Spoiler (Click to Show)
Scanning the empty eating area, Spune sighed quietly to himself. He looked down at the table’s surface. He had been sitting so still, the dust had re-settled. It looked like the crushed bits of a dream cloud, hopes, fears, agony…all in one place, all doomed to be forgotten. The gladiator placed one hand on the grainy surface, holding it there for a few moments, eyes closed.
His brothers, friends Erebus and Agana, wRHGs Vamprina, Slinx, Volt, his own parents…he missed them all. When would he have a combat ally? Would he never have one at all? Slight moisture sprayed onto his wrist. He opened his eyes, and realized a tear had just fallen on the dust layer. It looked like it had come from him. Spune withdrew his hand, and stared at his handprint in the dust. Alone, without friends. Living in a world primarily consisting of humans. He was an alien to them. A few, he noticed, flickered at times, becoming stick-figure-like creatures, similar to him. But in the next second they would just be humans or aliens again, not even close in resemblance. So far, he’d never asked why. It might as well have been part of that warrior’s past, and probably not worth digging into.
A soft cooing noise eased its way into his ears. Looking up, he noticed a sand pigeon perched on one of the windowsills of the restaurant building. Spune slid off the table and walked over to it. The bird remained where it was, watching him closely. It didn’t have any reason to fear him. He imagined Agana’s face when she’d talk about them. He missed her constant chatter. He missed Erebus too. Although the Shadow warrior was not the talkative type like his Blood female ally, his presence was comforting. When Erebus was around, Spune felt secure.
Now, he felt terribly lonely.
The sand pigeon cooed again, bobbing its head up and down.
“What is it?” Spune asked the bird. “I don’t have any food if that’s what you’re looking for. This place is too old. I’m also not a good chef.”
The bird just looked at him.
“Do you want to be my friend?” Spune whispered quietly, as if he feared someone might overhear them.
The sand pigeon strutted to the left side of the window, and suddenly it fluttered off. Spune sighed deeply and leaned onto the empty sill, putting his chin on his folded arms. He watched the sun as it hovered in the sky, casting its searing rays on the land below it.
Suddenly Spune remembered something. He thrust himself off the window and rushed to the door of the restaurant. This was easy, since the building had only one lane to run down, and it was so small, that only four tables with four chairs each lined its interior.
He opened the door, and ran to the shadowed side of the building. He bent down and began to dig with his spoon, ignoring the earth element. Soon he stopped, crouching over the hole he’d made, focusing. Carefully, as if he was reaching into a wasp’s nest, he scooped at the very bottom of the pit, and withdrew his weapon.
Soft blue light swirled in the scoop, hovering above the water he held in it. Spune took slow, steady breaths, and began to rise, never taking his eyes off the element. Then he began to walk, carefully, through the dead and dry grass, over to a small pot near the door of the building. He stopped when he reached it, and poured the scoop’s infinite hydration into the pot for a few minutes. Then, the gladiator stopped and looked critically at the moistened soil.
“Come on…” he urged quietly. “You can grow for me…can’t you? I’ve been tending you ever since I lived here!”
The soil didn’t respond. Spune sighed, wondering why he’d been expecting a reply, and moved the plant to a sunnier spot next to the building. He stood still for a moment, deep in thought.
The sound of shattering glass echoed through the ruins. Spune’s eyes flashed, and he gripped his spoon tight. The water element dissipated from it, and the weapon began to glow. The gladiator crouched in the restaurant’s shadow, every sense on full alert.
Soon, a human-shaped figure stumbled into view. He looked fully intoxicated, and kept mumbling random things. Every once and a while he would fall over a pile of rubble, get back up again, and do the exact same thing the next minute. Spune suppressed a giggle. If he kept that up…he’d never get anywhere around this place.
The youngling dashed a few times, coming very close but keeping his distance. He stayed hidden. What if this human belonged to the wRHG system? Could they be using other gladiators to look for him? Spune frowned at the thought. Compared to him, most other human warriors had very little power. Although that could sometimes be a good thing, he wasn’t sure if the idea that he was in this competition was such a great one.
If he was so powerful, wasn’t anyone going to try to find him and get his power? Of course, it would be impossible for anybody to just get it, no matter how many times they killed or experimented on him. At least…that’s what he thought. Spune didn’t want to believe that there was an actual method for that.
