Kingdom of the Elves
by: Amisha Smith
Alright! For the past few months I've been taking classes at Devry University in the Gaming and Simulation Program, and guess what? I just finished all of my first four classes with a high A! Not only that, my online coach told me that she was going to try to get me an internship at SquareEnix! Yay me! Oh yeah, I'll be creating kick-ass RPGs before you know it! Anyway, now that this semester's almost over I've got some time on my hands to get the next chapter in this fanfic of mine done. So let me get this chapter up before I have to take my finals. Yeesh.
Chapter Seven
"You're worthless, you hear me? You're the most pathetic person that ever existed!"
Marcello stood silently with his head hanging low and his heart weighed down with sadness and despair as the young boy standing in front of him berated him mercilessly. He knew that once again he was having the same recurring nightmare he'd always had for years since the day his mother died. Every time he fell asleep the terrible dream would always come to him without fail, forcing him to relive through his subconscious the day his mother passed away. Right now he was going through the worst part of the dream; the part in which his mother had just finished dying and his younger self would confront him with anger and contempt for not having done anything to save her when she needed him the most.
"You miserable lowlife!", the boy continued to verbally abuse Marcello. "She was always there for you, even when she started to get sick! And what do you do to repay her? You abandon her! You left her while she was still dying! You scum."
"I… I'm so sorry", Marcello said in a weak voice, unfallen tears hanging from his eyes. "I… I just didn't know what to do."
"You didn't know what to do?", the boy yelled angrily. "You call that an excuse? You miserable worm." The boy then turned his back on Marcello and folded his arms. "You haven't even avenged her death, have you? You don't even care enough to do that."
"That's not true!", Marcello sobbed desperately. "I do want to avenge her! I tried! I'm still trying!"
"You're still failing as well", the boy growled in an acid voice. "I swear, you are absolutely useless! There are no results in just trying, there are only results in success!"
"I... I almost succeeded", Marcello pleaded. "I was so close. But then…"
"But then you allowed yourself to be defeated", the boy finished Marcello's sentence with a snort of contempt. "And by that snot-nosed, wet behind the ears brother of yours, no less. And as if that wasn't bad enough, then you allowed the bastard to save your life. You should have gripped his hand and pulled back with all your might so that both you and your brother would fall off the cliff to your deaths. At least you would be taking some small measure of revenge with you to your grave. It's not like you're worth anything alive. Right now, you're nothing more than a living, breathing failure; an embarrassment to your mother's name. To be truthful, she'd have been better off if you had never been conceived."
That was it. That was all Marcello could stand. He turned and retreated from the room which his dead mother and bitter younger self occupied, tears now freely falling from his cheeks as he walked away. He just couldn't take any more. He knew he was a failure. He knew that his very existence had ruined his mother's life and, ultimately, sent her to her grave. He knew that he'd once been close to realizing his dream of changing the world so that no noble could ever do what had been done to him to another living person, and he knew that his goal was suddenly snatched from beyond his grasp by his meddling brother Angelo and his friends. But to listen to the cruel words of his younger self verbally and maliciously assaulting him over and over with these facts was just too much for him to bear.
"You can run, but you can't hide from the truth!", he heard the voice of his younger self call from behind him in a distant, hollow voice. "You're a failure! And you will continue to be a failure until you produce results, you hear me? Results!"
Marcello began to walk faster, but he wasn't really sure if he was going anywhere. The entire space around him, even the ground itself, seemed to have melted away, leaving nothing but a dark void in its place. Suddenly, weary of the anguish he was enduring, he broke out into a run. He was desperate to find an escape from this dream, desperate to leave the angry voice of his younger self behind. After another long minute of running he fell to his hands and knees and closed his eyes. Wake up, Marcello. Wake up, he kept repeating to himself over and over. He desperately wanted this nightmare to end. Wake up, Marcello. Please wake up. Wake up…
Marcello's eyes snapped open and he sat up with a gasp. His breathing rate and his pulse were accelerated, just as they always were whenever he woke up from having that same awful dream. He reached up, wiped the sweat from his brow, and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He was thankful that the nightmare was over now, at least until the next time he fell asleep. Once he had collected himself he took the time to look around and observe his surroundings. He was sitting on top of the green spread on one of the six small springy beds in a dingy, moss-filled room. The walls of the room were made of cold hard brick which had a few holes in them thanks to moistness and wet mildew slowly eating away at the stone. A somewhat tattered piece of scarlet tapestry with a crest in the shape of a skeletal dragon encircling a sword hung just below a pile of cobwebs on the far end of the wall.
