Philos stared in awe at the gargantuan and imposing gate that loomed over the small village of Hazelnut, its ominous shadow cast over the town as the morning sun rose behind it.
“The Emerald Gate,” Sir Smith began, “the last defense of the Outskirts government. It was constructed as a barricade to defend the capital city, Talvory.”
“Talvory,” Joseph began, lighting a cigarette, “that’s where this Adonai guy is?”
“Yes. But we must be wary. The gate is sure to be guarded by officials. We must proceed carefully.”
“I’m so hungry!” Alphonso said as his stomach made a roaring growl.
“What?” Joseph smiled a smug smile. “Can’t handle a simple carriage ride to Hazelnut, huh, fatso?”
“When I finally get some food,” the other started, groaning. “I’m gonna kill ya, ya stupid dog!”
“I’m a cat—” Joseph threw his hands into the air. “You know what? Forget it.”
“Fools,” Sir Smith said under his breath.
Uri felt his stomach growl as well. “I’m...” he said softly, “I’m somewhat hungry as well.”
“We’ll be there soon enough,” Philos said as he leaned against the window, his reddish-brown eyes watching the Emerald Gate as they entered the town. “Hazelnut Village has a pretty good tavern from what I hear.”
“What’s got you so solemn, Phi?” Joseph asked, one of his cat ears twitching.
“Oh, me?” He smiled. “Nothing, just enjoying the ride, that’s all.”
“This is the first time we’ve left the city, well”—Joseph pointed at himself, then Alphonso, then Uri—“for us, at least.”
Philos smiled widely. “Yeah. It makes me happy.”
It was true, too. He was happy. But it was partially a lie. He couldn’t enjoy this ride. Not with those images in his mind. Over and over, he thought about his skirmish only a few days prior. He thought about the Adonai and his blazing red flames, how powerful they were, and how they prevented Philos from healing. But that was the least of the dismal thoughts that pervaded his mind. What truly unsettled him—the thing that made him shiver—wasn’t the gargantuan man’s raw magical ability. No. It was the number tattooed upon his chest.
Number four, huh?
Philos placed his hand upon his chest. He couldn’t shake it. No matter how much he hated the Adonai for what he did, for some sick, twisted reason, he felt sorry for him. That simple tattoo, that number upon his chest, Philos knew the gravity that it bore. He knew its pain—its curse.
He knew that man’s agony, and when he thought about it, he understood his anger.
I know your pain, Adonai. But even if I know the curse that haunts you, I still cannot forgive you. You hurt the ones I care about. You crossed the line.
Sure, he told himself this, but he still couldn’t shake this pervasive feeling within himself.
Because he knew, deep down, that he wished he could save the Adonai, too.
The wagon slowly began to stop, and the driver raised the curtain.
“It’s not much to look at, but we’re here,” the driver called back.
Alphonso quickly rose and stepped down from the wagon.
“I see the tavern, too!” Oh, thank One, we’re saved!”
Philos smiled and looked at his friends.
“Hurry up, fatso!” Joseph laughed as he stepped down as well. “Yer gonna waste away if you don’t eat in time!”
“Shut up, you stupid dog! I gotta eat!” He flexed his big biceps. “These guns need ammo, ya know!”
“Dude, I’m a cat!”
Uri laughed softly as he watched the two bicker back and forth.
“Hey, brother,” Philos said, holding his hand out to help the young, blue-haired boy down. “I know you’re hungry, too! C’mon!”
The other nodded and took his hand.
Sir Smith watched the boys scurry off into the tavern and sighed.
“O great One,” he said under his breath. “Am I now a babysitter?”
Hazelnut was a bustling town. Farmers sold fruit at their stands. The gray smoke from the blacksmith’s table wafted into the air, only to disperse as it ascended into the atmosphere. As the morning sun was now higher than the Emerald Gate, the town finally received daylight. Philos and the others scurried towards the tavern, their stomachs empty and their hearts filled with the warmth and rush of adventure.
High above the small and humble village, a shadowy figure levitated in the air. None could see him, but that wasn’t anything unusual. He was accustomed to being invisible. He watched, as he had always done; he watched, for that was all he could do.
Above the settlement, the Starbreather, the one called “One,” floated like a specter in the wind, his deep red eyes watching the boys below. He stared at Uri. You hold it too, don’t you? The Starbreather smiled, baring his sharp, jagged teeth. You’re a small fry, that’s for sure! I bet your power will be fantastic!
He crossed his arms and sat in the air with his legs crossed. As he folded his limbs, the cosmic galaxies caught within his skin exploded upon his flesh, turning his arms and legs into bright greens and purples and blues as the galaxies collided. He turned his crimson gaze to Philos.
