Boundary Line

Even under normal circumstances, Slater despised having someone call out to him on the street; This situation, though, made his stomach drop even more than during his traditional nightly rounds. He slowly turned to face the man, throwing together his most natural looking face he could make in three seconds.

“Just heading home, what about you sir?” Slater got out of his mouth before even registering who he was talking to.

The man who was now walking towards him he immediately noticed was not as old as his voice would suggest, looking only to be in his late twenties when his voice had made Slater shudder from how stern it had been. His most prominent features were a white cloak that was draped around his gray clothing beneath, short black hair that was slightly messy giving a sense of him being an ordinary man topped on his head, and a mysterious blue glow coming from his hand Slater could not make sense of. However, he had no chance to dwell on that as the man drew ever closer.

“Me and my colleagues are looking for a fugitive in disguise who was sighted in this area, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about those claims, would you?”

The man had an inquisitive look on his face, but one Slater didn’t see as hostile.

Slater out his left hand on the back of his head, rubbing it slightly as he had a not-so-serious apologetic expression plastered on his face. “Sorry, sir, I haven’t been out too long, so I haven’t really seen anything.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” The man nodded as he seemingly contemplated things a bit. Slater breathed a sigh of relief as the man’s soften composure caused a similar response in him. “Well, have a safe walk home, there are dangerous people out at this time.” The man gave a smile, and a small wave.

“Thank you, you do the same, sir.” Slater replied automatically, giving a small wave back, before turning and heading on his way back home. He had tried to find the most inoffensive goodbye he could to get out of the situation, and seemingly it had worked, that is, until—

“Uh, pardon me, but I have one more question, kid.”

The voice of the man sent chills throughout Slater’s entire body. Trying to calm himself once more, he did a similar slow turn, but his composure immediately fell when he came face to face with the hardened stare meeting him in return.

“O-oh, and that is?” Slater irked out, despite his chaotic mental state.

“Oh, it’s nothing much, but you did say you were heading home, right? But, you also said you weren’t out here long enough to see anything of note. So, what exactly were you doing out this late?” The man’s hand was placed on his chin, but his expression was anything but comforting.

“Well, I—“

“Before you answer that, whatever you make up should at least address whatever is on your shoulder there, right?” His hand poked out slightly to point at the light gray bundle, which Slater’s free hand had instinctively attempted to guard as his other hand began brandishing his pipe.

Slater bit his lip. “I was prepared for this.” He thought, over and over. “So why am I so scared?”

“Careful, boy,” The cloaked man returned his hand to his coat as the blue glow from before began growing. “Don’t cross a line you can’t retreat back behind.”

The defiant boy let out a staggered laugh, legs shaking. “Funny you should say that—“

Slater kicked off the ground, causing the man to put his arms up in a cross for defense. However, the pipe in Slater’s hand never made contact with his arms. In fact, the pipe no longer was in Slater’s hands, as it spun through the air and hit its mark directly on the man’s head. As he was knocked backwards from the impact, the man heard a sloppily thrown out: “Retreating is exactly what I’m gonna do!”

His legs ached, as he sprinted as fast as he could through the winding streets and alleys, assuming the man would give chase, in an attempt to lose his pursuer before he got home. The last thing he needed was to bring trouble back home for Lillian. When this thought crossed his mind, Slater suddenly felt his stomach drop even more. Thinking of home, he naturally remembered the potatoes he was steaming for dinner. The ones he’d completely forgotten about over the course of the night.

Before his thoughts could develop his dread even further, Slater noticed a tingling sensation in his feet. Looking down, he saw that under his worn out black boots, a small current of water was flowing through the alleyway. Observing the surrounding area, Slater saw no sources of water. So where could it be coming from? His mind didn’t ponder the thought long before the liquid began coiling up from beneath him, grasping at his arms to restrain him. As a knee-jerk reaction, he wrestled himself free, but his body froze again when he heard a familiar voice come from the exit to the alleyway.

Leaning against the wall of the alley, the white-cloaked man stood with his arms crossed and head lowered, his finger wagging to chide Slater once again. “This could’ve been a lot easier if you just took this lying down. Now you’re making me have to get serious.” He said, moving towards Slater and letting the blue glow’s source under his cloak show. A small silver orb which fit in the man’s hand, the blue being sourced from translucent blue surfaces inside the rims of the silver orb, a white inscription in the middle of the blue face seeming to symbolize a water drop. Immediately he connected the device and the predicament he currently found under his feet.

Noticing the boy before him’s confusion, the man let out a small laugh. “Oh, right. People down here never would’ve seen a core typically, would they?” The tendrils of water began snagging at Slater once again, as the man continued past his rhetorical. “Not like you’d need to know anyway—“

The liquid, acting faster than Slater could, constricted around his body, and swung him around in the air for a few moments before throwing his body through the air and into a wall of the alley. Sliding down, the light gray bundle on his back found its way into Slater’s lap, the bandages somewhat undoing themselves from the water’s abuse.

Approaching Slater for what he hoped would be the last time, the man let the water he commanded curl around him until it formed a spike poised over his shoulder. He gave a small sigh containing a tinge of disappointment and a dash of boredom.

“You know, I’ve been a bit unfair to you. You take hits pretty well, so how’s about I give you the chance to give up that thing in your lap to me and we forget this ever happened?”

Slater heard the man’s words. Yet again, he could step away from all of this now. But Slater felt himself shivering from the slight dampness that had intruded into his clothes from the water, the same shivering he had felt five years ago laying down, covered in snow.

Why am I here?

Because I haven’t lost yet.

But what if I do lose?

That doesn’t matter.

Slater slowly began taking the bandages off the object, refusing to make eye contact.

The man noticed what was unveiled before Slater did.

“What the hell?! That’s—“

It was a sleek and smooth white object, with a very obvious black handle protruding out of the domed structure. Light blue trims ran throughout the white domed portion, but the object itself showed no sign of needing the large bundle he had been given. It had been deceptively large, almost counterintuitive to an object he could hold in his hand that was meant to be hidden.

Before he could analyze it further, the man above him continued railing him with demands, most of which Slater had tuned out until now.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on that thing! As soon as I see your fingers move to it I’ll pierce you right through the heart!” The man’s aforementioned demands began to sound more and more like pleas.

Now ending his momentary fixation of the object, Slater grasped the now cast aside light gray bandages. “Given a choice between going home and dying here,” Slater’s hand became a vice grip on the bandages. “Dying here sounds a lot better than letting my sister tear me apart!” Slater yelled out, as he released the bandages in the man’s face, distracting him long enough to get a firm grip on the object’s handle.

A light blue glow rung out as the lines along the dome began separating, as if waking its eyes from a long slumber. In that instant, the blue light engulfed the entire alleyway.

“Damn it, kid!” The man yelled out in anger and despair, thrusting his hand forward and sweat droplets flinging off his face, his water spear following through with his arm’s movements, and hitting a direct hit on its target.