Marcello stood up off the bed and stretched his legs. As he breathed in the air around him he noticed a familiar breezy, mist-like scent hanging in the air, and the atmosphere had a small bit of a chilly bite to it. Hm. I must be near the ocean, he thought to himself. He then took another look around, wondering where he was. How did I even get here? The last thing I remember was killing that sea dragon, and then I crashed into the boat, and then… Hm, I must have been knocked out by the impact. Did Iylea bring me here? Where is that annoying girl anyway? Suddenly he heard voices coming from beyond the wooden door at the end of the room. He recognized one of the voices to be Iylea's, but he had no idea who the other people she was talking to were. He walked over to the door and opened it, and walked into a room that was only slightly bigger than the one he woke up in and might have been a small dining hall. In the middle of the room were six semi-long wooden tables lined side by side, and weapons racks full of rusty and ancient looking axes and swords lined the walls. And standing just a few feet away from the door he just walked through, along with three other people whom Marcello didn't recognize, was Iylea. One of the people she was talking to was a young woman who looked about her age with brown hair and wearing a skimpy-looking skirt and blouse uniform. The other two people were a couple of young men with red hair; one of them was lean and wore a brown leather jacket over a white shirt and jeans that seemed almost too big for him, the other was somewhat chubby and wore goggles on his head, a pair of black knee-length pants, and a tropical shirt that seemed to be decorated with images of every kind of colorful flower in the world. Neither Iylea nor the people she was talking to had noticed him yet, as they were deep in conversation.
"Seriously, you guys! I'm telling you the truth!", Iylea was telling the three people desperately. "Marcello and I kicked that giant sea dragon's butt! At first it looked like it had us on the ropes, but then we turned the tables on it! We totally owned it's ass!"
"Yeah right, Iylea", the chubby one said with a smirk. "The only thing you own is the world's record for telling the most bullcrap stories."
"Yeah, really", the other young man said with a laugh. "Look, I've heard about how tough and powerful this Marcello bloke is, but for heaven's sake! Just recently a whole ship of knights went out to deal with that sea dragon, and not only did they fail, but only about half of them came back alive! And here you are trying to tell us that it took only you and Marcello to send this beast to Davey Jones' locker. And I guess we're just supposed to be stupid enough to believe that."
"Aw forget you guys", Iylea pouted. She turned to the brown-haired girl. "You believe me, right Chloe?"
"Gimme a break", the chubby one said, rolling his eyes. "Of course Chloe's gonna side with you. She's your friend."
"Well Abner, if you really think about it, Iylea's story does hold a lot of water", the girl responded. "For one, you and Hewitt didn't even think she was telling the truth when she busted in here and told you that she had met Marcello. And you refused to believe her until I told you guys to come to my boat and help me carry him in here and you saw him with your own eyes. Now seeing as how she obviously wasn't lying about that, don't you think it would make sense for you to believe her about the sea dragon? Secondly, Iylea said that the sea dragon they had been doing battle against crashed into the boat they were on and destroyed it. And I did happen to find Iylea and her newfound friend floating smack dab in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by debris of wood. And since it's very doubtful that they would have wound up all the way out there by swimming, it's only logical to conclude that they had a boat at one point in time."
"Ha! In your face!", Iylea crowed smugly. "See? Chloe knows I'm telling the truth!"
"Alright, alright", the lean boy said in an irritated and defeated voice. "So I'll admit that they probably were attacked by the sea dragon. And maybe it's even true that the sea dragon is now dead. But I'll bet it was really Marcello doing all the fighting. Especially since Iylea here couldn't swing a sword to save her own life."
