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 Once Upon a Time…. A Sci-Fi Medieval Action Adventure Melo-Dramedy By Jake Bruno M forced himself up, even though the pain in his right ankle was screaming for him to stay put. Serves me right, M thought, wincing, stupid and thoughtless. White hot projectiles filled the air around him. The sound of explosions and men yelling mixed with the pain of a very badly sprained ankle forced a bit of vertigo into the already confused M, and he fell again. This was not supposed to happen this way. But, then again, does it ever happen like you would expect? The first day he met what would be his best friend was similar to the present state of not knowing he was in now, but, perhaps, a bit less grave. During the Ward years, M was always on top of his tribe. He was the best in all fields of their training. From basic survival skills to advanced ironworks and physics, M excelled. After all, his father, who was a prodigy in his own rights, was very demanding. But that all changed when he went on to Academy. And when he met Kerry. Kerry was… …that all changed when he went on to Academy. And when he met Kelion Vance. Kelion Vance was everything M was, only times two. He was better with a sword, a better pilot, better especially with the women. M was sure it was some sick joke (or some test) that he was paired with Kelion. But that's the way things worked out. M had arrived at the Academy with all the hopes and dreams any Ward who passed his Exams would have. He was full of vigor, life, optimistic to a fault. He reached his room, set his bags on the floor, and knocked, since he did not yet have the slipcard to the door. Kelion answered, accompanied by a plume of smoke. M coughed, looked up, and stuck his hand out. "Hiya, I'm M, your new roommate…" Kelion simply looked at him, no emotions revealed. "Um… maybe this isn't the right room… is this room Alpha 23?" Kelion stared blankly at M for another thirty seconds, and then to the front of the door, where it was clearly marked "Alpha 23". Kelion's glance went back to M. "No." The door slammed shut. M knocked again, not sure whether this was a joke, or a test of his will. Kelion again opened, smoke pouring out from behind him, and again with no expression at all. "No, you see, uh, I'm your new roommate… this is my room too… so… uh… could you let me in…?" "You're a first year, then?", Kelion spoke, with a strange accent M had only heard once or twice when he had been near the ocean with his father. It was Scottish, M thought, though he knew there was no such thing as a Scotland anymore. "Yes… are you from-", but he didn't get the chance to finish, the door was closed once again. M crawled along the ground, inching through the debris that was strewn about. Some of it was still smoldering from the explosions. He even thought he saw pieces of his own airship, which he ran into the earth not too long back. The ankle, a bit happier that it was no being used, still pulsated. Freeze. A group of men were approaching, and fast. M could not recognize the pattern of movement or footsteps as his own kind, it was the enemy. So close, he would be killed on sight, and since his weapon of choice, a sort of rapier and handgun… ….. So close, he would be killed on sight, and since his weapon of choice, a sword made of light… ….. So close, he would be killed on sight, and since he had, in his flight out of his burning vessel, forgotten his arms, was helpless as a calf. The pulsating from his ankle now seemed to encompass his entire body, each heartbeat was an event, pounding closer to certain annihilation. Kelion eventually let M in their quarters. It was much smaller than the brochure. Two small cots on the opposite sides of the oval shaped room, a small space for personal effects, and one armory for them to keep their arms. M was not fitted with one yet, so Kelion's proudly kept all the space to itself. Kelion explained to M that since he was the one with tenure (even if it was only one year) he would lay down some base rules. "The most important one, kid, is not to talk about anything that goes on in this room with anyone, got that?" "How… how do you mean?" "Let's just say that their might be a bit of traffic coming to and fro this room, and I don't need some green Ward telling all his other first year buddies how his roommate had drilled half the girls piloting team, okay?" "Y… yeah… sure… drilled?" "You have much to learn, young one, much to learn." Foreign voices were now louder than the bullets overhead and the explosions in the backdrop. M couldn't fit where he had heard the language before… THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! His whole body was shaking from his heartbeat, but, for some reason, as the soldiers advanced, M started to relax. After all, his training had more than equipped him with the skills to take down even a dozen armed men without his arm. Then, salvation. Not more than five paces in front of him there was an overturned land vehicle, enemy design, but perfect cover. If he could just get over to it, he could see what he was up against. Ignoring the demands of a busted ankle, he slowly crouched his way over to the covering. He pressed his back to the warm underbelly of the tank, jeep, whatever, and looked on the other side. Apparently, the soldiers had the same idea, as M was now face to face with a masked man with the colors of the invading army. "Uh-oh." On Kelion and M's floor was their squad, Kelion being the leader. Across the hall was a much bigger Ward who went as Megroth. Megroth was unlike anyone M has ever met, either he was a dumbfounded tit or a misunderstood giant genius. Always speaking of things never heard before by M, Megroth wasn't much liked by the others. One door south of them housed two of the female Wards, Shamya (who had dark, ebony like skin and a gentle, almost angelic face), and Emily (who was waif thin but had an inner fire unmatched by even Kelion). M very much liked the company of the two girls, and they became quick friends. Especially Shamya, who was physically stronger, and kind of took M under her wing. To the North east of the hall was two second years by the names of Braughn and Pawal. M noticed the pairing tendencies of the Administrators were strange, because Braughn and Pawal were two of the most different people you could ever meet, but they made one of the best pilot tandems in the Academy. Braughn was thick with muscle, strong, fearless, while Pawal was more… well… not like Braughn. The final pair of Ward's was to the North of M's quarters. Two more females, Tamora (who was named from a play that was forgotten almost as long ago as the scribe who had written it died), and Fay…. Two more females, Tamora (who was named from a play that was forgotten almost as long ago as the scribe who had written it died), and Robin, who M knew from the village he… Two more females, Tamora (who was named from a play that was forgotten almost as long ago as the scribe who had written it died), and Fay who was from the same village as M, and he only knew her because their fathers were friends. M could sense that Fay had an attraction to him, and, perhaps, in another world or time, something between them might have happen, or, if Shamya never existed. M found it a little unnerving to be in the same squad as her, but it was a time of war and things like a past could weigh down whether or not you live to see your future. The man in the mask (which was more like an over sized pair of field goggles) seemed to be just as surprised as M when their faces almost touched. M, in what he didn't know was pure fear or pure gall, laughed out loud. He then spoke in their language, perfectly. It was a strange sensation, but he knew not how he was doing it, so he went with it. "Finally!", M spat out, "I have found you! My name is", M didn't even know his tongue could make such a sound, "and I've been deep undercover." The masked man stood in dumbfounded confusion. M stood up (his ankle held up) and walked over right into the middle of the enemy grouping. "Who is the commanding officer?" They pointed to a man wearing a slightly different armor configuration. "Yes, well, I see you are all just foot soldiers, and I have compromised my position even talking to you. There's a small band of them about 50 paces south west from here. I need to go back into my post, but, does any of you have a small firearm or dagger they could let me have?" The masked men contemplated this for a second, then the ranking soldier pulled out one of his pistols and handed it to M. This is too easy, he thought. M checked the weapon, and then nodded. He wished them good luck to their god (still not knowing how or why he was able to fluently communicate with them) and started to walk back into the thick of rubble and destruction. He was just about clear from them when one of them ran up to him. M quickly turned and had the gun pointed at the mask, who backed up slightly and raised his hand, in which was a flask of water and a ration. M smiled, and nodded as he took the stuffs. The soldier ran back, and the squad disappeared into the thick. M fell with a thud, sweating. His overbearing thump, thump, thump started as if it never left, and he sat there, slightly amused and slightly in a fit of shock. 
   
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EVERYTHING JAKE is TM & (C) 2000-2011 by Mike Rosenzweig. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
