. His fingers moved across the screen with expertise. The device beeped. The feminine voice of the Fuocotan leader came out of the device.

“What? Who is this?”

JD’s muzzle split into that insane grin of his again as he wandered back to the circle of dead men. “Hi all you happy people! Just letting you know everyone you sent in after Konseral is dead now. Don’t believe me?”

He suddenly shoved his bare feet into the guts of one of the dead assassins.

“Hear that? That’s me dancing in the entrails of one of the guys I killed.” The Wulfun leaned down towards the man, squinting his eyes towards what appeared to be a name on the crossbow the assassin was wearing on his wrist. “Lirion I think he was called. Nope. Nope. That’s an ‘A’ not an ‘O’. Sorry. There’s blood everywhere. His name is Lirian. Oh hey! He had nachos for lunch!”

As he continued to blend the assassin’s guts, the unmistakable noise of crunching could be heard.

“Geez. Eating just before an assassination attempt. Bad form, bro. Bad form. Cramps get you. Nothing worse than sneaking up behind someone, ready to stab their ass when you get a stomach cramp. Really sucks.”

JD stepped off the man and headed back towards Skye while still holding the tablet.

“Anywhooo… Anyone who is part of an international syndicate of assassins that have branched off and embraced technological advancements from their more traditionalist fire-wielding, blindfold bearing, women-only group is going to die now. Oh and don’t bother running. At least show some balls and fight before you die. I’ll have something flattering to put on your gravestones.”

Clarke gave the image on the crystal plane a little wave.

“Ta-ta.”

Then he cut off the transmission before placing the tablet back on Skye’s table. His face had gone back to being incredibly serious again.

“Everyone stay here. The Fuocotan are going to come in here and demand to know who killed their men. They’re going to threaten you. I don’t really care if you tell them who I am because by the time one of you spills the beans, I’ll already have disabled their jamming device, stabbed one of them a gratuitous amount of times and killed their leader.” He rolled his eyes and waved a paw limply and dismissively through the air. “Admittedly I’ve spoiled the plot now but… you know…” A bright, cheerful and horrifying grin crossed his muzzle. “But try to look surprised for them, would you? Everyone loves a little theatre.”

JD spun and headed towards the door. Despite his apparently cheerful mood, Skye noted that the Wulfun’s tail wasn’t wagging. Covered in blood as he was, it almost seemed like the Wulfun was a crimson ghost that was striding amongst them. Almost every last white speck on his body was gone, bathed utterly in blood.

I wonder if there’s some sort of symbolism in that.

The red wolf suddenly shoved his paw right through the glass plane of the door, catching everyone by surprise. He yanked another stunned Fuocotan through the broken window, pressing their noses together with a savage grin on his face.

“Hi.”

He drove the man’s face right into one of the lingering glass shards of the window.

“Bye.”

Then he was through the door with the screams of the Fuocotan echoing into the theatre.

Wood was marching around his desk a second later.

“Wood! Where are you going!?” Buster exclaimed.

“To help!” barked the Draconis.

“Help!? Bro, Clarke just killed eight of these assassins! By himself!” Buster waved his meaty hand through the air, gesturing at the bodies strewn around the theatre. “Do you really think a guy like that needs any help?”

Skye moved away from where he was hiding and positioned himself right next to Buster. “He’s right, Wood. If anything, we’ll just get in JD’s way if we try to help.”

The proud Draconis suddenly spun around, fangs bared. “I am not going to let that arrogant little piece of shit off that easily!” He slammed a foot into the ground almost like he was throwing a tantrum. “I am not going to let him walk in here, pretend he’s magically crippled and incapable of defending himself for four months and then pull this kind of shit! Not on my watch!”

There was some deep-seated feeling beneath the surface of that fury that Skye only glimpsed but he was sure that Wood Bladebreaker was not telling the truth; he was fairly certain Wood Bladebreaker didn’t even know the truth himself.

“Bro,” Buster said with a sigh. “You know I’ll always have your back.” The big bull took a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks. “Aw fuck… Fine. Let’s go after the little psycho.”

Wood glanced towards Skye, almost pleading. Though every bone in the Tigris’ body screamed at him not to follow, his heart told him otherwise. A crossroads presented itself to him. On one path, he could choose a destiny of just being another cog in the wheel of an education system that would set him on a path to become a leading researching, a magical teacher or maybe some other professional where he would work from dawn till dusk. On the other, he found himself looking towards Konseral; a man who had taken a bold step away from his own home and comfort zone and helped others less fortunate himself.

One path begged him to join them, join the family, join the masses of the mundane.

On the other, he was asked to ‘Help’.

He flicked his paw and it was immediately encased in a wreath of flame. “Let’s do this.”

Wood beamed and though other students began protesting or just staring at them in shock, the three friends charged out of the door. None of them had to ask which way JD went for the carnage spoke for itself. At one point, it looked like JD had cut open one of the Fuocotan and dragged the guy’s bloody corpse across the floor.

It was easy to follow the trail of blood up a few floors to one of the rooftop recreation areas. Being so tall, the Ascension Tower had big open-air gardens and platforms where students could just lounge about during their breaks or where some more outdoorsy teachers would take their students. It was where that on one of the western platforms that Wood, Buster and Skye burst into and found themselves face to face with the Fuocotan.

There were only about six of them remaining with the one woman amongst them standing behind the group of five red-coated assassins. She was standing beside what looked like a sophisticated piece of machinery – a tower with many brightly glowing, yellow stabiliser rings that was likely the device blocking communications in and out of Pinnacle. JD stood across from them, unarmed and standing casually like he was just hanging out at bar.

The Wulfun glanced over his shoulder at them. There was no look of surprise, no flash of concern. Just those cold, intense blue eyes and that cocky smile.

“Right on time.”

Then he was gone.

The Fuocotan flinched and the woman let out a cry. “No!”

JD suddenly appeared behind one of the male assassins. His paws seized the sides of the man’s head and gave it a vicious twist. There was a sickening crack that had Wood jump back in surprise. The killer’s skull had almost made a full 180 before dropping to the ground. JD seized the man’s vibroblade and threw it sharply to his left. The yellow sword jammed into the leg of another warrior, sending the man toppling to the ground screaming.

Again, the red Wulfun was gone and he was suddenly behind the falling man, clutching his crossbow arm and aiming the weapon at a third assassin. There was a loud twang. This time, though, the assassin was quick to react and swung ducked the arrow. The man’s eyes went wide in terror the moment JD vanished and the Wulfun’s breath wafted across his neck. A pilfered vibroblade plunged right through the man’s skull from behind a second later.

“Stop moving!” the woman screamed. “Just stop moving!”

There was something about those words that rang a bell in Skye’s mind. “Shukuchi…”

Buster caught his whisper. “What?”

Skye held up a paw for silence as he focused. He watched as the fourth member of the Fuocotan turned to flee and suddenly, JD was right behind him, particularly in his blind spot. The Wulfun delivered a crippling kick to the man’s knees, knocking him to the ground. The red wolf swiped the assassin’s vibroblade and tossed it behind him at the fifth and last male member of the band of killers. Naturally, this last man jerked away from the projectile. That one movement cost him his life as JD immediately appeared behind the man, caught the flying vibroblade and drove it right into the assassin’s left ear and into the brain.

“It’s a non-magical form of pseudo-teleportation employed by the Diatollians,” Skye explained. “Shukuchi follows the movements of Force energy through the air and then brings the subject into the blind spot of that energy. That’s how JD is able to move so fast! He’s literally following the Force energy! It’s in his whole fighting style! He forces his enemies to move so he has somewhere to teleport to and then attack!”

A realisation dawned upon him.

“He used us!”

“What?” Wood demanded.

Skye couldn’t help but slap his forehead and laugh. “Oh Goddess… JD strode up here knowing that the Fuocotan had figured him out! They were in a standstill! They wouldn’t move so he couldn’t attack. But then he baited us into following him! He left a trail for us to follow so when we arrived, the assassins would look to us! They would move!”

Wood’s eyes were instantly filled with surprise and then anger. “That son of a bitch!”

