V — Roger

As if by some twisted sense of fate or an incredibly bad coincidence, Sam overheard screams from the other edge of the clearing. They were muffled and muted through the tent, but Sam had trained enough from back then that he could sense danger by hearing it. It was still imperfect though, since he still carried some heavy burdens, especially after finding out that someone he thought he had cut off, finally found him.

He was still locked onto an embrace with Kat, but the moment he turned his face towards the direction of the enemy, Kat started shivering again. This time, she wasn’t cold or scared of what might happen. Kat was terrified of what is happening currently, as she felt surges of negative magic resonating outside with life forces of people she knew. Kat gasped in terror and clasped her hands to her mouth.

“It’s,” she tried to start, tears welling up in her eyes as she struggled to warn Sam. “They’re here—”

Coincidence had some bad timings, Sam realized. As soon as Kat had finished her frightened thought, an explosion was heard and Sam hurried out into the outside, clutching his bow. His quiver latched onto him like Kat had just done like a lifeline, but Sam knew then and Sam knew now that this quiver is half of his lifeline: if he ran out of arrows, it is game over. Sam rushed towards the edge of the clearing, and the sight that beholden him there could possibly etch a similar memory to what he had recently reclaimed.

Bell sounds. Adults screaming. Fire raged from where the explosion had occurred. It was absolute chaos.

Sam remembered it like it was yesterday.

The stench of grime and ash, the cries of the children running for help, adults getting slayed left and right, families torn apart—

It was the same scene.

Sam trembled.

From all the chaos in the surroundings, his heart flared like it wanted to beat itself out of his own heart. As the flames grew hotter and fanned even more devastating fires, his soul got rattled and his calm senses became catalysts for gale winds that had an ultimate showdown to duke it out one last time. Sam heard his heart beat erratically. He tried to think of ways to make everything right again. The scenario that was unfolding in front of him like a slowly unraveling canvas felt like deja vu to him.

He clenched his bow.

The gale winds that were tormenting his soul surged as fire that burned bright red like his crimson hair. He had to do something.

He couldn’t let this happen again.

His eyes locked onto a wolf that was about to ravage some innocent children. The adult that had tried to stop it was now a carcass the wolf used to intimidate, itself successful as the children were struck in deep soot and sobbing intensely as they cried for mercy from the wolf, to no avail.

Sam had a good shot.

And with the flames in his soul reaching a breaking point, he aimed towards the wolf.

Then, he shot.

The shot came in the blink of an eye, and pierced the wolf through the eyes, instantly dying as it fell on top of the dead man. The terrified children, confused at what had happened, looked over yonder, trying to trace who had effectively silenced a predator about to feast on them as dinner.

But as they looked, Sam had already vanished.

Lightning struck the clouds like the familiar flashes that Sam had reminisced from back then.

Now, it was his turn to strike back.

Just as he had done with the wolf pack that had been chasing him, he swiftly moved across to where the wolves had terrorized and the adults that had survived fighting back ended up in awe as they saw multiple wolves being broken down to carcasses, lifeless.

Sam spared no wolf. He had no wasted movements.

Just efficiency.

Just like how Diana moved, Sam did as well, unconsciously mirroring her through his strikes and shots, as if he himself was possessed by his dearly departed beloved sister. Those who had seen him move and survived the wolf ambush had their eyes glistening in awe, some even with slight reverence. The children he had saved first became even more impressed at how he was handling the packs.

Though he had enough eyes mesmerizing his ways, Sam’s heart is still in a frenzy.

He had been panting, despite being efficient, only because he knew who was behind everything.

As much as possible though, Sam remained in his sister’s words.

He held steady, with no extra movements. He breathed every time he shot. Every shot was not wasted either: each dispatched wolf had an arrow striking somewhere or having an effect that killed them instantly, or slowly in the case of poisoned arrows.

Sam was dancing through the clearing dispatching wolves.

In a chaotic opera, one did a ballet of order.

———————————————

Sam had been dancing around the town and its clearing, clearing out pathways for people to cross safely again, leaving wolves in carcasses that should give the wolves a clear indication that they should not mess with them.

But these were not the normal wild dire wolves.

They were being controlled.

And sowing chaos became the irony that bestowed upon these wolves under a pretense of order.

As Sam landed at the center of the clearing, he was surrounded by multiple dire wolves that had waited for him down at the clearing. Haze thickened their visions, and Sam and the wolves knew that once they make one wrong move, it is over. Sam, in particular, only had a few sets of arrows left in his quiver. There’s no more time to waste, and he needed to escape but more importantly, he swore unto himself that he will protect the town.