"Oh screw you, Hewitt", Iylea snapped. "You weren't even there, so what the hell do you know?"
"Hey guys, check it out!", the chubby one said excitedly while pointing a finger at Marcello. "He's finally awake!"
At that instant everyone turned and looked at Marcello, who had been standing in the doorway and silently studying the group. This was obviously the 'gang' Iylea had told him about while they were on the boat. After about a minute of scrutiny Marcello had already surmised that neither of the people Iylea was talking to was their gang leader, the man Iylea said was named Ashe.
"Hey, Marc!", Iylea crowed joyfully as she ran to Marcello's side and playfully linked her arm with his, finding yet another way to irritate Marcello. "It's about time you woke up! Come on, I want you to meet the gang!"
"Would you let go of me?", Marcello snapped irritably. "I don't have time for your foolishness. Where is your leader?"
"Yeah yeah, in a minute, Mr. Grumpy pants", Iylea said. "First things first! Let me introduce you to my buddies!" She pointed to the tall lean young man. "This is Hewitt, the, ahem, second best thief in the gang after yours truly. Well don't just stand there, Hewitt. Say hi or wave or something." Hewitt just waved once at Marcello without saying a word. Marcello neither said or did anything to respond.
"And this", Iylea continued, pointing to the chubby young man wearing goggles, "is Abner. He's our official fix-it man. He can repair anything, and I mean anything. If it's broke, he can fix it." Abner offered his hand to shake with Marcello. Marcello didn't take it; he just glared back at him. With a gulp, Abner withdrew his hand.
"And over here", Iylea said pointing to the brown-haired girl, "is my best friend Chloe. She's the one who keeps record of all the treasure we've stolen in the vault. She's also the one who introduced me to the gang and got me in as a member." Chloe nodded politely at Marcello.
"Iylea, are you quite finished yet?", Marcello asked irritably.
"No, or course not! I have to introduce you now", Iylea responded. She stepped back and dramatically waved her hand to present Marcello. "Guys, this is my new pal, the famous and one and only Marcello."
"I'm not your pal", Marcello growled.
"Oh, and by the way, I'm the only one who can call him Marc", Iylea continued on proudly. "His name will always be Marcello to you guys."
"And you", Marcello snapped at Iylea.
"Hmph. Not exactly the friendly type, is he?", Chloe said with one raised eyebrow.
"Well can you blame him? Being around Iylea for more than five minutes is enough to put anybody in a bad mood", Hewitt said jokingly.
"Aw, he always acts like that. But he's really cool", Iylea said. "He totally saved my butt. If it wasn't for him, I'd be nothing but bad breath on a sea dragon right now."
"Aha! So Marcello did do most of the fighting against that sea dragon! I knew it!", Abner crowed triumphantly.
"No he didn't!", Iylea snapped indignantly. "Okay, well, maybe he did, but I helped out! Honest!" Iylea then proceeded to annoy and enrage Marcello by pulling on his arm. "Come on, Marc! You know I helped you take out that sea dragon! Say something! Back me up here!"
"Enough!", Marcello yelled as he snatched his arm out of Iylea's grasp. "I told you, I don't have time for this. I need to speak to your leader so that I can get this damn magic seal removed from my arm and be about my business. Now where is he?"
"He's right here", a gruff voice rumbled behind him. Marcello turned to see a large muscular man leaning against the wall, his arms folded and his eyes scrutinizing Marcello very studiously. He was wearing brown leather pants and a shirt and a pair of boots that looked to have been made out of some sort of animal's skin. His head was framed by long, wild brown hair that seemed to frizz out in every direction and looked filthy, but even the wildness of his hair did not surpass the wild look of his eyes, which looked cruel and had a predatory-like glare to them.
