The alarm clock shrieks violently, awakening Kiara from her naptime. She checks her phone: Math final prep–5/26. Chemistry test 5/24. Ela–accomplished. History–5/24.
Soon she'll be out and ready for adventure and beach time, no need to worry about that math teacher's voice anymore. The sun stretches over the horizon, treating Kiara to her last school weekend. She walks down the stairs, being greeted by her grandfather cooking breakfast and Evander lounging around on the table seat.
"So who wants pancakes?" Edward asks, unveiling plates of freshly warm quick breads to the two.
"I need something sugary to get my neurons working," Kiara exudes, taking a mean bite out of her food. She rubs her eyes, staring at the calendar. Two months of madness crammed into what currently felt like forever.
"So what do you think is the next threat going to happen? It's been kind of quiet lately—" Evander asks, causing Kiara to shove a pancake in his mouth to shut him up. Her throat slightly closed up due to how much she accidentally pushed into his mouth.
"Don't do that, kid," Evander warns, spitting out the food.
"Don't say the Q word," Kiara points her finger, all serious.
"Quiet?" Evander coughs, clutching his throat. He picks up the glass of milk, sipping on its contents.
"Yes, it's a curse word," Kiara explains, waving her pancake-pierced fork. "You never stay quiet around here. It causes nothing but harm for people."
"It does for me," Edward mutters, walking into the dining room. "Alright, you two–the house is yours. Kiara, train and study well. Evander…just do whatever you want whenever me or Kiara are gone."
Kiara and Evander look at each other as Edward leaves to do his usual Warden business.
"So how about you train me?" Kiara enthusiastically insinuates, her fork floating in Evander's personal space like a sword.
"I'm not training you," Evander says flatly.
"What do you need? What do you want?" Kiara stammers, trying to make Evander feel an ounce of sympathy. "I just want to teleport."
"I just want to do nothing and relax," Evander scoffs. "I do need more weapons to add to my arsenal. The modern era must have advanced tech that I can use."
Kiara's eyes light up. "Well, you can't find new weapons lying around in here. Maybe the outside world is giving you a sign. A message. To go outside."
Evander tilts his head downward. "I'm not doing that."
Kiara groans. "You're impossible! At least come outside with me. I need to move or I'm going to fall asleep on my chemistry notes."
"Outside? Where?" Evander raises an eyebrow.
Kiara thinks fast. "Oh, the park. Fresh air. Open space. Combat practice."
Evander pretends to consider, sighing. "Fine, don't faceplant on the ground. As well, give me some weapons from your temple to give me; I can't keep using these primitive weapons."
"How do you add weapons to your arsenal as an Ascendant?" Kiara questions. "For a Warden, you just have to imprint a specific weapon for use, copying its design."
"I eat weapons and I can copy their imprint," Evander bluntly utters, flat as a knife. "Which lets me summon it every time."
"Okay?" Kiara says awkwardly. "So, same thing but different."
Evander doesn't share her enthusiasm.
In the meantime, across the outskirts, Merrick walks over to Azrael, examining a freshly born human husk, notes written down with excellent speed. The pale inhuman husk's eyes slowly move in two directions, one looking at the floor, and the other at the roof.
"That is quite something," Azrael mentions, tapping his pencil on the clipboard.
"No one said hybridization is easy," Merrick says, his hand tucked deeply in his pocket.
"You have to find a compatible dead corpse," Azrael explains. "You then have to merge and stabilize an Elusive embryo or hatchlings into that stable body."
He looks over the hybrid subject, writing down his thoughts. "The most tedious task is, of course, giving it a consciousness, its own spiritual energy reserves, and, of course, it needs to adapt and grow."
The animated body twists its head in a position that is impossible for regular humans.
Trajan walks forward, and the sounds of metal scrape through the air. "It seems this one is a failure. It can't even talk or think for itself."
"Now. Now," Merrick cuts in, "Remember, hybridization is still a new phenomenon for me. It needs trial and error."
Trajan scowls.
"Am I–I real?" the hybrid softly mutters, almost inaudible. Its elongated arms squirm and wiggle off the tiled floor.
"Hmm. Guess I was wrong," Trajan compliments, casting a glance at Merrick. "So what else is next?"
"I must consume your soul," the hybrid eerily cuts in. Its voice sounded almost human."I must become flesh and bone."
