Interlude - Gale 2

“She’s taking too long,” Draven said. 

Gale looked up from a nail he’d been picking at. A vein throbbed in his head. Draven had done nothing but bitch and moan the whole time they’d been standing there. The moron never shut up. I’m so done listening to this…

“Stop shit-talking my girlfriend.”

One of his hands flexed, ready to summon the Hero’s Sword. Gale looked at Draven, a light frown across his face. The prick had been talking with Aria too much—the sight of them laughing together had him feeling restless. 

“Actually, don’t talk to her at all. You don’t deserve it.”

Draven laughed. “You’re quite different when your woman isn’t hanging on your arm.”

Gale’s lips curled. He was about to respond, when Mirabelle beat him to it.

“‘His’ woman? Hardly. I doubt she could stand any cage, no matter how gilded. She is more like…an alley cat.”

Gale chuckled. Yeah, that fit. He pictured Aria’s stubborn face, her unwillingness to admit to being loved. Starved for attention yet irritated to receive it. His favorite person. Gale’s heart skipped as he thought of her.

He’d been so afraid of fucking up. When they’d transported to this strange new world, he’d never imagined that Aria would be so happy to have changed, and he knew even less that he’d feel the same. Aria felt so much more comfortable to be around than anyone else he’d ever dated. Not that the others were bad. His exes on Earth were…decent women. He’d never been hurt. Gale usually did the hurting, despite lacking ill-intention. 

Assuming he had time to date, anyways. That wasn’t possible past a few awkward coffee meetups after he took over the duties for Zoe. He’d barely had time to hang out even with ‘Aaron’. Gale grimaced. The name rolled like an oiled lump in his mind. Aria fit so much better. 

He recalled the first time he’d heard her new name—when they’d left the restaurant in Shortleaf. He remembered Aria flinching as the name floated out, the undetected insecurity in her face. ‘Is it weird?’ 

Gale smiled. Had she genuinely not known how pretty she was? He almost couldn’t believe it, but considering it was her, it made sense. He glanced towards the building. He wanted to see her. A magnetic pull in his chest thrummed inside of him, to the point of it almost hurting. Her face, her hands. Her smile, her laugh. All of her, Gale needed her. 

Gale’s hands flexed into a ball. He stopped his foot from tapping in impatience. 

Aria.

Where was Aria?

Was she ok?

Did she get hurt?

Maybe the idiot got into trouble? He set his teeth. 

“Fuck it.”

Gale walked towards the warehouse. 

Draven and Mirabelle followed at his heels. 

“What are you doing?” Mirabelle asked.

“What we should have done in the first place.”

Draven chuckled. “We finally agree on something.”

Gale’s hand dipped as his sword manifested in it, the weight pulling it down. “Just try not to kill anyone. Aria’d be pissed.”

“Of course.” “No promises.”

They exited the alleyway. The guards at the front were fewer than had been there before. Only three remained. What had happened? Had Aria drawn them away? Gale’s sweat ran cold. If they did anything to her…hurt her…

Hero be damned. There’d be a new Demon Lord.

The guards looked up at the group’s approach, eyes widening in panic. The first opened his mouth to shout. Draven jumped in front of him, sealing his mouth with a thin jet of flame in his gullet. The guard crumpled to the ground, writhing in agony. 

Gale flew towards another, sword swinging in a flash of purple. It was light in his hand, a graceful instrument of death held in check by the flimsy rules his girlfriend had insisted on. He stopped himself short of what he thought could be fatal strikes. Thin ribbons of blood streaked in the air, spraying in graceful arcs of crimson-hued-violet. 

Mirabelle thrust a spear into the leg of another man. He cried out in pain as he fell.

The guards crumpled like pieces of wet paper.

Gale kicked the door open. It was unlocked. Had that been Aria’s doing? Had she gotten that far? The group walked past the unconscious guards, entering the building. 

It was eerily quiet. 

