Chapter 20: A Dragon’s Honor

The two titanic Dragons battled for several days, destroying mountains, creating earthquakes and tsunamis. And yet, all the damage seemed to be diverted away from the settlements, as if some benevolent force was protecting us. The cataclysmic duel finally ended with the Black Dragon retreating, and the White Dragon standing victorious. Though the creature was not standing for very long as it soon collapsed from its wounds sustained in the battle.

“I’m telling you, Thomas,” said Ryan for the third time. “You and I played hooky yesterday and met a mysterious old guy named Zand and his dog, Green Eyes.”

            “Who cares if she has green eyes,” said Nanny Eliza as she vacuumed quietly in Thomas’ room. “I have beautiful, brown eyes, dearie! Care to look for yourself.”

            The old hag got nose to nose with Ryan, fluttering her eyelashes furiously. He tried to gently push her away, but the old lady possessed surprising strength as she resisted. 

Just my luck that Thomas has the same cleaning lady as I do! But then again, maybe she and Cedric clean all the rooms on this floor.

The residential building was less a building and more like a massive tree with artificial environment systems in place. Thomas’ room wasn't much different from Ryan’s, with its simple furnishings and small bed, save for the holo-projections of his family scattered throughout the room.

Cedric stood in the corner with his arms crossed and a blank expression. As Ryan finally pried Nanny Eliza away, he made the oddest gesture yet involving flapping his arms like a chicken and bending over to play drums on his knees.

Nanny Eliza nodded and said, “I couldn’t agree more, Cedric. How eloquent of you to say so.”

As for Thomas, he sat in bed while being spoon-fed porridge by a serving droid, clearly accustomed to the pampered lifestyle. For the past ten minutes, Ryan had been desperately trying to convince Thomas of their encounter outside the Ministry with Zand and his dog. If he were being honest, Ryan started having his own doubts on whether it really happened or not. 

            In between mouthfuls of porridge, Thomas managed to say, “I’m pretty sure that I would remember seeing a dog. I’ve always wanted a dog, but I heard that they were all gone now, at least the regular ones from Earth. And besides, if we really did play hooky yesterday, why are neither of us listed as absent? I remember going to class. I don’t remember playing with a dog, but a snow cone does sound good. Do you have one with you?”

            “Forget about the snow cone, Thomas. I’m Master Uruks, remember … and as Master Uruks, I say that there is some kind of conspiracy going on around here.”

            That did it! Ryan knew the little snot had a weakness for conspiracy theories and mystery novels.

“Yes Master Uruks, sir!”

            Thomas gave his customary salute just as the droid tried to give him another helping of porridge, only to have the bowl knocked from its metal claws and all over Thomas’ face. To his credit, he didn't break salute.

The droid waved its pinchers hysterically, speaking in a mechanical, deadpan voice. “No! My Porridge! No! You Monsters! No!”

Thomas ignored the porridge on his face and the distressed droid as he said, “So what are we going to do about it?”

            Before Ryan could answer, Nanny Eliza came back with a vengeance. “Oh, a mystery! Cedric and I just love mysteries, don’t we Cedric?”

            Cedric blew up his cheeks, patted them with his hands to make farting noises, and then slapped himself really hard in the face several times. After repeated slapping that left red marks on his cheeks, Cedric made a weird facial gesture that might've been a smile and gave a thumbs-up.  

And I thought that some aliens I’ve met were weird.

            Nanny Eliza laughed and said, “Oh Cedric, you have a way with words.” Then Eliza started nuzzling up close to Ryan in the way that made him want to throw up. “Plus, it will give us time to get better acquainted while we’re cracking the case. Hm hm hm.”

            Quickly swallowing the vomit that threatened to come up his throat, Ryan devised a plan almost immediately. “Actually, there is something you and Cedric can do for us. While me and Thomas are looking for clues out there, we need you looking for clues in here. And then we’ll meet up and see if we can put the pieces together.”

            Nanny Eliza flecked her fingers together as she considered Ryan’s request. “What will we be looking for exactly?”

            “Anything! Specifically, stuff that has to do with the trouble between the Ministries of Fire and Water. While you’re at it, see if you can dig up anything on the rumors I’ve heard about other candidates going missing. Something tells me that all the weird stuff that's been happening to me has something to do with it.”

            Ryan's curiosity wasn't a new development, but his encounter with Zand seemed to jumpstart his need to know more. Maybe it stemmed from his lack of knowledge on his parents. Whatever the reasons, Ryan knew his thirst for knowledge was far from being quenched. However gross he found the old housemaid; she could prove useful in unraveling the mysteries that surrounded the Ministry of Fire.

            “It’s perfect. You and Cedric go into everyone’s rooms. You're the groundskeepers for the entire residential building for the Grunts. I bet you guys could overhear a lot of things that you’re not supposed to.”

            “You’re right about that, dearie; me and Cedric have lots of connections in this place,” said Nanny Eliza, her gray eyes glinting wickedly. She was starting to sound like the nana mafia. Ryan almost thought he'd won her over, until she frowned and asked, “But what’s in it for me, dearie?”

            Ryan grimaced. “Uh … what do you want?”

            Eliza batted her hideous eyelashes. “A kiss.”

            “On the cheek only … and only if you get me something I can use … something to explain all the weird stuff that has been going on with me recently,” answered Ryan queasily, wanting to barf, burn his clothes and lie in a bathtub to wash away the horror.

            Nanny Eliza considered for a moment, and then said, “Deal.”

            She and Cedric left through the doors that dissolved and reappeared in a shower of flames.

            Ryan breathed out a sigh of relief as he collapsed onto Thomas’ bed. “Finally!”

            Thomas started cleaning the porridge off his face. The droid calmed down a bit too as it buzzed about in the kitchen making more food. “Okay, but what are you and I suppose to do?”

            “We’re going to get to the bottom of all this. First, we’re going to the classroom to check the files for any signs of tampering, and then we’re going to ask around for anyone who has seen an old man with a white dog, or possibly a lion made out of fire.”

            Thomas frowned, a little confused. “Why are we looking for a fiery lion?”

            Ryan shook his head, already thinking of all the people they could ask to dig up some information. “I’ll tell you later. What is most important right now is that you and I get to the bottom of the mystery that is the Ministry of Fire.”

Mystery solving wasn't as fun as it looked in the soap operas. It involved a lot of walking and talking to strangers, asking them awkward questions that contributed to an overall uncomfortable atmosphere. Everyone Ryan talked to had about the same answer for him.