"Oh give me a break, Nyoko", Iylea said, rolling her eyes. "I don't even know why you would even try to say that crap right in front of the rest of us." She then turned to address Marcello. "Marc, this guy is not the leader of the gang. He just likes to pretend he is. Our leader's name is Ashe. This guy is Nyoko, the second in command to Ashe. He's not as good a thief as Hewitt and I are, he can't fix anything like Abner can, and unlike Chloe he can't count past five. But he does have the smelliest armpits in the gang, so I guess he's the best at something."
"Shut yer cake-hole, Iylea", Nyoko growled threateningly at Iylea as he started walking towards the group. "Don't think that just 'cause Ashe favors you that I'm gonna take any crap from you. And don't think that you bein' an elf makes you so special I won't knock you on yer ass. Ashe ain't here to protect you now. You'd do well to remember that." He stopped right in front of Marcello and looked him up and down, sizing him up. "So, you're the famous Marcello, eh?", he said gruffly. "Hmph. You sure don't look like much. Anyway, Ashe ain't here. And when Ashe ain't here, that means I'm the one in charge. So if it's the 'leader' yer lookin' for, ye've found him."
Marcello merely looked Nyoko up and down with calm disdain. "Good for you", he responded in a tone that revealed how clearly unimpressed he was. "Tell me, Mr. 'Leader', do you know how to remove a magic seal?"
"Wot if I did?", Nyoko said with a nasty smirk. "Wot would it be worth to ya?"
"Well, it really doesn't matter, seeing as how you don't know how to remove a magic seal", Iylea said exasperatedly. "Seriously, do you always have to be such a jerk?"
"I thought I told you to shut the hell up", Nyoko snarled at Iylea in a menacing voice. "Don't test me, elf. I'm warnin' you."
"The name's not 'elf'. It's Iylea", Iylea responded hotly. "And you're not being very polite to our guest. I wonder what Ashe would say if he knew how rude you were being right now?"
"That's it. I'm gonna shut you up myself, ya stupid pointy-eared bimbo", Nyoko growled. He started advancing towards Iylea… and stopped in surprise when Marcello smoothly stepped right in his path, blocking his way.
"Now that's no way to talk to a lady, is it?", Marcello said in a quiet and chilly tone. The move surprised Nyoko so much that he actually took a couple of steps backward. "Did you leave your manners back at the pig trough you were born in?"
"Huh? Are you challengin' me?", Nyoko asked, looking at Marcello as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Wot are you, daft or sumefin'? I'll skin you alive!"
It was at that instant that a tense silence fell over the entire group. Iylea and the rest of the gang stood and watched intently as Marcello and Nyoko faced off, silently staring each other down. They marveled in disbelief at the level of Nyoko's ignorance. Sure, he was strong, and not that many people they knew could stand up to him in a fight. But now he was facing off against Marcello, the very same man who killed the leader of the Blood Shadow gang. Lord Absom was once a powerful man who had been considered by many to be arguably the most dangerous man alive. But no more, as Marcello had easily taken that title by single-handedly reducing the dark wizard into nothing more than a murder victim. And now here was Nyoko, standing nose to nose with Marcello and actually trying to be intimidating. Everyone else there knew that for all the danger he was stupidly placing himself in, Nyoko might as well have run a sword through his own gullet and been done with it.
"Ah, Nyoko?", Abner said nervously, cutting into the silence. "Maybe you'd better just back off. Seriously."
"Wot? Me? Back down from this little minnow?", Nyoko sneered at Abner in response. "You hafta be joshin' me. Just stand back and watch how a real man does things." Nyoko then returned his attention to Marcello. "As for you, you fat piece of sow dung, you'd do well to mind yer own business. I'm the boss 'round here, and how I choose to… discipline my underlings ain't no concern of yers. Now move outta my way."
"You don't have any underlings around here", Chloe snapped irritably. Nyoko had already gotten on her nerves. "Now why don't you back down and get your testosterone in check before you get annihilated?"
"Yeah, seriously", Iylea chimed in. "Do you even realize who you're messing with?"
"Shut up! All of ya!", Nyoko yelled, getting angry. "I don't give a damn 'bout who this little punk is! And I don't care how strong everybody thinks he is, either! I don't back down from nobody!" He then reached out and grabbed Marcello by his collar. "Now shift, skivvy!"