Gale strode in, letting the tip of his sword scratch against the stone. A signal of the coming storm. I hope this thing doesn’t dull…

Whatever, this looked cool. If he had to sharpen it later, he’d just do it without Aria’s knowledge. He hefted the blade on his shoulder. The pure aura he’d manifested with the move made up for his lack of confidence. He was sure the enemy would be shaking in their boots. 

He could never let Aria know that he was a bigger weeb than her. It was his one source of constant belittlement. Gale made fun of Aria’s phone wallpaper, but had never shown her the five alternative backgrounds he flipped between when they weren’t together. Or the many pc wallpapers he’d hidden in shame. If anyone was versed in cheesy lines and cool sword tricks, it was him. Too bad the hero’s sword isn’t a katana.

His steps echoed ahead of him, drawing the attention of more goons from the surrounding rooms. He counted at least twenty. He looked towards Mira and Draven. “Leave them to me.”

Mira raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Gale smirked, raising his blade to the crowd. 

“Come and get me.”

He flourished his sword in a graceful spin as they approached. Gale slipped into the guard of the first one that reached him. With the Hero’s abilities, he was faster, stronger too, and easily pushed him into his friend, before slicing into them with shallow strokes. The sword cut like a hot knife through butter, leaving bloody lines in its path. This is insane…how easy would it be to accidentally kill someone? He had thought the sword was somewhat lackluster when he’d fought Sylvia, but he realized now it was simply a difference in skill. Just how strong was she? Gale pondered his past opponent as he dispatched the men in front of him. 

The first two fell in pain, and Gale parried an incoming projectile, a knife thrown by a man in the back. The whistle of it caused his body to react before his mind. Gale frowned, his attention drawn, but another three rushed up to him holding knives. Their footwork was sloppy, and even with the superior numbers, they failed to take advantage of it. 

Gale flipped his sword into a guard, blocking another projectile, before naturally moving the blade into an arc to slice the three in front of him. He stepped on their bodies, pushing off of one like a springboard to shoot towards the man throwing daggers in the back. 

A silver blur of movement caused Gale to flinch, stumbling to the side as something zipped towards him. His eyes tracked the blade as it flew, and his hand reached out on its own to grab it. 

Gale’s fingers clasped around the handle and, using its own momentum, flung it back towards the sender with a spin. Afterwards, he looked behind towards Mira and Draven with a smile. They simply stared at him, hardly a reaction. Seriously? Aria would be freaking out about how cool that was…These two are such sticks in the mud.

Gale grumbled as he viciously cut through another four, the rest backing away in fear as he confidently approached. He smirked at their cowardice. Gale had been a hero for weeks, but never had he felt it quite so profoundly until now. His other foes would have left him in a grave were it not for Aria’s healing. 

Heavy footsteps echoed through the quiet hall. His eyes widened as someone approached.

He was tall, a full head over the others, wearing the same garb, and his hard-cut face was lined with scars. His muscles were visible below the uniform. Gale gulped, raising his sword instinctively. Here we go…

“Need help with this one?” Draven asked.

Gale grit his teeth. “No.”

He couldn’t let his pride as a player of difficult games be discarded here. He’d do this one alone. 

The tall man shook the floor with his steps, his height dwarfing Gale’s own. Gale held his sword with both hands, shaking away his nerves. If he could fight a spider-monster, he could fight a normal man. 

The man’s body twisted with a windup, before releasing with a deadly snap as a fist thundered towards Gale, the force of it causing him to duck in a panic. Deflect it, idiot, he’s using bare hands!

Still crouched, Gale shot in low, tracing his sword towards the man’s ankles. His blow was stopped short by a shield that materialized just in front of the blade. Gale’s footing slipped from the backlash of the blow. Magic?! 

He jumped backwards just in time as a fist hit the stone he was standing on. The surface cracked beneath the weight. The tall man grinned at Gale.

Gale swallowed, rolling as he stood back up to his feet. If that were his body, his bones would be dust. Could Aria’s healing cure him if he were a pancake? No need to find out. He tightened his fingers around the hilt.

