Reckless Grace

Rex gazed across the frozen expanse, watching the small camp of three men and two women. The sky above glimmered with the northern lights that never vanished from the mystical tundra. Night reigned ever on in that icy, desolate land. Stars and an eternal full moon provided the only light in the ancient, cruelly beautiful realm. Only once before had he traveled to this place, to seek out a primordial and enrapturing goddess; then, he had barely escaped from the trap of time. He watched as the men shoved the small form of the first woman. They laughed harshly, and their laughter echoed. The second woman, hulking and almost masculine, watched from the edge of the camp, nearly smothered by the shadows. Rex observed, touching the handles of the guns at his hips. He had traveled far to reach these heathens, and he could not allow himself to make any brash moves. They slapped and harangued the slight woman mercilessly, but she did not cry out. Rex immediately respected her grit and determination. One of the men, a burly and misshapen creature, yanked at her shirt, exposing her breasts. He twisted her n*****s, and the raucous laughter that ensued made Rex’s stomach churn. He gritted his teeth, trying to rein in his fury. But when another man, short and squat, tried to tear at her pants, she began to fight. The third man, of average build and donning an eye patch, punched her in the jaw. Her head snapped to the side, long hair cascading over her face. She lost her footing and fell into the fire. For a moment, there was a dazed silence; then, her screams rent the frozen air. Rage jolted through him, a righteous rage he always held just in check. With long, powerful legs, he bounded across the countryside, bellowing his war cry and unholstering his guns. From across the distance, he watched the men and woman turn their attention to him. When he burst into their encampment, he shot both guns into the air. A snarl was splayed across his face. “My, my, my,” the muscular woman breathed. She crossed her arms just below her full breasts. “Rex Alexander Warbourne. It’s been too long…brother.” Her voice oozed with sarcasm and ire. Her steel colored eyes glinted in the firelight. “We can end this now, Luciana,” Rex growled. “This can be a bloodless exchange.” Luciana, handsome for a woman, let out a soft chuckle. Her short cropped, red hair was brilliant, even in the dim light. A small smile tugged at her full lips. “I had heard you’d gone soft. Where’s the Rex that would’ve sliced through us?” “I come for the woman.” He glanced over to the woman; the short, squat man had poured cold water on her. She shivered and moaned, shirtless and in pain. “I think not, Rex. You abandoned us. You abandoned Father.” Luciana’s face turned hard. “You went to the enemy.” “I left to find a better life.” “You abandoned me!” Her voice turned into a roar. “We were raised side-by-side. He took us both in, turned us into what we are, and you threw it all away!” He knew the pain she felt; he felt it too. They had suffered the same abuse, endured the same brutal training. Once, they had been closer than blood siblings. His leaving had hurt him, too. Together, they had braved every battlefield, slaughtering the so-called enemy to a man. They were a powerful duo, shaped and corrupted by Warlord Xanthas. Men quivered in fear in the wake of their destruction. They were favored by Xanthas, and thus they were tormented by his twisted love. Leaving her behind was a tiny death; he knew his betrayal. Her pain and anger were not unjust. “I begged you to come with me; you chose your path, Luciana. It’s not too late. Join me on this path to redemption,” he urged. “Never! You left me alone!” She was screaming now. “You don’t know what it was like when you left! He beat me for days, blaming me for your betrayal! He hung me from shackles without food, just enough water to keep me alive. He rubbed salt in wounds that wouldn’t stop bleeding. And when I healed, it still wasn’t enough to appease him. He did it over and over and over!” Madness danced in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Luciana.” His words were barely a whisper. “I’ll never forgive you,” she hissed. Her lips pulled back, revealing sharp teeth. “You want the woman? You’ll have to kill for her… something you’d never do for me.” She clapped her hands once. “Boys!” The men leapt forward, weapons in hand. The short, stocky man stood in the lead, holding a battle axe favored by the dwarves. His nose, red and bulbous, dripped snot into his wild, dark beard. His mean, beady eyes glared at him. His greasy, bushy hair stuck out in disarray. Behind him, the grotesque man stood. He was beyond bulky; he was enormous. He looked like the creature of an unnatural coupling between human and giant. One eye was too small, the other too large. He stood with a severe hunch, yet that did nothing to stop the bulging muscles corded through his lopsided, monstrous body. His bald head was mapped with bumps and concave spots. He looked like a child’s nightmare come to life. Back in the shadows stood the third man. He was unnaturally thin, unnaturally pale. His lips were the dark red of drying blood. His missing left eye was covered by an eyepatch; the other eye was a black vortex. There was no white to his eye, only the depthless black. His shoulder length, chestnut hair was slicked back. He was beautiful, but Rex knew what he was; this man could not be easily killed. “I’ve collected these men,” Luciana said. “I searched for the most unholy of the unholy. Luther the half-dwarf was born to high priestess, a woman r***d and forced by the church to carry this misbegotten man. Gilley the Giant was born of a giantess enraptured by a human. Scorned- all three of them. The mother was captured and torn apart limb by giant limb in front of him. The father fled, leaving a poor, hideous boy to live alone in a world that hated him. “And Vorador is my special treasure. He is a walking plague of death. His existence is thought of as a myth. He is ancient, as ancient and timeless as that worthless woman over there. “Get through them, and she’s yours. But to fight them is to fight their lifetimes of sin. I hope you’ve found redemption, Rex.” Luther began to move, but Rex was quicker. He leapt, using the bushy head to launch high into the air; his foot met Gilley the Giant’s face, and he felt the rewarding crack of teeth breaking. Vorador remained still, melting into the shadows. Rex knew the man was analyzing his movements, learning his fighting techniques. Rex also knew that his prowess and abilities could not be judged in a single fight, or even in days of observation. Gilley crumpled, holding a hand to his mouth, yet holding on to the two handed sword he easily held in one. Rex turned back to Luther. He had his axe raised. Rex took quick aim and rendered one hand useless with a bullet. The dwarf squawked his pain. With unbelievable speed, Rex sent his shin into the side of the short man’s head, knocking him unconscious. “Gilley angry!” the giant yelled. Rex rolled his eyes. He holstered his guns, grabbing the discarded axe. Gilley swung down, his muscles in one arm bunching. The sword came down, and Rex whack the man upside his massive skull three times in quick succession. Gilley fell to the ground with a loud thwonk that Rex felt beneath his feet. “Impressive.” The melodious voice came from the shadows. Vorador eased forward. Rex felt goosebumps run along his arms. Luciana chuckled softly. “You came so far just to meet your end, Warbourne.”