Canaan Club - 41. Chapter 41

Rafe was brought out from the dark a second later, Coach Sigil’s horn glowing pink at the tip. Memories of moments before were in a fog in his mind, but as he began to adjust to his newly-healed state, it quickly cleared, a play-by-play of his battle with Dylan happening within seconds.

He won, and Joe was the first to enunciate his praises, stepping into Rafe’s line of sight on the ground.

“Dude! Talk about a damn meteorite!” he helped the blond into a sitting position. “I thought you were gonna blow the whole colosseum apart with that move!”

“Caved in a whole crater and everything. As evident…” Landon thumbed over to the now-ruined stage.

Or rather, the hollow cavern that replaced it. Clouds of dust hovered while thin trails of exhaust curled into the atmosphere. There was a feeling to the heat in the area that if his eyes weren’t open, he would swear he was being hugged by a warm body.

“Damn,” was the first thing that came out of his mouth. “It wasn’t just me, though. I had a little help.”

He spotted his “partner-in-crime” almost immediately, rejuvenated and surrounded by her teammates as well. Although, the tone around them was understandably solemn. She caught Rafe gazing at her, narrowed her own eyes, then looked away.

“Consider it a mark of your victory,” Sigil’s swift voice drew him away from Pratwith, a smirk on the unicorn shifter’s usually-inexpressive face. “Great job and effort out there, kid.”

Rafe nodded, but he was grinning when he heard a familiarly pleasant voice on his right.

“You’re amazing,” Andre said as he laid a water bottle on the superhuman’s lap.

He winked. “Was thinking of you.”

“Sure you were,” the omega’s cheeks pinkened, a sight Rafe, for some reason, wanted a photograph of right at that moment.

“You don’t have to say. I know you were thinking of me, too.”

Despite there being no more matches, the meet handlers got to work on fixing the patch of lost ground, individuals who could manipulate earth, grass, and hard, solid materials combining their talents to create a new and improved platform.

In the meantime, there was a brief hum before a robotic voice spoke throughout the entire colosseum from an unseen speaker.

“The final match of the first beginner’s meet has concluded! Accumulative wins and losses will now be recorded to decide today’s victor! Please stand by for five minutes!”

“So, I don’t think I even need to ask the question,” Landon spoke. “We’re all thinking it.”

“We got like, what, five wins?” Rafe looked around at his comrades.

Andre nodded. “And only two losses. Unless…”

Frodd.

Who was still MIA, by the way.

“Hey, coach,” Joe turned to Sigil. “Does a forfeit count as a loss.”

They nodded, frowning. “Unfortunately.”

Rafe cursed. “Shit. That’s three.”

“We should ask them how they did,” the Ares glanced nervously at the other Ironward teams, who sat in the grass pensively as well. “I don’t like sitting on my thumbs all nervous like this.”

“If we lost, take it on the chin. Don’t cry over it. Just get home and get better.”

Short and prompt. The Sigil way.

Rafe was beginning to like this person if he hadn’t already. “Right. We did alright, but I say we’ve met our matches today. By next Monday, we need to show some improvements.”

A unanimous agreement on that.

The teams shuffled nervously as they waited and dreaded, several even sauntering from group to group to get their takes in hopes of reassurance. Though, while the others freaked out around him, Rafe sat on the grass, his legs crisscrossed, silent, and his mind blank. No use overthinking it when they were going to get the results in the next second.

And soon, the speakers buzzed to life once more, instantly hushing the colosseum into eager, anxious stillness. “The results are in! With seventeen wins and eleven losses over, surprisingly, eleven wins and seventeen losses…”

Pause.

“Ironward Academy was able to secure a victory courtesy of Team One led by the most valuable player – Rafe Gold, clocking in five victories and only three losses! The beginner’s first official competition is Ironward! Congratulations!”

And just like that, all that fretfulness and worry dissolved into cheers and roars of triumph and success. Rafe was calm on the outside, slowly standing up from his position on the ground to stare at his celebrating teammates, but the rush of the win was getting his insides all jittery.