A foul stench overloaded his senses. It was worse than all bad smells of his home world as well as the Earth-world. The gladiator blinked a few times. This scent was outrageous, but he could bear it. He’d borne worse battle wounds before. This was nothing…he hoped.
Forcing his eyes to stop tearing up, he crept closer. His eyes dimmed to near darkness, concealing him even more in the shadow. Spune was now close enough to hear what the drunk was saying.
“…I’m not you…I’m Larry…Soni..Burp…blah…guys can say whatev…they want…”
The drunk slurred other inaudible things, and then took another swig from his bottle. His bad walking pattern grew worse, and he tripped over more obstacles than before. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to mind it a bit.
Spune blinked a few times. Wow. This guy was really drunk. He’d seen it in humans before, through use of a magic box* that showed you many things that happened in the world. It also showed fake things for your enjoyment, which was kind of nice.
According to the magic box, if humans drink too much, they begin to get dizzy and do strange things. That included hurting people, overflowing with emotion, going temporarily insane, and driving cars to turn them into wrecks. Not all humans did this. Some were even trying to prevent it. Spune shook his head. These humans needed a proper king or queen to monitor them.
Spune took a deep breath, amazingly without passing out, and cautiously stepped into the drunk’s view. The instant the man saw him; he lifted his bottle, pointing its bottom towards Spune.
“Yu…tharr…” he slurred, and swayed rather violently.
Spune dashed forward, trying to hold him up. A heavily muscled hand shoved into his face as the man tried to push him away. It smelled even worse than the aura he’d had from a distance. Spune stumbled away, coughing, and watched in disbelief as the man fell flat on his face. The youngling dashed, becoming a blur of color, and flipped the human on his back.
“You know,” he said as he slowed and returned to the human’s side. “You shouldn’t be drinking so much.”
“Donn…carr…” the drunk replied, slurring away. “Name…La…ree…not…yu…”
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t care.” Spune replied, feeling slightly woozy. “It’s not good for your body.”
The drunk narrowed his eyes. His face was smudged with all types of things, food and dirt mostly. The area around his mouth was slightly cleaner, but stank of beer. His hair was black and all tangled, and the clothes he wore looked older than him, but no better than his face. There were stains and worn-out spots on them everywhere.
“Steel…liv..urr..” Larry mumbled, trying to rise. “Beer…not…hurt…beer…good…”
Spune grinned a little. “Okay then, Larry. I’ll take your word for it.”
The youngling looked around for a minute. His smile converted to a frown. “Larry…what are you doing here?”
“Bad…offi..shulls…” the drunk responded. “La…ree…run.”
Bad officials. The wRHG regulators. That must have been them. They tried to make sure that no overpowered wRHGs come to fight in the arena. Fortunately for Spune, his last battle was done in an unofficial area. He hoped no one knew it. For all he knew, he could be considered overpowered, even though he tried to fight fairly.
He cocked his head, looking Larry over. He was probably being chased for being drunk.
“Do…do you want to stay with me?” Spune began, hesitantly.
Larry got to his feet, stumbled in a circle, and miraculously recovered.
“No…” he replied. “Can’t…La…ree…mus…go…play…sez…”
“Please?” Spune whined. “It’ll only be for one night! I get really lonely.”
The drunk looked him in the eye, and then his gaze began to wander and tilt. A long silence fell, but it was soon broken.
“Oh…kayee…La…ree…stay…own…leee…one…night.”
Spune’s spirits lifted. The smell suddenly didn’t seem so bad anymore. He skipped past Larry, throwing a cheerful look over his shoulder.
“Come on Larry! It’s this way!”
The drunk stumbled after him as quickly as he could, mumbling an off-tune song under his breath.
***
In the upper floor of the restaurant, two rather creaky beds lay. In them were two gladiators. One was a drunk named Larry. The other was a young warrior named Spune. They’d spent most of the morning just singing and talking about things. As night fell, they had pushed aside all their differences. They were both wRHGs, but for now, they were something more. They were friends.
Spune rolled over on his bed, eying the drunk. He never let go of that bottle of his. Maybe it was special too. Like his spoon. So far, the man had been awfully quiet, so Spune decided to try at a conversation again.