“Nice magic,” Gale said. The man’s use of it reminded him of the gift Aria had given him previously. How could he have forgotten to use it?

The man grunted, before throwing another punch at Gale. This time, Gale was prepared, and he used Aspsis to block the blow for him with a shield, while slicing towards the man’s throat with the blade. 

A second forcefield appeared in front of the tall man’s gullet, saving him at the last second. Damn! 

They each backed up a step.

 “You have one too,” The man said, “But I think mine’s better.”

Gale leveled his blade at him. “This was a gift from my girlfriend. There is nothing better.”

The man’s face shriveled in anger. “I hate kids like you. Struttin’ around like you own the place, just cus’ yer handsome. You make me sick.”

Gale blinked. “…What?”

The man cracked his knuckles. “I’m gonna enjoy breaking that pretty face ‘o yers.” 

He was in front of Gale in half a moment. A hand grabbed Gale by the throat before he could react and lifted him into the air. Gale struggled against gravity, trying to breathe, before a rush of vertigo overcame him as he was slammed onto the ground.

Stinging pain. His head rocked with splinters of agony as his breath escaped him. Gale reached up, grasping the man’s wrist, pushing against the choking pressure.

He pushed his body up, trying to gain ground, but the weight of the man’s knees stopped him short. Gale couldn’t catch his breath, his lungs starting to burn as he tried to breathe. 

His nails scratched at the man’s wrist. Gale’s vision started to blur.

Am I going to die here? Now? To this no name grunt?

No. He couldn’t. He refused to die unless it was after Aria was happy. Fear and anger flooded his brain as his vision started to go black.

No…I can’t. I won’t. I…I love…

Nothingness. 

Gale sat on a swing-set, kicking his feet as the afternoon sun bore down on his head. He listened to the distant yells of his classmates, dragging the tips of his shoes in the small pebbles beneath his feet. The rusty hinge of the swing croaked as he pushed back and forth. He closed his eyes, letting the sun’s warmth wash his face. He enjoyed the quiet.

He was accustomed to spending recess alone. It wasn’t his choice, though he certainly never tried to avoid the outcome. It was just how it went. The others stopped talking to Gale after what had happened, and he let them. There was no point. He’d be moving again soon, anyways. They always moved. Gale hadn’t spent more than 6 months at a single school for as long as he could remember. Any friends he’d made so far were long gone. 

So he sat alone. He opened his eyes, and the world was tinted blue. It was his favorite thing to do on the swing. Let his eyes adjust to the dark beneath his lids, then see the world in a different color. He blinked a few times before closing them again. 

The crunch of gravel caught his attention. Someone sat in the swing next to his. Gale ignored it. 

“Hey!” Someone said. 

Gale ignored that too.

“Hey!”

“…”

The gravel crunched again as the person stood, walking towards Gale. A finger poked his cheek. “Can you hear me? Are you one of those ‘death’ people I heard about?”

The voice was full of concern, which confused Gale. Still, the sentence forced a wry chuckle from him. His hand reached up and clasped around the finger still poking his cheek. 

“Do you mean ‘deaf’?” 

“That’s what I said.”

Gale cracked an eye open, incredulous. 

The sun painted the playground in a brilliant gold, and the child in front of him was no different. A happy looking kid about Gale’s age stood there, his usually drab hair color patterned and dappled with the day’s colors. 

The boy’s eye’s widened. “Wow! Green eyes are so badass!”

Gale’s lips twitched. “Uh, thanks.”

The boy pulled his finger from Gale’s grasp and smiled brilliantly. “If I had green eyes I’d never close them! My mom has this say-lean sole-stuff she uses in her eyes when they get dry, and I’d totally use that.”

“Uh…Yeah they’re ok. I guess.”

Who is this kid? So talkative. It’s kinda…nice though.

He stuck out a hand. “Hey! Can we be friends?!”

Gale smiled slightly. Was that how making friends was supposed to be done? Just one sentence and a handshake?

He sighed, exasperated, but clasped the boy’s hand nonetheless. Was it his infectious joy that made the daylight so vibrant? 

