Difference between revisions of "Not the Hero"

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(Added Chapter 8)
(Formated Chapter 12 - Epilogue)
 
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Norman stood like an ancient stone gargoyle in the littered alley contemplating the nuances of alliances. The early morning brought a brisk cool breeze to Kings Row blowing his cape, gently wrapping it around his legs. Sweat still trickled from underneath his gleaming red visor helm and pooled above his upper lip. He licked the salty liquid before it evaporated and remained motionless. If anyone had noticed the figure in the dark morning, they would have thought him to be a statue left there by city builder’s decades ago. For him, the wait was a matter of discipline. The wait was an exercise in patience. Patience, discipline, and loyalty were qualities worth more than their weight in gold, for undying loyalty to the cause was the apex of faith. Above all else, he relished control. Control over his environment, control over his powers, and control over his destiny. There were few super-powered individuals not able to survive the use of their own powers and it was his complete mastery of those abilities saving his life from one moment to the next.
 
Norman stood like an ancient stone gargoyle in the littered alley contemplating the nuances of alliances. The early morning brought a brisk cool breeze to Kings Row blowing his cape, gently wrapping it around his legs. Sweat still trickled from underneath his gleaming red visor helm and pooled above his upper lip. He licked the salty liquid before it evaporated and remained motionless. If anyone had noticed the figure in the dark morning, they would have thought him to be a statue left there by city builder’s decades ago. For him, the wait was a matter of discipline. The wait was an exercise in patience. Patience, discipline, and loyalty were qualities worth more than their weight in gold, for undying loyalty to the cause was the apex of faith. Above all else, he relished control. Control over his environment, control over his powers, and control over his destiny. There were few super-powered individuals not able to survive the use of their own powers and it was his complete mastery of those abilities saving his life from one moment to the next.
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He focused his science imbued gift forcing the creation of a ball of heat between his shoulder blades. The invisible globe shimmered in the morning disrupting the breeze and rolling down his back across his left leg. He maneuvered it back up the appendage with a mere thought and sent it down the right leg before he rolled it diagonally to his abdomen. It then went up his chest and paused at his head. There was no doubt the heat and thermo sensors of those searching for him would find him easily in time, but their mild diversion would irritate him costing them their lives. He would not show his anger, for such a display would not be in control and was very unbecoming for his rank and status. His thoughts drifted to her, if he were to ever lose control it would be for her.
 
He focused his science imbued gift forcing the creation of a ball of heat between his shoulder blades. The invisible globe shimmered in the morning disrupting the breeze and rolling down his back across his left leg. He maneuvered it back up the appendage with a mere thought and sent it down the right leg before he rolled it diagonally to his abdomen. It then went up his chest and paused at his head. There was no doubt the heat and thermo sensors of those searching for him would find him easily in time, but their mild diversion would irritate him costing them their lives. He would not show his anger, for such a display would not be in control and was very unbecoming for his rank and status. His thoughts drifted to her, if he were to ever lose control it would be for her.
  
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{{NPC Text|title={{center|1=<span style="font-size:18px;">Chapter 9</span>}}|text=
 
