Alasla: The New Age

Chapter Thirteen- Monk

A flash. Ralph is now standing before the man again, just before he was decapitated.

But he clearly remembers being killed by Monk. He looks up in fear and alarm, his glare meeting the disappointed, crinkled eyes of Monk.

"Really, this is all you've got?" He taunted in disdain. "Where's the promised 'extremely dangerous criminal'?"

"You killed me, didn't you?" Ralph speculated. "Same with the grocery list. You have the Stone of Time, don't you? You can reverse the happening of a particular event, can't you?"

His catfish mustache twitched as he pursed his lips.

"Hm. You figured that. You're right," Monk sways his walking stick in a circular motion as he strides across the deck. "I'll leave you to be, for now, Lucy won't know about this either way."

He pulls out a redwood pipe from his pocket, then left off whistling.

Ralph knows clearly that the best thing he could do is to stay still. From what has just happened, he had felt the difference in power between him and Monk who is... Kanitha's father.

Without another word, Ralph darted across the ship to catch up with him, then skidded to a stop before him.

"You came from the Government," he said breathlessly. "What do you want from Kanitha?"

Monk raised a brow skeptically.

"Even if I want her dead, what could you do?" He jeered. "What do you even know about her? What are you willing to do for her?"

Ralph's glare sharpened. There is a reason he can't let go. That promise was all he needs for this reply.

"Anything."

Monk remains expressionless. The longer Ralph looked at him, the more terrified he gets. In Monk's eyes, veiled behind the emotionless blankness, were anger and hatred. He couldn't grasp why. This is the first time he's met him. What could've possibly made him hate Ralph this much in the first five minutes they met each other?

"How ironic," Monk drawls. "Should this be blamed on you I don't know, but you should stay away from Kanitha."

Monk leaned in, completely looming Ralph in his shadow.

"She is better off without you. If you're selfish enough to keep her by you when you don't even know about her, then I would gladly keep killing you until you come to your senses."

His blue eyes, the same as Kanitha's, was throwing daggers at him while he talks. After he finished his sentence, a flare of green streaked through the air and he was gone. Leaving Ralph again, alone, on the deck.

For the first time, he felt like a fool. All of his thoughts and senses were jumbled up. His mind was a mess. He was powerless. It's the same time he realizes if right now, danger was really to come, he'll be left completely defenseless. He should've known this since Forrest's death. He has neither the power nor the guts to defend the things he cares about, and he had already let one slip. Monk's appearance was almost like Kanitha herself, pointing out how ignorant he was.

A stream of fear washed through him.

Does Kanitha think the same? Does Kanitha hate him for his deeds? He had already lost, rather than thinking of how to change, he's just asking for more. He's making Kanitha vow to stay, to be with him, to cover up that dark, empty hole that Forrest's death had left. If there was Jerron again to shoot Kanitha, he still can't do anything. He will watch the cycle happen again. And he would again ask someone else to be with him until they die for his carelessness, too.

He snapped his eyes close as a sudden blast of pain throbbed through his head. He fell to his knees, clutching his head, and a scene flashed into his mind.

*

Missions are no joke to me. But I will have to admit that even I, the most experienced member in my age group, fear this mission.

We would be transferred back in time. Five hundred years earlier, just at the start of the Great Raid, to assassinate a particularly strong opponent.

But I took it on. I and five other teammates were delivered to the foot of a gigantic, rocky castle. The Stronghold of Madame Tsana, the infamous ruler of the time before the Great Raid.

There are nine others like Tsana, but they've been taken care of by other members or a secret association that goes by the name 'Scars'.

As we were told, my team crept off, fixing bombs and explosive materials all around the stronghold in unnoticed but fragile corners. We met up in the stronghold's backyard after we've done our jobs, and already we lost one member.

With five of us left, we waited for hours in the tranquil, peaceful yard. Here many of my friends broke into tears. Countless people like them joined Jerron because their families were killed during the war, but here they are, repeating their fate upon others with their own hands.

I did feel sorry, but not as much. I watched the silver lilies bloom under the full corn moon, her glow showering the ground. I kept track of the time; as soon as the clock hand stroke eight, I pressed the button that changed everything.

Out of the silence, an explosion, a fiery outburst, screaming, crying, and merciless flames erupted all at once. My other teammates refused to watch, but I recall myself staring at the disaster emotionlessly as the fiery sparks danced in my eyes.

The moon had gone out with the smoke clogging the sky inside out. The patch of lilies is now a rumble of burning mess. Out of the fume, we saw Tsana, fighting to keep her Stronghold safe.

But something else caught our eyes. One of the intact windows on the stronghold suddenly shattered, and out falls a man and a little girl. He wrapped the girl in his arms as he crashed onto the ground out of the burning room, without stopping for recovery, he picks up his pace again and sprinted through the snow land with the girl in his arms.

My teammates asked me to pretend like we didn't see that happening. And what couldn't I've done to make that request come true. But yet I can't. Our order is to leave no survivors.

I called on the armies of the Scars and reported the escapers to them. I left my teammates to take a watch of the Stronghold while I pulled myself up on a horse and joined the Scars' army to chase after the two.

Memories got fragile from here. Flashes of snow splattered with blood, the screaming of the girl, and the roaring of the man were all that was left echoing through the cold, snow falling dark.