At that instant, an odd and overwhelming mixture of anger and delight exploded from Marcello's chest and reverberated throughout his entire body. He looked down at where Nyoko had foolishly grabbed him by his shirt, then up at Nyoko's face. Slowly his lips stretched into a cold and malicious grin…
Captain Bathos stood on the deck of Empyria's Wing and waited as his subordinate Templars prepared the ship for cast-off. As instructed by Abbot Angelo, Bathos had only brought along a few of his most trusted men; enough to make their group a formidable force but just small enough so that they will escape wide notice. Pretty soon he would set sail for New Purgatory Island, on his way to carry out the most important mission the abbot had ever given him during his career as Templar Captain. Bathos knew how crucial this matter was to the abbot. And he knew why, too. If the tales the elf king Ulard told the abbot were true and the abbot's brother was indeed free and out there running loose, then that would mean that anyone who had ever crossed Marcello at one time or another could be in mortal danger, Abbot Angelo and Lord High Priest Rolo included. That's why the abbot wanted Bathos to sail to the prison island, confirm with his own eyes whether or not King Ulard had been telling the truth, and sail back and give his report as quickly as possible. If Marcello was truly on the lam, Angelo did not want any more time than necessary to go by before he started the hunt for his dangerous brother.
One of Bathos' men ran up to him and saluted. "Captain, preparations are finished. We are ready to depart anytime, sir", he said.
"Good. Weigh anchor. We set sail immediately", Bathos responded.
The templar saluted again and went to relay the message. Moments later Empyria's Wing was sailing off into the deep blue sea, on its way to New Purgatory Island. Bathos stood dutifully at the helm and gazed off into the horizon. Soon he would reach the infamous prison and see for himself whether or not King Ulard had been telling the truth to the abbot. He really hoped with all his heart that the mysterious elf king had been lying. Because if he hadn't, then Bathos knew he was in for one horrific scene when he reached his destination.
Nyoko cried out in pain as his spine and the back of his head hit the brick wall behind him at full force. He fell to his knees, struggling for breath and clutching his abdomen where Marcello had brutally kicked him. He looked up to see Marcello standing in front of him, still grinning in malicious delight. "You… you bastard", he growled as he rose slowly off the ground, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "You'll pay for that." Iylea, Chloe, Hewitt and Abner were gathered around them in a circle, watching the lopsided fight between Marcello and Nyoko. Iylea was cheering Marcello on like a fourth grader watching a schoolyard tussle at recess. Even Hewitt and Abner, who at first had no desire to see any bloodshed, now seemed to have lost all their nervousness as they egged on the fight with loud cheers. Only Chloe, who stood there with her arms folded as she shook her head and glared at the two fighting men, seemed displeased with the situation.
"Yeah! Get him, Marc! Show that bitch what he's made of!", Iylea crowed delightedly from the sidelines.
"Holy crap! Did you see how hard Nyoko hit that wall?", Hewitt said in wonder.
"Yeah! I think I heard an echo!", Abner replied with a laugh. "It's a wonder he's still conscious! Hey, I got two bucks that says Marcello wins! Any takers?"
"Yeah, right. Like anyone's stupid enough to bet on Nyoko winning", Hewitt retorted. "No thanks. You're not getting my two bucks that easily."
Nyoko growled as he glared hatefully at Marcello, who merely stood there grinning back at him. "You're a dead man", he snarled, shaking with barely-contained rage. "Nobody, and I do mean nobody, walks up in this hideout and disrespects me." With that, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a switch blade. With a flick of his wrist, the blade came out with a snap.
"Oh geez", Hewitt and Abner said in unison, getting nervous again.
"Alright, this has gone on long enough", Chloe said in a sharp and angry voice. "Will the both of you please stop the macho bullcrap before somebody gets hurt?"