{{NPC Text|title={{center|1=<span style="font-size:18px;">Chapter 9</span>}}|text=
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Chapter 9
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Norman held his ground lost in fury, although the black inky mist surrounding the Envoy and holding him in place made it easy. He was not afraid to die now that he had professed his feeling to the one he loved. A love she probably could never return. With Occam out of the fight, the demon’s wrath fell totally upon the Protector, like the ferocity of fire. The flames danced off him in its frenzied feast and devoured the surrounding air. Light and heat poured into the cavern, the world rotated on the singular battle. Norman’s fire tried to feed upon the beast of hell only to join with it. Those nearby were consumed by thousands of tongues.
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The Envoy battered the Protector with claw attacks and kicks. Norman blocked what he could and kept a defiant all-knowing smile behind blazing green eyes.
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“Bring it on Beast! You’re a candle compared to my fury.”
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“Your death shall be the first soul to feed my new Master,” the Envoy snarled his voice reverberating heavily of the stone walls. It stomped down with its leg, thick like a tree trunk, and squashed the irritating human to the ground.
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Both Thauma and Brian stiffened petrified at the statement they both heard. It was identical to one over three years ago. They dared to look on seeing the Rogue Isle Protector pinned underneath the Envoy’s leg. This was no illusion of the mind, but reality. A chain of events had restarted mimicking what happened to PhoenixHawk long ago. The beast drew back its arm as if to drive its clawed hand through the Protector burying it deep into the ground. Simultaneously, Thauma and Brian yelled out launching their last spells before the fatal plunge. Thauma threw out her arms firing dark bolts of energy only to have them bounce off the hell spawn. Brian cut a large path of synaptic energy, similar to Sara’s power in a wide arc stunning all of those between him and the Envoy. They Envoy unfettered struck out stopping short; mere inches, and released a large fireball instead engulfing the Protector.
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Norman laughed. The Envoy had him completely pinned to the floor unable to wiggle free, but he convinced the stupid beast he could handle any amount of flames it could throw at him. The first wave he focused and set out enveloping the duo.
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“Is that it?” Norman taunted. “I couldn’t even light Brian’s cigars with that fire.”
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Norman summoned all the heat he dared muster and created a stronger and bigger bonfire. He rotated the column around them ensuring he kept the hungry flames off his flesh. Any Nightcasters daring to remain near or still transfixed by Brian or Sara’s powers became enveloped in the flames and burned to death. The temperature rose twenty degrees within seconds and the deep cool cavern now lit up with bright orange and yellow flames.
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The Envoy chuckled and summoned to it the true fires of Hell.
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Control, Norman thought, I must maintain control. The idea of Thauma dying to this beast fed his fury and imparted upon him a degree of control over the inferno raging around him. Maybe, just maybe he could indeed burnout the Envoy.
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Occam felt a gust in the once calm air. It rushed from the surrounding passageways into the blazing melee and rose in plumes through cracks in the limestone roof to escape somewhere above. He could think of no plan that would allow them to kill either the Dark Lord or his new ally. They did have one chance and sensing Sara at the boundaries of conscious thought, he reached out.
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“Sara, please link the group.”
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Occam’s Mind heard the call and did so; the thoughts of Occam could now be heard in the minds of those present. She shuttered at the inertia building up so close to the magic portal. The frictions of two different planes of existence created a nearly infinite power source to those gifted to sense and use it. The energy called to her and the entity deep within, but she resisted for such an act would overwhelm her and release the Other.
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“We have one chance to stop the Dark Lord and Envoy,” Occam said. “We must work together and send them into the portal then close it. It is our only chance; they cannot be released upon your world together. All of our efforts must be concentrated on keeping them off balance.”
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All nodded, except Norman whose form was lost in the rotating whirlwind of fire and Brian who was contemplating leaving his friends again.
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The air grew hotter still and the fear Sara was using faded. Hovering above the fray near the alcove, she released everyone’s mind. She could still feel the Dark Lord struggling with the Other in her mind. The sudden loss of her fear attack and the sudden tearing of her mind as the Dark Lord was forced out panicked her. She reached for the power the portal offered and brushed against it sending forth a pulse of mental energy encompassing everyone’s psyche, but it was too much. Her pulse penetrated the minds of those on the other side of the magical gateway as well. Every fear and horror ever imagined flooded her mind causing her to gasp in shock. The Other reached out to envelop her, to protect her mind. She tried resisting, but the battle was already slipping away from her vision.
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“Help,” she gasped audibly and mentally to her confidant drawing his mind henceforth. She knew what must be done and was afraid at what may happen as a result. Sara also knew Occam was too proud to ask it of her.
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“Sara, stay with us. We cannot do this without you. Fight the urge focus your mind,” Occam answered.
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Tears pooled her eyes for she knew what was to come. “No. I can’t hold it back; you have to do this without me, and you know it. It’s the only way.”
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“I cannot ask it of you.”
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“You don’t have to.”
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There was a pause like the universe itself stopped waiting for the two to exchange goodbyes.
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“Will you catch me,” Sara asked sobbing.
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“I will always be here for you,” the large drake said eyes like the sun extinguishing with tears. He knew what price Sara might pay for her inner demons.