“I’m Gale.”

The boy’s smile stretched even wider. He grinned like he’d found a stash of candy.

“Your name is so cool! Mine sucks!”

Gale laughed. “Yeah? What’s your name?”

The boy frowned. 

“My name is—”

ARIA.

Gale’s eyes snapped open. He bit his tongue as he looked up at the man holding him down. He clawed his nails into the man’s wrist, and used his feet to kick at his stomach with all his strength. Gale summoned wind magic to his hand, and pushed into him with all the strength he could muster. His clothes violently flapped in the wind as it swirled into his hand in a vortex.

They were separated with a violent gush of air, sending Gale careening backwards. He rolled three times before catching his balance and his breath. Heaving gasps teared up his eyes as he looked upwards. Never close my eyes, huh? Sorry, Aria. I’ll do better.

“Thought you were dead there,” Draven called out. Gale flipped him off. 

“Do you need assistance?” Mira asked, rubbing his back. 

“No.”

Gale gently pushed her back and walked towards the tall man again. He narrowed his eyes. 

He re-summoned his sword to his hand. The big guy sneered.

“Scared yet, little man?”

He said nothing. He put the blade into a sheathed position, his off-hand acting as its cover. Within his palm, surrounding the blade, he summoned his wind. Saw this in an anime once. I’ll try it.

Gale shot towards his foe, keeping his center of balance low. The man readied himself.

“Try all you like, my shield’ll block whatever you throw. I’m snappin’ your neck next time!”

Gale ignored him as the distance closed in an instant. His brain whirred at top speed as they neared. 

The world was in slow motion.

Gale, still lowered, put one foot sideways, halting his momentum as he slid, readying himself to jump. 

The man reached towards Gale with both hands, smiling in victory. 

Gale used the last of his momentum and pushed against the floor as hard as he could, using wind magic on the bottom of his feet. 

He flipped into the air, spinning as he passed the man’s head. 

Gale nearly kept flying, but at the last moment, he summoned Aspis behind his feet, catching his weight on it midair, facing the nape of the man’s neck. 

Still aloft, Gale used the wind in his left palm as a boost for his sword. It rocketed out in an arc, the blade a near supersonic blur in the air as it sliced towards his opponent. The enemy’s shield materialized a step behind Gale’s blade, unable to keep up with the speed. Sorry I couldn’t keep my promise, Aria. I can’t afford to hold back if it means us staying together. 

The separation of head from body was easier than he could have imagined. He only had a moment to parse the gore of it before gravity claimed him, and he fell from the Aspis platform he’d created to the ground. 

The breath was taken from him again as his back met stone. He laid there for a moment, head spinning from the dizziness of flying through the air. Should he have been happy of his victory? I killed him…

Draven and Mira marched forward, taking down the rest of the goons. Gale didn’t move. His head spun over the events of the last few minutes over and over and over again. Blood. Blood. Blood. 

He rolled over as the image of the head separating filled his mind again, causing him to retch. He threw up twice before he realized he was crying. The sounds of battle grew distant. Gale sat back, splaying his legs out. 

His head was blank.

It wasn’t until Mira shook his shoulder that he realized the battle was done. 

“Gale,” She said, holding his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

He looked at her. Alright? He had just murdered a man. Could it even be called self-defense? Wasn’t he a murderer? Wasn’t he a villain? How had he not realized this wasn’t a game until now?

He shook his head and stood with her help. He couldn’t think. He needed something. Someone. He needed Aria.

He stepped forwards, ignoring the concerned gaze of Mira and the curious expression of Draven. 

Will she still be with a murderer?

Gale shuffled forwards. If there were any further opponents in their way, Gale wouldn’t know. He saw nothing but the picture of his kill in his head.

They arrived at an iron double door. Was this the boss’s office? Gale pulled himself together best he could. He had to be there if Aria was hurt. He’d kill again if he had to, even if he wasn’t ready. For her. 

The doors swung open, and everyone’s mouth dropped open in shock.