Icarus Guild: The Renaissance Incident

OF EVIL NURSES AND DOUBLE-FACED TRAITORS

Lanza was not feeling the love. OK, granted he had gotten a bit off the rocker on the Sakyo case, but come on! He was Lanza Cipher! Playboy Extraordinaire! Captain Cool! He was supposed to be surrounded by his fan girls, screaming out confessions. He was supposed to ace everything ! Instead he was here, stuck with a burly healer old enough to be her grandma.

" Keep still.", she grudged.

" Its just a cut! What could happen, Martha?", Lanza groaned.

" Tetanus.", Martha deadpanned as she wrapped another butt load of bandages round his arm.

Damn. This is why he hated smart asses. Lanza was pretty much convinced that if the cuts didn't kill him, the nurse would.

Lanza's eyes drifted as he rested his head on the makeshift chairs the Heal Squad had brought in. He was always surprised by the aura of fake peace after a battle. People laughed as if they were out of danger. As if there would be no more battles.

His eyelids drooped. Why didn't they understand? Revenge was the only way. They had  to fight back.
Perhaps it was the stress of the battle, perhaps it was because he hadn't sept well for days, Lanza slowly drifted off to sleep.

It was the same nightmare every time.

Lanza found himself on the top a mound, a crimson moon shedding a blood red hue behind him. Raven stood at his shoulder, whispering, " Why wait? We all have to die anyway. Kill everything! Wash everything in blood!"

" NO! ", Lanza gritted his teeth. But a booming laughter drowned his voice. Sakyo's laugh.

" Listen to what she says, kid. Bring the girl. Do you like chopped heads? We can play together!"

Lanza shouted with rage, but his voice didn't click. His feet started to sink slowly into the ground. To his horror, Lanza realised he was standing upon a heap of bones.

Skeletal hands clawed at him.

" Join us! You will die anyway.", they groaned in agony.

Lanza tried to scramble out, but the bones weaved a chain round his neck, choking him, pulling him in.
Wallace stood at the top, casting a familiar silhouette on the ground.

" Help! ", Lanza shouted.

" 32 days left.", Wallace smiled.

And he brought down the scythe.


Lanza woke up with a start. His orange T-shirt completely soaked with sweat. A light brush on his neck assured him he was alive. His heart, which was thumping at one hundred, gradually slowed as he took in his new surroundings.
Lanza's eyes adjusted to the mild darkness around him.A soft neon glow. The smell of naphthalene. He was in the infirmary.
Lanza brushed the pendant wrapped around his arm. Metal. Hard, cold, real. It was too similar to the skeletal hands in his nightmare to provide any comfort.

He plucked out the pendant from the chain. It morphed into the familiar shape of a spear. His weapon. Extinto.

Lanza studied his weapon. It was hard to believe that this stick, no bigger than himself, could actually extinguish any life form. The power of sure-kill.  Its tip, honed to a point looked sharp enough to slice a diamond. The holding, a few centimetres away from the tip ,was cushioned with black leather. A purple orb glowed warm in a transparent vase below the holding. The main staff, adorned with stunning splendour of gold and silver, was inscribed with tiny letters. An incantation etched in Sanskrit, the language of the Vedas. Lanza had heard the story too many times to not know. It read-

" Manifest, O mighty wrath of Thunder. Let thou strength flow into this mighty warrior, unmatched in valour and wit. Grant thou the power of divine judgement through my endless carnage."