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“I lov-”
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The Other had arrived.
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Swimming contempt in the kinetic energies surrounding the portal it soaked the raw kinetic power in like a sponge. It was disgusted at the horrors revealed to Sara and would smote all sources of the evil. The living id enveloped her in a psychic shell protecting her from the harm and the images of malevolence they had brought.
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Sara felt her consciousness slip away until reality was just a pinpoint of light, like a distant star. Falling into herself, she focused harder than ever in an attempt to protect the minds of her ad hoc team. The Other was usually not forgiving and made no distinction between good and evil. It was also there in the darkness, alone and falling, she heard the voices of those from the other side, their secrets opening up to her. She shook in fear at what they were planning to do and what was to come. Reaching her thoughts out she tried to warn Occam, but the tiny thread of reality she held onto only allowed her to protect the minds of her team.
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With tremendous effort and pain, the swift Crey drake launched away from Thauma startling her. He leapt in the air, caught Sara’s falling limp body, and gently laid it upon the ground. He ignored his aches, for true loyalty, dedication, and love transcended all things. After he gently set her body on the ground, the Other struck.
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It bent reality to her will forcing everyone’s fears into existence. In a blinding flash, every human except most of those allied with Sara physically faced their deepest darkest fears. No one was spared save the Dark Lord and the Envoy. Their was one person in particular the Other did not spare, whose darkest secrets held true horror, the awfulness of guilt and betrayal. She could not let any darkness exist regardless of what Sara wanted. Brian’s suffering would finally end.
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Occam’s Bow displayed no surprise at the events. A singular action played throughout her mind and when the opportunity immediately presented itself, she acted. Thauma rushed over to Sara and Occam when they collapsed on the ground to offer more healing magic. Bow knew whatever kept the Dark Lord from intervening in the fight was now at an end. His purplish green form darkened against the column of fire. More Nightcasters closer to the Saurian god burst into flames from the heat, but the prehistoric god seemed unaffected. She reached for the enchanted arrow. An arrow forged from the greatest magicks of the elf world and blessed with the love and gift of life. She notched the blazing white arrow and delivered the gift to Earth with the wrath of the elven race. Although the power in the arrow was great, it would only maim the Dark Lord and not kill. It struck the ancient god directly through his right knee.
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The Dark Lord actually shrieked in pain and only those few not invaded by the Other covered their ears at the horrible cry. Paragon City shook above threatening to rezone the entire metropolitan area in the image of Faultline. The god crumpled to his left knee gripping the injured one.
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No one understood the venomous threats the Saurian hissed, but Bow and Occam.
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Thauma enveloped Sara and Occam in a magical force field. Sara still was breathing, but remained unconscious. She reached out to bubble Occam’s Bow when a stream of dark energy from the Dark Lord traveled through the force field and the female elf before exploding on the back wall of the cavern. Occam’s Bow lifeless body fell to the earth, dead before she hit the ground.
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“No!” Occam and Thauma cried in unison.
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Occam tried to get up but his wounded body resisted. He too should have been unconscious from the pain, but his dragon blood strengthened his determination. He rose unsteadily, but Thauma Guard rushed to the elf’s side.
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The tall ebony skinned mage knew immediately Occam’s Bow was dead, her body as limp as Aaron’s when he faced the Envoy and lost. Sweat trickled down her face, resulting from the intense heat of the firestorm raging near the center of the cavern next to the portal. It was like the sun had decided to rise from the very spot.
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“Now Thauma,” the Dark Lord proclaimed causing her to shiver in fear in knowledge such an evil being knew her name. “You will join your companion in Hell.”
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Occam tried to throw himself in the way of the dark blast shooting at Thauma. He was weaker than he realized and fell way short of her location. He could only watch helplessly when the dark energies discharged.
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The Other, absorbing all the kinetic energy available, appeared before Thauma in a shimmering bluish white light, her form resembling exactly Sara Starling. It would not allow it any more. The energies meant for Thauma dissipated around the Other.
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Through a pain filled haze, the Dark Lord saw the foolish child. He was angered at her defiance at not joining his cause. He knew the true power she wielded and desired her enlistment among his minions. Such a disciple with her power would feed his impotent strength by an order of magnitude. The young one obstinately refused.
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“I know what you are afraid of Dark Lord,” it said mocking him.
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“I fear nothing,” he growled vibrating the walls and floor of the cave.
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“Today all will witness your fear.”
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The shimmering white image of Sara raised an out stretched hand. “Hail the return of the Dragons.”
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No one ever could have guessed what the look of shock and surprise looked like on the ancient Saurian god. One would have thought the gods feared nothing. They would have been wrong.
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To the humans three brilliant multicolored strobe lights appeared before the Dark Lord Ockham. He yelled in insolence for he and the drake only saw the true forms of dragons; they had returned from pre-history. They swarmed the Dark Lord like a hive of large angry hornets. The large lights buzzed and crackled with energy and the injured Dark Lord swung at them and released all the powers it could think of in an attempt to rid the Earth the zealous creatures.
