Feral Reincarnation - p2

Nate stalked the streets, pulling his new jacket close to him. He was just leaving King territory for his own home, having taken a walk after the fight with the Feral boy.. The jacket, of course, had been stolen. He had recognized a King who had a very nice leather trench coat. And Nate wanted it. He thought of it as a birthday present to himself. It was a very nice present, and he was glad he thought of it.

Turning a corner, he let out a sigh at the familiar sight of home territory. Now, he would head home and- DONG

Nate looked over his shoulder, far off into the distance. DONG. A clock tower struck. DONG. Was it really that late already? DONG. Wait… that meant…

"My birthday…" Nate mumbled to himself. A strange urge coming over him, the boy hopped onto the hood of a car, and sat through the ringing. "Ten… Eleven… Twelve…" He grinned. "Happy birthday, me."

And that was when everything changed.

The world shook and rumbled suddenly, rocking violently back and forth like a ship in a storm. Nate cried out, rolling off the car. The metallic clanking and rattling echoed through the empty streets and it was thrown up in the air and landed on its side. Lurching to his feet, Nate stumbled away, as if drunk. The light of a nearby lamppost almost seemed to exude blackness as the Blade groped for anything solid to support himself with. As if the post could shelter him, Nate grasped it, wrapping his arms tightly about it, squeezing his eyes shut. And the shaking stopped, as if it had never happened.

A laugh of relief escaped him. What the hell was that? "Some shit…" Nate muttered, opening his eyes.  

What he saw shook him as if he got hit by a semi doing eighty.

He was no longer home. This was not Permanence. He didn't even know what this was! Purple! Purple as far as the eye could see. An endless plain of dark, gloomy purple. When Nate stepped away from the lamppost, he felt the world shift under him once more, like a platform suddenly moving to the left. A hand waved for the stable post, but it was gone.

"Fuck!" Nate cried, taking a step back. Through the fear and confusion, he was getting a serious sense of déjà vu. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm. Reaching into his coat pocket, Nate drew his sword, flipping it about to reveal the blade. Then he strode through the purple fog-like stuff.

Silence was only broken by the boy's breathing. His boots made no sound as he continued walking. Maybe if he went in a straight line, he would get back to Permanence soon. But… what if it was behind him? Not in front.

Nate spun about, and-

Red.  He looked up, a taller man standing right there. Just grinning at him under black bangs. He seemed way too happy for the place. The grin widened and Nate took a hesitant step back. Waaaaay too happy.

"Uh-"

Before Nate could even start, the pale man jumped him. The Blade screamed, and plunged his weapon into the man's chest. But strong arms wrapped around his, pinning the boy. Even as he was lifted from the ground, he struggled.

"Oh, Aru!" The man said, swinging back and forth, suffocating Nate in the tight hug. "I knew I'd find you soon! This is great! Great, great, great!"

"Guh!" Nate pushed against him. "Let go!" He felt something wet. Blood. "You've gotta sword sticking out of your chest! Go die like a normal person!"

The laughter was not something that he wanted to hear. But he was, at least, free from that suffocating hug. Held at arm's length, the man studied Nate as Nate studied him. He really was bleeding a lot. Wow, was his sword coming out the back of this guy? How the hell was he still standing?

"Geez, Aru. You're really skinny. And shorter than me, hah! This make me happy."

Nate glared at the man. "Who the hell are you? And who is this… Aru?" He was getting it again. Déjà vu…

"I… am Drakonius Agememnon Fortunidia Dionsian Servantilius the Third." He rattled off as he pulled the sword from his chest and handed it back to Nate. Still, he held the Blade with one hand, suspended above the air like a balloon.  "And you are Aru Shinomura!" His grin faded. "You were at least. Until you had to go and die like that!"

