Asylum

Man of Many Faces

Ren Walker

Leo's been focusing on trying to nail the remaining shooters on the ground, but suddenly he stops and focuses on the man with the tattered glider. The flier is more agile and nimble than I expected. He uses jumps to soar over me, or massively step wide out of my fire's reach. It's as if he defies the laws of gravity. But sometimes, when I have him in my sights as he leaps in the air, he'll drop straight down, as if gravity is exacting its revenge. Leo doesn't shoot unless the man is far away from me, considering he doesn't want to miss and hit me instead. It's easy to see he's shaken up about killing the wind maker, but I'm glad he's hanging back now. I don't think any of us expected Leo to kill someone like that – defenseless, running to a friend, his back turned on us.

I know I wouldn't have shot him in the back. But then again, Leo harbored the anger towards the wind maker because he hurt Sarah. I remember how enraged I felt when I received the news that Kya had been captured. I wasn't exactly coolheaded, to put it nicely.

The glider man comes in range and I rip out my katana, the blade singing against its sheathe, the silver glinting in the occasional bursts of gunpowder, or the flashes of lightning overhead. The Sages lit the paper lanterns, hoping to provide some sight, and I'm glad they did so before the battle really began. They've stayed inside, safe.

Per usual, the man jumps out of range, soaring just out of my touch, as if taunting me. I'm growing impatient and he's growing tired. Who will cave first?

As my opponent leaps right over me, I peer upwards, keeping my eyes trained on him. Something gets in my eye, blurring my vision for a moment. His sweat? Some lint? Dirt from his shoes? Then it happens again, the tiny pinprick cold and light. Rain. It's so soft that it's trying to comfort me rather than haze my sight. I used to hate the rain and nighttime, being a child of the sun, but now it reminds me of Kya. Who isn't here.

Grinding my teeth together, I slash at the sky, blade running a wide arc, following my enemy. From channeled anger, a wave of flames emits from the blade itself, melting the very end of it but performing a fantastic display. The fire rides out for a few yards before fizzling out in the rain. But no matter how amazing it is, my weapon is shot. I could make a run into the dojo for a new one, but I don't want the antigravity freak following me in and endangering the Sages.

The only thing it's good for now is what I just learned I could do. As soon as the flier lands on the ground with a skittering halt, I brandish my blade, swinging it from left to right. Then predicting his next move; from head to toe. The pesky flier ends up doing exactly as I planned – dodging my first attack by soaring up, right into my second attack. The wall of fire eats at his side, catching on his clothing and singing his skin. However, the burning subsides quickly in the rain.

At this point, my sword is mutilated and bent. Tossing it aside, I resort to using my power. Seeing my lack of a weapon, the flier shoots to the observation deck ladder. I burn it down, hoping that the only way for the flier to get down is to jump and break something. Then, I back up, preparing to take the entire observation deck down with it. Crouching low, I kick my leg out, getting as much height as I can to insure I take down the glider. I know that sometime, Reaper, Cerberus, and my brother are going to be here, and I need to be present when that happens.

The fire eats away at the deck, voraciously chewing away at the mostly-dry planks. A darker part of me hopes it eats away at the flier with as much vigor. But not long before I'm on my feet, a dark figure highlighted by my flames jumps from the burning deck, an enormous wooden plank in his hands. His drop speed is unnaturally fast, as if he gained hundreds of pounds while he's been out of sight. Before I have time to react, he brings the plank crashing down on my cranium, knocking me to the ground.