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"Perspective"

“John!” I screamed, leaping through the air. My mind blazed fiery pain as I forced it to concentrate, running out of time. One chance.
Silvery shimmering energy laced its way out of my back to form great, sweeping wings. They folded and tucked, allowing me to plummet and catch up to John. “Go limp!” I shouted as I passed him. My wings flared out and slowed me down as John landed in my arms. My mind continued to burn as I willed the wings to lift us up once more.
“When are you gonna teach me that trick?” John asked, grinning. I tried to smile, but found it a little difficult. I set him down upon the nearest ledge and let the wings melt back into my body.
“It’d only give you an actual reason to throw yourself off a cliff every time we get into trouble,” I said, the fire in my brain subsiding. He grinned again, and I couldn’t help but smile. John was my best friend, he really was. But he had a habit of relying on me to not die a little too often.
The sound of exploding gunpowder cracked the air above us. I made a nervous glance upward, and saw the waving fist of our quarry. She screeched something I couldn’t even pretend to understand, then tossed something over the edge down at us. My eyes stared at it, trying to figure out what it was.
My brain lit on fire again as I grabbed John and leaped from the ledge. My silvery wings unfolded themselves once again, and we took off. “Oh, so you get to jump off cliffs and I don’t?” John shouted as we flew through the air. I managed a grimace and began to climb higher. We moved up above our target, who began to screech some more. She unloaded his flintlock at us, and something in my mind exploded as the bullet pierced my left wing. The wings melted away and we dropped the 15 feet to the ground. John hit the ground and rolled, engaging the enemy.
I just dropped. I tried to land well, but all I managed to do was shatter my ankle. Blood ran from my nose. As crouched there, panting, and saw it drip, I realized I hadn’t hit my nose on anything. My brain was bleeding.
John had already pulled his daggers and disarmed our target. She lunged for him with her claws, but he sidestepped her and severed her achilles tendon. She hit the ground and flopped around for a moment before he snapped her neck. He turned just in time to see me black out and collapse.
I awoke on a cold metal table, a blinding white light stinging my retinas. I heard John’s voice, but it took some time to register what he was saying. “scare. If you die, who the hell is gonna keep me from dying? Somebody’s gotta pull my ass outta the air.” My body was numb. I tried to say something, or maybe open my mouth, but was entirely unsuccessful. “Don’t try to move right now. You took some heavy damage when she shot your wing. We’re still trying to figure out how much.”
I blinked at him in response. It was all I could do. I faded back out.
When I came to again, I was still on the table. John was gone. Only Edward, our hired doctor, was around. I tried to move my mouth. “Eh.. Ehhd...”
Edward turned and came over to me. “I’m here, Tyler. Nice to see you awake again, it’s been a few days.” He smiled, then checked the monitor next to my head.
“Wh... Wha..” I uttered.
“What happened?” Edward asked.
I blinked at him approvingly.
“You sustained major brain damage when Ao shot your wing. I’m not sure of the specifics yet, we’re still trying to figure out what exactly happened. What we do know is that your brain is not acting normally, so we may need you to summon your wings soon to see if there is some kind of problem there.”
I stared at him, somewhat afraid. My mind burned whenever I summoned my wings. Now my brain was damaged, and he wanted me to summon them so he could check them out? I didn’t like the idea, but I didn’t know what else we could do.
“Not today. Save your strength, we’ll try tomorrow, okay?” he said. I blinked approvingly, and allowed myself to fade back into sleep.
I awoke the next day to find John and Edward standing over me. “Morning, sunshine.” John said, grinning. I wished I could reach out and slap him.
“Are you ready?” Edward asked. I managed to nod. Slowly, gently, they rolled me over. John supported my head as I began to concentrate. It hurt just to think, much less use my wings. But I summoned them anyway, and my brain split, erupting in pain. My mouth gaped and my face contorted in pain, but I couldn’t scream. John just stared into my eyes and held my head up. He looked scared.
My wings unfolded and I heard Edward gasp. I heard something drip to the floor on my left side. My nostrils ran with blood. John’s eyes were terrified. My mind continued to burn, but I couldn’t shut out the pain. I had to concentrate on it just to keep my wings out.
