Shattered Remnants of a Dream

8. ...In Despair

He stood on a cliff overlooking the vast wasteland that unfolded before his eyes. Wind blew through his soft brown hair, breaking not a strand from the meticulous part on the left side of his head. His face was round and boyish, with deep brown eyes and a perfect set of pearly white teeth. A butterscotch-colored frock coat covered him, adorned with golden buttons and a silver pocket watch. For the first time in his life, he had been sent out on a mission. He planned to complete it with precision and accuracy, for he was now one of the elite.

Behind the howling wind, another sound surfaced. It was a vehicle. The young man stepped off the edge and went sailing toward the ground. The 25-foot drop gave him no trouble, and he landed softly on the sand below, eyes fixated on the approaching buggy.

The buggy's driver was Kurt Alzorne, another young man with a mission. The sleek, metallic sand buggy had been lent to him by the sheriff of Land's End, as his mission was an urgent one.

The pressure was getting to Kurt as he neared his destination, so he missed seeing the figure drop down gracefully in the middle of the pass. By the time Kurt noticed the blond-haired man walking toward him, his buggy had already zoomed in far too close.

"Holy–"

Kurt shoved his left hand onto the emergency brake in a panic, wondering if he'd be able to slow down in time. The stranger watched calmly as the buggy's bumper moved up to nudge his shins.

"The hell ya doin', man?!" Kurt jumped out of the car with his shotgun. "If ya wanna die so bad, I'll just do ya right here!"

The young man stared at Kurt expressionlessly. He raised a hand and brushed some dust off the shoulder of his coat.

Kurt aimed his gun at the suspicious stranger. "What're ya doin' out here, anyway? This here's private property. Speak, man, speak!"

"You are inferior."

Kurt faltered. "Say what now?"

The blond man put his hands inside his coat, then pulled them out to reveal two small, gleaming sickles.

"You're in my way, insect."

*

Cliff flung his eyes open, expecting to see the demented face of Xarles Klavier Van Kaen staring down at him. Instead, he saw the green casing of a regeneration tank. His limbs and vitals were attached to the tank by nodes and IV tubes which rapidly pumped in medicine and recuperative psynergy that would speed up his body's healing process. Submerged in warm, therapeutic jelly, Cliff's body felt clean and secure. Even though he couldn't see through the casing of the tank, he knew where he was: the Guild hospital.

I can't believe it. Cliff looked down to his jagged, bruised stomach. I thought I was dead for sure... And I would be. Van Kaen would have killed me...if it hadn't been for Eden. Eden was who they were after, yet she saved me somehow. But in a way, that's even worse. What if she really is the Daughter?

It hurt Cliff's mind to think, so he resigned himself to rest. Whether it was minutes or hours later, at some point, he felt the fluid drain out from the tube. A panel to the outside slid open, and cold air rippled over his body.

"Vice-Captain Walden? Are you awake?" A voice called out. "Amazing. After only six hours of recuperation, you're already conscious again."

A short man with buzzed white hair in a blue Guild uniform approached Cliff and began removing the wires from his body. As Cliff slowly climbed out, he felt his body cry out in pain from every angle. After a few shaky steps, the Knight slowly regained his sense of balance.