Downfall

“We have to go, he’ll wake up from all this noise.” The unrest in his brother’s voice wasn’t enough to be worrisome. It might not have been noticeable to Cloud and Patches—and that’s what was most important.

“Wouldn’t want that now would we?” Cloud’s accent made it almost impossible for him to ever sound sincere.

Ash knew his brother flashed Cloud a look. “We say nothing of this in the morning.”

“Consider my lips sealed,” Cloud sassed. 

“I hope they stay that way,” Patches murmured. 

“I heard that.”

“Already breaking your promise…” she sighed. 

The door slammed shut and Ash immediately sat up—listening to their fleeing footsteps and staring at the exit as if it was the one letting him down. When something recurred at least three times a week, Ash felt silly that he was still disappointed. But he stared at the door, then down at his glove-covered hands. 

The highest quality fabric on his scrawny body happened to be the accessories he cared for the least. When his hands got too sweaty, he wanted to rip the gloves apart. When his fingers were suffocating, he wanted to burn the gloves. When he explored the world as it was breaking—he didn’t know the feeling of cool air, a peaceful stream, leaves, skin, dirt. Nothing. 

Restrictions for safety were what they were, a nuisance was how he saw them. 

As he sat on the shabby couch, the wind howled and the glowing fog settled, hugging the intact buildings, covering the cracking pavement. A watch was ticking somewhere in the room with every other tick being significantly louder. A couple of other items hooked up to power were humming—one being low and the other clashing as it rang in his ears. He thought he could hear a fan oscillating, but it must’ve been in a neighboring room as he didn’t feel cool nor refreshed. 

His breathing came easily and all felt peaceful. It was the knowledge that the three people he had left in his life were running about in the danger zones, with only the protection of the moon, that left him unsettled. 

He was just a boy, but he had the potential to be more. The simple shedding of fabric and he could prove to his brother, Leo, that he was trustworthy. His brother did entrust him with knowing what he did. He would spend the scrappy meals describing how slick and powerful he was fighting in the night while nibbling on a dinner roll under the sun. Ash’s mouth would rarely consume the food, as it was stuck agape as he instead devoured the tales his brother told.

Whenever he asked to join the fighting, the default answer was, “It’s too dangerous.” Then Ash would causually press for information about where these fights happen, and he was always given a placating answer. Leo would end the conversation with a promise to one-day fight together, just so he could show off his moves. 

A trickle of sweat moved down Ash’s hand and the howling wind intensified. His ears were ringing and the lights began to flicker. 

He took a sharp inhale and balled his hands into fists, the fabric of his gloves beginning to sigh. His exhale was slow as everything returned to a tolerable state. But before it could happen again, he rose to his feet—the wood creaking underneath him. 

Whether the general place from Leo’s placating answers were deception could only be found out by showing up there. 

The breeze closed the door behind Ash as he slipped out of the room he was beginning to detest. The building as a whole was never his favorite, but the times didn’t allow for preference. Ash had a place to return to at the end of the day, but seldom did he leave.

Even with a mask on, it was second nature to breathe through the nose, and the number one rule was to stay light on the feet. A week straight of scolding from Leo gave Ash the art of stealth and about thirteen new bruises.

Ash’s doe eyes darted from alleyway to alleyway, planning the next step and never staying in one spot for too long. 

Where there was a stretch of pavement, barriers lined them like sidewalks. On the street, nobody could run longer than a quarter mile without having to hurdle one. The neon signs that were still working illuminated off of the reflective plates of the barriers. Ash tried to not mistake them as false movements as he scanned the area.

He had stuck to only one side of the street, but the place he was looking for was a few blocks down. 

Ash slipped into another alley and stuck his back to the wall before observing the area. The lack of noise was only making him more anxious. When he peeked his head out, a flash of silver caught his eye and he ducked, right before hearing something lodge into the brick behind his head. He scrambled to hug the wall of the alley as he pulled a glove off.

A Ninja Star was embedded inches from where his head had just been and another one almost found his frame again. He raised his free hand in anticipation. He thought of stopping the stars’ motion in midair and promptly began moving his hand the way he wanted them to fall. Gray tendrils of energy began protruding from his hand as the stars collided with the pavement.

He lunged forward and ducked behind the barriers while tugging off his other glove. He stuffed them into his pockets and started aiming his body toward the right. Both of his hands hummed as coils of smoke rose out of them.

He took a deep breath before simultaneously standing and sprinting down the sidewalk.

The metal hit the brick to his right; sometimes he heard windows breaking. He redirected anything that he could yet the number of stars never dwindled. Despite the gentle way his fingers moved, his hands strained from manipulating the blades.

He held out for a few more blocks, thinking that dipping into a building would only trap him. When he finally reached a dark place in between two light poles, he stopped and ducked behind the barriers, catching his breath as quietly as possible.

Ash’s instinct was to squeeze his eyes shut and wait it out as if he was facing a monster under the bed. Instead, he slowly pivoted and scanned the sidewalk, ducking and tilting his head until he saw something shimmer.

Quickly, he hovered his hand right above the ground, starting to lift it, and the shiny ninja star began to float. Twisting his wrist to put his palm up against the sky, the blade rotated as well, and when he flicked to the left, it clanged against the ground. 

A storm of stars bombarded the source of the sound and Ash took that as his chance to both flee and cross the street.

Ash continued forward, massaging the center of his hands trying to stay alert. He simply let his feet carry him until he stumbled upon a building that rose to the sky. It was completely renovated to the point that it shined brighter than the stars. The entire front face of it was open so Ash could see shadows dancing on the inner walls indicating a fire.

Stacks of steel and wooden boxes lined the front of the warehouse, but there were slivers in which he could see to the back wall. Each time he crossed, he didn’t see any people and that only tugged at his rage and disappointment.