            “No, I haven’t seen a dog,” and “You saw a fiery lion? You should probably get that looked at, kid,” or “Scram, Grunts.”

            Several people mentioned something about a few Grunts going missing over the past few months, but nothing that had anything to do with Zand or the tensions between the Ministries. It would seem that adults had no patience for children simply trying to find the answers to all existence. To make matters worse, Tyrant had made another escape from Ryan’s room and currently pecked his head without mercy. It was baffling how the feathered fiend always managed to circumvent Ryan’s quarters and find him no matter where he went in a Ministry bigger than many cities.

            At least Thomas seemed to be having a good time with the obnoxious hawk around. “Heh! Your bird is funny, Ryan.”

            “You know what else is funny?” said Ryan through clenched teeth. “Blowing up a kid’s pants and watching him run around with his buns on fire.”

            “Hey, Master Uruks,” said Thomas excitedly, oblivious to Ryan's threats. “After we solve the mystery, do you think you can teach me how to blow up a chair?”

            Ryan ignored the question and quickened his pace, forcing little Thomas to almost jog to keep up. They trudged through an open field in one of the yellow tree forests. Scorch marks littered the grounds from training exercises, leading Ryan to believe that they had come to some kind of sparring field.

Ryan stopped as a shadow came down upon them. Tork the Dragon descended ahead of them in a graceful arc. Even after Ryan’s revelation with Zand, just seeing the Dragon brought on intense emotions … a mixture of fear, despair, and anger. Tyrant screeched and then flew off Ryan’s shoulder, as if sensing his displeasure. The negative emotions threatened to overpower his senses, but he quickly wrenched them under control as he addressed the Dragon in a forced voice.

“Tork.”

The Dragon smiled awkwardly and spoke in his fancy accent. “Ryan. So good to see you, old chum. Lovely weather we're having. Yes, I don’t fancy we’ll be getting a spot of rain, you know … since we live in a dome and all; but between you and I, we rather need it. These Elemental fellows are rather dry if you know what I mean,” joked Tork uncomfortably

Ryan took a good long look at the Dragon standing in front of him and tried to defeat his anger with logic. This was not one of the Dragons that had murdered his family and thrown his life into ruin. In fact, he looked nothing like those Dragons. Before Ryan lost his parents, Dragons were his favorite creatures in all the universe. The Dragons were considered to be the oldest and wisest creatures most closely associated with Elemency. Seeing Tork now, Ryan tried to let that childlike wonder take flight again.

Dragons came in all shapes and sizes: some as small as a cat walking on all fours, others as big as a house. Tork fell in the category of the man-sized Dragons. He stood on two legs, was a little shorter than Grafael, and seemed extremely timid, shying away from Ryan as if expecting an attack.

Tork was similar to Grafael in many ways, though he had a slightly longer snout more like a wolf’s nozzle. Long, spiky ears sat at the back of his head, moving with the rhythm of the Dragon’s voice as if indicating his mood. He had two long, white horns going back beside his ears. In between the horns was short black fur going down the back of his neck, similar to a horse’s mane. His most distinguishing features were the bat-like wings on his shoulders, and a tail with spikes protruding from it. If he stretched his wings as far as they would go, they surpassed the length of his body. His golden tail was at least as long as he was tall and looked very powerful, though it wasn’t quite as thick as Grafael’s blue tail.

Tork wore leather pants and a twin strap across his chest that held his sword and shield on his back in between his wings, but that was about all he wore. His eyes were bright, with gold irises that seemed to glow slightly with a concealed energy that reminded Ryan of fire.

Unlike the Dragons that attacked Ryan’s village, Tork’s scales were gold, much like Ryan’s, and he had a look about himself that almost seemed nervous and kindly. Judging by the luster of his scales, Tork was fairly young for a Dragon, about in his adolescent years, but even so, he possessed an aura about him that seemed majestic and noble.

Despite the fact that Ryan had let his inner child out to enjoy the wonder at seeing a real live Dragon in the flesh, the anger had not vanished. In fact, it seemed to be getting stronger. Even now, Ryan couldn't bring himself to trust this creature.

Ryan gave his best, fake smile and said, “Look, Tork. I’ve thought about it, and I am really sorry for what happened earlier.”

Tork waved his clawed hand nonchalantly. “Oh, pish-posh. Water under the bridge, I always say. I just want to avoid drama as much as I can.”

Ryan tried to be polite, but it was difficult with all the dark memories rushing into his head. Ryan's mind flashed back to that of the big Black Dragon that grinned wickedly at him, showing off its yellow fangs. Images of winged creatures tearing people apart and devouring them as they screamed in terror and agony danced across Ryan’s mind as his fists clenched.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” answered Ryan, still smiling politely.

Tork then leaned in closer and cupped a hand to his mouth to whisper. “Listen. Grafael told me that the two of you had a bit of a sparring match earlier. I’ve never been as good at martial arts as Grafael. Personally, I’ve always considered myself to be a creature of intellect rather than brute force.

“But then as a scholar, I must explore all facets of life, and not just that of the mind.” Tork twiddled his clawed fingers nervously. “I was wondering if you’d mind all too much if we became sparring partners, you and me. I’m a Dragon, so I can teach you about Fire Elemency. In return, maybe you can help me brush up on my physical skills. What is it that humans say? I scratch your back, you scratch mine, what-ho, and all that ‘yank’ rubbish, what-not.”

As politely as he could, Ryan said, “I’ll have to think about it, Tork, but I’ll let you know.”

Tork flapped his wings ecstatically, buffing Ryan with wind and propelling the Dragon a few feet off the ground. “Oh, Jolly Good! Jolly, jolly good! We’ll make for quite the merry band you and I, Ryan old boy.” 

The Dragon flapped his mighty wings as if to leave, but then turned around like he'd forgotten something. “Oh, yes. That reminds me. Ryan, I want you to have something.” The Dragon handed Ryan a golden arm bracelet with three rubies of green, red, and silver.

“This is an heirloom of my people. In ancient times, we would present these tokens as peace offerings after a long and painful conflict. The jewels represent the three elements that bind us altogether no matter what planet we are from. The Mind, Body, and Soul. It’s part of the ancient teachings of all Dragons.”

With one push of his strong wings, Tork took to the air. The Dragon was gone and out of sight in seconds, already miles away in nearly no time at all.

Ryan just stood there for a long time holding the bracelet, uncertain of how he should feel.