Arms wrapped around his torso excitedly, and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud when Andre nestled his head into his chest. It was like they were slaves to a bloodthirsty tyrant who had had an iron grip on the world for numerous grueling years and had now just been slain. He’ll take the hug, nevertheless.

He never glanced back at Pratwith, giving them privacy in processing their loss with dignity.

“Hell, yeah!” Joe shouted.

Daeran’s shoulders were slack in immense relief, a hand gripping the front of his uniform tightly. “Oh my god.”

“Holy crap!” Landon cackled as if the announcement was a most hilarious joke. “We had it in the bag all this time!”

Rafe supposed they did. Seventeen wins were more than enough to not be worried.

He later found himself on the fixed stage, standing before the hollering audience and his team, including Andre, behind him while he and Coach Hemming held a golden figurine with a longsword in a guarding stance – their first trophy. Turns out there were a lot more Ironward or neutral fans in the crowd than they originally thought. Luckily, the blond didn’t need to make a speech despite being the MVP. He and his teammates just stood smiling and posing as cameras flashed and the coaches did all the talking.

It had slipped his mind that this was on television.

If anyone from back home was watching, he hoped they shat their pants during his fights.

“Satisfactory, everyone,” Coach Hemming clapped after handing off the trophy to Sigil, “celebrate for today, but not a second later after the clock strikes twelve. The incoming weeks… well, they’ll only get harder from here. So many schools out there in the stars. This is only the bottom of the barrel. Whoops. Don’t tell Pratwith I said that.”

Said school was nowhere to be found except for a few lingering coaches and staff members, somber in their gait but stoic in their expressions.

That was until he spotted three figures huddled together near the area where Team Three and Six fought.

Hemming clapped his hands together again. “Alright, then. Go change and meet out by the bus outside of the arena and we’ll head on home.”

As the rest headed off to the arena exit, pumping their fists and hollering happily on their merry way, Rafe spun around and jogged in the opposite direction.

“Bro?” Joe called after him, but the blond waved him off.

“Hold on a sec. I’ll be right back.”

He trekked until he was in front of Dylan, Vultros, and Micha, the latter two flanking the former now tensed and glaring at the approaching enemy. Even though Rafe only had eyes for his fellow superhuman, he noticed the duo and stopped a healthy distance away in respect.

Dylan merely scoffed. “You’re not one of those who likes to rub salt in the wounds, are you?”

Rafe snorted back. “Nah. Wrong Gold sibling. Though, speaking of the one who does…”

“He’s your brother. I get it. You still care for him even though he murdered most of my family, so-”

“Oh, fuck no!” the blond dismissed the sentiment with an easy chuckle., “If you wanna light that motherfucker’s ass on fire, I won’t even spit on him. I’ll even help you take out the old man, too. Reduce him to a crisp or whatever.”

The blasé nature of the brush-off and the cold aversion in his voice when mentioning his blood relations was enough to shock the trio into stunned silence for a few moments.

“You… don’t actually care?” Dylan stammered, stupefied. “I thought you were just trying to be tough.”

Rafe just shrugged. “I got out of Dodge for a reason. I’m going back, but it’ll be for the last time. That place is going down no matter what. Will you be there?”

He put out a hand for her. Dylan stared at it.

A quarter of a minute went by before she clasped her own in his.

“When you’re ready, I’ll be.”

The blond simply nodded. “Good. I’ll stop by. Be stronger by then. I know I’ll be.”

“Got it.”

Rafe backed away but halted briefly when Vultros took a step forward, his face black but eyes shining with some newfound reverence. “Congratulations.”

Micha stayed silent, though, he nodded his felicitations.

Rafe smiled and saluted before running off. “Good game, you guys!”

In the locker room, they found a nourished Frodd lounging, already out of his uniform while sipping on a pouch of some metallic gray fluid from a straw.

“I’ve heard the great news already, mates!” he smiled brightly. “We now reign as champions over th’ Pratwith melters! Let’s search out their prized haunts an’ sully it in celebration.”

Joe snickered. “Even when you aren’t tweaking anymore, you still find a way to say the craziest shit, man.”

“And speaking of tweaking, I’m assuming you aren’t doing that anymore,” Rafe addressed him. “You were about to puke your guts out. Now…”

“I’m bang on, friend! An’ I hear ye took over for me in the last round. Good thing ye did, or it would o’ been over in bleedin’ seconds! Not much excitement there, ay?”