"He ain't just gonna get hurt", Nyoko said as he looked at Marcello with bloodlust in his eyes. "He's about to get dead." Nyoko started to advance towards Marcello, who's smile hadn't faltered one bit. He just continued to stand there and grin at Nyoko, an almost polite interest in his eyes. Marcello's impudent calmness seemed to enrage Nyoko. "Let's jes see how cocky you are with all yer innards layin' on the floor", he almost yelled.
"Hold it right there, Nyoko", Iylea said as she suddenly stepped quickly in front of Nyoko, blocking his way. "No fair using knives. Just because you're getting your ass handed to you in a fair fight doesn't give you the right to pull a weapon. Now why don't you back off, you big dipsh…"
"Get the hell outta my way!", Nyoko roared as he swept his arm in a wide sweeping arc, catching Iylea with a brutal backhand and sending her spinning as she fell to the ground. At that very instant, everything seemed to move in slow motion for Marcello. His face grew red-hot and the metallic taste of his own blood filled his mouth as his anger instantly morphed into unbridled rage. With a flash and before he even knew that he was moving, his arm snaked out with blinding speed as he grabbed Nyoko's wrist. Two small, hollow cracks could be heard as Marcello swiftly twisted his hand right and then left. Nyoko howled in agony and dropped the switchblade as he pulled back, trying to liberate his now-broken wrist from Marcello's grasp. But Marcello wasn't letting Nyoko off so easily. He yanked Nyoko towards him as he stuck out his knee, catching the foolish thug right under his ribs and forcing the wind out of him. Nyoko didn't even have time to gasp in pain before Marcello brought his leg up and kicked Nyoko square in his face so hard the echo of the impact between Marcello's boot and Nyoko's forehead sounded throughout the room. Nyoko went cart wheeling backwards and was already unconscious before the back of his body hit the brick wall behind him and he slumped to the floor.
Marcello stood there and stared at him, wondering if it would be worth his while to finish the fool off while he was down. After a few seconds he decided Nyoko probably wasn't even worth the half-second it would take to murder him and turned his back on his unconscious victim, and found himself looking at the expression of awe on Iylea's face and the expressions of alarm on the faces of Chloe, Hewitt, and Abner.
Iylea got up off the ground, dusted herself off, and grinned at Marcello. "Alright! You go, Marc!", she said, clearly impressed and appreciated with how quickly and skillfully Marcello dealt with Nyoko. The rest of the gang, however, were clearly unprepared for the show of utter brutality they had witnessed, as they kept looking back and forth between Marcello and Nyoko's bloodied, senseless form. Before anyone else could say anything the sound of clapping was suddenly heard coming from the entrance to the room. Everyone, including Marcello, turned and looked to see a man standing in the doorway of the room clapping his hands. The man was almost as tall as Nyoko. He had long blonde hair, keen ice-blue eyes, and wore a tan, sleeveless shirt and a plain-looking pair of blue pants. He wore no shirt under the first one, showing off his well-muscled arms and hardened chest. He wore a black leather belt, and at is side hung a scabbard from which jutted the fancy-looking hilt of a rapier. The man studied Marcello with his shrewd eyes very carefully.
"Very impressive", the man said in a tone full of authority as he finally stopped clapping. "I must say, it's not every day I meet somebody capable of beating the crap out of someone like Nyoko. Of course, considering who you are, I'd have been surprised if you weren't able to totally kick Nyoko's ass.."
"Who are you?", Marcello asked, studying the man as carefully as the man was studying him.
"Hey, boss! How've ya been!", Abner suddenly called out cheerfully. The nervousness that was on his face after he witnessed Marcello's brutal performance a moment earlier was not at all present in his voice as he happily greeted the strange blonde man.
"Boss! It's great to see ya!", Iylea chimed in, just as cheerfully. She then turned to Marcello. "Marc, this is Ashe. The guy I told you about."
"I told you not to call me Marc", Marcello growled through his teeth at Iylea. He then turned to address the blonde man. "So, you are Ashe, the leader of this 'gang'."
"Guilty as charged", Ashe replied with an exaggerated, sweeping bow. "And I must say, it's an honor to meet you, Marcello."