“Uh, master, are you okay?” Thomas asked.

“Don’t know, kid. Don’t know much these days,” Ryan answered honestly as he studied the bracelet.

After the longest time thinking, Ryan decided to give Tork the benefit of the doubt and accept his attempts to make amends. He wasn’t sure what three elements that Tork talked about since there were already four basic elements, but he figured that it must be some Dragon mumbo-jumbo and didn’t pay it any mind. Ryan turned to Thomas to leave when he caught sight of Hamma Steel in the distance running towards them at top speed.

            “Ryan!” he yelled. “Drop that bracelet!”

            No sooner had he heard Hamma's warning did the bracelet start glowing red in his hands. Instinctively, Ryan threw away the bracelet just as it exploded. As the inferno raced towards him, threatening to engulf him, Ryan’s initial thought was to outrun the fires, but then he immediately recognized the danger to Thomas and stepped between him and the explosion. Ryan raised his hands to channel the fiery storm that roared towards them.

Ryan had never been good at manipulating fire that wasn’t of his own making, and he still sometimes burned himself with his own flames, but that didn’t stop him from trying. Ryan tried to force the flames to bend around him and Thomas, but the force of the explosion was too strong. Ryan was thrown from his feet and flew several dozen feet in the opposite direction, denting the ground with his body. 

Ryan's vision blurred and he almost lost consciousness. Thankfully, Hamma Steel appeared moments later and shook him awake.

As Ryan focused on Hamma’s face, the man sighed with relief. “Thank the Lord Caretaker you're alive.”

            After letting loose a slight groan while rubbing his throbbing skull, Ryan's delirium almost made him forget about his companion. “Where’s Thomas? Is he okay?” asked Ryan, his eyes scanning the field for any signs of the plump youth.

            “Don’t worry, Ryan. He’s fine thanks to you,” said Hamma with approval as he nodded a few feet away where Thomas lay resting. “I checked him myself. He looked shaken up, but I think he'll be okay.”

            Ryan finally allowed himself to breathe as he caught sight of the youth. “That’s good to hear. I'd never forgive myself if that kid died.”

Ryan then realized something even more crucial, something that he'd always known to be true, but had tried to deny it with compassion and logic. “Tork wants to kill me!”

            Hamma nodded grimly. “Yes, it would seem so.”

            “Why?”

            Hamma scratched his chin. “I suspect that he's in league with the Ministry of Water.”

            “The Ministry of Water?” repeated Ryan incredulously.

            “Yes! No doubt you’ve heard the rumors about the tensions mounting between Water and Fire. I suspected that they might make a move against some of the more promising candidates, and I’ve had my eye on Tork for a while now. I saw him tampering with that gem before he gave it to you. Dragons possess Fire Elemency naturally, and they are usually much more adept with it than humans. He must have placed a psionic trap on it to activate after it had left his possession.”

             “But why now, and why me?”

            “I would think the answer is obvious. Did you not see where Tork just happened to run into you? This is the training field for the Fire Elementals. Training is over for the day, but occasionally, some Elementals come to train after hours, so no one would pay any attention to explosions coming from this area of the Ministry.

“No one was around. It was the perfect opportunity. Though Tork’s plan didn’t work, and you have no proof, so it'll just be your word against his. Thomas won't count for much either, being both a child as well as being partial to you. As for why he chose you, that is less clear. I don't know if you heard, but a few Grunts have disappeared from the academy in recent months. You might have just been his next target in a long line of victims. More than that though, I suspect that this may have something to do with the first Dragon attack against you.”

            Ryan’s voice lowered to a dark tone. “You think he was one of the Dragons who killed my family?”

            “It’s possible. Even the Space Dragons are not completely without blame, and they have been known to switch over to the Black Dragons’ side from time to time. I guess when you get down to it, they’re still Dragons, and all Dragons are about the same. They can spout all the morals they want, but in the end, they only look after their own benefit.”

            Still feeling numb, Ryan rose to his feet and limped slowly to Thomas' side. He placed a hand on the boy's head, brushing back strands of his hair. Though his eyes were closed, the boy's chest rose and fell with steady breathing.

            “Don't worry about the boy,” said Hamma. "I'll take him to the hospital wing.”

            Ryan only nodded grimly. With murder on his mind, Ryan spoke in a cold voice. “I’ll take care of Tork then. It’s time my family’s blood was avenged.”

            Hamma took hold of Ryan’s arm. “I understand how you feel, but we have to think this through if you want to catch the likes of Tork. Dragons are clever. If we don’t do this the right way, Tork will get away and be free to kill again.”

            Ryan turned his glare on Hamma, which made the man inch back slightly. With a voice full of malice, Ryan said, “What do you propose we do then?”

            “Well, we can’t go to the other Elementals about this. That will just tip off Tork that we’re on to him and he’ll vanish without a trace. I know because escapes are one of his specialties being a Dragon. The only sure way to catch Tork is to set up a meeting with him.”

            Ryan shook his head in disbelief. “Why would Tork agree to a meeting after he just tried to torch me?”

            “Think about it,” explained Hamma. “Once he knows that you're alive, he’ll do everything in his power to finish his mission. Psionic traps are not always reliable. He doesn’t know for sure whether the bomb went off or not, or even if you know who he really is. If you call him up and arrange a meeting, he'll show up for the chance to get you alone. However, this time I will be there to back you up. We’ll trick him or force him to confess his crimes. In any case, it’s the only sure way to be certain that he does not escape.”

            It should be easy to arrange since I have the excuse that Tork invited me to a training session already. Probably did it as insurance in case the bomb didn’t go off.

Ryan turned back to Hamma with cold resolve. “I don’t want you to interfere. I’ll deal with him alone.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

It all went down as Hamma predicted. Ryan sent Tork a message through the medallions, asking to meet him at the arena where he dueled Grafael for training, and Tork - obviously eager to finish the job - accepted. Night had fallen, complementing Ryan's dark mood. After he proved the Dragon’s treachery and made him pay for his crimes, he would finally feel vindication. The time had come to get some bloody satisfaction for the evil done to him all those years ago.

Despite his thoughts of vengeance, he still found himself shaking. He had never killed anyone in cold blood before … he never killed before, period. Even when he had the chance to smoke that scumbag, Shaver Creed, it just felt wrong somehow. But this was no petty street punk with a bad attitude. This was a Dragon with the intention to bring the Ministry of Fire to its knees. Tork was far too dangerous to be granted mercy. Of all people, Ryan knew the damage that a Dragon could do.