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The Other turned toward Thauma and smiled before it too faded into the battle scene. The tall mage did not understand what she saw. She was sure Sara was now dead and it was her ghost that was striking back before traveling to the afterlife. Another team member had fallen and although she had not known Sara well, only meeting her on girl’s nights out, she felt a sudden sadness for her. Her death was what waited them all.
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“Brian,” Thauma said turning toward her once apprentice. He stood staring ahead with that thousand-yard stare she had seen before. “Brian you’re our last hope to warn the city. Azuria must be told of the Dark Lord’s plans.”
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Brian turned toward her and blankly looked at his mentor and sister. He vaguely heard Thauma. Sweat trickled down his face and he stared passed the multitude of battles, the dragons attacking the dark lord, and the fiery tornado that enveloped Norman and the Envoy. Near the portal Aura Mattson stood smiling and it burned his soul. Behind her the image of Aaron stood, his brown eyes forever extinguished from their green light of life. She beckoned him closer, but he could not move, locked in place by Aaron’s frown. He wanted to run and leave the world behind. Her calls to him increased and she began getting angry. Brian backed up slowly; they were going to haunt him forever unless he acted now.
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Norman felt the fire licking the hairs of his face and dancing among the cracks of his breastplate. He sweated in the blaze and felt the ground beneath him softening and liquefying. He tried to keep the fire off his skin, but failed his hair burning off. He needed to burn hotter if the group were to have a chance to send the Envoy back through the portal. A ground of molten stone would allow that to happen. He reached deeper inside, farther than he ever thought possible and summoned the greatest heat imaginable. Even in the uncontrollable fiery whirlwind, he knew it was not going to be enough. His thoughts drifted to Thauma, he could not fail her. He wanted her to live, and was ready to make the sacrifice. With what he thought was his first selfish act he gave in to his flames knowing from his flesh an even greater tremendous heat would be born.
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The Rogue Isle Protector took a deep breath sending the hellish flames down his throat and into his lungs where it devoured them. It feasted upon his flesh sparing not even his fireproof clothes. It gnawed on the weak spots of his uniform creating holes and even managed to melt parts of his breastplate. Norman lost track of Thauma during the melee and hoped he brought enough of a diversion so she could escape. Norman’s flesh melted off his bones feeding the bright beast but never satisfying its hunger. The bones cracked and sizzled like firewood before succumbing to ash... so passed Norman from this world to the next.
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The Envoy laughed deeply and let the fires of Hell subside showing the heroes who was still standing. The flames turned a hotter bluish white and further melted the stone around him.
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Thauma could only look on horrified at what transpired. She wished she never had to witness such an event again and would probably get her wish. The third member of their team had fallen. She collapsed near Sara and waited for her turn. She hoped it was not going to hurt, but seeing Aaron again would make up for the pain. She begged for Brian one last time to leave and warn Azuria.
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So Brian ran.
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Maybe he should have thought it through first, because he found himself running from Thauma and Occam enacting the traveling spells contained in his boots. He heard Thauma cry out to him, but he was already half way to the Envoy and the Dark Lord. Facing the ones he killed he realized his fear was irrelevant. He remembered a stray phrase that said courage is how you act when frightened. In a brilliant streak, he raced toward the Dark Lord and his Envoy. He faced his fears refusing to back down to them. He was almost at the portal when he finalized his plan. He realized Aaron and Aura were offering him his redemption and a price paid in full for their murders.
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The Envoy scarcely saw the streak of yellow from within the bluish white flames and barely managed to swing its flame sword at the new combatant. Brian’s destination was not them but the gate behind them next to the one he murdered. He leapt up, assisted by his special made boots, over the otherworldly creatures, and cast the spell he planned to use to raze the city of Oranbega. The spell could destroy a building with ease and required months of verbal practicing to speak it correctly. He knew the spell forwards and backwards. He chose backwards. With the telekinetic spell reversed, it would draw his targets to him instead of pushing them away.
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The words rolled effortlessly from his lips and he even chose his anchor wisely. Brian dropped though the portal managing to snag the Dark Lord, the Envoy and even some Nightcasters in the field of effect.
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The humans tried to stop their descent but could not and were easily pulled through the portal. The Envoy leaned forward resisting the spell, but the molten earth only caused him slide backwards dragged into the gate scratching deeply grooved claw marks the entire way. The Saurian god fought the hardest with one good knee and a trio of Dragons assaulting him.
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“Thauma,” Occam growled realizing victory was at hand, “Hit the Dark Lord.”
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Thauma was in shock after witnessing Brian’s actions. She was dazed at losing yet another team member. She had been waiting to die and Occam’s remark was almost lost to her. Only when the Envoy slid into the portal did she even comprehend what had transpired.
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She stood up with all the hurt from loss, suffering, and loneliness. Her magic summoned the most powerful force field she had ever, or may ever create, and flung it with the power of a woman scorned at the Dark Lord knocking him completely off balance into the air. Brian’s telekinetic spell instantly sucked the Saurian into the magical gateway bridging the two dimensions.
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“We must close the portal,” Occam shouted through the continuing battles of fear that raged around them. About half the remaining Nightcasters had fallen to their own fears and the drake worried that the Other would attack them once they were gone.
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“How do we do that?” Thauma asked helping the drake to his feet.
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In response, the portal shuddered and exploded, the ground itself ripping apart. They had their answer, the portal was now closed and neither knew exactly why.
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}}
 
