Myrical’s Little Secret

Duran groaned as water splashed onto his face. He coughed out blood. His chest heaved with ragged movement.

“Oh, Duran, what happened?” Gawain demanded. “How…who did this?”

“Krane,” Duran choked.

“Don’t stand up.” Duran looked around and saw a masked person.

“I go by the name Myrical,” the person said. “You’re in quite bad condition. I can get you back on your feet in a day. Normally, it’d take a month.”

“Where is everyone?” Duran whispered. “Is it just…” Duran looked around and counted. “…the ten of us?”

Gawain nodded. “Terrible loss. We were massacred. The leader’s dead too. What were you saying about Krane?”

“He did this to me. He’s one of them. One of the (cough) Red Masks.” Duran looked at Myrical. “Are you one of them?”

“Nope. I don’t have a red mask, do I?” Myrical answered. “I’ve come to help. The world descended into darkness years ago. It was getting near the light side, but the dark forces appeared again. I’m here to ensure the delay of the darkness.”

Duran nodded and croaked, “Krane, I can’t believe it.”

“I thought he was on our side,” Gawain grumbled.

“Apparently not. He submitted two years ago into Thor’s service,” Myrical replied.

“Something else contributed to our loss,” Gawain added. “There was this demon girl that shot black lightning at everyone.”

Myrical gasped. “Alita!”

“Who?” Gawain asked..

“Daughter of Thor and Exa,” Myrical answered.

“Who’s Exa?” Gawain inquired.

“She’s the deity of evil. She’s not even from this realm. If she were to participate in this, we’d all be lost by now.”

“She’s that bad?” Duran gasped.

“Very very powerful. The Chosen One wouldn’t be able to defeat her, and he should be brought into this war rather soon to lead us out of the darkness and into the light.”

“The Red Mask Mage is with the Red Masks now above us,” Gawain said.

“I’ll take care of him.”

“But..but..he’s… you can’t. He’s too powerful.”

“We’ll just see about that.”

“Oh, no!”

Gawain helped Duran up with the support of two other men. They went up to watch the scene aboveground. Myrical jumped and doubled backward, kicking the Red Mask Mage twice. He leaped back and waited.

“You asked for it!” the mage sent bolts at Myrical, but Myrical countered them seemingly easily and reflected them.

“Umm, Gawain, just where did this person come from?” Duran asked with wide eyes.

“Uh, I don’t know. He just came in at the end of that battle.”

“Is he trustworthy? He never takes off his mask?”

“Probably to hide his identity then. He could be working with the enemy.”

“No. Look.”

Myrical had beaten the Red Mask Mage badly. Now, he made a motion with his hand and grinned. The Mage’s mask flew off to his surprised. The visage shattered in the air with a loud crack. “Go and tell your master that his days are numbered,” Myrical growled. “He’ll need the warning.”

The Red Mask Mage disappeared with the words drifting in the air… “I’ll be back. You’ll be killed.”

“Tough luck,” Myrical said. He turned and saw Duran, Gawain, and the two men. A slight expression of surprise appeared on his face and disappeared just as quickly. “Duran, it’s not good for you to move around with wounds like the ones you have.” He urged everyone to go back down into the secret hideaway. Times and times, Myrical led the rebels to victory, and Gawain would describe to Duran, as he rested to regain his strength, about the miraculous skirmishes.

When he was well enough, Duran started to participate in the skirmishes. He saw immediately that Myrical was quite the tactician. Myrical had used guerilla warfare as one of his tactics. Another one implemented illusions and surroundings. The target would be surrounded by seemingly overwhelming numbers of the people. Other plans were just simply scare tactics. To Thor’s men, Myrical was known as the Masked Master.

One afternoon, when everything was quiet, Duran followed Myrical down to the beach.  Myrical sat down, sighed, and took off his mask. Duran squinted, but the sun blinded his vision. He scuffled forward and tripped. His cry alerted Myrical, who stared at him. He had landed next to…her.

Duran drew back quickly. “You’re…you’re a girl!”

Myrical nodded. “So? I never mentioned whether I was a boy or a girl, and I’m certainly not a cross.”

Duran made a face. “I sure hope not. Who are you?”

Myrical sighed. “Come sit next to me. I know you’ve had a rough history with that amulet of yours. Your mother’s.”

Duran carefully placed himself in a comfortable position.

“Born in a world of darkness and orphaned at a young age, I lived alone in a forest where I discovered ancient runes,. That was how I learned about the Chosen One and the Sacred Sword. Duran, I am from the haunted Aura Forest. By legend, it is forbidden for me to leave as the Lady of the Meadows, which I was called.”

“What’s your real name?” Duran asked.

Myrical hesitated. “…Liana of the heavens. My soul is a core of untouchable fire.”

Duran nodded. “Umhmm.”

“You’re the strong silent type, aren’t you?”

Duran nodded.

“Well, our Chosen One should be coming around tomorrow.”