I could feel Edward’s hands feeling along my wing, examining it. He was silent, but I could tell he was scared as well. The dripping off to my left continued. Something cold entered the hole in my wing, sending even more pain into my mind. “Hold on a moment,” Edward said. I clenched my jaw. He tore something from my wing and the pain redoubled. My eyes began to water and my jaw strained. More blood splattered from my nose as I coughed, spraying John. He continued to hold my head and stare into my eyes.
More wet splatters hit the ground as something oozed from my wing. “Hang on just a little longer and we can patch this up,” Edward told me. He went through some of his drawers and returned. Pinpricks of agony coursed through my wing and my brain as he sewed the hole back together. I could feel my consciousness begin to fade. I had lost a lot of blood, but I had to concentrate on the pain and stay awake. I had to keep the wings out until Edward told me otherwise. The dripping slowed, and he set his equipment down. He turned to the monitor next to my head. “Okay, go ahead and pull them back. Slowly.”
The pain in my mind began to subside as I slowly pulled the wings back into my body. Finally they were back in, and my brain went numb. Blood still dribbled from my nose. They rolled me back over. I faded out again.
I awoke again on the table, and they had cleaned me up. My headache was pretty much gone. “You’ve been out for a week, Tyler,” John said, “but your readings have stabilized. You seem to be recovering well.” I smiled at him as I drifted out again. I continued to fade in and out over the next few days, feeling stronger each time.
Finally I sat up on the table. “It’s alive! It’s alive!” John shouted. I shot him a glare, then smiled, shaking my head. That hurt, so I reminded myself not to do it again. “Good to have you back Tyler,” John said, helping me off the table.
“Good to be back. Somebody has to keep your ass from falling off a cliff.”
Edward walked in. “Welcome back to the world of the living,” he said, smiling. I glared at him as well. He talked about giving me some extra time to recover, but I didn’t really pay attention. I had been out of commission for weeks, and I was itching to get back to work.
After finding some pants to put on, I asked John about business. “Any contracts come in lately?”
“We just got one yesterday,” he said, “I would have gone for it, but I wanted to wait for you.”
“Good call. What’s the job?” I smiled. It was good to know I’d be out in the field again soon.
“We’re supposed to retrieve a stolen article, one ‘Infinitus Glove,’ from a group down in South America who have supposedly stolen it. Word is they’re heavily armed. Expect magical ordnance. They’re also apparently very fond of ballistae,” John said, smiling to himself. He liked big fights.
“Ballistae?” I asked. It sounded familiar, and bad, but I couldn’t be sure.
“The giant wheeled crossbows. You know, the ones that fire arrows bigger than you or me?”
“Oh, right, the one that almost cut you in half a few years back. Got it.” I shoved John into the wall. Had to give him a hard time.
“Hey, I didn’t just spend three weeks in the medlab from one bullet. From a bloody flintlock.” John shoved me back.
“You didn’t get hit by it,” I said, “Anyway, prep the equipment, we’ll head out for this tomorrow.” John nodded and headed off down the hallway. I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t take another hit like that again. Ao was harsh, but she didn’t have the technology these people would have. And the “Infinitus Glove?” That just sounds dangerous. “We better be getting paid well for this.” I muttered and went off to my quarters.
The teleportation pad was ready to go. We were stocked with supplies, weapons, and anything else we needed. I waved goodbye to Edward, telling him I hoped we wouldn’t need him as soon as we got back as we dematerialized.
We rematerialized in the midst of a dense jungle. We dropped the six inches to the ground, and I winced as my ankle made contact. “Still a little sore,” I muttered as John looked at me, somewhat worried. We started to move forward, headed toward what looked like a large structure built among the trees.
“Climb or fly?” I whispered. I had tested my wings the night before, and they were back to working like usual, just as painful as ever.
“Can you handle flying?” he asked. He didn’t want a repeat of last time.
“As long as they don’t catch me with one of those giant arrows, I’ll be fine,” I reassured him. He nodded and my wings melted out of my back, silvery energy lacing back and forth, lifting me into the air. I grabbed his hands and lifted him up with me, carrying us into the canopy. The pain in my mind subsided as we landed and my wings slid back into my body. I took a moment to catch my breath, then we moved forward. There was chanting coming from the structure, like some kind of ceremony.