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{{NPC Text|title={{center|1=<span style="font-size:18px;">Chapter 10</span>}}|text=
 
{{NPC Text|title={{center|1=<span style="font-size:18px;">Chapter 10</span>}}|text=
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Chapter 10
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He stood naked in a small clearing surrounded by an overgrowth expanse of green trees. Not sure how long he had been standing there waiting, or for whatever he was waiting for, but he felt he must continue to be patient. Before him, in the warm morning air, was built a low white marbled altar with a fire pit carved in the center of the smooth surface. A cord of wood was stacked neatly among the burning embers feeding the small flames. The blackness of the curved depression indicated fires had been started and burnt on the altar for an untold number of years. A small black spider ran out from within the flames and scurried down the altar. He lost sight of it in the tall grass and thought the whole event seemed rather odd.
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He gazed upwards at the rising sun shielding his eyes with his left hand. The light felt warm against his skin and he felt idyllic. Something was missing though, he felt he had to be somewhere and meet someone, but time was running short. If he could even remember who he was maybe, he could figure out everything else.
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The small fire flared up briefly drawing his attention. He watched the blaze feeling a familiarity in the chaotic random patterns of the flames. He saw shadows dancing in among the flames a companion to the ballet. Looking deeper, he saw a female form shadowed in the darkness with a light spiky hair…
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A bright light burst from above encompassing the clearing blotting out the heavens and he was awed at its radiance. He fell to his knees prostrating himself before a god. He felt naked and ashamed and begged for forgiveness at his failure. He was not sure what he failed at, but then the light was suddenly just gone. He could not ever remember swearing a belief in a god before and pondering the situation. Someone to his right gripped his arm.
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“It’s okay,” a gentle voice said helping him back to his feet.
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The man who could not remember his name glanced at her.  She had deep red hair sparkling blue eyes. Her smile was gentle and calming. Again, a tranquil feeling washed over him. All he could do was smile back at her. She wore a crimson robe open to the front revealing her nakedness for anyone willing to gaze at her.
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“Welcome Destined One,” a voice rang like chimes from his left.
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Another equally alluring beauty grabbed his other arm. Her hair more radiant then the sun and her blue eyes reflected the depths of the oceans. She smiled seductively at him and he actually blushed. She was dressed identically to the woman on his right.
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“Yes, welcome back,” came a male voice from in front of him. The trees parted from the clearing and out walked a dark haired man. He was dressed in a full crimson robe revealing nothing, but his was adorned with purple and gold stitching not like the simple affair, the women wore.
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“Back?” the man with no name said. “Where am I and who am I?”
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The man smiled a friendly smiled almost laughing at his plight of memory. He approached the altar and the flames reacted racing ever faster.
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“Yes Norman, back. It is with great pleasure that we meet you once again.”
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Norman brows furled. “Where am I?”
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“Inconsequential,” he responded glancing to the east.
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Norman followed his gaze and noticed the dark clouds gathering at the horizon approaching the eclectic group. The robed man frowned at the sight.
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“We must be quick about it then.”
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“Quick about what,” Norman asked.
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“You are the Destined One, born of Mu, blessed with the blood of dragons and yes, you were here once before when you died receiving their blood.”
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Something rang true in Norman’s mind. A key turned and the events of the last few minutes of his life thrust forward breaking the bonds of amnesia.
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“I don’t understand.”
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“No my child you do not. You have been so blessed to become the instrument of our revenge against our enemies that stretch back eons. We sent you back once before, but you were given a gift born of blood and amplified by the accursed dragons. You have it in you now to return whence you came.”
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Norman’s memory completely returned, but he could not remember being here before, although it did seem very familiar.
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“You are of dragon blood, an Assassin of the Gods. We will assist your return but you must remember this, our time for revenge is near. It is closer now than it ever was and it will be complete. Seek out Scirocco of Arachnos and he will instruct you in your heritage and you can claim true power. Believe not in false prophecies, because Lord Recluse is only a tool manipulated by us to reach our ends.”
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The dark haired man gestured to the woman to his right and she thrust a bird into his hand, she pulled from a green sack he had not noticed her holding before. He held the bird by its legs near its talons. It was twice the size of a pheasant and if it were not the maroon gold plumage with iridescent neck feathers, he would have thought it to be such. It batted its wings in an attempt to escape and he nearly let go. He held the large bird up when it tried to peck at his naked body.