The blond rolled his eyes and continued to change. “Yeah, sure. Okay, man.”

“The hell are you drinking?” Landon sniffed. “It smells kind of good.”

“Oh, this?” he held the translucent pouch up. “Well, o’ course you’d love it, ye lil’ blood sponge. Coach Sig called it ‘caladrius blood.’ Healed me sickness right up when the ol’ horn couldn’t.”

“You serious? Actual blood from a caladrius? I thought those birds were just myths, but you seem right as rain now.”

“Unicorns can only heal injuries on the outside and inside, I think,” Andre replied, scratching his head as he gazed at the beverage. “Though, sicknesses and diseases are out of their element.”

Rafe shook his head and stared pointedly at the barbarian. “Whatever you just ate nearly made you hurl your insides out. It might have won you the match, but you were useless from then on. Your forfeiting counted as a loss.”

That quickly wiped the jovial smile off his face.

“Shite.”

The Hermes superhuman felt a little bad, so he wasn’t going to play the game of twenty questions just yet, but his teammate needed to hear this.

“It wasn’t any trouble, though. It got us six wins more than them, so it’s really nothing to worry about. Whatever’s on your club there gave you crazy strength, bro,” Joe hurried to his defense.

Daeran narrowed his eyes at the club laying by its seated wielder’s feet. “I sure could have used some.”

“And besides, I got a sweet match that pushed me to the brink,” Rafe’s lips quirked up slightly, “so thanks for that. Really.”

Frodd blinked in confusion. Going from being scolded to complimented made him unsure of where this conversation was supposed to go. “Uh… no problem?”

“I don’t mean to rain in on your parade or anything. I’m just trying to be cautious for you. Until we do some more test runs with it, just promise to use it only as a last last resort. On your last fight.”

Frodd pursed his lips. Rafe knew the redhead was upset, but he was taking the criticism well. So unlike the few bits and pieces he saw with Daup. There was definitely improvement after that win.

“Yeah, mate. No spoiled moods or anythin’ here. I promise to do better.”

“And that’s what we all have in mind.”

Before they left the country of Canada, they finished out the day with dinner at a restaurant named the “Espresso del Piazza.”

Andre made Rafe promise every win would be celebrated with pizza.

The blond could never refuse him.

-POI-

Tuesday fund themselves in teams of two on an active battlefield simulation in Foreign Tactics and Strategies – in actuality, some mountainous, rocky section near the War Field where hiding was easier. Fortunately, it was with plastic toy guns that shot gum instead of actual bullets because, otherwise, a quarter of the class would be dead.

And Rafe would have been classified as a serial killer. The walkie-talkie strapped to his waist by a belt buzzed to life, and he quickly picked it up and pressed the call button, tightening his grip on the light toy gun in his right hand.

“This is Blacksmith coming in,” Joe’s voice rang over the static. “Over.”

Rafe snorted. “I am not saying that every time I turn this thing off.”

“Oh, come on. You gotta get into character, bro. It makes it more fun.”

Before he could retort, his left ear twitched at the faint sound of footfalls, and he hurriedly up-ended himself as a tiny ball of green gum whizzed by where his feet should have been, missing a strand of his hair by a centimeter. In that same moment, like an action movie character, he shot back, hitting two of his opponents square in the chest, before dipping behind another plateau. He smirked as he heard them squawk in disbelief.

“So, about our fellow Tarzan,” Joe started casually despite now sounding as if he was on the run.

“Huh. I was about to say the same thing,” the blond sat and held his walkie-talkie close to his face.

“I know. How exactly did he do it, man? I know he ate that leaf on his club, but… what exactly… was it?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I tried bugging him about it on the way back, but he kept his secrets air-tight.”

More like he would bring it up and the club-wielder would give vague answers before diverting the subject, and masterfully so at that.

“I’m just surprised it was even allowed.”

Rafe shrugged. “Meh. His opponent could use missiles and shit, so it’s pretty much equal.”

A pair of footsteps. He peaked out from the side and shot a couple more down. Two more out.