Especially if someone from his untimely past marked them for death.

Sam didn’t want that to happen.

And it’s either by pure luck or good coincidence, he was not alone.

Suddenly the wolves that were surrounding him disappeared slowly one by one during their standoff. An uncharacteristically surprised in battle version of Sam propped up as he tried to find out, still having his bow drawn, why the wolves are reducing in number. Perhaps they had broken free of Byleck’s control, but that’s unlikely the case: dark magic while dark is still powerful enough to bend will like normal elite spells.

In the corner of Sam’s ear, through the thick of the haze that surrounded him and the remaining wolves, he heard a voice. It was faint, but Sam steadily made out what the voice was saying.

“Arise, ground above,” it started, commanding in tone, but youthful in cadence.

Sam could only think of one person who had that tone and cadence. The voice itself was red-hot just like the crimson that dripped from the wolf carcasses and even Sam’s own crimson hair, but it was unmistakably youthful. Brash yet strong. Reckless, yet powerful.

The voice continued, becoming clearer as it inched closer and closer through the thickness of the haze.

“…seek asylum to those who seek it…”

Sam closed his eyes, letting the sound of the breeze and whimpering noises of wolves getting pierced through the ground one by one. The last of the spell came after, Sam focusing intently on the mana source behind it.

“…and crush those who defile refuge!”

The earth moved around the remaining wolves, piercing others and burying some, appearing to the naked eye that the world itself had rejected them. The cacophony of earth shaking that way, along with whimpers and cries of the wolves surrounded Sam’s ears as he continued to close his eyes, taking in the breeze finally cutting through the haze. He concentrated on the stillness of the earth, not so much meditating but more so resetting himself, seeking asylum as the voice had once said.

Then Sam opened his eyes.

He smiled. Soft, showing relief in his face.

Through the last of the haze, a figure stood. His hands were clasped together, now apart to reveal himself. He was still bandaged from the beating he had received previously, but stood confidently as if he had saved the best of the fight for last. His hair flowed through the breeze, eliminating the rest of the haze, and smirked confidently in front of Sam.

“Ya missed me, princess?”

“Not quite.”

He frowned instantly. “Huh?! Ya pickin’ a fight or what?!”

Sam chuckled to himself. He hadn’t made a single joke ever since he arrived here, and that little gesture proved to the standing lad that Sam had seen through his bravado.

“You look well, Roger.”

”You look like shit.”

Sam closed his eyes. “I’ve never been better.”

Roger glanced behind him, sensing a dark and powerful aura surrounded by a bunch of wolves, those that remained after Roger had slaughtered the ones in the clearing.

“Think ya can keep up?”

Sam prepared to draw. “Let’s take them down.”

Roger donned his bandana and the red hot-labelled gloves that he uses. Pumped and full of life, despite being damaged, he punched his fists together, generating a spark that seemed like a miniature lightning bolt at first glance. Roger had been gearing for a round two with a bunch of the wolves, and having mostly recovered from his duties, gazed with furious intent at the wolves in front of him, tracing from them towards the force of negative energy.

He laughed. “Ya didn’t have to say it.”

Sam lunged. Roger followed.

The wolves charged through towards them as they clashed under the dust-filed dusk breaking into clear dawn.

———————————————

Dawn broke into a clearing that was normally silent with still grass being the only ones making the sound or howling from haze being pierced through by the breeze.

But dawn time now broke all the rules of nature. From the noise that disrupted the flow of the ground, to the clashes between arrow and pure mana-powered fist fights against negative mana-influenced wild beasts that seemed to thunder more than what had once bellowed during flash storms, the dawn breaking in the clearing was anything but silent and serene.

For them, it was a bloodbath.

Roger flung some wolves around, ripping off heads through his earth magic, and then using those heads to bludgeon the other charging wolves. Some had the chance to tackle Roger from behind and give him another opening to the wound he had sustained, but Roger was not alone this time.

Same shot through the eyelid of one of the wolves, piercing it enough for Roger to catch it as it fell towards Sam’s direction. Roger hurled the dead wolf through other wolves, catching them unawares as they unknowingly bite their deceased comrade. Sam used the bow’s blunt edges to slice through some of the wolves’ necks, killing them instantly.

From around the growling alpha, a negative presence became rattled with confusion and anger, as he clutched his own shoulders. He appeared to shiver as he clung onto the alpha, his face streaked with tears of anger and despair.