            And yet, despite Ryan’s resolve, it still felt wrong to kill Tork. True, it would be unwise to kill him right off the bat until they had forced a confession out of him, but it felt more than that. Almost like someone whispered in his ear not to go through with it.

Ryan shook his head to silence such distracting thoughts. He could ill afford to lose focus now with so much at stake. Tork was a Dragon after all, a young and inexperienced Dragon maybe, but a dangerous killer nonetheless. He wouldn't go down easily. As much as Ryan hated the thought of it, he would probably need Hamma’s help to finish the job. Hamma stayed behind in the shadows, not only as backup, but to record the conversation with an old-fashion camera phone, something so low-tech that Tork would never suspect it.

But when we do confirm his guilt, do I really have to kill him? Couldn’t we just hand him over to the authorities? Hamma himself agreed that it would be best to kill Tork once he'd been captured, otherwise, it would just complicate things in the future. Tork would claim the protection of the Ministry of Water, and then the Imperial Court would get involved to settle a dispute between the Ministries. And while they're busy deciding what to do with him, he would use his contacts with Black Dragons to stage an escape.

“Besides,” Ryan remembered Hamma telling him. “Do you really want to let someone else execute him? As far as I can tell, there's no person more justified to kill him than you. I already told you he's in league with the Black Dragons that slaughtered your family. Can you honestly say to me that you don’t want to see him dead for what he’s done?”

            “No,” whispered Ryan to himself.

Steeling himself for what came next, Ryan ground his feelings that made him weak into dust. In his heart, Ryan knew that when the time came, he wouldn't hesitate to give Tork the same courtesy that he bestowed upon the people of Toramirese colony. With his back leaned up against a wall in the shadows, Ryan waited, and not too patiently at that. With each passing second, Ryan grew more agitated.

What if he knows it’s a trap? What if he shows up with an army of Black Dragons to back him up? Or worse, what if he doesn’t come at all?

As Ryan’s breathing became acute and his heart rate intensified, he almost signaled Hamma to call it off, but then he saw a dark shape falling from the sky. It reminded him of the black-scaled creatures that dropped from the clouds on his birthday. But this time would be different. This time, Ryan was the hunter.

Tork dropped to the ground with a confused expression on his lizard face. Ryan stepped out of the shadows. As Tork focused his glowing eyes on Ryan, he smiled warmly, as if they were the best of friends and he really wasn’t planning on killing Ryan and all his teammates without mercy.

Look at him! Keeping up the pretense right up until he tries to bite my throat out!

As Ryan smiled through his gritted teeth, he became angrier by the second just thinking of all the horrible things that Tork would do if left unchecked. Ryan could just see Tork finishing off poor Thomas, helpless in his hospital bed. And then he would go after the rest of Squad 99 before they became suspicious. It would be easy, especially for a monster like him with such devastating weapons at his disposal.

He could bite out Grafael’s throat while he slept, burn Leon to a crisp while he trained, not that the guy didn’t deserve it. Then he might strangle poor, jealous Rachel with his tail. And Éclair, just thinking of all the things that he could do to Éclair made Ryan almost lose all control. It took all of Ryan’s willpower to keep the fake smile on his face until the right moment to strike.

“Ryan, old bean,” said Tork with his strange accent. “How good of you to make it. I am so looking forward to our time together. Let’s give ‘em what for … what, what.”

So far, everything’s transpired as predicted. Hamma said that Tork won’t make a move until our session begins so that he can claim it to be nothing more than a training accident. 

“Hey Tork, before we get started, there's something I wanted to ask,” said Ryan as he subtly walked to the center of the arena.           

“Eh? I suppose that’s fair. Alright governor, what is it you wish to enquire?” asked Tork as he walked alongside Ryan.

“What did you do before you became an ally of the Ministry of Fire?” asked Ryan innocently, coming to a stop.

            Tork's face went slack in shock, and that’s when Ryan knew without a shadow of a doubt that all his suspicions had just been confirmed. Ryan half-expected Tork to drop the pretense and attack him then and there, but instead he lowered his head and spoke in a voice that was no longer cheerful.

“What is it you would like to know, specifically?”

            Ryan didn't know why he kept it going, but if the charade kept the Dragon off his guard, so much the better. “Well, I just heard a rumor of when you left your homeworld to join the Ministry … only the rumor mentioned you tagging along with a different group before you showed up here.”

            Tork rubbed his shoulder in discomfort, as if he actually had a trace of shame for all the horrible crimes he committed. With a sigh of despair, Tork finally raised his face to Ryan with eyes so sad that Ryan almost forgot he was acting.

            “Well, I guess you’ve already figured it out by now, Ryan, so I might as well tell you.” Tork's voice broke slightly, making his guilt all the more apparent. “I was young and fed up with my family. I wanted to go out on my own and live a life free of responsibility. I had a few friends who left the homeworld as well to join with the Black Dragons.

“They kept in touch and said they were having the time of their lives, the life I had always dreamed of … a life of complete freedom. So I joined them. The Black Dragons still accept a few volunteers from the homeworld every now and then.”

            Tork swallowed as if he couldn’t bear to say what happened next. “To answer the question that you obviously want to ask … yes, I was there at the Massacre of Toramirese.”

            Ryan’s smile vanished as all his hate and pain built over five years came to a boil. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

            And then, with a snap of his fingers, Ryan released his restraint of the three spots on the arena that he touched and stored a portion of his psions in. It all went perfectly. Ryan had gone over and over again in his head where he wanted Tork to be standing and where he himself needed to be so as to avoid the brunt of the explosion.

He made the explosions happen in such a way that they curved inward and left him unharmed. Without Tork even knowing about it, he had maneuvered the Dragon during their conversation to stand at the very center of the explosions, leaving no chance of escape. With three explosions going off consecutively, the sonnet of mayhem commenced.

            And then, all went quiet. The dust started clearing and Ryan perceived the pathetic, wounded form of Tork lying in the middle of the newly formed crater, breathing heavily. Several gash marks had been left on Tork's tail, arms, and wings, blood seeping from the wounds. The blast didn’t kill him, not with those hard scales of his genetically designed to repel fire. Even so, the explosions had been too powerful for even a Dragon to escape unscathed.

Hamma stepped out of the shadows. “Well done, Ryan. That was quite a show. Eramar would be proud.” Hamma's voice lowered. “We have all the evidence we need; time to finish it. You know what to do.”