Likely realising that she was outdone, the Fuocotan’s female member stood in front of her device defiantly. JD finished slaughtering the last member and turned to her, a dark smile on his muzzle.

“Your turn,” he growled.

She threw her head back and laughed. “You know pup, as an assassin I have learned many ways to strike at my enemy’s weaknesses. I would consider you a very worthy opponent and though I may die here, I would happily strike a blow unto you from which you will never recover.”

JD approached, nice and slow, with a vibroblade in his paw. “I sincerely doubt that.”

“Oh no?” She grinned at him savagely. “Do you really believe that, Red Lightning?”

That name struck a huge bell of realisation in Skye’s mind. The knowledgeable Tigris could not help but fall back a step and point at JD in shock. “Y – Y – You’re the Red Lightning!?”

JD didn’t even flinch though his smile did waver a little. “Bravo. That actually hurt.”

Wood gave Skye a puzzled look. “The who?”

It was Buster who surprisingly answered. “The Red Lightning...” Buster said as he stepped forward in awe. “Part of Squad 47 of the Generals’ Army.”

“What? There’s only 46 squads in the Generals’ Army,” Wood argued.

Buster shook his head. “Officially, yeah. But Squad 47 was different.” The Bovios’ dark eyes fell on the number 47 barely visible through the blood on Clarke’s jacket. “They were known as The Dead Tails. Most of them were civilians. The rest were military personnel that were thought to be dead because their units were all killed and they were assumed dead. During the Fall, they were trapped behind enemy lines with no hope of recovery. But they still fought. They were ruthless. Brutal. Other units and entire battalions would go charging into a camp expecting a fight only to find everyone slaughtered and the number 47 drawn somewhere. It was said that Squad 47 got their name because they were all considered dead and at most, the only part that anyone ever saw of them were their tails as they faded back into the shadows.”

The big bull nodded towards JD, perhaps out of respect. “There were supposed to be nine members of the Tails. Each had their own codename. The Red Lightning was the group’s own assassin. He got his name because supposedly he moved so fast that he generated red coloured lightning wherever he moved. He was supposed to be even faster than the lightning so you’d be dead even before the lightning struck.”

The Fuocotan leader just smirked, grinning savagely at JD. “That was just rumour, child,” she said. “War stories exaggerated for the eager masses to place their heroes on a pedestal.” Her gaze narrowed as her grin broadened in glee. “So this is where you have been hiding. Building your life from the ashes again? Think you can run away from the blood that has caked your paws? What did you hope to accomplish? Get an education? Find a job? Have a family?”

She threw her head back, cackled madly and spread her arms, bearing her breast to him. “I care not if you slay me now. My brothers and sisters will come for you now that you have killed us. They will hunt you down to the ends of Tower Thirteen until you or they are all dead! But the best part?” Her eyes went wide in madness. “The best part is that I have ruined your only chance of a normal life! The one thing you cherish over all else!”

Skye’s heart broke.

No…

He realised just why JD had been keeping his identity as the Red Lightning a secret. The poor guy just wanted a normal life after the war. And now…

JD’s eyes were still cold and hard. But even they fell away as he regarded his bloodied paw. The Fuocotan laughed as his pain.

“Clarke…” The sorrowful whisper came from the most surprising of sources – Wood Bladebreaker. Skye looked up to the taller Draconis, finding an apologetic and sympathetic expression on Wood’s normally hard features.

JD lifted his paw to eyelevel, gazing at the trio between his fingers. “You know those rumours about me being able to generate lightning?”

The Fuocotan mistress stopped laughing. Her smile abruptly faded when crimson lightning crackled between the Wulfun’s fingers.

“Funny that.”

The woman barely even got to scream as JD launched the red bolts straight at her. Her limbs flailed madly. Cybernetic augmentations, hidden beneath her skin, abruptly short-circuited, exploding in a burst of fire and flesh. Metal was melted deep into her organs as her brain was fried. She was dead before she even hit the ground.

JD lowered his paw. He strode towards the device that the woman had been guarding, his movements not making a sound. A simple press of a button and the stabiliser rings stopped their rotating, yellow light fading. They slipped down to the base of the device, seemingly shrinking back into the machine as its effect faded.

The assassin turned towards the trio of students, freezing them with his piercing stare. For a second, Skye feared that JD would kill them to keep his secret. When the red, blood-covered wolf vanished, his heart stopped.

Then he heard the door behind them creak open.

He turned to find JD making his exit.

“Wait, JD!” he exclaimed.

Jack Denver Clarke stopped but didn’t say a word.

Suddenly lost for words, Skye stumbled. Wood filled in for him.

“Why did you do all this if you knew you would likely be exposed?” asked the Draconis. “You knew that no matter what happened, someone would figure out who you were and this charade of you being everyone’s punching bag would be over.” Wood waited for an answer but when none came, he just said, “Why?”

JD’s intense eyes were still cast on the ground. “Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean that you should. The question is whether you could live with yourself if you did nothing knowing that you could have.”

He lifted his gaze towards them and Skye braced himself for that piercing stare that seemed to be able to stare into his soul. Instead, there was a soft, sorrowful look with a gentle smile.

“For what it’s worth, thanks for coming up here. You didn’t have to but I’m glad you did.”

Silver Sniper (Alex)

Not a Date

Neither of them spoke on the drive back home. By the time Alex and Rayne had arrived back at Pinnacle, the damage was already done. JD had done what Alex knew he would do; he saved everyone. It was what he did when they were both in The Dead Tails. As the Silver Sniper, Alex was usually in the back picking off targets while his son was on the front lines slaughtering anyone that endangered the mission. That gave Alex a prime view of his son’s valour and keen understanding of the mortal psyche. Often at a cost to himself, his son would go out of his way to ensure that others were safe. He was The Dead Tails’ crimson guardian angel, often appearing behind a foe to save any of the other members from danger.

And now… all of Pinnacle knew that he was the vicious assassin that was considered the most feared of the mysterious Squad 47. As Alex was leaving the grounds after JD had showered in the gym, he had been pulled aside by the principal of the high school grades and asked for a personal meeting before JD returned to school.

That would likely not be a pleasant meeting.

When they arrived back at their home in Eternity Creek, JD hung back as he always did, just three steps behind his father. Even now, Alex knew he could trust his son with his back. They stepped through their door and only then did Alex deign to speak.

“Spaghetti and meatballs tonight?”

“Sure, dad. Sounds great.”

His son just moved – quietly as ever – to the back of the house.

Alex knew what would come next. He would start cooking, pushing aside the problems of the world outside this house back at least for one night before they would come haunting him again in the morning. Just like his father, JD would go into denial and play his favourite pop-song from Celine Du’Lyon loudly until he would be taken away by the lyrics and start singing along. They’d probably end up singing karaoke well into the night with Alex drinking beer in between and JD swinging his tail – being way more into the songs than he should be.

It had happened far too often especially when the war had initially ended.

But something unexpected happened as Alex began chopping up some tomatoes for a fresh red sauce.

The problems of the world came knocking at his door.

Curious, Alex washed his paws of the tomato juice and moved to the front door. He opened it just as JD started singing to Go On My Heart. The sight that met him gave him pause.

“Hello, Mr. Clarke,” said Wood Bladebreaker, wearing a forced grin and a very expensive tuxedo. “You probably don’t know me –”

“Wood Bladebreaker,” Alex said. “The kid who threw a fireball in my son’s face.” He crossed his arms, making sure to look as big as possible offer as little space through the door as possible. “What can I do for you? I thought you’d be in therapy like a lot of the other kids that were traumatised by today’s events.”

“I’m made of stronger stuff than that,” answered the Draconis defensively. Folding his ears back, Wood added, “Sir.”

“Alright. What do you want?” He looked down at the bouquet of red roses and box of chocolates wrapped in a delicate pink bow in the dragon’s hands. “And why do you look like you’re about to go to prom?”

“Uh…” Wood gulped loudly. “I… I came here to apologise.”

Given the way you look, kiddo, I’d have thought you came here to fuck me.

Alex lifted an eyebrow as he examined the well-built dragon.

Though on a personal note: not bad.

