The Imperial Warrior

Chapter 5- You're Somebody Else

Kyle was walking down the road, towards the town cemetery. Arcane had an enormous cemetery for a town so small. Kyle wondered if the entire town had been shrouded by death or it was just his life. There was no parking space beside it so they had parked on the top of the road. There was a downwards walk to it; as if one were walking down to hell. 

The entire town was on a form of a plateau, and in clusters of inhabitations. It had always been underdeveloped, but not due to lack of interest, but the citizen's choice. They seemed adamant on taking the name Arcane literally; the only sign of modernity was the town hall. It was an elaborate building, majestic in its grandeur. No expense was spared during its relocation and now it stood right in the center of it all. To its south were the houses of residence, where most of the people lived, there were a few other homes but they were sparsely spread out in the rest of the town. The cemetery was to its north, almost as if it were under the hill. A foundation of death to build it all. 

Kyle reached his bench and sat. There was an inscription with beautiful calligraphy engraved on its back. 

In the loving memory of Julianna Jones. Whose bravery will never be forgotten.

Kyle's mother was a part of the FBI, or at least that's what they had told him. He found it difficult to believe that there was a need for an FBI agent in their small town. There were more, at least they had an office in the west side, but everything seemed dubious to him. 

His fingers brushed the inscription until he felt Derek's gaze on him. He quickly removed his hand and made space for him.

Derek was a tall, muscular boy who could well be called a man, if it weren't for his age. He had wavy hair, the color of charcoal, and a beard that masked the innocence of his youth. He had an air of discipline about him, but a feral look in his eyes. As if a mask of control had been trained into him; perhaps even forced. While Kyle was all skin and bones, Derek was muscle and strength. He thought about how foolish he was trying to fight against someone like him. 

"How much has your father told you?"

"About what?"

"Oh, for god's sake Kyle, there is no one else here. You can lose the pretend game. Honestly, we don't have time for all this."

Kyle was incensed now; he didn't know how to convince them that he was completely clueless about what was going on. Not only in his own, but even in his best friend's life. The thought of Anya was twisting something in him. He wondered if Derek could see it on his face but when he looked up Derek was just waiting for him.

"Derek, I really don't know what you are talking about. The only reason I even know the word 'Imperial' is because your boys couldn't keep their whispering to themselves."

"They are not my boys. And I don't think they wanted to."

"What?"

"Keep it to themselves."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious, Kyle? They were waiting for you."

Kyle wanted to shake Derek and tell him to stop talking in storybook phrases; it was something Anya said often to him. She said that some sentences belonged only in books because when you said them out loud, they weren't appreciated enough. Kyle definitely wasn't appreciating anything that was coming out of Derek's mouth at that moment and he had a feeling he wasn't going to any time soon.

"Okay Derek," He was looking right at him to lay as much emphasis on this as he could, to make him understand that he was telling the truth. 

"Break it down for me. Think I am a five-year-old child who knows nothing."

"Oh, you are going to wish you were five again really soon," Derek muttered under his breath. 

"If you want to do this fine, I'll tell you everything, right from the beginning. All I ask from you is your honesty in return."

"Deal," Kyle didn't understand why that was necessary. He had been honest since the beginning. "Shake on it?"

"Sure." Derek had an odd smile playing on his face as he clasped his hand. It again reminded Kyle that he wasn't as straight-forward as he showed himself to be. The wildness in him waiting to peek through.

The sky was changing colors, the afternoon sun dimming down for a quiet evening- its yellows turning orange and clouds preparing themselves for sundown. The cemetery was still empty and Kyle could see his mother's grave from there. The yellow tulips he had kept on them two days ago withered away. There were wildflowers growing around her, as if in honor of her demise. Kyle always wondered what bravery everyone spoke about when they recalled her mother. Even on the grave, four words were etched out on the stone: Warrior, Mother, Wife, Friend. All he knew was the desk job she had, and his father's refusal to talk about her didn't help him understand either. 

"We are Imperials, Kyle." Derek wasn't looking at him while speaking but into the distance. His voice in a clear formal tone, as if reciting something told to him a long time ago. 

"We are a race that came before the humans- before Adam and Eve ate their evil fruit or whatever version of the story you believe. We come from a time when the Earth was greener and the sky a hundred times bluer. We have evolved into something else today but there was a time when we were a kingdom; the only kingdom ever supposed to be." A dark shadow passed on Derek's face, but he went on anyway. 

"Safe to say, none of that exists anymore. Maybe these are just stories told to us but I once read somewhere that all the stories are true.

"We were a noble race, of artists and scholars. We were created for a higher purpose, one which we were to understand in the years to come; but at the very beginning of everything- we were simply people, living our lives, never realizing that we were different. Then came the humans. That's when everything changed. We realized we were different, and just how different." Derek gave a dark chuckle. 

"We were far more superior than them, our eyes could see a hundred miles ahead, our ears almost as sharp as a bat's and our strength, it was glorious. We were glorious."

"Until we lost control. From a race of artists, we turned into warriors. We had to."

Kyle couldn't keep himself from asking, "Why?" There was something so bitter in Derek's voice that it hurt his ears to listen to someone speak of so much loss.

"To survive, Kyle. Humans have a nasty tendency of destroying anything that is different. To save ourselves, we changed into something else- no one knows how but they call it the curse."

Derek looked lost in his story, his eyes imagining the world he spoke of. He had stopped speaking, his fists opening and closing in rhythmic movements. 

"Why?"

Derek looked at Kyle now, "What?"

"You said we realized our purpose later, everything has one, so what is ours?"

This time Derek's smile wasn't hidden behind his mask of control. He was completely the philistine Kyle knew was hiding behind his disguise. The smile was just as cold as it was sweet, "We were made to save them."

"Save whom?"

"The humans."

"From what? And don't tell me some evil species or demons of some sort because now that would just be taking a page out of some morbid comic book."

At that moment, Derek looked savage, a terrible source of bitter pride, "We were made to save humans from themselves."