Hamma then drew out a small Psionic Knife and handed it to Ryan. This was the moment that Ryan awaited for far too long. True, others had a hand in the massacre, but Ryan would find them and exact vengeance ending with the one in the dark cloak.

As if summoned, the dark voice that haunted Ryan’s dreams suddenly whispered in its terrifying voice. That’s right, boy. You know exactly what to do. After all, you’ve done it before, haven’t you?

Ryan didn't know what the voice meant, but he ignored it. It was only a figment of his imagination. No need to acknowledge a figment.

Can you still hear the screams? Can you still feel the fires? Can you still smell the blood? I certainly can. In your heart, can you honestly say that they wouldn't want this … wouldn't want you to have this? Be honest.

Ryan raised Hamma’s knife. He figured that as long as he didn’t put any psionic energy into it, it wouldn’t blow up and he could just use it as a regular knife.

As Ryan walked slowly towards Tork, the Dragon opened a single golden eye and stared right at him. Instead of fighting back or begging for his life, the Dragon just looked sad, but at the same time, strangely satisfied as a tear traced down his cheek.

Ryan now stood right next to Tork’s body. Hamma told Ryan that the best way to kill a Dragon was to stab it in a soft spot under the chin, all other places were too well protected for a mere knife to penetrate. As Ryan knelt down, he couldn’t turn away from Tork. There was so much sorrow in that glowing reptilian eye, so much regret.

What does it matter if he regrets what he's done? He should regret it! It doesn’t change the fact that he did it!

Then he thought he could hear Zand whispering words in place of the dark voice. Act out of compassion, not hatred. Look inside your heart. Look inside his. The eyes are the window to the soul. Tell me what you see. Tell me if you can stand there and think yourself justified for this.

Ryan told himself over and over again that he had to do it, that it was the only way to achieve justice, but something made him question himself. These weren't the eyes of a remorseless monster bent on destruction. Ryan found no hatred in them. The creatures who attacked Ryan’s home were monsters completely ruled by their hate. They didn't possess the eyes of this noble Space Dragon at Ryan’s feet.

Zand’s voice spoke again. See the truth for what it is and not what you want it to be. Let go of your hate. It blinds you, clouds your thinking … turns you into something you’re not.

If these voices don’t stop soon, I’m going to need therapy, thought Ryan with a surprising relapse into humor. As Ryan saw the knife raised over his head, he knew in his heart he couldn't do it. He also knew who was really responsible for hurting Thomas.

With a flick of his wrist, Ryan sent the weapon flying at the person who truly deserved it. Hamma easily caught the knife in midair between his fingers and twirled it around playfully. A cruel smile replaced the once-kind features of the Hamma Steel that Ryan thought he knew.

“So, did you know this whole time, half-breed?” asked Hamma, his voice becoming lower.

“No,” admitted Ryan as he turned to face his real adversary. “I only realized a second ago when I came to my senses and started putting the pieces together.”

Hamma chuckled as if he had just heard a joke that only he could understand. He circled Ryan and Tork like a cat cornering a mouse. “By all means, tell me. I’m dying to know how an incompetent brat like you could see through me so easily.”

Ryan felt a twinge of regret. He always liked Hamma. He trusted him and assumed that the man always had his best interests at heart. If anything, Hamma seemed to be one of the few people who believed in him. To discover the man's true nature was almost too much to bear. But Ryan tried not to dwell on it as he knew the mortal danger that awaited him.

“First, you made it pretty obvious that you didn’t want to tell anyone about this. You’re a Level Three Elemental of the Ministry of Fire. You’re supposed to report on any incident that occurs under your watch, and I’m pretty sure that attempted assassination qualifies.”

Hamma's jaw twisted in suspicion. “That couldn’t have been the only reason. Tork handed you a bomb. There must have been more for you to suspect me.”

Why does he need to know how I figured it out? Well, so long as it keeps him busy long enough for me to come up with a plan, I'll keep going

            “Of course, that wasn't the only reason. True, your actions seemed suspicious, but I was too preoccupied thinking about Tork to give it much thought, something you were counting on. The thing that really got me to thinking just a few seconds ago was when you handed me the knife, expecting me to kill Tork without even getting a full confession out of him,” said Ryan, stalling for time as a plan started formulating.

“Finally, the real reason that I knew it was you who made the bracelet instead of Tork was your chin. It’s pretty hard to see it in daylight, but now, in the dim fading light like the time when we first met, it’s all too clear. So, where are all your mercenary buddies, scar-chin? Gotta say, I miss the cowboy hat.”

In hindsight, Ryan probably should’ve realized it a lot sooner. His body type and careful movements were all identical to the leader of the mercenaries who helped Shaver Creed. Ryan could just imagine the big cowboy hat Hamma wore on the night he tried to kill Auntie Hannah while flanked by his mercenary minions.

Hamma nodded in admiration, slowly rubbing the thin scar on his chin. “Not bad, kid. Whenever Tork has a disagreement with someone, he always gives them one of those bracelets. While he was away from his room, I planted a psionic bomb inside the bracelet made by some Flamers from the Ministry of Water. It’s not like your bombs, where anything you touch can explode. We have to use Sun Gems, but it still gets the job done.”

Hamma brandished the knife in front of him confidently, but Ryan had brought something else with him. He just had to ease it out of his pocket little by little and hope that Hamma wouldn't notice.

Ryan began, “The only thing that I can’t figure out is why. Why I am your target, and if I am, why didn’t you let that bomb kill me?”

Hamma shrugged, but his body language forewarned of the intent to kill as he lowered into a crouch. “Since you’ll soon be dead, I don’t see the harm in telling you. I would hate for you to go to the afterlife with so many questions. I’m just nice like that.” Hamma moved towards Ryan slowly.

“It’s pretty simple, Ryan. You see, I’m what you would call a Mystic. That means I’m a rogue Elemental in case you couldn’t figure it out. I infiltrated the Ministry of Fire under contract by a client from the Ministry of Water; particularly, the records branch in this Ministry. That’s how I found out about you.

“The Ministry kept tabs on you as a possible candidate for Elemental training along with other potentials. My client wished to stifle future Fire Elementals as much as possible, so I hired a few mercenaries with the Preservers as our cover to capture or kill as many as we could.”

Hamma suddenly looked angry as his nostrils flared dangerously. “You were the only one on my list who got away, and I just can’t stand it when my target gets away. It hurts my reputation.” Hamma gripped the dagger so tight that his veins throbbed. He took another step forward, and Ryan backed away.