“Apologise,” Alex stated bluntly.

“Yeah… See… I’ve treated your son really badly over the past six months.”

Oh I see what this is.

“This is the ‘please don’t kill me in my sleep’ play, isn’t it?” Alex said.

Wood jolted in surprise; one of his perfectly styled strands of blonde hair fell out of place. “I beg your pardon?”

He gave the dragon a tired, exasperated look. “It’s happen before, kid. People see what JD is capable of, learn that he’s the Red Lightning and they start pissing themselves every time they see him. Macho men become whiny women. Bitchy women turn into needy puppies that suddenly find him attractive. Kids start pointing.” Alex sighed and ran a paw down his face. “I honestly didn’t think this would start until at least tomorrow… How’d you get my address anyway?”

“I… Uhm…” Wood shook his head. “This has happened before?”

“The Fall of Haven ended two years ago officially. JD hung up his Red Lightning hat then. But it still haunts him. Something always happens that makes him use his abilities and training because he has to help someone even if it jeopardises his identity. First we tried a private school. He rescued a student’s kid sister from being killed. Then we tried military school. During the break, some of his classmates got drunk at a bar and he had to fight to defend them. Now this.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Never thought an international band of assassins would come to the academy and try to kidnap one of the guest lecturers but there you go.” He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Look kid, JD isn’t the type to go around threatening people and killing them while they sleep. So I’m sure he appreciates the gesture but if you really want to stay on his good side, you’ll give us this night to ourselves and then you can go worshiping the ground he walks on tomorrow. He needs a rest.”

The senior Clarke turned and began to close the door. He suddenly found resistance. Wood was holding back the door with his foot.

“No,” said the Draconis firmly. “This isn’t about him assassinating me in my sleep. Honestly, if he were to do that, I wouldn’t blame him. I disrespected him. I picked on him because of his perceived ‘disability’ and no other reason. Even if I didn’t know that he was the Red Lightning, I shouldn’t have treated him like that.” There was genuine sorrow in the well-dressed green dragon’s eyes. “I genuinely want to apologise.”

As a master illusionist, Alex knew full well how to read other people’s emotions and there was no deception or ulterior motives behind Wood’s words. The kid genuinely wanted to make amends to his son. This was a surprise. After having to transfer schools two times already, this was something he was not expecting.

“I see.” Alex pulled open the door once again and this time, he stepped aside to let Wood in. “Alright, come in. But if you’re going to apologise, don’t look like you’re going to ask my son out on a damn date.” He snatched the roses and chocolates from the dragon. “I mean, come on. You look like you’ve seen too many vids. And for future reference, JD prefers anything gummy. He hates chocolates.”

Alex cupped one paw around his muzzle. “JD! You’ve got a guest!” Unfortunately, the music coming from the room was too loud for his son to hear him. The walls were still sound-proof mostly, however. There was one word, though, that he knew his son would hear regardless of how dense the walls were. “Dinner!” he cried.

Like magic, JD’s door sprang open to reveal his son’s firm rear came springing out, swinging to the tune of Go On My Heart. Wood stood beside Alex in utter shock as JD, wearing only a pair of black boxers, slid across the floorboards backwards, shaking his rear and singing happily to the upbeat pop song from three years ago. JD’s eyes were closed as he was lost in the tune.

Alex ate one of the chocolates Wood brought as if they were popcorn to a show.

To his credit, Wood remained utterly silent – stunned – at two sights. The first was JD’s trim, fit form showing incredible rhythm and what was likely a scene that was in contrast to the ruthlessly efficient killing machine that he had seen just mere hours ago. The second were the multitude of scars that laced JD’s back like someone had given a pup a pink crayon and the Wulfun’s back as a canvas.

Then JD turned around in tune with the music.

And he saw Wood.

They stared at one another with JD looking like he was having one of those dreams where he was caught in his underwear in the middle of class. The situation was similar, though.

Alex couldn’t help but smirk as he ate a nice little almond truffle. His son reached over and plucked one of the roses from Wood’s bouquet. He then tossed it over his shoulder – back in the direction of his room. There was a crackle of electricity and his son zipped back after the rose, using Shukuchi to follow the plant’s trail. He caught it before it hit the ground just in front of his door. Then – still staring at Wood as if breaking eye contact would somehow make the situation worse – he sidestepped into his room.

WHAM!

Before slamming the door shut.

“What… what was that?” Wood asked.

“My son loves Celine Du’Lyon,” Alex answered with a snicker. “Whenever he’s had a rough day, he strips down to his underwear and blares his favourite song through the speakers on repeat. When he starts singing along, you know he’s mostly over whatever was bugging him.”

“Actually, I was referring to all those scars along his back. Did he get during the war?”

The honest concern in Wood’s voice once again caught Alex by surprise. “Ah… He got those near the beginning of the war. It’s why he can’t use magic.”

“I thought that was just a ploy to hide his identity as the Red Lightning.”

Alex shook his head. “No. JD was caught by demons while I was out fighting them on another front. He was strung up and brutally tortured. They made him watch as they killed our friends and neighbours in front of him. Then, when it was his turn, they ripped his spine to shreds to the point where he couldn’t move his legs.”

“Modern medicine –”

“Helped but it couldn’t repair his ability to cast magic. His spine was just so severely damaged that while he could walk again, he could no longer channel magic.”

“But Shukuchi and the lightning…”

Alex gave the young dragon a smile and patted his cheek patronisingly. “You’ve got a lot of things to learn about the world if you think all ‘magic’ needs to go through the Illuminus Weizar, kiddo.” He beckoned for Wood to follow him and headed towards JD’s door. “Suffice to say that while my son could never again use magic, he became an expert in everything non-magical. He is an expert in manipulating pure Force and pure Spirit energy.”

He approached JD’s door and rapped his knuckles on the wooden frame. “JD, come on out son. We’re not laughing.”

“No,” answered his son in a sing-song voice.

“Come on, JD. Wood is here to apologise for all the times he’s been an ass to you.”

“Still no,” came the musical answer.

“He’s going to take you out to dinner.”

Wood flinched. “I am?” Alex gave him a piercing stare. “Oh… Uh… Yeah. And… erm… Laser Tag?”

Alex gave him an incredulous look. “What are you? Twelve?” he whispered.

“Oh… Not Laser Tag… A… movie?” To that, Alex nodded. “Yeah. Dinner and a movie. I mean, it’s the least I could do after how I’ve treated you these past few months.”

“Let me rephrase my answer,” answered JD. “Hell no.”

Alex sighed heavily. “JD, if you don’t go with Wood, I’m going to tell him about that time with kumquat.” It was Wood’s turn to give him an incredulous look. Alex waved him down. “What do you say?”

“Daaaad… Come on… Not that story…”

“Those are your choices, son.”

They heard a growl from the other side. It was another tactic of his. JD would stall for as long as possible and likely try to guilt Wood into giving up. The pup needed further prompting.

“So this one time during military school, there was a kumquat that –” Alex began.

The door suddenly sprang open and JD, still in his boxers appeared and said, “Give me a second.”

Then he shut the door.

“Wow that was –”

The door sprang open again and once again, JD was revealed, fully dressed now.

“Whoa,” Wood started. “That was quick.”

“I could take the full second if you wanted,” said the red wolf, hiking a thumb over his shoulder.

“No. Uh… That’s fine. Let’s go.”

Alex smiled and shooed the two out of the house. He watched them both get into Wood’s bright red, Tempest Spark – a sporty hovercar. They were off a second later, zooming into the night. That’s when Alex’s smile faded.

The big, red Wulfun immediately grabbed his jacket, charged into the garage and started his own hovercar. Without even thinking about it, he cast an illusion over the vehicle, rendering it invisible to all but the keenest observers and launched away from his house after his son.

It came as no surprise that Wood – coming from the rich blood – brought JD up to Strato-Haven. The motes were still very much alive even in the middle of the night. In stark comparison to the deep, dark groves of Geo-Haven, the skies were a light with flashing lights, floating advertisements and the fiery trails of other vehicles zooming here and there. Alex winced at the sight of a various screens – some as big as his entire house – flashing scenes from earlier in the day. There were images of a blood-covered JD striding through pestering media as they threw questions at him. Church-favouring media were already praising him as a hero and touting how he had the makings of a Paladin and the efficiency of an Inquisitor. Military-sanctioned media was far more conservative and veered away from JD’s heroics and questions the presence of the Fuocotan in the first place.