And you...
You are not yet ready...
He began to laugh, a high-pitched cackle. As he floated above the city and laughed, no one saw him or heard him.
They never had to begin with.
The tavern had pretty much cleared, mostly because people bolted as soon as they saw an Angel. Gilliam sat silently at the bar, listening.
So here you are, Smith...these boys? He thought with a smile. Are they the ones that will save the world?
“So what’s the deal?” Alphonso said, his mouth full of food.
“Don’t speak to me with your mouth full,” Sir Smith shot back. “Foolish brute.”
“Then I’ll ask,” Philos said, smiling as he put his fork down politely. “How exactly do you expect us to take down the Morning Star Kingdom?”
“You get ahead of yourself,” the Angel said. “You must first learn to manifest the Starblood. It is only then that—”
“Help!” A woman suddenly burst into the bar. “They’re gonna kill him!”
Philos rose almost immediately and nodded at the others.
Joseph winked. “Sorry, Smithy. Looks like your little story is gonna have to wait.”
“Don’t worry,” Alphonso said, gulping down a glass of ale and cracking his knuckles. “We won’t be long.”
Outside, a boy stood against three soldiers: a short man, a big man, and a masked woman.
“Screw off!” the young boy yelled at the soldier in the middle.
“You gotta death wish, kid?” the short man said, a large club in his hands.
“I said, screw off!”
“That’s it!” the man raged as he raised his bat to swing.
The boy dropped, his shaking hands raising to guard his head.
But the strike never came.
“You know,” Philos said as he held the tip of the club in his hand, “it’s not nice to pick on those weaker than you, especially children.”
The short man ripped the club from his hand. “And just who the hell are you?!”
Philos smiled. “Oh, I’m Philos.”
“Looks like you’ll have to kill him too, Fox!” the masked woman cackled to her partner.
“She’s right! Ya see here, this is Captain Wolfe’s territory! No one gets through the gate without his say-so. So I’d back down!” he grunted as he swung the bat once more.
With great speed, Philos swerved to the right, his foot sweeping Fox’s feet off the ground.
“Hyena!” Fox exclaimed as he fell. “Shoot him already!”
“My turn?!” She laughed, pulling a large revolver from her cloak. “Fun time!”
A gunshot rang through the air. The air was still, the people of the village silent and frozen in fear.
“Oh my god!” Hyena shrieked as she collapsed to the ground, cradling her bleeding hand that once held a gun.
“Shooting a man who doesn’t even have his sword drawn?” Joseph said, smoke flowing from the barrel of his gun. “Bit of a cheap move, no?”
“Alright!” Alphonso roared, his large muscles flexing as he cracked his knuckles. “Which one of you bastards interrupted my dinner? My food is getting cold!”
“That’s the least of your worries,” Fox said as he produced a giant dagger. “I’ll gut that food from your stomach.”
With a rush of rage, Fox stepped forward, the blade of the dagger spearing forward wildly.
“Yeah, Fox!” Hyena shrieked. “Make him bleed!”
The blade came toward Alphonso. Suddenly, Alphonso took the man by the wrist. With his great strength, he stepped forward, sweeping Fox’s leg off the ground and raising him up. With one great motion, the short man slammed onto the street, the force of his fall kicking up dust from the road.
Alphonso combed his spiky hair. “Idiot.”
“That’s martial arts! You bastard!” Fox groaned as he rose again, holding his back. “I’ll kill you—”
Suddenly, the sounds of a wolf howling resounded from the Emerald Gate.
“Time to go back,” the large soldier said with a droopy voice as he threw the injured Hyena over his shoulder.
Fox sighed. “You’re right, Hound.” He turned to the boys. “You’re lucky this time! All of ya!”
“Are you okay?” Uri said as he rushed to the young boy as his attackers scurried away.
“Hey! Asshole!” the boy yelled, pointing at Philos.
“M-me?!”
“Yeah, you! I didn’t need you to step in! I didn’t need your help! I’m not some helpless kid!”
“Oh yeah?” Philos smiled, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You could’ve handled it on your own, couldn’t you?”
Sudden pain shot up his leg as the boy slammed his boot into Philos’ shin.
“Aghhh!” Philos shrieked, holding his shin and bouncing around.
“Ouch,” Alphonso said.
“That little runt got you good!” Joseph laughed.
Uri held his hand to his head. “They’re both outlandish...”
The Angel walked out of the tavern, his halo glowing in the sun. “Are we done lollygagging?”
“I’m not a kid!” the boy yelled as he walked off. “My name is Dalt! And I’m not weak!”
“That kid...” Uri began.
“Has serious issues...” Joseph finished.
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