“You remember when Andre talked about walking in on…” he groaned in disgust, “you-know-who and you-know-who?”

He could feel the Ares superhuman cringe through the communication device. “Don’t remind me. Hearing about it was bad enough.”

“The leech said something about needing the shit in the satchel to become more powerful. And whatever Frodd ate gave him a big boost in strength. Do you think…?”

“Ah, fuck. Not him, bro. I like the guy, you know. He couldn’t possibly be in leagues with the big freaks, could he?”

It’d truly be a shame. Rafe didn’t know the barbarian all that well, but he integrated into their group quite nicely despite some rough beginnings. Even if he was a Judas, Rafe could understand a little about the ‘why?’

“Maybe. Maybe not. He’s the small fry of his family. And if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that those on the bottom of the barrel can be desperate enough to get their grubs on even a shred of power.”

“But he’s cool and funny!” Joe whined, though, there was a tinge of disappointment. “I think he’s being tricked.”

“I hear you, man, but I’m not as optimistic. We know the asshole wolf’s with Deyja. What did Landon call it? Blood-bagging?”

Landon was more of a drifter between friend groups, so he wasn’t around as much. But when he was, he was an open book. Sometimes too much of one. And despite being a vampire himself, would make it clear that Deyja was an enemy, though, only because of their families. Rafe guessed the Permelias and Vondrans hadn’t been seeing eye-to-eye for quite a few centuries.

Joe’s shooter popped a few times prior to answering with a weary sigh. “It’s weird shit, dude. Aren’t werewolves and vampires supposed to be enemies?”

“It’s like flies on shit with those kinds of people. They always-”

He flinched when something pelted him on his flannel’s right sleeve. Looking down, he was shocked to find a piece of gum splat across the fabric.

“Dammit! Who-” he searched around for the culprit.

He was still behind the plateau, which covered him pretty well. However, it wasn’t a particularly tall one, and there were ones with even greater heights.

“You got hit?” Even Joe sounded amazed.

Rafe’s eyes moved over to a towering, slanted rock, and upon that rock was a certain, curly-haired omega werewolf, laying down on the top of it and plastic gun pointed like a sniper. Andre raised his head and winked, beaming at having caught his best friend at such a tight angle.

The blond couldn’t stay mad at that. Not when a burst of pride sprouted from his chest when he saw the omé so pleased with himself.

With a hearty chuckle, he spoke into his walkie-talkie one last time. “Yeah. There’s a curly-haired pup on the loose. Watch out. He’s got aim like a motherfucker.”

-POI-

Rafe’s eyes shot open. He turned to his left. Andre was knocked out, wrapped up like a cocoon, and snoring softly. Good.

He levitated over to his backpack and drew out his WardNav before hovering over to the door. He ruminated over it in his head multiple times, but this was something he could get done quicker by himself. It was time to find the second-year dorms and ask, no, demand Lindsay some answers.

He was out of the house like a mouse in seconds, keeping his feet inches above the ground until he was outside. That was when he took to the night sky, soaring above the villas and getting a bird’s view of the Adam Society as a whole. Lukewarm air billowed through his hair, t-shirt, and sweat shorts. Now, he knew that the first three years lived close to each other, so their second-year friend wasn’t too far off, but the latter years weren’t a part of the little cul-de-sac that the former year made up, so what building she was in was anybody’s guess.

Should he really be doing this at night?

She was probably dead asleep, so waking her up would be kind of a dick move-

“…go!”

Rafe froze. Voices in the distance. With it being so quiet, his hearing sharpened to pick up the rustling of leaves yards away.

A part of him was telling him to ignore it, but that section of his brain was small. And with the strange things that have been happening, he could bet that this might be another piece of the puzzle.

Or confuse shit up like always.

The blond crossed his fingers and followed the sounds, which led him to Lake Vesuvios, a sizable patch of sparkling, crystal water just on the outside of campus that used to be an entire small town before being submerged by a deadly flood. They’ve gone here several times for ALG to learn about the different species of fish that once inhabited the body of water.

What caught his attention was the assemblage of what he was sure were first-years, each wandering the greensward edges of the lake with shovels in hand.