Scandal would likely haunt them for a while yet. He just dearly hoped that Wood knew what he was doing because if his son was dragged out into the public limelight now – and with a Bladebreaker no less – there would be no hiding from the media’s eye for at least a year or so.

He had to give the Draconis credit though. Wood brought them to one of the fancier but more private restaurants in Strato-Haven. Incognito was touted as a ‘media haven’ where the rich, popular and famous could just have a nice dinner away without any paparazzi spying on them. The all-black establishment was a stark contrast to the golds, whites and crystal-blues that dominated Havenese architecture.

Unique to Incognito was powerful magic and technology that prevented any sort of recording devices from being taken into the facility. There was always a throng of paparazzi hovering outside its barrier eager to snap a shot of whomever passed by but since the barrier was a whole mile wide, it was impossible to tell if someone was actually dining in or just flying through. Tight security robots and attentive serving staff patrolled the grounds of the vast grounds. Clear warnings at the entrances that said if anyone was caught disturbing the privacy or intending to breach the privacy of any of their guests, the staff had to eject the culprit from the premises painfully.

I’m going to have to be very careful about this, Alex mused.

Wood brought his car right up to the front of the restaurant. As he stepped out, instincts took over and he immediately moved to the other side of his car and opened the door. It occurred to him halfway through that he was opening the door for a male and not some chick he was probably going to bang. Of course, he was already committed and he opened the door fully with a shaky smile on his muzzle.

JD gave him a nervous look. “Wood… why are you looking at me like you’re about to eat my heart and devour my soul?”

The green dragon flinched. “What? How’d you get that?”

“You do realise that as a draconic creature you’ve got a muzzle full of teeth covered in armour-like scales, right? Any time you smile it’s like staring into the jaws of death shrouded by the unfathomable horrors of the abyss.” JD stepped out of the car, his bare feet touching the cool, sleek metal of the sidewalk. “Of course that could just be the fact that I’ve associated your smiling face with pain, agony and a smidge of sadism but I’m no therapist. Now Dr. Carlstein, he’s a therapist. He’s the one that unseated my long-buried fear of helplessness and made me more comfortable with sitting still and actually relaxing instead of constantly being on the move killing things.”

Naturally, the Draconis took a step back in shock. “W – what?”

“Oh yeah, back during the war I was constantly on the move,” JD said, absently waving a paw in his direction. “I was tortured by demons and lost all function in my legs not to mention the ability to cast magic. Spend about six months in intensive physical therapy. Cried myself to sleep every night. After that, I was so afraid of ever losing the ability to walk again that I was constantly on the move. Couldn’t even lie down and go to bed!” The laugh that came out of his muzzle was bright, cheerful and genuine. “The only time you could ever get me to go to sleep was to literally shoot me with a tranquiliser dart.”

“Actually…” Wood said, lifting a finger. “I was more referring to the fact that you’re laying all this heavy stuff on me. What’s with that?”

Clarke gave him a lopsided smile. “To allay this stupid feeling of guilt you’re bearing over your head.” JD patted his arm lightly. “This is the part of the story where you, thinking yourself to be the insensitive jerk, try and get to know me, learn more about me and in doing so, make up for all the fireballs you threw in my face.” He shrugged and moved towards the restaurant. “I’m going to skip past all the awkward fluff in between and just going to lay some good old exposition down so we can get to the point. Besides…” JD rubbed his paws together excitedly. “The lobster bisque here is really awesome! I don’t want to be talking to you while enjoying it.”

That almost sounded like an insult but Wood wasn’t too sure. “You’ve been here before?”

JD’s big ears perked up suddenly. “I can honestly say that I have never ever walked through the front doors of this fine establishment before.”

“Oh. Well then I think you’ll enjoy –” Then the dragon processed those words. He chose not to pursue the questioning and just paid the valet to take his hovercar away.

There was already a long line in the waiting room filled with celebrities and the upper-middle class of Strato-Haven. More than a few noticed how JD walked along the fine, plush, red carpet with his bare paws and turned their noses away in disgust. Wood ignored them all and actually relished the idea that he – Wood Bladebreaker – was in the company of someone that caused such revulsion in his peers. He strode right up the maître d and just gave his name. The eager Canonian immediately grabbed some menus and ushered both of them towards the back of the restaurant.

They were surrounded by bright, velvety curtains and plush seats. Every party was treated to their own booth that was surrounded by the curtains which could change colour to the tastes of said diners. Even the arrangements of the seats could morph and twist according to the fare they hoped to be served. As Wood passed one open, unoccupied booth, he noticed that instead of chairs, they had big cushions in Venterian style complete with a hookah. Of course ever table was perfectly sealed off and with the most powerful privacy-geared magic to prevent any secrets or intimate moments from getting out.

They were led to the Bladebreaker booth which was located at the far end of the restaurant at a corner for added security. Only two chairs waited for them with some ambient lighting from the enchanted candles. The moment Wood sat down, the curtains immediately flickered. Instead of the inky black that was their default setting, they mirrored a lush, verdant landscape out in the country with blue skies, gently drifting birds and rolling, green planes. Rose vines even began crawling down from the ceiling and blossoming.

JD gave Wood a curious look while the Draconis desperately made slicing gestures across his neck at the maître d.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you take your girls here,” said the Wulfun, casually perusing the menu.

Wood could only offer a shaky laugh. “Ah… heh. That obvious huh?”

“If the romantic landscape wasn’t enough, the roses were a definite clue. The pheromone-laden scented candle is overkill, though.” JD waved a paw towards the candle while still looking at the menu. The flames immediately flickered out.

“How’d you do that?” Wood asked, startled.

His guest bent one ear in his direction. “Hmmm?”

“How’d you put out that fire?”

JD’s blue eyes – soft and not at all intense like they had been earlier in the day – looked up at him. “It’s just fire, Wood.”

“No. It’s enchanted fire. You wouldn’t be able to put it out without magic or by physically touching it.” Wood nodded towards the candle. “How’d you put it out?”

“Same way I could do this.” JD flicked his ear again and this time, one of the four forks that were lain out beside him spun around completely.

“You can use magic!” exclaimed the Draconis. “You’re a Psychomancer!”

JD gave him the most patronising look that it made him feel like a child. “You’re adorable when you think you’ve got things figured out.” He turned back to the menu. “First thing you’ve got to know about me, Wood, I never lie. I may not willingly give up information but I won’t lie.” There was a distant look in his eyes. “Just a promise I made myself.”

“But how did you just do that if not by magic?”

“There’s a lot of ways to do things without using the Illuminus Weizar you know.” JD poked the menu. “I think I’ll have the crab cakes as an appetiser. Want to split them? They give eight of them but if I’m going to have the bisque, I don’t want too much seafood.”

Wood frowned at him. “Your dad told me the same thing. But the Illuminus Weizar is the language of all existence. It gives us command of everything in this world. With the Weizar, I could conjure up a storm cloud over your head and make it hail right here and now if I wanted.”

“But people got along without it for a long time before the Mother Goddess purportedly gave it to mortals,” said JD dismissively.

“How?”

Seemingly exasperated, the red Wulfun set down his menu and stared plainly at Wood. “Okay. You know the fundamentals of magic.” A statement, not a question. “Force and Spirit. The two sources of energy that powers the words of the Illuminus Weizar. Force is the measure of our physical strength. Spirit, our mental powers. Generally, people trying to use the Weizar will expend their Force energy first because it’s safer. You can always eat more, rest and rehydrate to restore your Force. Spirit is harder to restore – if at all – because it’s your personality, your memories, your soul. Still, it makes the spells of the Weizar even more powerful by comparison. The same amount of Force you apply to the same spell will be weaker than if you were to apply the same amount of Spirit.”

“I know all this,” Wood growled. “Just tell me how the hell you are able to move that fork without using the Weizar.”

