The Secondary Saga

[Strazio Rockwell]

In the Swamp

[spoiler]Isaac trudged slowly forward through the thick mud and muck of the swamp. An all-consuming mist obscured his vision. The only sound that filled the putrid air was the sloshing of his boots through the grimy sludge. His aged body felt heavy and every movement was strained. How long had it been since he had seen his allies? How long had he been in this swamp?

Minutes?

Hours?

Days?

No, it didn’t matter how long he had been there he had to keep moving. He wasn’t going to come this far just to die in a damned swamp. No he had a small spark of purpose, a simple wish that was kindled into the roaring flame of desire. The Bloodlance had to reach Omni and resurrect his wife, there was no other option. However, the swamp did not see is this way. The swamp bore down upon him the entire weight of his existence. He pushed against the entire weight of his failures.

“Hello Carter...” a slick voice groaned from the mist. A chill crawled through Isaac’s body, he recognized that voice.

With a momentary pause Isaac responded “Romearo?”

A pair of piercingly bright yellow eyes cut through the mist. Their owner stepped forward slowly, he was a man of Isaac’s age, but time had treated him better. Romearo’s face showed no signs of age and neither did his body. He stood tall and proud with a grin full of fangs. Tactical armor covered his body, he was dressed as a soldier of the empire.

“How very perceptive of you Carter, or should I say Bloodlance?” he chuckled.

Small whips of blood tore free from Isaac’s skin, instinctively moving to defend against the perceived threat. They formed a loose-knit shield around Isaac, protecting him from any sudden strikes.

“I killed you.”

“Perhaps in our world you did...” Romearo flicked his wrist and from a small hole in his palm a crackling whip of bright yellow energy erupted forth. The cable of energy cracked high in the air sending a deafening note across the swamp. The whip coiled itself around Isaac’s shield of blood and threatened to crush him.

Romearo called out “but I’ve been brought back from the dead, just to hunt you down!”

“Why!? Why can’t you just leave me alone!?”

“Why?” Romearo started walking towards Isaac, reeling in the energized cable with every step “because Isaac there can only be one survivor of Sector 8, it’s destiny! You killed me before, but now... Now you won’t be so lucky!”

The cable of lightning sparked and flared to life, burning into the shell of blood. Isaac could feel his defense cracking and crumbling. He struggled to keep the shield up, pumping blood into the sphere as fast as it seared away.

“This doesn’t have to happen!” Isaac yelled, his voice faltering under the pressure.

“This is Destiny!”

“No!” Isaac barked back, falling to his knees in the muck. His strength of will was failing him, as was his reserve of blood. If he didn’t strike Romearo would soon pierce his safeguard.

I can’t die...

“Come on Carter! Fight back! You’re still not holding onto that promise you made to that bitch are you!? Even after you killed her!?”

“Wait... What promise?!”

Romearo laughed “your high and mighty self righteous promise to never kill!”

At that Isaac began to laugh, slow and soft at first but it eventually cascaded into cackling unbelievable laugh. Romearo growled and tightened his whip, pulling the sphere tighter around Isaac.

“What are you laughing about?!”

“This isn’t real, begone” Isaac spoke in a low and even tone.

“What are you talking about!?”

“No one except Karin and me know about that promise so begone!” a spear of blood bore a hole into Isaac’s shoulder. He gripped onto the pain, holding it tightly against the despair. The pain sharpened his mind and pulled him back to his senses. Romearo was nowhere to be found.

All that remained were bitter memories and a bleeding wound.[/spoiler]


From the swamp emerged an armless battered old man. He clutched at his fresh chest wound, the pain was the only thing keeping him lucid within the swamp. The wound did not bleed very much, his morbid power keeping the red liquid suspended in his body. This however simple was indeed taxing, his strength was fading and he wouldn’t be able to stop the wound from bleeding for much longer. The Bloodlance cursed himself for stabbing so deeply, but in the heat of the moment he got carried away.

His darkened face brightened slightly upon seeing the meager remainder of the group. Klaud had made it as did Abner and Christa, he breathed a sigh of relieve upon seeing his friends.

“You sure took your time, age getting the better of you?” Christa teased him, welcoming him into the group.

Klaud took notice of his wound and asked “what happened?”

He bit his lip and turned from her “I’d... I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind.”

Yes these were his allies, but he did not hold any notions of commonality among them. Only Christa and Urg would know of his past, the former only because she carried a similar burden and the latter because he could not tell another soul. But he even held knowledge of Sector 8 from the two. No, he would carry the guilt of slaying his friends and allies to the grave. He was the final survivor of Sector 8’s bloody legacy and their secret would die with him.

Christa set to work helping him patch up his wound and he sat in silence. His kind demeanor had shifted and now his body was tense with worry and fear. The two sat away from the rest of the group, Isaac said he needed some breathing room and Christa followed.

“What’s wrong?” Christa finally asked after several minutes of awkward silence.

Isaac raised his eyebrows and asked sheepishly “nothing, why do you ask?”

“Bullshit, if there’s one thing I know how to do it’s how to spot a liar.”

The Bloodlance stayed silent and glared off into the forest. Christa continued her line of concerned questioning.

“What happened out there in that swamp Isaac?”

“Nothing...” he responded curtly.

“Come on old man” she teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

Isaac finally snapped, weeks and months of stress came pouring forth from his mouth “nothing alright?! For God’s sake I told Klaud I didn’t want to talk about it, and I sure as hell don’t want to talk about it with you!”

“With me!? What do you mean with me!?” Christa spiked back, her fury matching his.

Isaac responded in kind, his temper flaring for the first time in years “look! I just don’t want to talk about it! Now please fucking leave me alone!”

“Fine you can get bent asshole!” she shouted and stormed off. Immediately Isaac felt regret for his words, wishing he could shove them back down his throat. He held his head low and sighed deeply. This trip was getting to him and he took it out on the first real friend he had in years. Isaac cursed under his breath and glared off into the darkened forest.