Wide, anxious, lost, excited. Rafe, from his position in the sky and through the darkness, could see the array of emotions pass over his peers’ faces as they proceeded with their excavations.

“Hurry along, blood bags. Every inch of this place needs to be scoured before you leave tonight. I’m not going back to the master with nothing to show for my efforts again or it’ll be my ass.”

The blond looked further down to find an eerily familiar face he’d gladly go a lifetime without it being shoved into his.

Not long passed when Rafe stumbled upon a familiar predicament. The weirdo vampire, Caid, hanging around first-years. This time, however, he stood before the troop like a drill sergeant glaring over his soldiers – arms crossed, foot tapping, and orange eyes glowing menacingly like orbs of fire. It was first to see the bloodsucker not enjoying himself, seeming rather annoyed to be overseeing the crowd of younger students.

“But what if there isn’t anything here?” one digger stammered.

“Your peer was able to find one randomly the last time, so there has to be more somewhere around here. Keep digging! Keep searching!” Caid huffed indignantly. “We’re all very lucky that your classmate had no idea what he found at the time. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have met the quota to complete the Corpse Vice.”

The vampire took three steps to his right, standing creepily behind a redheaded boy Rafe knew all too well.

Well, that answered that question. Kind of.

“So, we watched you yesterday,” Caid muttered, his lips quirked.

Frodd recoiled from the bloodsucker, furthering the latter’s amusement, before stuttering out. “You did? I mean… yeah, of course.”

Pause. The sound of digging.

Caid frowned impatiently, motioning with his hand to hurry. “And? Don’t keep me in suspense, Neanderthal. How was it?”

“It was… amazin’,” Frodd exhaled, ignoring the name to stare at his shovel with a small but thrilled smile. “The power… it… I never felt power like that before. It felt like I could do anything!”

“Well, of course,” the leech rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “That’s why we offered you some. What happened after it wore off?”

The barbarian let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as his face flushed. “Oh, well. I was yackin’ all through the final match. Had to forfeit near the end. I honestly thought I spewed a lung.”

“So, it made you violently ill for a bit before the unicorn healed you. Man, I do not miss being mortal,” Caid whistled, shaking his head. “Okay. That’s good. You keep your trap shut about this. The master isn’t expecting any payment this time around since you were just a guinea pig for the Corpse Vice. They honestly thought you would die during the test run, but I guess what you got is compensation enough.”

“I… I really want more.”

“If I were the master, I’d let you have more if you made up for the missing greycell. You know in my world, loyalty and devotion get you a long way.”

At that, Frodd gaped, staggered but hopeful. “So, it’s a deal?”

An oily, cruel grin graced Caid’s pale face. “If I was the master, Neanderthal, but alas, I am not. But your allegiance needs to be loud and apparent. If I were you, I’d make my grand gesture quite magnificent because we lost a lot this past month and we’re running out of precious time. You wanna be the most powerful barbarian in history? Bigger than your ugly oaf for a chief, yeah? Then find that fucking satchel for us. But until then, dig.”

And like a dog to his master, Frodd dug.

Rafe knew he couldn’t stick around any longer, especially when the leech’s nose twitched slightly. He hovered back slowly a few spaces, not wanting to alert anybody. When he couldn’t see the group of digging freshmen, he bolted all the way back to the quad, his mind racing a mile a minute.

Andre and Daeran found a greycell. The rare, alien plant from “a galaxy away.” It could be cooked into edibles, but apparently, from what he just heard, they were the ingredients for something greater.

Corpse Vice.

That white leaf of Frodd’s club. That was what Deyja and her minions were after?

“You little shits just can’t keep your noses out of fucking business, can’t you?”

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Rafe suppressed a flinch and sighed dramatically, remaining in his seated position on the grass and eyes closed. Hopefully, it was just his need to sleep.

“Well, well. Look at what we found.”

“Aw. The night terrors too much for ya, kid?”

Man, he’s only heard those voices a couple of times. How was his brain able to interpret them so well?

“Too bad for you ‘cause they’re just getting started!”

Nope. That was a new one. He wasn’t sleep-addled just yet.