“Not just the fork.”

Wood flinched when all ten pieces of cutlery around JD sprang up into the air and pointed ominously towards him – even the soup spoon.

“I can’t use the Illuminus Weizar, Wood. My spine was way too damaged for that. But I can still use the pure energies that would go into the Weizar to do other things. Make things levitate for instance.” He held up his paw and red lightning crackled between his fingers. “Stimulate the particles in the air to generate electricity. Other people all over the world have found ways to do fantastic things outside of the Illuminus Weizar. It just so happens that during the reign of the Church, it was all suppressed because the Church could control the populace easier if everyone believed that every spell cast was a gift from the Mother Goddess.”

That was a lesson that had been taught over and over in school though a little less harsh against the Church. The Generals didn’t use the Illuminus Weizar either because during the Fall of Haven, the invading demons often could thrust their foul energies into a spell and corrupt the cast. There were demon cultists who used their corrupted spells from the Weizar to do terrible things. The Generals refused to rely on the Weizar and won the war without it.

“You mentioned your spine was too damaged to use magic,” Wood said cautiously. “What has your spine got to do with it?”

JD shrugged absently and picked up the drinks menu. “You ever take Magical Anatomy?”

He had considered it once but memorising all those names for the various body parts and their function made his head spin. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve failed that the first day. I have enough time memorising the few spells I know. Memorising the body parts that the energy has to flow through to be able to cast those spells –” He cut himself off. “Ooooh…”

“Yeah.” JD cast his eyes down again. “When the doctors fixed my spine, they had to reorganise and reattached my nerves. Though they succeeded, magic won’t flow through them anymore.”

“But you can still regulate your own Force and Spirit energy, right?”

“Yeah. But never to the level of turning that energy into something like fire or ice.” He shrugged absently. “But I made do. If all I could ever do was to use the energies in their purest form, that’s what I’m going to do and I’m going to be the best at it.”

Wood found himself admiring his one-time bullying target. Jack Denver Clarke had undergone a traumatic experience, one that left him permanently crippled. But through it all, he made the best of the situation and became an expert in what he had.

“I guess it’s kind of like if you were rendered blind, right?” Wood offered. “Your other senses get stronger.”

JD agreed to that just as their waiter arrived. “Ah yes, we’ll just have the crab cakes to share, then for my soup I’ll start off with the lobster bisque. As a main, may I please have the tempura boat? For the dessert, I’ll go with the soufflé.”

Wood realised that he had been so engrossed in JD’s story that he had failed to look at the menu entirely. “Uh… I’ll have the same. Except the crab cakes.”

The waiter – stiff faced – gave them a smile, repeated the order before turning and leaving.

“Did I say something wrong?” JD asked.

Wood watched the waiter go up to the kitchen window and make the order. Even from where he sat through the small opening in the curtain, he could see the man’s lips twist in disgust at the crab cakes order. “You typically don’t ‘share’ food here,” he explained. “Remember, this place is pretty fancy. ‘Sharing’ food is considered something only the lower-middle class do.”

“Oh…” The Wullfun’s ears folded back. “Me and my dad always share our food. If we’re going somewhere fancy that has a set menu, he gets one, I get the other choice and then we just taste each other’s food. Hell, if we like the other’s meal, we just swap.”

“You and your dad are close huh?”

“Yeah.” JD’s ears perked up again. “Oh, speaking of which.” He glanced back towards Wood with an apologetic smile. “My dad is really overprotective of me ever since I was strung up, tortured and watched all my neighbours and friends slaughtered before my eyes. He’s probably going to do something crazy like disguise himself as our waiter and try to spy on us or something.”

At that very moment, Alex was just walking up to the table with a serving of crab cakes. Incognito’s defences were excellent but they hadn’t been good enough to stop JD from sneaking in that one time and swiping a meal for both of them when Alex was sick. So if one talented assassin could make it past the defences they weren’t good enough to deal with a Master Illusionist. Of course, because this was his own son he was trying to spy on, Alex had to deal with how well JD knew him. So even though he had the crab cakes, he immediately spun on his heel and walked back to the kitchen.

Got to try something else, he told himself.

“How’d you ever get away with fighting in the war?” Wood laughed softly. “I mean, if he’s as overprotective as you say, how’d he ever let you fight as the Red Lightning?”

JD shrugged absently. “Didn’t really have much choice. When my dad found me, our position was crawling with demons and we were well behind enemy lines. The field doctors could only do so much for me. I’m pretty sure if we had gotten to somewhere with better equipment, I’d be able to use magic again but we had about forty-million demons between us and the front lines. The medics did what they could and I could walk but I couldn’t do much else.”

He made a slicing motion downwards into his paw. “I told my dad that I wasn’t going to be carted around like some helpless pup. So I told him to give me a weapon and I’ll do what I could. He gave me a knife and left me with the medics while I underwent physical therapy in the middle of a warzone.”

Amazed by the story, Wood could only ask, “They couldn’t just get you out of there?”

JD shook his head. “We were so far from the front that there was no telling what was on fire and what wasn’t. Moving to any location ran the risk of just finding ourselves surrounded by demons again.” Their crab cakes arrived – large crispy, golden brown cakes shaped like crabs that scurried around the small bowl as if they were alive. “That’s how we became The Dead Tails. My dad and his team would go out raiding to bring back supplies to our base camp but he’s lose men over and over again. Eventually, there was only a handful of us left and we got close. Dad got tired of losing people and he committed to never leaving a man behind. By that time, I had been working with Rayne on my basic techniques and –”

“Whoa, wait,” Wood said, holding up his paws. “Rayne? Rayne Noam? Our Rayne Noam? He was in The Dead Tails?”

The red Wulfun bobbed his head from side to side. “Technically, no. Rayne was just my dad’s best friend. Dad pulled him from active duty to be my bodyguard and to help me recover. Sort of my jailor too. But I guess Rayne saw that I hated being cooped up in that place while everyone else was out fighting so he started teaching me a couple of things.”

“Really?” Wood picked up one of the cakes which immediately stopped moving when he touched it. “Like what?”

JD rolled his eyes. “Well both of them really care for me and I can’t fault them for that. Rayne told me that my dad would kill him if he ever saw me on the battlefield so I should practice at not being seen. That’s when I started my path on becoming an assassin.” He ate one of the crab cakes and chuckled softly. “Damn legs always tickle me on the way down.” He grinned at Wood who immediately dropped the smile he was bearing. “He taught me Shukuchi and how to focus my Force energy. Basically I learned rudimentary telekinesis. Can’t really do anything special like lifting a truck like most Psychomancers or anything but I’m pretty precise. I could unscrew a panel from about fifty feet away provided I can see it.”

Wood plucked another crab cake in the hopes that chewing with stop him from grinning like an idiot. He was feeling a little giddy since he was getting what felt like war stories from a veteran. Hard to think that this ‘veteran’ was two years younger than him. Speaking of which…

“Hang on… The war began five years ago. Just ended two years ago. So that means you were…?”

“Twelve when I was traumatised, scarred for life and turned into a bloodthirsty killing machine?” JD offered plainly. “Thirteen actually. The war broke out just a little after my birthday. Speaking of births, I’m actually a Gene-Baby. 90% genetically the same as my dad. In case you wanted more ammunition to throw in my face later.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Wood asked.

JD’s features became completely neutral again. “I can see this going in one of two ways. The first and most likely of them is that I quit Pinnacle, move somewhere else and quietly attend that school until the next disaster that causes me to reveal my abilities. Haven really has a lot of magically-charged troubles.” The Wulfun shook his head. “The other is that we pretend this never happened and you go right back to hating me for pretending that I’m useless and passing it off as me thinking I’m better than everyone else; that I didn’t need to prove myself to anyone else and I’m coasting on my experiences in the war.”

Wood reeled back incredulously just as their soup arrived. The creamy, orange soup was enchanted to have little ‘islands’ made out of fresh herbs and even little dolphins made out of the soup dancing about. “I would never do that!”