“At first, I wanted to kill you, but my client insisted on bringing you in alive. Killing is no problem for me … I’ve been getting away with it in here for years … but kidnapping someone already in the Ministry is another story. I figured that the best way to kidnap you was to get you expelled from the Ministry and thus out of their protective custody.

“After your expulsion, the council would send you to a secure location to have your powers suppressed before relocating you to another planet. Since I’m part of the relocation team, taking you while in transit to receive the suppression operation wouldn’t have been a problem. That only left the question of how to get you expelled.”

Hamma placed his hands in front of him, pressing his thumbs to his chin. His demeanor seemed more like a proud scientist giving a thesis rather than a madman giving an evil monologue. “I did some digging and found out the ‘oh-so-tragic’ details of your pitiful past and got the brilliant idea of setting you against Tork here. I hoped they would expel you after I told you where to find Tork the other day, but by some miracle, you escaped by the skin of your teeth.”

The Third then drew in a loud shuddering breath, his jaw clenched in frustration. “I now knew that the only sure way to get you expelled was for you to actually kill him. Loyalty to your comrades is a big thing here, so there was no way they would forgive you for something like that. The only thing left after you did the deed would be to give you a short-term memory wipe so that my name wouldn’t come up. And so, the rest is history. Now that you know, I guess I’ll just have to kill you and find a new client. A little inconvenient for me, but you win some and you lose some, I guess.”

The man said it so casually that Ryan thought he might be insane. Ryan decided not to give Hamma a chance to strike. With his left hand hidden behind his back, Ryan used his right hand to send a fireball flying towards Hamma’s head. Instantly, a wall of water appeared around Hamma like a waterfall and, Ryan’s fire fizzled out.

Hamma chuckled. “I’m sure you already know this, but you’re way out of your league here, kid. I couldn’t use my powers before in order to keep my cover, but that’s no longer necessary. Member of Squad 99 or not, you’re still just a Grunt. You barely have control over one element.”

Hamma held out his arm and Ryan saw three objects spinning in the palm of his hand like a tornado. A small glob of water, a piece of ice, and a tiny cloud of mist.

“I, on the other hand, have control over three. The three elements of water; the water base and its two complementary elements, ice, and mist. Once you reach level three, it becomes possible to learn how to control other elements within your elemental spectrum. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you haven’t even seen my special psionic ability yet.”

Hamma casually flicked his wrist and dozens of knives made out of ice appeared around him, shooting at Ryan like missiles. Ryan jumped to the left just as the projectiles embedded themselves in the wall behind him, but he still got one lodged in his right shoulder. The deadly ice spike was long, and it left a stinging pain that rippled down his arm.

Ryan let his rage guide him as he ripped out the ice shard and threw it at Hamma’s head. Hamma used the Psionic Knife to block it. The ice shard dissolved completely when it touched the blade which shimmered with a faint blue glow.

“A blade with psions flowing though it is sharper than any weapon forged by mortals,” Hamma explained. “Why do you think Elementals go to the trouble of making Psionic Weapons in the first place?”

Hamma dashed at Ryan brandishing the glowing knife, and Ryan thought it would be as good a time as any to try out his plan. Hamma didn't know about the piece of High Oak in his pocket. This particular piece had been carved in the shape of a wooden knife and it was just as sharp.

Ryan tried to use the wooden knife to gut Hamma while he was intent on his kill, but Hamma saw through Ryan’s ruse and dodged at the last moment. Hamma thrust his Psionic Blade at Ryan’s throat and he instinctively held out the wooden knife to block. The knife sliced through the wooden weapon as if it were butter.

Ryan still managed to avoid the brunt of the attack, but Hamma cut a decent foot-long gash across his chest. Ignoring the wound, Ryan tried to swipe at Hamma with a fiery fist from his free hand, but Hamma dodged deftly, striking at Ryan yet again. Ryan distanced himself from Hamma with a jump, but even as he did so, he slipped and landed on his injured shoulder.

Ryan just barely managed to get to his feet as the pain nearly caused him to pass out. Ryan’s training clothes were now drenched in warm, oozing blood. He quickly surmised that he was losing blood too fast from the wounds in his chest and his shoulder. If this fight continued much longer, Hamma wouldn't even have to kill him; he'd just bleed himself to death.

Ryan decided against a close-ranged fight and quickly resorted to long-range tactics with flames. He tried to be conservative with his fireballs so as not to burn himself out again. Nevertheless, every fireball that Ryan threw at Hamma instantly fizzled out from the water shield. Hamma grinned wolfishly as he licked some of Ryan’s blood from the dagger.

You know, if I wasn’t half-dead already, that would really freak me out.

“I’m afraid that a long-ranged battle will be just as futile as close quarters,” counseled Hamma almost sympathetically. “Water elements are naturally superior to fire elements. Eramar might have told you that if he thought you had even a snowball’s chance in hell of becoming an Elemental.”

Despite the pain and exhaustion, Hamma’s words still made Ryan very angry. “Come again?”

Hamma shrugged and spread out his hands. “Look, it’s not like you didn’t give a good effort. But the fact is that you’re no Leon Lurranna. Definitely not an Éclair Kaves. You lack their talent. Don’t blame your teachers. The truth is everyone knew that you never had what it takes to be a real Elemental. They were just too kind to say it, or too cruel depending on your point of view. Personally, I see it as the latter.”

Hamma pointed the end of his knife at Ryan lazily. “You should thank me. In a way, I’m doing you a favor. Better end your life here and now before your complete and utter failure as a Grunt. Then you’d be back on the streets again scrapping for your next meal ticket like the gutter rat that you are.

“Accept it. You never stood a chance in the first place, so what’s the point of this futile struggle of yours? Just let yourself die and you don’t have to feel ashamed of how pathetic you really are. I mean, honestly, the whole point of being an Elemental is to seek out the truth, and you took all my lies as if they were gospel from the Lord Caretaker himself.”

As Hamma’s words reached his ears, Ryan couldn't deny that there existed an element of truth to what the psychopath said. Ryan really wasn't a talented protégé like Leon or Éclair, and he did fall for Hamma’s lies like a doofus. But before he let himself give in to the despair that Hamma wanted to invoke on him, he remembered his promise to his parents and to Hannah Lioness. He remembered the last time he saw his parents; their love for him, and especially their pride for him.

It would really suck if I let myself die right here. That’s just anticlimactic!