"Wait, what?" Trajan frowns, snapping his head back as the hybrid pounces on him, sinking straight into his forearm.
"Ahhh! Ahhh! Kill it! Kill it!" Trajan screams. Azrael drops his clipboard in a rush.
"Bad hybrid. Stop that," Azrael warns, spraying water at it as if it were a pesky cat.
"Ahh! It bit harder!" Trajan yells, legs thrashing as he tries to shake the creature off.
"That's the third one this week," Merrick rolls his eyes, extending his hand outward. A snap cracks in the air like a firecracker on the Fourth of July. The hybrid's body bubbles, inflating like a water balloon—before bursting into pure spiritual energy.
"Don't know why this is so hard. It was so much simpler when I created you two–the first time without difficulty."
"What should be our next stage?" Azrael asks, breathing heavily through the mask.
"Well, in the meantime, while we prepare to give you two more friends," Merrick smirks, rummaging through old file drawers and chests. "I want you to try something interesting that I've created."
Trajan clasps his shredded arm, peeking at what Merrick is offering to show.
"This will shape how we tip the scale of our war," Merrick says, gracefully turning to his two companions. A diamond dreidel shape shard was clasped tightly around his fingertips.
"What does it do?" Trajan asks, clasping his arm.
"It rewrites DNA and turns regular humans into Elusives," Merrick explains, throwing the weapon into the air and catching it. "A more boring design of mine."
His eyes glow a pitch white, connecting to a small flying Elusive reminiscent of a small songbird leering in Kiara and Evander walking by a park.
"I found our next targets," Merrick whispers, tossing the dreidel up and down. "Follow me, we're testing our new creation. Let's see if our friends enjoy our little present."
The Elusives lower their heads in Merrick's presence. Pointing his finger, the man chooses the cured spirit on the left. "Fall."
The Elusive bubbles and bursts, opening a spiral portal in its carcass. Merrick and his men enter through the portal, immediately entering the outskirts of the park. Azrael's and Trajan's shadows stretch long across the grass.
Merrick cast none.
"Try not to draw any attention."
Many kids point at Azrael—well, of course, they did. He's like a tall, skinny plague doctor in broad daylight in the modern century. The tiny children stare and whisper to their parents about the weird, dark-robed man at the park.
Merrick pulls out a propeller hat and plops it on Azrael's head. He twists the tiny propeller on top of the cap as it whimsically twists and turns.
Trajan smirks, chuckling at the thought. Azrael backhand smacks him in the face.
Merrick's gaze trails off to where Kiara and Evander are, connecting with many of the bird-like Elusives.
Kiara pats Evander on the back, trying to get him to loosen up.
"Alright, let's continue Kiara's mission: rehabilitate you so you don't start killing people," she declares, raising her hands up as if explosions happened behind her.
Evander stiffens.
Nearby, many civilians raise their eyebrows, clutching their bags and children as they overhear her words. A jogger slows down mid-stride, judging. Evander stares, all disgusted, side-eying her. One man adjusts his tin foil hat, holding his thermos like a weapon.
"Back in my day, we didn't openly declare murder plots out in the open," one old man mocks, moving his cane forward. "Amateurs."
Walking over to a different side of the park, Kiara begins stretching her legs.
"I don't need rehabilitation," Evander states, throwing a pine cone at the family of geese. "I've already gotten used to modern life. I've killed no one..yet."
Kiara raises her brow.
The pinecone head shots the mother goose, momentarily stunning her. Suddenly, the geese family started retaliating, flapping their wings like gunfire as they pecked wildly.
"Ahhh! Demon geese!" he screams, kicking the creatures away.
"You may have gotten used to human technology, but it's time for human connection," Kiara imitates her inner feng shui.
"That sounds horrible," Evander says, crossing his arms. "It likely wouldn't work."
"I bet you on my soul, everything I have planned out will go to plan," Kiara declares, pointing her finger at Evander.
A montage of events did not go exactly as planned.
Kiara tries to teach Evander how to fly a Frisbee. He threw it so hard that it sliced a kid's birthday cake in half, splashing icing all over the parents' faces. The five-year-old boy wails and thrashes over the picnic table.
She tries to teach him to climb a tree. Something about "experiencing the world from a different angle." However, the second Evander wrapped his arms around the already unstable tree branch, and it collapsed under his weight.