As we moved closer, we began to see what was going on. A crowd had gathered, and in the center, standing above them, was a man, his fist held high. A great brown leather glove, the size of his head, wrapped his fist and glowed with power. “There’s the glove,” I whispered to John.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” he said back to me. We stepped closer, ever watchful for the defenses we were told about. I heard a loud twang, and shoved John to the ground, falling on top of him. A massive arrow cleaved through the foliage, ripping through the area we just occupied.
“Thieves! Just as I warned you!” the leader called out, and his followers cheered, charging for us. “Slay them not! They may be fed to the Glove!”
As much as that last statement confused me, I refused to let it go to my head. John was already out from under me with his daggers out, and I was standing back up, readying myself for combat. John leaped into the crowd, spraying blood all about him, bounding from opponent to opponent. Such bloodlust, it was almost sickening. But I needed him for contracts like this.
My mind began to burn again as I summoned up my wings, flying over the crowd to take on the leader on my own. He laughed as I landed in front of him. The glove continued to glow as he pointed a finger at me. I leaped out of the way just in time to avoid a bolt of energy coursing from his finger. I pulled my sword and rushed him. He swung at me with the glove, but I parried the blow and attempted a slash across his stomach. He out stepped me, keeping out of my reach, then swung back in with the glove. I leaped above him, hovering on my wings for a moment, then dropping back down to bring my blade across the back of his arm, severing the muscle.
His arm hung limp at his side as he whirled to face me, rage in his eyes. “Strike me down, foul warrior, and may God forgive what you do this day!” he shouted, running at me. He swung his shoulder just right to bring the glove at my face, and I had no choice but to decapitate him. His head hit the ground with a thud as his body stumbled forward.
I looked over at John as he decimated the last of his foes and leaped over to me. “You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, and he turned to the body. He knelt down, and pulled the massive glove off of the dead hand. Somehow, it had remained bloodless, as had its spot on the ground, despite the pool that had formed around it. “The Infinitus Glove, eh?” he said, turning it over in his hands.
“Be careful with it. He said something about feeding us to it,” I said to him. He seemed mesmerized by the glove, staring at it constantly. “Let’s put it in the bag and get out of here, there may be reinforcements.”
Finally he looked up at me, grinning. That savage grin he made when he knew he was about to do something wrong, and I’d have to clean up after him. He turned the glove around, eyeing the opening.
“John, don’t do it, we have a contract,” I warned. He pulled the glove closer to his hand.
“Think of the money we could make. With this glove we could have it all!” he said. He’d gone crazy. I concentrated for a moment, readying my wings. My hand gripped my sword. “It’s for the best Tyler,” he said, pulling the glove on.
I lunged at him, wings springing from my back as pain flared in my mind. My sword whipped from its scabbard as he drew the glove up to defend himself. It blocked my blow and knocked me back. Somehow I managed to land on my feet.
“The contract is binding, John, you knew that when you signed up for this outfit!” I shouted at him, bringing my blade to the ready again. He pointed a gloved finger at me.
“Forget the contract John, think about the future!” He laughed, and I had to wonder if this was the same John that I had known for all these years. He was cocky and arrogant sometimes, but he was never like this.
Energy lanced forth from the glove. I dodged left, then dived forward, hoping to cleave the glove from his arm. It was no use. He whirled around, blocking my attack, then swung his dagger for my wings. I jetted upward, dodging his blade and dragging mine across his back. I landed on his other side and lunged again, skewering him before he could turn to face me. We fell to the ground, my sword deep within his chest, his dagger digging into my side. “Damn it, John, what the hell happened to you?” I said, pushing my weight into him.
“I found a higher calling,” he said weakly. I could tell he was fading. He brought the glove around to clutch my face. “Now shut up and die,” he gasped.
The glove clung to my face, despite my struggling to get away from it. I could feel my essence draining into it. I melted my wings back into my body, realizing I’d need to concentrate to get out of this. “Uhm Au-ee On” I managed to mumble into the glove. I began to concentrate again, and my brain erupted into fire once more. Silvery white spines spewed forth from my entire body, piercing John and the ground underneath us. I heard his last inward gasp as I forced more spikes to grow from the spines themselves. My mind burned like it had when my wing was shot, and I could feel blood coming down my nostrils, but it refused to pool in the glove.