So Ryan let Hamma's words fuel his anger instead of his despair. He breathed in deep the smoke from the flames in his right hand, and then raised his head to face Hamma’s cold gray eyes.

Ryan smiled despite the pain and Hamma seemed a little less sure of himself. “Keep talking, pal. I’m just getting started.”

Ryan then pulled out the psions that he had been storing in the High Oak from earlier. This was the one piece that Ryan had managed to keep from bursting into flames. He had completed a little extra training on the side after his encounter with Zand, training that not even Hamma knew about.

Eramar had told Ryan that if he absorbed too many psions from conduits like Sun Gems and High Oak, it would kill him. But since Ryan’s psionic reserves were already spent anyway, he figured that it couldn’t hurt to draw out as much energy as possible from the stick.

Shimmering pink light emanated out of the stick and flowed into Ryan’s arm. Even Hamma took a step back in surprise when Ryan put his hands to the ground and red energy spread out all over the sand-covered arena towards Hamma.

“What the hell are you doing, you little brat?” demanded Hamma, almost sounding scared.

Ryan grinned wickedly. “Just using what I got. You tricked me into using this on Tork. Time you knew how it felt!”

Thanks for being so hard on me, Eramar. I wouldn’t have made it this far otherwise.

A series of explosions from the ground, starting at Ryan’s hands, raced towards Hamma. The Mystic still managed to summon a wall of water to protect him, but this time the water fizzled out. With his water shield destroyed, Hamma jumped out of the way as the explosions continued to roar behind him, but not before his right hand became badly burned. Clutching his newly burned hand tenderly, Hamma yelled in pain and rage as he glared at Ryan from across the arena.

“You snotnosed little shit! I should’ve killed you right off the bat!” Hamma pulled out a bottle of something strange. Black liquid that moved and writhed like it was alive. It even gave off a faint purple light. “I’m done messing around. You want to be an Elemental dog so bad? Fine! You can die like one!”

Hamma swallowed the vile liquid in one gulp, and then a hungry smile twisted his features. “Elementals are a thing of the past. They still use outdated relics like Sun Gems and High Oak. Dark Water is where real power comes from.”

As Hamma spoke, the burns on his hand instantly vanished, as if healed by the Dark Water. Hamma then clapped his hands together, gathering his energies to do something big.

“You still haven’t seen my specialty, kid. Assassination by fog. It may not be as flashy as fire, but it’s a hell of a lot more practical.”

Hamma then spread out his hands and white mist evaporated out of them. The mist spread out until it covered the entire arena. It got so thick that Ryan could hardly see his hand in front of his face, let alone Hamma, who vanished into a white void. Ryan heard Hamma’s cold laugh coming from the dense mist. Panic started to take root as Ryan found himself unable to pinpoint the origin of Hamma's demented laughter. He thought that a little taunting might embolden him.

“Now I know why you mist guys are called Creepers. Seriously, HAM, were you ever a sane human being?”

Hamma just kept laughing. Ryan’s wounds still throbbed, but not as painfully as before. Ryan felt uncertain if that was a good thing or a bad thing, so he just ignored it and tried to pick out Hamma's voice in the mist. The white veil surrounded him, obscuring everything in its wispy shadow.

Wait a minute! If I can’t see him, he can’t see me either, right?

Ryan almost took courage from the thought until a barrage of ice shards embedded themselves into Ryan’s back and forced him to his knees. Through the pain, Ryan guessed that Hamma could sense his presence either from the black liquid that he drank or the psionic ability he mentioned.

Ryan hardly had time to put more thought into it as a ball of water materialized at his feet, and when he tried to move, it kept his training boots firmly in place. He then saw Hamma’s dark form coming for him through the mist, his boots padding across the sand insistently. Ryan desperately tried to summon flames into his hands, but the mist made it too wet to get even a spark.

Then Ryan heard Tork’s voice. “Look out, old boy,” and suddenly a much larger figure crashed into Hamma, and the Dragon cried out, “Huzzah!”

Ryan heard Hamma curse in frustration and then the sound of rushing water. The mist dissipated and Hamma stood over Tork’s crippled form. Ryan lost his breath.

After what I put him through, Tork is risking his life to save me!

Ryan felt sorry for every awful thing that he thought about Tork as he gripped the High Oak, intent on implementing a new plan. Hamma raised his knife to finish off the Dragon, but not before Ryan came at him with the broken stick.

Hamma easily dodged Ryan’s attack and lunged at him with the glowing dagger, confident that his knife would slice through the High Oak as easily as before. Suddenly, the stick in Ryan’s hand grew three feet longer, caught fire, and miraculously broke Hamma’s weapon in half. The plan had worked. Instead of drawing energy from the wooden dagger as he did last time, Ryan poured all his psionic reserves into the weapon. The stick's transformation had been due to receiving Ryan's own spiritual energy.

“Impossible!” shrieked Hamma.

Hamma staggered back in shock while holding the knife, broken at the hilt. Ryan still held the fiery stick in his hands, but it didn't burn.

“Wrong again, HAM! Fire is the power of the sun, the power of life itself. I simply used it as a means to accelerate the growth process in this plant.” As Ryan spoke, his words sounded like they came from someone older and wiser, and much more powerful.

Hamma's face grew deathly pale. “There’s no way your psionic energy is that powerful! No one is that strong! To be able to break a true Psionic Weapon with nothing but a stick! It’s just … it’s not possible!”

Ryan stalked towards Hamma with deliberate steps. He focused all of his remaining psions from his weapon into his head. To an onlooker, it looked like his head had been set on fire with red-hot flames. Eramar taught Ryan that the best way to defeat your opponent was to make him lose his confidence with a show of power.

“You once said that it was impossible for someone like me to become an Elemental … that it was impossible for me to ever be friends with a Dragon. I guess there are a lot of things that are impossible for someone like you, who has already given up on life.” Ryan felt a twinge of pity for the small, pathetic man cringing before him. “But for me, I haven’t even begun to make the impossible things in this universe possible.”

Ryan headbutted Hamma with a force equivalent to a grenade. Hamma crumpled to the ground, a few sparks lighting up his hair. However, Ryan immediately regretted his decision to implement a headbutt as pain equal to a thousand hangovers coursed through his skull.

As Hamma fell to the ground, Ryan screamed, “Ouch! Poor Choice! Very poor choice!”

Extinguishing the flames, Ryan held his forehead with both hands and fell to his knees. But he quickly realized that he had no time for pain, not with a friend in trouble. Ryan wasted no time to help the fallen Dragon as he knelt at his side. Tork’s scales looked pale and his skin was slick with water.