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“You hold in your right hand a phoenix of legend,” the dark haired man continued.
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The blonde woman placed a dagger in his left hand and wrapped his fingers around the hilt. He looked down at the blade that seemed almost carved in stone, but the handle seemed made of silver with minor settings of various jewels.
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“In your left is a dagger carved from the petrified heart of a dragon.”
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Thunder rolled from the east and Norman watched lightning flash again, the storm grew closer still. He still had many questions, like what if he did not want to be an Assassin of the Gods, just thinking it sounded preposterous. He had studied what information he could about Occam’s Razar, which really answered very little. It seemed to him the title these unusual familiar strangers imposed on him were greatly exaggerating.
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“I don’t understand,” Norman said holding up the dagger and phoenix. “I died how I can return?” He could tell the dark haired man grew impatient, but breathe deeply to remain clam.
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“My son,” he forced a smile, “the legend of the phoenix has been… embellished a bit. The true phoenix, when it dies, is consumed by flames so it can be reborn from its own ashes. It is not impervious to fire, much like you. You have reached the pinnacle of your abilities this will become easier for you, even if you were not phoenix-born.”
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Norman stood surprised, telling the story that way seemed to make sense. Occam had said humankind forgot the true face of dragons seeing only what they became; maybe the phoenix legend was the same way.
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“Kill the phoenix, claim its life, and return to whence you came and avenge our kind once and for all.”
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The Rogue Isle Protector smiled back at the dark haired man. He understood now. Paying no more attention to the divinely beautiful women at his side, he held the phoenix out over the fire and cut of the birds head off with the knife. The blood from the phoenix fell upon the flame like gasoline and the fire rose up consuming the bird.
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“Do not let go,” the dark haired man said.
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The phoenix’s body responded violently almost tearing its headless burning corpse from his grasp. Norman tried to control the flame, but could not. The fire ran up his arm and immediately spread all over his body. He screamed from the pain, but held tight. Once again, the Protector was consumed by flames.
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The small band of green robed guides scoured the empty cavern; their bright glowing green eyes amplified the little light that existed. They found wooden crates filled with supplies and the scenes of a large battle.
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“Here are the remains of a summoning portal,” the leader said traversing the cooled molten ground. He recognized some of the portal etchings but apparently, an extreme heat had literally melted the stone. Large claw marks were forever etched in the floor from where the heated rock had melted.
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“Here,” one of the guides reported bringing a strange red metallic helmet to their circle leader. “I found it near the empty supply alcove over there.”
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The leader grasped the helmet and rotated it in his palms. The traitorous Nightcasters had been here and the fact they missed them ticked him off. What did make him happy was the dozens of bodies they found littered everywhere. It was though their true god had struck out in vengeance as payment for their heresy.
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“Do you think any escaped?” another member of the scout party asked.
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The leader shrugged. It did not matter; they were on the run and their numbers dwindling rapidly. History would soon forget the threat of Nightcasters and the Circle of Thorns would in time rule the world. He crouched to the cavern floor and dusted off a modern armored chest plate that appeared to have survived a great heat. Attempting to wipe off the charcoal and ash, he uncovered the dulled red image of a spider. He knew the symbol of Arachnos immediately, but did not know why was here. Further digging through the ashes, he found a partially burnt uniform and belt. The belt seemed almost untouched. He watched a small breeze catch some of the remains and twirl it into a small vortex. What he failed to realize was there was no breeze in the cavern.
 +
 +
Norman was reborn unto Earth in flesh and blood rising once again from his ashes. The four Circle of Thorn members did not scream because there was no time. The thunderous fiery explosion erupted filling the cave and Norman coalesced from the very heart of the flames and ash hovering in the middle the previously darkened cave. He gently lowered to the floor fully clothed in his Protector regalia. Although he looked like he had walked through a blast furnace, his breastplate melted in places, scorch marks, and holes pocked the spandex-like material.
 +
 +
He could not but help to feel his appendages to make sure everything was still with him. The memory of his afterlife was still clear in his mind. He did not know if he was the same person he used to be, but for the time being he would have to go along with this new self. Everything had changed, patience and time was required to decide on the best course of action.
 +
 +
Norman checked the contents of the metallic pouches on the inside his belt. The contents were still there and seemed to have survived the fiery combat. He rebooted his helmet and already twelve hours had passed from when he first revealed his true form to Thauma. Gripping Brian’s mediport device in his hands he headed back toward the surface. If he was fast, he could get a free ride from the Paragon City emergency system and still maintain the value of the device. He had a sneaky suspicion his true love had survived.
 +
  