When his hands started to hum, he retrieved his gloves from his pockets and half-heartedly pulled them on before continuing his search. After scurrying past a stack of wooden pallets, he saw a massive fire pit and wondered what the boxes were filled with that would allow open flames.

Stopping behind a pillar of boxes, he started hearing voices rising—specifically the accent of a low-tempered human. Ash peeked around the corner to see if he could find something else to hide behind that was closer.

He stayed level with the base boxes as he prowled closer to the fire pits, peeking behind crates this time. 

The massive fire in the center grew to the ceiling every once in a while and when it dropped, he could see a group of silhouettes facing off. 

Ash’s eyes lit up when he recognized the back of Leo’s head. To his right, he saw Cloud’s undercut and on the left, Patches’ slight indentation where the eyepatch was pushing into her wavy hair. 

Right as Ash was going to run to them, the main opponent stepped up into Leo’s face. Cloud and Patches instantly shifted closer, but Leo motioned them to halt.

Ash was too far away to hear anything, but from mere observation, he would’ve thought they were long-time mentor and mentee—sans warmth and any love.

The light of the fire revealed a man who had only a few inches on Leo. His dark hair was slicked back, an assortment of weaponry rested on his hips, and he wore shiny leather gloves. The shadows shifting across his face didn’t help, but his eyebrows looked as though they were perpetually dipping toward each other—displaying constant mischief.

The man’s clothes were clean and fell in such straight lines that he probably had them steamed every hour.

Ash could tell Leo was being stoic from the set of his shoulders and the slight incline of his chin. He had told Ash that he kept pairs of daggers against every limb, so whatever talk he was putting out could easily be followed by a worthy fight. Cloud trained with Leo almost every day, but Ash wondered how well Patches did in hand-to-hand combat.

Ash heard the man’s low chuckle as he backed away from Leo.

The silence stretched on, with only the roaring flames being brave enough to speak.

“Now!” the man ordered.

A pair of hands hoisted Ash to his feet just as sirens went off and motors began to whir. He barely made out three scrambling figures through the fire before whipping his head right and left whilst frantically writhing against their strength.

The moment they placed iron restraints around the cuffs of his gloves was when he sought Leo’s face.

Panic swam around in his darkened eyes, but Leo was advancing toward Ash as quickly as he could. 

The guards dragging him set him right in front of the man Leo had just been facing. Now that Ash had a closer look, a scar ran diagonally from his left eye to his right ear, transforming his head into the symbol for ‘don’t do it’.

He limped slightly as he stepped forward. “Ash Golding.”

His voice sounded like a building crumbling to dust, rough stone against rough stone. Ash thought he responded, but his lips stuck together.

“Your brother’s been hiding you well,” he acknowledged while slowly nodding. 

Ash focused on his breathing and while it was a  courtesy to hold eye contact with your elders, he couldn’t help but glance over to Leo, Cloud, and Patches. Leo moved at the pace of a lumberjack tearing down trees. Cloud was deflecting his enemies and Patches was trying her hardest, but she was going to need some help soon. 

“How would you like to have a new place of your own to stay?” he offered. “I could give you shelter, steamy meals that melt in your mouth. Most importantly, training, so you can start your own book instead of reading others’.” He dipped his forehead toward Ash. “How does that sound?”

Perfect, he thought. Everything he’d wanted had been offered, but he didn’t say anything out loud. The sirens hadn’t stopped, he realized the warehouse was heating up because the entrance was now entirely blocked off by the fires. His brother and friends were fighting the minions of the man who was standing in front of him.

His hands began to hum as he decided what to do. He was torn between giving up for a life of ease or fighting for a lost cause. He didn’t know what to do. He felt like a rope being used in a game of tug-of-war. 

“Tell me, Ash, would you like to build a new life for yourself?” the man inquired. 

The only question that really came to mind was, “What’s your name?”

He jerked his head back slightly and a smirk touched his mouth. “Ajax Alderidge.”

“It wasn’t fair that you knew my name, but I didn’t know yours,” Ash stated. He felt weird hearing his voice sound so steady when he was anything but.

Ajax gestured behind him. “Your brother and I are…colleagues.”

Ash tilted his head. “If you’re offering to take me in, what’s wrong with him?”

“I’m selective,” he offered as he shrugged. “When I look at the younger generation, I don’t see where you are in this moment, I see where you could be. And with you, I see endless potential.”

“You’re not looking in the right direction.”

Leo dropped to one knee and shifted all of his weight to one arm as he swept Ajax’s legs out from under him. 

The guard’s grip on Ash’s arms tightened and his shoes began to scuff the floor as he was dragged backward. Leo advanced toward Ash and dove for his feet right as someone yelled, “HELP!”

Patches’ voice rarely went above a library-level decibel and Ash had to watch Leo debate whether to keep his grip or flee. 

As she continued to scream, Ash let the corners of his mouth rise while he encouraged Leo to go.

Ash watched Leo’s chest shakily rise and fall before he pushed himself to his feet. He tried to scan the area to gauge the situation only to find a spear flying directly toward Cloud’s chest.

“NO!” Ash lunged forward and didn’t make it far before one of the guards tossed him over their shoulder. Ash had to watch helplessly as the metal sunk into Cloud’s skin and he fell to his knees.

Tears sat on his lower lash line, blurring his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut as his body jerked and bounced with the movements of the guard. When he opened his eyes again, the scene was diminishing. He could make out Cloud’s hunched shoulders and slow breathing. Then he sought out Leo and Patches only to find one figure on the ground with daggers protruding from both their upper and lower body. 

A whimper escaped his mouth. All the tension in his body released as the sirens faded and his brother and friends disappeared completely.