Ryan realized that the Mystic must’ve slammed him with some kind of water attack. Tork had still been bleeding from the earlier explosions, but to have to endure a tsunami on top of that … it might’ve been too much, even for a Dragon to take. Ryan felt despair gripping his heart at the thought that Tork might die after saving a person who tried to kill him. 

“Come on, buddy! Don’t die on me!”

Ryan had never done CPR before, least of all on a giant, fire-breathing reptile, but he quickly sucked up his pride and took the plunge. Tork’s chest was so rock-solid that Ryan had to beat on it with all his might to even get a reaction. Tork’s breath smelled like fish, but Ryan ignored it as he pressed his lips to Tork's snout over and over again.

Sure I can do okay in a fight, but when it comes to saving lives, I’m useless.

“Come on, you can lick this. You’re a Dragon. Dragons are supposed to be one of the most powerful races in the universe.” Ryan felt so helpless as he continued CPR unsuccessfully. “I can’t let you die without telling you how sorry I am for everything. I let my hate blind me to the golden heart that beats in those scales.

“I once idealized Dragons, but after what happened to my family, I felt betrayed and I didn’t want to endure that again. But you can’t die, because I need you to know that I don’t feel that way anymore. You can’t die before we even had a chance to become friends.”

Tork coughed and opened his eyes painfully. “By Jove! Do you really mean all that poppycock, Ryan?”

Despite his words, Ryan felt relieved. Mimicking his accent, Ryan said, “Nothing but the truth from this gent, governor.”

Tork smiled. “I’ll make a proper gent out of you yet, human.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re not done here, kid!”

Ryan froze. Hamma had regained consciousness as he slowly rose to his feet. However, there was something off about him, as if he didn't move on his own, but more like a puppet on a string. Something moved inside his veins up his head and down his neck. From the cut on Hamma’s face, the same black liquid that he drank earlier oozed out in the place of blood.

“I never thought a brat like you could drive me to this state. But now that it’s come to this, I guess I have no choice. I’ve placed explosions all across this arena. Bombs much more powerful than the one you survived. The Ministry of Water was very clear. If I couldn’t bring you in, I was to kill you and then myself if capture seemed imminent.” Black liquid frothed from his mouth as he spoke. “Like I said. No target on my list has ever escaped. My record will be untarnished as I take you both to the grave.”        

Ryan's wounds on his arm and leg still throbbed, blood seeping from the cuts. He doubted he could muster any effort to stop Hamma, and no way did Tork have the strength to fly them out of there in his condition. A switch suddenly appeared in Hamma’s hand, and the Mystic pressed it before Ryan could react. But nothing happened. Hamma looked confused and scared as he pressed the button again and again. Then Ryan suddenly noticed a figure leaning casually against the pillar just behind Hamma.

“I already diffused your bombs, Hamma. It’s over.”

Leon Lurranna had arrived. Ryan never thought he would be happy to see his archrival, but now, he could almost kiss the guy.

“But … but how?” sputtered Hamma.

Leon held up a holopad that instantly showed images of Hamma planting his bombs in the arena. “You were careful to avoid the places under heavy surveillance within the Ministry, but you still didn’t notice me watching you the whole time. I’ve suspected you were a traitor for a while now. I just wanted to find out who your employers were, and now, thanks to Ryan, I’ve got all the intel I need. No surprise that the Grand Ministry of Water is behind all this. Oh, by the way, the drug you slipped Thomas while he was in the hospital didn’t kill him. Luckily, Éclair has much more skill in medical Elemency than you, so Thomas should be fine.”

Ryan hit himself on the head several times. I didn’t even think about checking on Thomas! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Hamma sneered at Leon hatefully. “Leon Lurranna. Of all the people in this pathetic Ministry, you should be the one fighting alongside the Mystics. Your father was called the King of Shadows, one of the great founders of our order. That makes you the Prince of Shadows. Your ancestors weep for shame at this betrayal.”

Leon's dark eyes glinted dangerously as he said, “I am not my father, and if you dare speak his name in my presence, you’ll wish for the warm release of hell’s fire.”

Leon loomed like a hawk over Hamma. The Mystic seemed to grow even paler, and he threw an ice dagger at Leon’s head. But the second he did, Leon vanished. Ryan didn't even see him move.

He might actually be faster than Grafael.

Hamma screamed and fell as Leon appeared behind him less than a second after Hamma threw the ice shard. Ryan didn't even see Leon draw a weapon, but Hamma clutched his side where black liquid oozed out instead of blood. Leon just stared down at Hamma’s crumpled form, devoid of emotion or empathy, like he was darkness itself, and Ryan felt a cold shiver go down his spine.

As Hamma spat black liquid and said, “Well, what are you waiting for? Finish it!”

“Actually, I don’t have to finish it,” answered Leon as cold as ever. “The Dark Water you drank will do the job for me.”

“Y-you’re lying,” accused Hamma, more frightened than ever.

“You brought this on yourself,” said Leon slowly, showing no signs of sympathy. “You don’t know how to control it properly. You’re an amateur. All these years that you’ve been using it, the Dark Water has slowly been eating away at your soul. It’s forbidden for a reason, you know.”

Hamma tried to speak, but black liquid gurgled out of his mouth without stopping. The liquid poured out from every opening: his eyes, his nose, his ears, the various cuts on his body. Dark Water soon enveloped him completely until nothing remained of Hamma Steel but a writhing black mass of flesh and ooze. Ryan felt sick to his stomach, hardly believing the terrible thing that just happened. He then spun towards Leon in horror and disgust.

“There was nothing to be done, not with that level of degradation,” explained Leon almost sadly. “Hamma used Dark Water to hurt people, and it came at a cost. The cost was his life."

“Who asked for your opinion? And who asked you to butt in?” said Ryan, rambling angrily. “I was doing fine, and then you show up and treat us to a horror show and you expect me to be okay with that! On top of that, you knew that this guy was rotten, and you didn’t do anything about it! Were you just watching while Tork and I nearly died? Not that I needed your help - except for maybe the part where I almost killed Tork! But still, I … and you … and he … and they … and Thomas! Why, I oughta ...” 

            As Ryan tried to rise to his feet, he felt his weight give out from under him, and fell back to the ground full on the face. Spitting dirt from his mouth, Ryan spoke weakly. “By the way, I think I'm dying.”