Finally, as John’s life force gave out, the glove relented its grasp. I pulled my face away from it as the spines melted back into my body, my nose dripping onto the brown leather. It wasn’t even wetted as it absorbed the blood, drop by drop. John lay there, crumpled, broken, and aerated.
I picked up the glove to put it in my bag, when I realized John was right. I could make a killing with this thing. The world could be mine...

The Book of Akira: Two

---

Years passed, and the Child was as curious as ever. He had begun walking within a few months, his eyes glinting with an understanding of everything around him. By the fourth year of his life, we was incredibly mobile, with more agility than youngsters twice his age. But he never spoke. He had still not uttered a word from the moment of his birth. Not a sound had escaped his mouth, one could hardly even hear his breath when he was tired. His parents believed him mute, and took him to the doctor to confirm their suspicions. After many tests, they found no such problems with the Child, and the doctor was confused. He should have spoken by now. Perhaps the Child was a mute, and the tests were simply faulty. The parents began to believe this, and explained it to the Kindergarten teacher as the Child prepared to go to school a few months later.

When the first day of school came around, the Child's eyes shined with anticipation. He knew what was coming, though he never spoke a word. He remained as silent as ever as he sat next to his mother while she drove to the school. She sent him off into the building, waving and smiling, then drove home. She just walked in the door when the phone rang. She picked up the receiver and greeted the caller, the Child's Kindergarten teacher. She informed the mother that the Child wasn't in class, and asked if he was sick. The mother told her that she dropped the Child off, and watched him enter the building. She informed the teacher that she would return to the school shortly. Hanging up the phone, she picked up her things and got back into the car, her mind racing. Worry filled her face, her very being as she sped towards the school building, running stop signs she had never missed in her life in her preoccupation on the Child's welfare. She arrived at the school and entered the building, walking toward the principal's office. Stepping inside, she saw the Child sitting on the couch, his Kindergarten teacher sitting next to him. She ran to the Child, exclaiming her worry. The teacher spoke, telling her that they found him in the sixth-grade classroom, sitting at one of the desks, listening attentively to the teacher. The Child wrapped his arms around the mother, and she picked him up, asking him why he was there. He didn't respond, remaining silent. The mother led him back to the Kindergarten classroom, walking along with the teacher. The Child seemed saddened as he entered the room, joining the other children. The teacher introduced him to the class, the mother hugged him, and then left for home once again. The Child waved to her, smiling and silent. The teacher said goodbye, and the mother drove home. When she arrived, there was a message on the answering machine. The mother listened to Kindergarten teacher's message as it explained what happened after the mother left. Once again, the Child had disappeared, and once again, he was found in the same sixth-grade classroom. The teacher suggested that the mother take the Child home for the day. The mother sighed, got back into her car, and drove back to the school. The Child was in the office again. The mother picked him up, and carried him toward the door. He began to fight her, trying to get back to the ground. He didn't want to leave. He remained silent as his arms flailed, tears streamed from his angry eyes, and his legs kicked. The mother set him down and he ran from her, headed for the sixth-grade classroom once again. She caught him and picked him up, carrying him into the office. The Child was calmer as she picked him up, understanding she had no intention of taking him out of the building this time. The mother spoke to the principal, and they decided to place the Child in the sixth-grade classroom for a single day to see what would happen, with strict instructions to the teacher to insure the students treated him as a peer.

The Child did not fight as the mother brought him home from the office after her conversation with the principal. The next day, the mother brought the Child back to school, and walked him to the sixth-grade classroom. She spoke with the teacher for a few minutes, explaining the situation, though the principal had already spoken to them both. The mother left, and the teacher taught the class as she always did, giving out classwork as usual, and giving a normal lecture. The Child listened attentively, and performed the classwork flawlessly. The mother returned at the end of the day to pick up the Child and speak to the teacher and principal. The mother, teacher, and principal were all amazed at the Child's performance, and decided to keep him in the class as long as he could keep up. The teacher could tell there was something different about the child. Those eyes glinting with curiousity. The Child smiled as his mother took him home. The mother put him to bed, and he smiled at her, remaining ever silent.