"What are you talking about?!" Nate cried. He graciously took his sword… only to spin about and cleanly slice off the hand holding him. Landing nimbly to his feet, he darted back. The man looked at him sadly, the grin wavering. Bending over, he picked up his hand and held it over the bleeding wrist. Then… the fingers began to move! Bones popped as Drakonius spun his wrist about. "There we go…" he muttered. Then he looked at Nate once more. "It's not uncommon for people to forget their past lives. Hell, it's supposed to happen. But not with you." He took a step forward, his whole demeanor changing. He was taller, more imposing. The purple gloom seemed so joyous and safe in comparison to what loomed in front of Nate now.

"I still own you," he continued, advancing the more Nate retreated. "Stop moving!" He yelled. And Nate froze. No matter how much he tried to force himself, he could not move. His body shook and shivered, but he could do nothing to retreat.

"See?" Drakonius stopped in front of him. "I didn't get a chance to erase your memories, so they should be easy to pull up…" Black eyes bore into Nate, and he could not tear himself away. "Don't worry," Drakonius said, smiling once more. "It won't hurt."

A pale finger rose slowly, and tapped Nate on the forehead. Despite the tenderness behind it, Nate's whole body broke, ripping apart from every ligament and every muscle. A light burst in front of his eyes, blinding him, and he collapsed. Unconscious, he fell into the arms of Drakonius, who was grinning sheepishly. "Okay… I lied." He muttered.

~*~*~*~

Crying. Screaming. War cries. Inhuman gurgles and growls. Clanging of weapons like cymbals. Flashes of blood, oozing from wounds and steaming in the air. That was not his worry. This, in front of him was.

More clangs of metal against metal. And then it happened. A shattering. His heart broke in two as a giant cleaver cut him to pieces.

~*~*~*~

Nate awoke screaming. With great effort, he kicked himself free and fell to the ground. Eyes darting about, he looked at the familiarity. His bedroom. Posters of bands and video games decorated the walls and his clothes lay about in a disorganized mess. Nate blinked, feeling out of place and wary here, for only for a moment. But he yawned, and ran a hand through his hair, combing out the bangs...

Aru awoke, running a hand through his bangs. Pulling back the sheets, he rose and quickly took care of his daily needs, checking his pockets to make sure he had everything after getting dressed. Once sure he was okay, the man exited the room and shut the door behind him, heading down to the inn foyer to get some breakfast.

Nate found himself in the kitchen, suddenly unaware as to how he got here, completely dressed. He shrugged it off, though, and pulled out an apple from the fridge. His parents were not here, but that was okay with him. They were never here, and he could get some food for himself...

"... and some coffee, please," Aru told the innkeeper's son. "Get  the meal here quick, boy, and I may have an extra copper or two for you as a reward.

And Nate looked down at a full breakfast in front of him. Scrambled eggs, coffee, and steak. His hands were coated in grease and flour and the sink was full of the dirty dishes he had used.  He had to have made this meal. No one else was here. Nate checked the clock. A little past ten.

The samurai stood, putting the extra copper on the table for the child as promised…

"Augh…!" Nate grabbed at his forehead, trying to stem the headache that was blossoming.

"You've only got a headache because you haven't eaten anything! Eat, now, before it gets worse, Aru!" A wooden spoon waved in front of his face and he had never seen such a threatening weapon before

Nate jolted at the scolding tone in the voice and quickly sat down. "Yes! S-Sorry!" He cried, plopping down in the stool and taking a big bite from the scrambled eggs.   As he ate, Nate heard the front door open…

He was on his feet in an instance, sword in hand. No one was getting to his family! When the person came around the corner, the sword flashed and nestled itself under the chin of the intruder.

"Whoa! Nate! The fuck are you doing?!"

Nate blinked, and saw Cody, hands up in a defeated gesture, a black sword under his chin.

"Holy shit, man! I didn't mean to!" Immediately, Nate withdrew his sword, and folded it back up. "This morning… has been really fucked up."

Cody looked around the kitchen, spotting the meal on the counter top. "I can tell. You actually made yourself breakfast." Pleading eyes turned to Nate and the Blade sighed.

"Come on. Let's get something to eat."