“I can’t believe you, Sammy,” the voice started. Byleck. “Why do you always do this to me?!”

He bawled and screamed, allowing himself to wallow in deeper despair as he instructed the alpha something, making room for the dark magic he seeded deeper into it. Supercharged with negative aura, the alpha lunged forward as Roger and Sam were quickly dispatching the other wolves, who were reduced in number.

“Haha, ya like that?! That’s what ya get for messin’ with the—”

“Roger, look out!”

Immediately, Sam tackled Roger down as the alpha crashed onto a nearby abandoned tent. The alpha wolf, the last remaining wolf, had missed and its anger—fueled by Byleck’s own—was starting to seep into the senses of both Sam and Roger. Roger, pinned down by Sam, shoved him off as he made eye contact with the alpha.

Roger hadn’t been the strongest person alive.

He used to cry so much, like any normal kid would.

Even after gaining powers, he thought he was inadequate.

But he thought of his senpai: Ellen. He thought of Kat. He thought of everyone across the clearing towards the main town proper. He thought of the drunk uncles who would mentor him while they watched the gate for intruders.

He stopped, and time seemed to stop along with him. Unknowingly taking a page from Sam’s book, he took a deep breath and kept himself steady.

He wanted to be a hero, and this was his chance.

He stared back at the alpha, and prepared a stance Sam only recognized as a martial arts stance. Roger was terrified, and he himself knew that, but in his periphery, Sam dusted himself off, ready to shoot if things went awry.

Sam could not bear the thought of this kid taking everything by himself.

He hadn’t had the chance to make sure he would try.

“Hey, archer.”

Sam looked at Roger, still drawing his bow towards the alpha.

“Let me handle this.”

Sam knew he was going to say something like that. However, what Sam didn’t expect was Roger's own eyes at that moment. It burned like the fire that was in Sam when he saved the children. It burned like the fire that he had seen in that village. It burned like the fire that was through his red hot gloves, calloused and stained crimson from all the wolves he had taken down. It burned with resolve, a resolution Roger had already known since he was a young child.

Out of respect for the kid, Sam lowered his bow, still preparing to attack in case Roger wanted him to or he got incapacitated.

Sam didn’t want any of that to happen, yet he chose to let him handle the alpha at that moment.

The alpha charged at him, and the showdown began.

———————————————

Roger felt the center of the universe was placed upon him. He waved his hands in circular motion like he carried the weight of the entire world. He stopped to breathe, something Sam stared intently with awe at. For a while, this hot-headed kid seemed to be on top of the world when it came to being zen; he seemed to have figured everything regarding meditation.

Roger’s soul is on fire. He opened his eyes slightly, and Sam had noticed as well.

His senpai. Ellen.

“Roger!”

She screamed from across the clearing with Roger himself hearing her. His cheeks flowed with tears, as the alpha charged in front of him, towards him: wanting to take his head off, as the negative mana fueling his anger so desired to accomplish.

Ellen came around the clearing and Sam had noticed her presence already. Sam gestured at her to leave, but Ellen had already fallen onto her knees, tears sobbing as she tried to wipe them out.

“No… no, no, no, please Roger! Don’t do this!”

Roger breathed steadily. Waves of air gathered around Roger. Ellen knew it was too late, and Sam stood shocked, still drawing his bow.

“I’m sorry, Senpai.”

The alpha jumped to take his head off, but Roger was whispering a thread of words that, in his psyche, was just the fulfillment of a dream. Inside his head he heard the drunk uncles, reminding him of what he had done for them.

“Whaddaya want to do now, kid?”

A younger Roger blinked. He gazed into his present, presently being attacked by a massive charging wolf.

Roger smiled. “Imma show ya how to do it.”

Roger breathed in and using the balance he centered, he lifted his face, the alpha only grazing part of his chin.

Then like a flash, Roger kicked the alpha through the stomach. The sound thundering through the clearing and reaching the wilderness of the forest. The force became too great that it pulsated: Sam felt the force and used his bow to guard himself; Ellen was thrown aback by the impact; the others were thrown significantly aback.

The alpha was not spared. Immediately as Roger struck him, blood sprayed through the alpha as it was hurled backwards, falling through a tent that collapsed instantly.

Roger steeled his stance. He breathed heavily and through the eyes of Sam, Ellen, or any bystander, he didn’t look the same. He became paler, a small portion of his hair streaked white, and his whole face was disheveled. It can’t be blamed from the soot or grime anymore; everyone was experiencing soot and grime from the haze.

“Cool.”

Roger fell onto the ground.