Relic

Chapter 3: Hat

 R gazes down at his mask. The grim features and streaks of red send chills down his spine. Every time he holds it in his hand, the memories come back. The images. The sounds. His heart wails in fear at the mask.

"Well!" R is shaken back to reality from a very annoyed Ram. "We doing this or what?" She pulls against her new collar. "We really have to wear these stupid things?"

"Sadly. If you're caught without it, you'll be in big trouble. Even if it's fake, better to have it then not." R takes a deep breath. "Alright, come at me!" He places the mask on his face. He can feel it fuse into his flesh. His shoulder blades crack and snap, tearing at his skin. His rotten, bladed wings unfurl from his back. He marches at Ram, patiently waiting for her next move. The red energy crackles and zips across her body. 'Uncontrolled. Again.' R thinks to himself.

As he expected, she rushes at him, her limbs flailing out of control from her power. She trips past him before she could even get a swing in. "Stop messing around Ram."

"I'm not damnit!" She punches the ground, cracking it. She gets up to her feet to hit him again. But R is able to sidestep each strike. Even with his wings weighing him down. "My wings are like hundred-kilogram weights, and I'm still fast enough to dodge your strikes."

"Shut up!"

"You need to rein in your strength. You can even see it going haywire. You won't be able to protect anything like that!"

She continues to run herself ragged with excessive movement and swings. She spends an absurd amount of energy trying to correct for her overblown swings. In less than five minutes, she already runs out of breath, collapsing onto the ground. Her chest heaves. "How about stop telling me what I already know, and teach me some martial arts or something!"

"I would if I knew anything like that. I can only help you practice. You need to put your best efforts forward and correct your mistakes yourself." R kneels down next to her. "Hasn't anyone taught you how to fight?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" R doesn't respond, not wanting to pry into something he doesn't need to. Ram turns her face away. "I was. But as you can see, I wasn't any good at it."

"Who taught you?" R asks.

"I think you know already. My sisters and I were failed experiments. They tried training us as soldiers, but only Flare was good at that." She presses her legs into her chest.

"If Flare was a soldier, why was she a failure?"

"Her lack of emotion. Because of that, she doesn't follow instructions that risk her life. A trait they don't want in their perfect soldier."

"I see."

"Actually, I don't know why the hell I'm sharing this with you of all people. Enough of this fucking break." She hops back up. "Come on, I want to try again!"

R continues to spar with her for another hour. She shows no signs of improvements the entire time. R tries to point out every mistake she makes, but she doesn't care to listen or improve. It's almost infuriating how incapable she is of listening to what he says.

After the hour is up, R retrieves the water bottles he placed off to the side and tosses one towards her. "Thanks." She says, before downing the whole thing in one gulp. R takes his own bottle and takes a sip from it. "I'm not sure how you'll improve if you continue to do the same thing without trying to change." R expects her to do some sort of retort. Instead, she stays silent. Almost like she's thinking about it. "Take some time to think about it."

R grabs at his mask and rips it off. His flesh pulls tightly on the mask, fighting back against R's attempt to remove it. But eventually, he manages to tear it off, snapping off bits of flesh. His wings shrivel up, stuffing themselves back where they came from. Then, his wounds heal back up, good as new. R takes a seat next to Ram on the curb, drinking his water.