 
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{{NPC Text|title={{center|1=<span style="font-size:18px;">Chapter 11</span>}}|text=
 
{{NPC Text|title={{center|1=<span style="font-size:18px;">Chapter 11</span>}}|text=
 +
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Chapter 11
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Thauma Guard walked wearily down the Chiron Medical Center in Atlas Park still wearing the clothes from the night before. She and Ginger Blaze had plans to go out the previous night until Norman arrived brining a contingent of Longbow with him. Now her attire gave one the impression she was employed by a chimney sweep company and had had a rough night.
 +
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Arriving alone at the elevators, she pressed the button for the third floor a bit more exhausted. She and some members of the Onami had spent the last couple of hours going through Brian’s apartment. Voltech ended up kicking her out, promising to take care of Brian’s personal belongings. Thauma had been at his place in Founder’s Falls and his Kings Row apartment was an indication of just how far he really had fallen. The signs seemed so evident with hindsight and she silently blamed herself for letting him hit rock bottom alone.
 +
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The elevator dinged on the third floor and opened up. Walking into Sara Starlings room brought back emotions. Occam stood like a sentinel holding Sara’s hand and his eyes still never lost the passion of the sun. His left arm was in a sling.
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“How is she?”
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“Unchanged,” Occam responded laying her hand down. “She is still in a coma. No brain activity.” He was worried about Thauma; his outside observations of the Onami Strike Force was telling him they were approaching a turning point. One that could cost more lives if not acted upon. “How are you?”
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“Okay,” the tall ebony women said. She curled up on one of the visitor’s chair, unable to fight off fatigue any longer. The events already over twelve hours ago seemed like a distant dream or somebody’s bad writing.
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“How are you holding up?”
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“I will survive. My friends at Paragon City University are already assisting the hospital staff in preparations to replace my arm. You should go rest, nothing more can be done.”
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From the fetal position, she eyed the big guy and sighed. Silently the loss of the others finally caught up to her. She wept years ago for Aaron, but with Brian, Norman, Bow, the feelings she buried for the best of Onami assaulted her. She fought back feeling like she was losing Aaron all over. She could not go through it again.
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“Is Brian still alive?” she asked.
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Occam thought a second before answering. He had seen the other side when he emerged upon the Envoy. It had not been another dimension that he was expecting. “I am not sure. It is possible, but I will not lie, the Dark Lord will be furious and so will the Envoy. No one person has ever escaped their wrath.”
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“You did, once.”
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Occam shook his head know to what she referring. “No, I sacrificed my life even then. I find myself blessed to once again able to offer that life for humankind.”
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“Why did he do it?” Thauma asked referring to Brian.
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“One can only run from their true self for so long. We saw that at the end.”
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“There had to be another way.”
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“Maybe, Brian had to figure it out himself.” Occam responded. He then realized she was not truly referring to Brian. “Thauma let him go, its okay.”
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“What?” she said sitting up from the blue recliner.
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“He would not want you to suffer as you do.”
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Emotions long buried erupted drowning Thauma. She gasped and her heart raced grasping what the drake meant. Brian’s sacrifice opened an old wound of loss, emptiness, and abandonment. She struggled for breath mouthing Aaron’s name silently. The half-dragon saw the truth even when she did not. She fought back tears refusing to suffer the torment once again.
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Occam stepped over to her to offer comfort and she got up and almost fell into his strong thick arms. Humans were so emotional to the drake a trait he shared far too easily with them.
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“I can't let him go.  Without him, I feel empty, like there's a hole in my heart.  If I could, I would gladly die too, to be with him again.”
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“No my child,” Occam said consoling her. “Face your loss and remember Aaron for his achievements in life, not for his absence in death. Brian would want the same.”
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He held on to her for a few minutes before the door to Sara’s room opened bringing the hero known as Stateside in.
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“Occam, I am glad you’re here,” the dark skinned man said. He wore the red, white, and blue uniform of Homeland Security. Under a new executive order signed by the President of the United States, Homeland Security was authorized to employ what ever means necessary to achieve their objectives. More specifically, they were authorized to deputize metahumans into a National Guard Order in defense of the security of the United States. Paragon City was the perfect place to start such a beta program. Individuals registered became official U.S. federal employees. Stateside was the first to enlist under the executive order and would help lay the foundation for a more formal organization that would follow. His use of the broadsword and advanced prototype body armor was guided by Occam’s Razar’s, by Stateside’s request. Occam even sponsored his petition to Thauma in order to join the Onami Strike Force. He was so dedicated to fighting crime he fought for the government by day, and at night, he fought for the Onami Strike Force.
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Thauma broke the comforting grip of Occam and went into the bathroom to compose herself.
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“What is the problem?” the drake asked.
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“I need to get you out of here,” Stateside responded blankly. “There is a warrant out for your arrest.”
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“Why?”
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“This morning Crey Industries filed lawsuit against Hero Corps for the falsification of your former membership records, and for theft and destruction of their property, among other charges. Paragon City University and your name also appear alongside the Hero Corps. Your Hero License has been suspended by the City pending the trial. I believe the University will be kicking you off campus, too.”
 +
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Occam was stunned. He had wondered if his association with the selfish organization of Hero Corps would come back to haunt him. Apparently, it had. He still had details to plan to return the elf known as Occam’s Bow to her homeland and this only complicated the matter. He would have taken down Crey Industries long ago if it was not for the fact the Countess and her minions partially ran legitimate businesses. They surrounded themselves with the innocent and did so by the thousands. If Crey fell, the innocent employees would suffer too. The challenge of taking on an organization like that was completely foreign to the drake. During his time, the differences between good and evil were more evident. When the dragons needed to wipe out evil, they just acted. Nowadays that was not always the best solution.
 +
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+++++
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The Rogue Isle Protector slipped out one of the hospitals windows before anyone could even respond to the false arrival of News Flash. It was already the evening of the next night. He must have waited in that clearing far longer than he thought. Using the gadgets of Arachnos, he was able to locate Occam and listen in on the conversation. When he heard his love, it took a great resolve to stop from rushing down there to proclaim his return from the dead. He dropped behind the hospital hidden by darkness. He had overheard the plans about how to get Occam out of the hospital, so he waited like a ghost in the darkness.
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A black limousine pulled behind the hospital near the entrance. Thauma and Stateside left first and the latter ran the fifty feet or so to the vehicle to hold the door open for her. Norman watched his true love and wanted to say something, but the words failed him. Occam opened the door to the hospital slightly peering into the darkness toward the limousine.
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“Drake,” Norman said from the darkness.
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Occam’s brow furrowed his dragon eyes piercing the darkness easily enough. He saw the Protector and hid his surprise, although he had sensed he would meet the man again. He left the hospital and sprinted to the corner of the building in two steps.
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“Occam,” Stateside said trying to move the drake along to the vehicle. He could not see whom the drake was speaking to.
 +
The drake waved him off, “Why am I not surprised to see you?”
 +
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“What’s it like to be a drake?”
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The question smacked the half-dragon squarely in the jaw. He then realized why, “Aaron’s blood is not the only DNA you were mutated with was it?”
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The Protector nodded.
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Occam knew something like this would come forth again. When Crey cloned him, such methods proved unavoidable. In time he was able to convert his clone to embrace his dragon heritage and serve humanity. He was now in places unknown fighting evil and searching for himself.
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“Come with me Norman,” Occam proclaimed offering his right hand. “Claim the true heritage of dragons and help me fight the evil in the world.”
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Norman tried not to laugh, but it just blurted out. What a outlandish thing to tell say, Norman thought. “You have got to be insane. It is ludicrous for you to think all drakes fought for humankind. I am sure some even helped the downfall of the dragons that made you the last drake.”
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Occam realized he had been premature. He had hoped Norman sought him out because the true path of dragons had opened up to him. This adaptation would take time.
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“Very well then,” Occam said turning toward the limousine. “What should I tell Thauma about your return from the dead?”
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The Protector was really ticked, his pulse rising to seventy-two. The audacity of that claim just floored him. He truly believed Lord Recluse held they key to a peaceful society. The world was just not ready or willing to make the leap of faith.
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“Tell Thauma whatever you want.”
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With no more words between the two, he leapt in to the air and into the night sky and the half-human watched him go. Thauma deserved the truth. He would have to watch her closely over the next few weeks. An idea came to him; maybe he could put her on the path of healing after all.
 +
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Norman, one of the few Rogue Isle Protectors, had a meeting with Scirocco to attend to anyway
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{{NPC Text|title={{center|1=<span style="font-size:18px;">Chapter 12: Epilogue</span>}}|text=
 