“Which is why I think the first option is more likely,” JD said. “But the paperwork won’t be done for a few weeks anyway so I figure in that time, you can tout that I’m really not that big of a deal just the first to act. What I did wasn’t so much an act of heroism but more like a psychotic breakdown. Or you can just call me crazy. Your choice.”

He regarded the Wulfun in front of him with a hurt expression. “You… You want me to go back to bullying you?”

“If you want to just go on and ignore me and treat me like a pariah, that’s perfectly fine. I’ll miss the fragments of social contact even if it was just through being made fun at but it’s best for everyone if I’m either hated or forgotten. No one will miss me if I were to disappear.”

It broke his heart that JD spoke at the social isolation with such flippancy. Had this brave Wulfun accepted his fate at being alone and hiding himself from the world?

“You told me that you never lie,” he said. “So why did you hide yourself, your true self, from everyone? Why not just tell everyone that – yes, you can’t use magic – but you can instantaneously teleport in front of anyone that moved and shoot lightning from your paws? You realise how popular that’d make you?” Before JD could reply, Wood continued. “You wouldn’t be the cripple who doesn’t deserve to be in Pinnacle because you can’t use magic! You’d be that awesome wolf that overcame his disabilities and could kick anyone’s ass that even looked at him wrong!”

“Wood, I – ”

“You realise how stupid you are by choosing this path?” Wood was halfway out of his seat. “Because you chose to hide yourself, people will ask why you decided to hide your abilities from everyone! You’ve given them the choice to think you considered yourself so good because you’re a goddamn hero of the war that you didn’t need to lower yourself to our level! They may not think it but the choice is there!” He slammed a fist into the table. Due to all the magical enchantments though, the sound didn’t make it past the closed curtains and none of their soup spilled. “We could have been friends!”

JD’s eyebrows lifted for a brief moment before he let out a soft laugh and looked towards the bowls in front of them. “Our soup is getting cold.”

Wood’s cheeks flushed and he sat back down. He dipped his spoon in the creamy broth and got up to the point of bringing it to his muzzle before speaking again. “Why are you so determined to be forgotten?”

“Part of being an assassin. Best if no one knows me.” JD sipped from his spoon, using his long, lupine tongue to lick his muzzle. “Why are you so suddenly interested in me?”

The Draconis set his spoon back down. “My dad died during the Fall_.”_

JD’s expression softened in shock. “I’m so sorry…”

“The idiot got himself killed ‘trying to be helpful’. Threw himself needlessly into danger without a gun or a weapon. Tried to be heroic when he had never lifted a sword in his life and the biggest spell he ever cast was to light my birthday candles.” Wood locked gazes with JD. “But I miss him every day. He was an idiot but he only wanted the best for us. Learning that you actually fought in the war and did something useful… hell, not just useful. You’re a goddamned legend… it just doesn’t seem fair.”

“What?”

“That my dad gets an entire square named after him, his name on a war memorial and I get to live in this lavished mansion while you stand there forgotten!”

The Wulfun’s soft expression soothed him slightly. “To my credit, I’m not dead.”

The little injection of humour made Wood chuckle. “Yeah, I suppose but you get my point.” He gestured towards the wolf across the table from him. “You’ve overcome adversity, turned your disability into an asset, saved countless lives… and no one knows you. The real you.”

JD bobbed his head from side to side. “You mean the psychotic red Wulfun that danced in the entrails of a dead assassin?”

“Now that was weird. Why did you do that?”

“Psychological warfare. Every second counts on the battlefield and if your enemy spends an entire second thinking to themselves ‘What the fuck is up with this guy?’ that’s an entire second you could be spending stabbing them in the face repeatedly. The Fuocotan thought they were dealing with just another student. They were caught off-guard when I stepped in.”

“It worked. For everyone.”

“Clearly.”

They finished their bisque and as the last drop was devoured, a waiter came by immediately to take it away and deposit their tempura boats in front of them. True to its name, before them sat a deep-fried boat made out bands of cucumber and sweet potato in a golden-brown batter cooked to perfection. It swam in a lake of tempura sauce with the little ‘oarsmen’ consisting entirely of battered prawns and the oars themselves being the carrots. Enchantments kept the tempura from being soaked and the boat from losing its integrity.

The meal was devoured with haste though Wood noticed how JD immediately went for the prawns and then looked a little forlornly at the discarded prawn tails. Not really sure why he was doing it, he plucked a prawn from his boat and deposited it on his guest’s.

“You don’t have to,” said JD.

“You didn’t have to hide your identity from the rest of the world but you did anyway.”

The Wulfun gave him a sour expression. “That’s going to haunt me, isn’t it?”

“On your gravestone it will say, ‘He didn’t have to die, like he didn’t have to lie, but he still made us cry.’.”

“Ten points for making it rhyme.”

A little snicker was shared. When they had both had enough of deep fried vegetables, the soufflé was brought it. The airy cakes were shaped like balloons and hovered in the air by about a foot. A sugar string was tied to the base of the balloon and wrapped around a block of fudge. They literally had to eat it out of the air.

Once their meal was done, Wood naturally paid and escorted JD back out to the car.

“So what do you feel like watching?” he asked, hopping into the driver’s seat.

“You still want to spend time with me after all the heavy, emotional baggage I’ve laid out before you?” JD laughed. “You must be as insane as I pretend to be.”

“I made a promise to your dad to take you out to dinner and a show. And if he’s watching us as you say he is, I should keep that promise.”

The trim, crimson Wulfun rolled his eyes. “Point taken.” He shrugged. “I’m honestly good with anything. Except horror. No horror flicks.”

He threw JD a mocking, shocked expression. “Wow, is the great Red Lightning squeamish of blockbuster horror films.”

“No. I’ll be laughing the whole way. Everything in vids these days is so unrealistic. Trust me. This comes from a guy whose nickname is referring to more than just the colour of his fur and the shade of crimson he generates his lightning. We’ll get kicked out of the theatre by just how loudly I’m laughing.”

Wood lost his mirth. “Huh… Noted.”

As they drove away, neither of them noticed that the valet that had handed Wood the keys had been keenly listening in on the conversation. Alex watched the red hovercar zoom away with his eyes narrowed.

“He does treat horror films like they’re romantic comedies… Carlstein said that’s a sign that he may be desensitised to violence but he wouldn’t stop crying at that superhero film where the protagonists dog died.” He leaned over the valet stand in front of the restaurant and peered behind the desk. The real valet sat crouched, gagged and tied out of sight with eyes wide at him. “You know the one? The one with Chris Walberg. He was a superhero but he accidentally killed his own dog during a big fight with a villain and that taught him responsibility?”

He glanced off to the side. “Wait… was it Chris Walberg or Chris Jackman? There’s too many hot actors named ‘Chris’ out there.”

Alex patted the table absently. “Anyway, I’m going to stalk my son some more. Thanks for being so understanding, Jerry!”

It was with some relief on Wood’s part that his favourite vid theatre was mostly empty that night. Being a school night and one that had just come after what was seen as an ‘act of terrorism’, recreational activities were generally put on the wayside in favour of paranoia, xenophobia and a few angry letters to officials. Every now and then, something would trigger such a panic. They were never related to any act of war or actual forms of terrorism, though. Just isolated incidents for one reason or another.

The downside, however, of the theatre being so sparsely populated was that there were very few decent vids on show.

“What do you feel like seeing?” he asked, peering up at the scrolling screens in front of the box office. Previews were playing for the movies they advertised right beneath the billboards.

“I’ve already seen Criminal Crisis,” JD said, pointing at the gritty action thriller. “But I’ve heard good things about Sonata of the Solstice.”

“Not in the mood for high fantasy,” Wood said with a shake of his head. Their eyes settled on the one other vid being played. “I don’t suppose you’d want to see For Winter’s Welcome, would you?”

“Isn’t that a romance?”

“Yeah…” He glanced towards JD with his awkward smile again. “Is it weird that two guys like us are going to go see what is effectively a chick-flick right after a terrorist attack?”

Wood had no doubt that this attempt by the Fuocotan to take Konseral Darmin was something related to Konseral’s charity. Probably some anti-internationalism lunatic trying to keep someone like Konseral from using Incendian supplies to support Haven – the traditional home of the Church of the Tower. He knew there were a lot of people all over the world who still bore a lot of resentment against the Church after having suppressed them for so long. Little wonder the Generals were so popular across all of Tower Thirteen.