Grabbing a kite, Kiara hands it over to Evander. He throws it so hard and fast that it wraps around a lamp post, tripping up the local hotdog stand, gliding down the stairs like a skateboarder before crashing into a cyclist.
Finally.
"Hello, my friend, I want to talk to you...It's to help him with his communication," Kiara asks politely. She fidgets with her fingers, already sensing all the mean looks she is getting in the background.
"Sure, why not?" the stranger shrugs, extending his hand forward. "Nice to meet you."
Evander gently wraps his hand over the stranger's. He squeezes for just a second.
"Ahhh!" the stranger screams, his voice whistling like a tea kettle. He jumped out of the bench, dropping down to his knees—it was that bad.
Many nearby civilians back off as if Evander were personally torturing the man.
After a few more constant shenanigans, Kiara and Evander were basically level five war criminals at that point. It hasn't even reached the afternoon yet.
"I should have known the geese were the least of our problems," Kiara groans, collapsing onto the floor in complete defeat.
Total knockout.
"Hey, don't beat yourself down," Evander encourages, kneeling down. "However, you really shouldn't have me shaken that man."
"I don't know what I did wrong," Kiara says, pretending to look through invisible notes. "I read all the steps correctly. But when I applied for them, the park basically went under a civil war."
"Oh, that little fire?" Evander shrugs. "Barely a catastrophe. Big deal. Could be worse."
Kiara slowly turns her gaze towards Evander as if he spoke a forbidden phrase.
In the background, Azrael and Trajan stand on the outskirts of the park, making sure not to be seen by regular humans. Raising his bow, Azrael points the dreidel on his arrow at a random jogger.
Merrick sits on a regular park bench with an old grandma feeding the birds next to him. His Elusive bird creations start eating the bread crumbs, plopping their heads back and down for the food. He mirrors their motions, studying their tiny flourishes of life.
"You kind of look like my husband when he was younger," the old lady comments, squinting her eyes.
"Oh, do I know? He must have been a handsome man," Merrick chuckles, a fractured visage reflected off the woman. He leans closer as if to hear her better, yet his shadow doesn't move an inch from where it started.
"Fire," he whispers, his soft voice traveling all the way to Azrael, giving him the signal. The plague doctor's fingers let go of the arrow, sending the dreidel on its trajectory.
In a moment, silence drew over the park as the jogger felt a pinch on his neck. He stumbles onto the grassy field, rolling down to the edge of the pond. In a blinding burst, the man's skin bubbles and bursts out a giant humanoid Elusive, arms elongated, towering over the people.
Many screams rippled throughout the park. Many joggers and families rush out, not knowing what they are seeing. Kiara and Evander turn their heads, taking notice of the noise.
"Let me help you," Merrick offers, directing the old lady to the exit. As he helps the woman reach the exit, he turns his head, seeing Kiara and Evander reaching the Elusive. A sly grin appears on his face as the morning rays glare over his face.
"That's a big Elusive," Kiara says, summoning her katana. "Not how I wanted to start my morning."
Evander's gaze sharpens, taking notice of the weird irregularities of this particular cursed spirit. Before he can take another look, the Elusive rams its fist into Evander's stomach–Kiara clutches hers as well, mimicking where the cursed spirit punched.
Evander's body launches back, skidding off the pond like a skipping stone—a violent skipping stone. Friction burns slapped all over his back, as the water was basically punching him for his lunch money.
He crashed into a tree with full force, which didn't help his situation. He tilts his head forward, eyes sharp, arm draped over the stump. Kiara collapses onto the ground, clutching basically everything that hit the water.
She raises her hand, the black mist spiraling into a katana. Her eyes darted to see many bystanders recording the Elusive on their phones or reacting with fear.
Aren't Elusives supposed to be invisible for regulars? she questions, walking towards the spirit. How are people reacting to it?
She places her hands together, fingers intertwining. A dark spiral mist engulfs her clothes, transforming them into her Warden attire. Grabbing her katana, she holds the hilt sideways, steel glaring at the Elusive.
Evander crouches low next to Kiara, pretending to forget about what happened earlier. His eyes flicker to every twitch of the cursed spirit, finger itching his hilt.
The Elusive opens its mouth, steam escaping like thin mist.
It slowly opens its eight insectoid eyes, gazing on the two fighters like molten glass. Its limbs twitch unnaturally, an early promise of violence.
Merrick watches in the distance, awaiting to spectate the whole duel, savoring every moment.