Rafe stood up and glowered at the sight that greeted him. As always, the motley crew was back, but with two new additions. Zoel, Kodan, and Radulf stood with arms crossed, leering with sinister intent while the new pair glared, though, they must have been low on the totem pole because their eyes shifted uncertainly between the three in front of them.

“So, you brought more in, huh?” Rafe snarked even as his heartbeat quickened. “I’m flattered. I guess I’m too much for you when it’s just three.”

Zoel scoffed. “Yeah, keep telling yourself those jokes, you little bastard, because what’s about to happen won’t be as funny.”

“So, what’s the occasion, boys? You stalking me now? Brought your buddies along to carry your half-dead ass after you get hammered? He whines in sleep if you didn’t know.”

The nonchalance he wasn’t feeling was enough to make the gamma instantly lose his composure.

“Shut the fuck up!” he spat, spittle flying out. “I may haven’t been around much, but that’s because I was biding my time, waiting for the moment to strike. I admit, I was watching you pansies prance around. Nothing fucking fun about that. But now that you’re all alone, I can at least take care of one of you. Lucky me that I get to gut the most annoying one of the bunch.”

The blond knew he should’ve scampered off during that whole monologue.

He never considered himself a smart cookie, but he was no coward. He’d rather be called stupid. Which was all the courage he needed to spill the next words out of his mouth.

“If anyone’s a pansy, it’s you. Needing your girlfriends to back you up. I really am too much for you.”

Silence.

Rafe momentarily enjoyed the slackened jaws of his enemies, drinking up Zoel’s mottled red face.

“Oh, I am going to enjoy ripping that tongue out of your mouth,” he hissed balefully. “Boys. Leave him in shreds.”

It all happened so fast.

Rafe was preparing for a headfirst dive, which left him completely open for four waves of flames to cross the short distance and heat his skin. He was sure they were going to rip him to pieces rather than roast him alive.

Expect the unexpected, I guess.

He would have laughed at his sardonic quip if coalescing flames weren’t sizzling him. All he could do was crouch and guard his face, his arms and legs already feeling like they were melting. Still, Rafe clenched his teeth. If anything, he would not make a sound as he baked even if it might alert someone.

The thought of Zoel enjoying his screams closed his throat real tight.

The lupin flamethrowers kept at it.

And it only got hotter.

And hotter.

And hotter.

And-

…

Everything was black before it slowly split open to a bleary world. One where it, unfortunately, contained a maliciously grinning Zoel looming over him, smoke wafting all around him.

“Any last words, monkey?” the bastard gamma’s sneer was distant.

Rafe was numb, thankfully, but he still had a bit of feeling left in his face for a parting gift. He gathered what little he had and let loose…

…in the form of a wad of spit. Directly at the wolf’s forehead.

The speechless expression on his face was a nice sight to go out with, but before it could shift into that familiar rage…

CLOM! CLOM! CLOM!

“The fuck was that?” Kodan, he thought, exclaimed.

Radulf sniffed. “I… I smell rust. Is that-”

Out of nowhere, a thin, purple ray of light shoots out across Rafe’s hazy vision. Then, the screaming began. More specifically Kodan’s bellows of agony.

“My arm! M-My fucking arm!”

“Kodan!” his twin cried.

Zoel was equally freaked, head swiveling from left to right. “What the fuck!?”

He must have gotten his arm cut off. Heh. Been there, done that.

He snickered to himself, reminded of the first time he used his lasers to de-arm another obnoxious gamma. Looks like history was repeating itself.

More violet beams crossed above him, broad and slim flashing and intersecting like strobe lights, all to the tune of the shrieking mutts. Rafe caught one strike Zoel’s shoulder, the beam going completely through and making him yelp in pain.

The blond was almost sure he was smirking before his lights went out once more. The last thing he heard was a voice squealing to retreat.

Yeah, you better run.

“W-What…? Who…?”

The next moment of consciousness was short, but he was able to make out a pretty recognizable shape before him.

Black wings hairstyle, tawny skin, violet eyes, permanent blush, and an ever-present scowl on his face.

Bones shook his head, faintly annoyed and solemn. “You idiots just can’t help but get into trouble, I suppose.”

The world was dark once more.