{{NPC Text|title={{center|1=<span style="font-size:18px;">Chapter 12: Epilogue</span>}}|text=
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Epilogue
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Brian plunged down the throat of the magical portal stretching beyond the limits of his spell. The gateway accelerated his descent and added strength to the pulling forces of the reversed telekinetic spell. He traversed the other opening and fell on his side. The portal on his world had been in the floor, this opening was vertical. He scrambled to his feet still feeling the universal tug of his enchantment. The strength was great enough it started to slide him back toward the gateway.
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Taking no time to look around, he enacted his traveling spells and attempted to run off only to be affixed in place. The tug of war between him and the beings of darkness had begun. Struggling to even take one step forward he felt the tow across the known planes creating an ever-growing friction between the two worlds. Despite all his might, he strained against the invisible gale force wind, only to slide backwards suddenly and draw closer to the portal. He could not let it pull him back into his world. To do so would unleash the horror of the Dark Lord and his new army solely upon the Earth. His vision wavered and he saw the image of Aura in her golden yellow hair only twenty feet from him. She smiled and beckoned him closer, but he slid right to the edge of the event horizon of the portal and stopped.
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A crescent flash of red leapt from the stone gateway and Brian’s body. Feeling stronger, he began to make his way toward the young girl he helped kill. He pulled as hard as he could his muscles straining, ripping from bone. Each step was harder than the previous yet he still persevered.
 +
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Aura begged for him to succeed.
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He felt the shift in energies and the power faded. He cut his traveling spells instantly and only rocketed about twenty yards before tripping. A handful of burnt Nightcasters tumbled through the gateway first, followed by the Envoy, and lastly the Dark Lord Ockham.
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They fell upon each other in a mass of bodies, arms, legs, and wings. Exhaustion tackled Brian sending him gasping for breath against the alien ground. He could not even stand. Looking for Aura, he noticed she had left him in the hell he deserved. Finally, her soul could rest; her murderer was paying the price.
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Brian suddenly realized he had to close the portal and do so immediately. A blue recovery aura emanated from his trench coat washing over him and he felt his endurance and strength returning to him, but it was not enough. He cast a failsafe spell allowing him to sacrifice the magicks in his new uniform to fuel another spell. He stood remembering he still held Thauma’s phone. After taking a deep breath, he again cast his long researched telekinetic spell. He mentally modified its shape creating a large focused blast aimed directly at the gate. The spell hit instantly pulverizing it into dust. Brian collapsed completely exhausted from the spell casting and from the shockwave that blasted into him.
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The Dark Lord and his Envoy were also tossed by the blast. Brian heard them growling strange guttural obscenities in their ancient language. They got back to their feet just as he looked up see the Saurian god pull an arrow from his right knee. In front of him, the Envoy actually stood and shook its head from the concussion wave.
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Brian stood, not knowing where he found the energy, maybe it was from the defiance he had learned from a certain blaster that had died sacrificing his life over three years ago. It did not matter anymore. From the inside pocket of his trench coat he removed a silver flask and finished his last meal. He tossed the metal container to the ground and snatched another cylindrical case from the inner pocket holding his cigar. It was an Arawak, a twenty-year-old aged cigar, which cost him two hundred dollars. He lit his last smoke using a simple spell producing flames in his palm. The cigar was so smooth and bold he could have drunk the aroma. Truly, it was befitting a dying man’s last request.
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 +
“Make him scream,” the Dark Lord growled to his Envoy still recovering from the painful knee injury. It would take years to fully heal.
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The Envoy focused its hate on the hero, radiating dark tendrils of corrupt magic. It summoned the most powerful flaming sword it could and rushed the insolent man.
 +
 +
News Flash activated the traveling spells remaining in his boots. Whatever magic lingered in them that had not been absorbed was guaranteed not to last. Brian clenched his cigar in his mouth and held Thauma’s phone out composing yet another award-winning photo. The Dark Lord was in the background and with the charging Envoy in the foreground. He captured the hate in the beast’s red blazing eyes perfectly.
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News Flash only had one last request.
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“Say cheese.”
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}}
 
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[[Category:Justice Universe Fiction]][[Category:UserOckham]]
 
[[Category:Justice Universe Fiction]][[Category:UserOckham]]

Latest revision as of 12:14, 30 June 2010

Not the Hero

A Novella of City of Heroes/City of Villains™ Fan Fiction by Anthony Harte

©2006