“Nah,” JD answered with a shrug. “As far as I’m concerned, their target was Konseral. Not sure who would hire a bunch of international assassins to hit a charity worker of all people.” He grinned at Wood. “The way I see it, this is just two normal guys who are suddenly faced with the fragility of life and have decided to go see a movie about…” He turned towards the rolling billboards trying to read the synopsis. “… an emergency worker stuck manning a communications post during a particularly hard blizzard and coming into contact with another soul at a shelter who is similarly trapped. Though they are unable to be there for one another physically, their bond grows as they look forward to spring while they endure winter’s welcome.”

His feature soured. “Okay, even I think that’s unbearably cheesy. But…” He glanced towards Wood with a sigh. “… I’ve already seen the other vid and you don’t want to see the other one. So…”

The burly Draconis shrugged and padded over to the box office, JD right behind him. “Two for For Winter’s Welcome, please.”

They were handed two, silvery tickets and then allowed to head into the theatre itself. After having just had dinner, neither of them bought anything at the concession stand. They just headed right into the theatre itself and parked themselves right at the front row seats. Two or three other couples were within the vast, horseshoe shaped room. Within a few minutes, the vid began to start.

Their chairs faded into the environment and Wood was overcome with a sense of weightlessness. He could no longer see his own body. The blackness of the theatre became blanketed in a brilliant white of clouds as they were thrown through a tremendous blizzard. The opening credits flew by in big, blocky letters. Wood instinctively served away from them and accidentally bumped his wings into JD beside him.

“Ow! Hey!”

It was a little bizarre having the voice come out of nowhere. Having his own home theatre system, he often saw such vids alone or with friends. There was also usually a large enough space between them that he could stretch out his wings and not impede anyone else’s viewing experience. Too late did he realise the reason he brought girls to the theatre was because it was the exact opposite of his theatre system at home. Here, he was forced to be close, intimate and if the girl – or girls that one time Buster flaked – got scared, they would instinctively leap to him and he could hold them tightly like the big, macho man that he was.

“My bad,” Wood shakily chuckled. “Flying sequences always make me want to spread my own wings, you know?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Can’t you levitate with your Force powers or anything?”

“I tried. Once. In retrospect, my first attempt to fly shouldn’t have been from the roof but that’s why hindsight is a bitch.”

“You jumped off the roof to see if you could fly?”

“I had the theory right!” He could feel JD shuffled in embarrassment. “I just didn’t have the Force to back it up.”

“Do you now?”

“Nah. I’d basically need three times the amount of Force I can store for every foot I want of sustained flight. Gravity is the ultimate, force.”

A loud shush came from somewhere behind them and Wood lifted his hand in apology though no one could really see them through the fully immersive effects of the vid. The narrator began speaking, the voice seemingly coming from all around them. Though the camera only allowed them to see what the director wanted them to see, Wood could turn his head to the right or left and see what would not have been directly in front of him. Naturally, modern Havenese vid technology allowed for a full panoramic view of the scene in question. It was often one of the categories in the awards shows – Most Immersive Off-View Scenery. At times, the camera would have him zoom right up to the actor’s faces and he got the admire the statuesque features of the actors that the elite often rubbed shoulders with.

Then there was the ambient environment.

Currently, it was just approaching winter in the film so as the protagonist stepped outside of his home, Wood felt the adaptive environmental effects of the theatre kick in. When he shuffled his leg away from JD, he could actually feel the frost-covered grass beneath his boots. A cold wind blew and he could feel it against his cheeks or against the membranes of his wings. That little ray of sunshine that but through the dark clouds rested nicely against his lap.

He felt JD shift beside him.

Leaning towards the Wulfun, he whispered, “You okay?”

“My feet are just cold.”

He recalled those foul looks the other Incognito diners had been throwing at them. “Why do you go around barefoot anyway?”

“Part of that 10% of my genes that were randomised. Dad keeps joking I was given Ivorisun feet. I need custom-made footwear because my feet are just that big.”

Thinking of the elephant-based Ivori and their enormous stature made him recall all the times he had actually paid attention to JD’s feet. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth since he only really regarded the red Wulfun’s large feet whenever he was preparing a prank involving tripping up JD or getting him stuck somewhere. Though now that he was considering the Wulfun’s feet, he wondered what else that 10% genetic mutation contributed to… and if a certain other organ was proportionately sized.

“Doesn’t that…” Wood interrupted his thoughts with a cough as his thoughts drifted into the gutter. “… Doesn’t that get uncomfortable?”

“Nah. Easier to sneak around if I’m running around barefoot. Better grip on surfaces too.”

“Huh…”

The vid progressed into the winter stages and the protagonist had the power to his work abruptly cut off. This left the entire facility without heating and plunged it into the cold. Without even thinking, Wood instinctively spread his wing and draped it around JD, bringing the Wulfun closer to him to preserve warmth as the theatre itself mimicked the scene they were seeing. Only when he felt JD’s cheek brush up against his arm did he realise what he was doing.

He decided that there was nothing weird about this situation. The vid demanded that they keep warm.

Then the voice of the protagonist’s love interest came across.

“Hello? Is anyone there? My name is Wade Parks. I’m at the local shelter. We’ve got about a hundred people here and all the power to our heating is out. We’re down on our emergency generator. Can someone hear us?”

Wood went rigid. “Is… Is that a guy?”

“Huh,” JD muttered softly. “So it isn’t really a chick-flick after all. Unless the women in particular are into that sort of thing. Interesting.”

It became awkward again. Every part of Wood wanted to push JD away and run out of the theatre immediately but one – the one part that was most dominant over everything else, the proud part. He had made his move, he had committed to the film, he was not going to lose face just because the film was clearly homosexually oriented and he was here, cuddling with a Wulfun who was barely his friend.

“You’re okay with this?” Wood grunted, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

“Yeah. I’m cool. My dad’s gay. It’s why he had me. Wanted a kid but could never find the right guy to settle with. Honestly I don’t think he wants to find the right guy and is just content sleeping around.”

“Your dad sleeps around?”

He could feel JD’s sour expression even though he could not see it. “The walls at my place are sound proof for more reasons than to keep out my dad’s thunderous snores.”

Wood could not help but wonder just how much privacy he would get were he to find himself in JD’s room. He quickly shook his head free of that thought. Even though he had that one experimental session with Buster, he was most definitely not inclined towards men.

At least so he kept telling himself.

It was with some relief that the vid was geared more towards romance than anything overly explicit. The protagonist did eventually meet his lover once the blizzard was over and it ended on a sweet note that they would see go out on an official date. It still made Wood roll his eyes at just how sappy the ending was but as they got up to leave, he found himself being a little sentimental at the lack of JD’s body warmth next to him.

Once back out of the theatre, Wood checked the time on his sleek wristband. “Huh. It’s still pretty early. Anywhere you feeling like going?”

JD stretched, smiling brightly – a smile that Wood found could brightening up the evening. “I guess sitting in a theatre for three hours does tend to work up a bit of a hunger in me. Feel like going down to a good old fashioned Geo-Haven diner?”

“I’ve never been to one, honestly. What do they serve there?”

“Ridiculously oily burgers, sugary milkshakes that’ll clog your arteries and whipped cream with everything.”

Wood found himself beaming. “As appetising as that sounds, I’d like to wake up tomorrow not having gained a several pounds or in the hospital after a triple bypass. Besides, we’ve got school tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” There was a little tightness at the corners of JD’s eyes. “Yeah we do.”

As the two teenagers headed back to Wood’s car, Alex – positioned quietly at the box office – leered at them.

“Don’t think I didn’t see the moves you put on my son, Wood Bladebreaker,” he scowled softly.

Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned to greet a genuine employee of the theatre.

“You don’t work here, do you?”

Alex could only offer a sheepish grin before he immediately lashed out and seized the poor human’s face in his paws. An illusion was immediately cast to hide the entire affair. The man in his paw froze, eyes going blank and not truly seeing.