“Sometimes…” he whispered to Larry. “I wish on stars. It’s kind of crazy that I believe in that stuff, but it works out…kind of.”
Larry nodded slowly. Suddenly he burped, and a large chunk of the roof above them tore free. The starry heavens were suddenly exposed, and the moon’s soft light enveloped the room. Spune watched the chunk fly through the air, stunned. When it landed, he turned a wary eye towards Larry. Larry gave him a small shrug.
“Fun…” he said.
“Yeah…I guess.” Spune managed in reply. He brushed some dust and debris off his bed. “Um, Larry…do you do that in your sleep?”
The drunk smiled. “La…ree want…again…”
Spune sat up, alarmed. “No! Larry, please don’t…”
The next burp came, but fortunately it missed everything except the house next door, blasting it to bits. The drunk was laughing now, and didn’t seem to fear Spune in the least. The youngling’s eyes narrowed and he marched over to Larry’s bed. He put a hand on the warrior’s shoulder.
“Larry…” he said softly. “I know you like doing this. But can you please do it tomorrow? We can blow up more buildings, just not my house. I promise.”
Larry’s gaze grew distant, but soon his stubborn face relaxed. “Oh…kayee…”
A flash of black swept across Spune’s vision. The youngling reeled, and Larry suddenly rose to steady him. They both fell heavily to the floor, knowing better than to land on each other. Spune couldn’t keep the smile off his face, and he burst out laughing. Larry began to chuckle a little. His laugh was deep and he made snorting noises when he did it. Every snort caused a fine spray of snot and saliva to sprinkle Spune’s face. The youngling blinked a few times, swiping carefully at the mess, trying not to ruin the moment.
“Soh…ree.” Larry drawled. “Yu…arrr…fun…eee.”
Spune grinned at him. “Thanks…I guess.”
The two gladiators lay there for a while, and then went back to their beds. Not wanting more destruction, Spune moved Larry’s bed closer to the hole of his first burp. He hoped that if the drunk ever did do it in his sleep, it would just go out the same opening again.
Spune closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Time to rest…finally.
“What…iz…your…name?” Larry asked, turning over in his bed. His motion caused his bed’s mattress to creak and squeak a little.
“Spune,” the youngling answered. “Spune Swiftwing.”
“Nice.” the drunk responded, and the next moment was punctured by a loud snore.
Spune closed his eyes, and surprisingly fell asleep.
***
The sun stabbed through the roof of the ruined restaurant. While some of its light gave chase to the night’s shadows, the rest poured itself on Spune. He twisted under the soft caress of the heat, and soon opened his eyes. He noticed something immediately. Larry was gone. The youngling leaped to his feet, his eyes blazing with light.
“Larry?” Spune called. “Larry! Where are you?!”
The gladiator darted downstairs, and suddenly realized the front door was open. He never left the door open. Larry must have been travelling in a hurry. Spune narrowed his eyes and dashed through the doorway, not stopping until he reached the area where he’d met the drunk. Spune stood there for a few seconds, eyes closed, taking deep breaths. The faint sounds of combat drifted into his ears. Among them were the enraged shouts of his friend.
“Larry…” Spune breathed. He leaped into the air, and his wings converted to steel. He released his spoon, and it drifted beside Spune as he flew.
Surging through the ruins, he reached a decimated gas station. Larry was fighting with three men. Each of them wore the same clothing, with the same WR symbol on their backs. The suits were solid black, with unmistakable bright yellow highlights on their pant legs, wrists, and waists. They carried shock sticks, and one had a pistol strapped to his belt. Their shielded helmets concealed their faces, but he knew what they were without guessing.
wRHG regulators.
Spune noticed that the strongest one of them had three elements around him. They were in small clumps, hovering in the air, and suddenly he sensed that the wind element was there too. Was he some sort of Caster? His spoon returned to his hand automatically, and the youngling’s fingers clenched tightly around it.
Larry’s bottle swung hard into one of the men, thudding against his skull with a sickening crack. The man fell, out cold. Spune raised his weapon, and suddenly the leader turned and saw him. He raised his hand, and all four of his elements headed straight for the youngling.
Spune twisted, avoiding all attackers save for one. He whipped his spoon out in front of him. The minute the element smashed into him, he was driven back quite a ways, a smile spreading across his face.
“Oh yeah?” he yelled at the regulators