“I was never here,” he ordered calmly. “Tonight was a subpar night. Nothing special happened. You spent most of your night refreshing the news feed on your mDrive to check if there is anything new on the Pinnacle story. You did your job. Nothing else happened. Isn’t that right…” He tilted his head slightly to catch the man’s name tag. “… Bob… Urgh, humans have such dull names. First thing you’ll do when you become financially independent is change your name to something far more interesting and far less forgettable. Understood?”

Bob only nodded.

“Good. I’m going to leave now. You won’t move again for ten seconds after I leave.”

With that, Alex let go of his victim’s face and immediately leapt over the counter. He was gone and out of the theatre before his illusion wore off. Bob went back to manning the counter. A moment later, he was back in his how hovercar and zooming back down to Geo-Haven. The distraction with Bob had lost him some valuable time and though he was sure he knew where JD was guiding Wood, he had no doubt the Draconis’ intentions were… pure, at the very least.

Helps that he’s a total closet case. Though I do wonder if he’s a top or bottom… Heavens knows seeing that muscly stud bent over for my son would be incredibly hot…

Huh… since JD is 90% me, I wonder if that means I’m fucking him by proxy…

Alex let the lewd thoughts carry him back to Geo-Haven and back to his home. It was with some relief that he realised he had left dinner unfinished and that his stomach was now growling at him ferociously. With a whimper, he was already considering what to order in when Wood’s hovercar came zooming down.

He immediately dove for the nearest window and peeked in on the two approaching the front door.

“So you’re actually okay with chocolate?” Wood asked, striding up the winding red brick path to the Clarke’s front door.

“In case you didn’t notice, Wood,” answered JD coolly, “the soufflé we had today was chocolate and I drank half of that chocolate milkshake you ordered.”

“That damn thing was as tall as my arm and twice as big!”

“I told you they make things bigger here in Geo-Haven.”

“And cover everything in cream.” Wood held back a burp and even politely turned his head in case it got out. “Mother Goddess, how do you stay so fit if you have that to eat all day?”

JD snickered as he padded up to the door. “Because I opted out of the usual Combat Class routine, I work out with Rayne after school.” The red Wulfun cracked his neck loudly. “He hasn’t forgiven me for breaking the audio system in the gym.”

The burly, blonde Draconis stared at JD incredulously. “That was you!?”

“Rayne challenged me to sneak up to him and he had the whole place monitored. So the best I could do was stun him. Jammed the audio system to max volume, purposefully tripped one of his alarms so the thing yells right in his ear and then boom! I win.”

Wood laughed heartily. “Damn… You really can find very creative ways to stab people in the back, huh?”

JD shrugged. “It’s a gift.” He glanced towards the door behind him then back at Wood. “Well, thanks for a pleasant evening, Wood. It was one hell of an apology.”

The dragon gave him a smile back. “You’re welcome. And thanks for convincing me to go to that diner after all. You learn something new every day.”

Then his smile froze and his mind locked up. Instincts told him to go in for the kiss. The way JD’s eyebrows were slightly raised and his body was turned partially towards the door, it screamed ‘come hither’. But Wood was locked up. He wasn’t gay. Even Alex, who was spying from the window just a couple of feet to their left, could feel the awkwardness in the air.

“Okay, I’m going to cut right through this cliché really quickly because I really need to pee.” JD hiked a thumb over his shoulder before holding out his paw. “Let’s just end the night on a crisp bro-shake. What do you say?”

Wood released the breath he was holding. “Yeah. So hand grab, three pats on the back and then fist bump?”

“Those are agreeable terms.”

So they proceeded to grip one another’s hands and pulled each other into a hug. With their other hands, they gave each other three sharp pats on the back. But just as they were pulling away for the fist-bump, their gazes locked. Their muzzles, just an inch from one another were pulled by the ineffable gravity of the power accumulated over the past few hours. Whether they knew what they were doing or not, their lips met, muzzled twisting to the side to allow easier access for their tongues into the combined tunnel.

That was too much for Alex.

Oh heeeeeeell no.

He immediately pushed the window open and let out a sharp, cheerful squeal.

Both JD and Wood wrenched themselves from one another.

“Oh-EM-GEE!” Alex cried, doing his best to sound high-pitched and girly. “My son. Dating the heir to a rich weapons manufacturer. Good Goddess, I couldn’t be more proud.”

“Mr. Clarke! It’s not what you think!” Wood immediately shoved JD back but obviously didn’t regulate his strength. JD tumbled back and disappeared through the door in a wash of green particles. “Oh shit! JD, are you okay?”

Thankfully, JD had faster reflexes than that and though he couldn’t fully counter the inertia from the much bigger dragon’s push, he was able to quickly turn the momentum into a tight somersault and land on in a crouch a few feet from the door. “I’m good!”

Alex turned his attention back to Wood. “So why don’t you come in and spend the night?” he insisted. “Wait, JD’s bed is a single and can’t fit you both.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh! Use by bed! Don’t worry, it’s clean. I haven’t had a guy over two weeks and we’ve cleaned the sheets since then.”

The Bladebreaker heir grimaced at the though. “Uh…”

“Are you a top or a bottom because you’d be the first person that my son would be with sexually. At least as far as I know. Then again, you probably wouldn’t be able to take his meat. I mean, I’m pretty sure if he didn’t have a sheath, he wouldn’t be able to walk!”

Wood inclined his head to the side. “Wait… Really?”

JD suddenly pounced and swiped at Alex, a frying pan in his paws. Strangely, the pan passed right through Alex’s form.

“Goddamnit, Dad!”

Knowing full well that his son would try to attack him, Alex purposefully cast an illusion to render himself invisible while his doppelganger continued to accost Wood.

“Oh! Oh! What size condom do you wear? I’ve got everything from small, medium, large, horse and monolithic. I’ve even got one of those size-changing ones if you want to use some magic in the bedroom.”

“They have those?” Wood asked, genuinely curious. Then he shook his head. “Gah! I mean, uh…”

“And lube! You’ll need lube. I’ve only got two kinds though. Strawberry flavoured and odourless.”

JD suddenly emerged from the doorway again but this time, he had something in his paw. Turning towards the illusion, he held it up.

It was a kumquat.

“Gentlemen,” he said with eerie calmness though his eyes were afire with fury, “this performance piece is called, ‘A Gentle Reminder’.”

He crushed the kumquat. All its juices squirting out in all directions and dripping down between his fingers.

Alex paled and gave Wood a cheery grin. “Nice meeting you, Wood. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He immediately dismissed that illusion and dropped the cloaking one that kept him invisible. If JD had to hunt him down, he realised he likely wouldn’t get to sleep at all that night and he would have to deal with the fallout of the Fuocotan assault tomorrow. Every wink of sleep would be necessary to deal with the other Generals.

His father vanquished, JD turned towards Wood with resigned sigh. “Sorry for that. Dad is… weird.”

“You get your crazy from him?” Wood offered, mirroring a gentle laugh.

“I get my crazy from early childhood trauma and a horrific war. Therapy helps though.” He returned the dragon’s gentle smile. “Anyway, thanks again for an… interesting night. See you around.”

“See you tomorrow,” Wood affirmed.

Those words made JD’s heart skip a beat. “Yeah… I guess I will.”

He turned away from Wood and stepped back into the house. Alex was standing a short distance away looking to him sheepishly. JD just sighed and tossed him the little brown bag he had been carrying.

“Knowing that you were spying on us all night and likely hadn’t had dinner, I got you something from your favourite diner.”

Alex peered into the bag. “Pizza bagels and potato skins from D-Inner? Thanks, son!” The bigger Wulfun regarded his son apologetically. “I was just trying to look out for you, JD.”

“I know dad.” The stoic Red Lightning strode past him and towards his own bedroom. “No harm done.”

“Really? I didn’t ruin your chances of getting any tonight?”

JD stopped at his room door and gave his father an exasperated stare. “Dad, I’m still under age. It would never have happened. Besides, with you in the same house we would never have gotten our clothes off before you started being weird and asking if you can take pictures.”

The sad thing was, Alex knew that was true.