Flames of the Past #5: Lost Souls (Ninjago Fanfiction)

Prologue

A cool mist filled the air. The grass was wet with dew and the sky was still dark despite the rising sun. The man quivered with anxiety as he traveled through the thick fog. He gripped the satchel over his shoulder, feeling his heart pound inside his chest. He'd anticipated this moment his entire life, yet he still didn't feel ready.

As soon as he'd caught word that the Overlord had been defeated, he'd grabbed his things and set off toward the village of Mistfort. That was where all the Baddies would be heading.

He remembered the last time he'd set foot in Mistfort, remembered watching the village spring to life alongside his friend. He knew his friend would still be around the place, and he planned to see him again.

The man's footsteps slowed. He looked up at the large stone walls protecting the sacred village. A mixture of fear and excitement rose inside of him. This was it.

Taking a deep breath and shaking his wet brown hair from his face, the man entered the village.

Mistfort was as he remembered. Green grass sprouted around the buildings and between the stone roads. Flowers were dotted around, and huge trees decorated the scenery. He spotted sparks of green moving throughout the stone wall and he winced. It wouldn't be good if their enemies found this place.

Glancing around again, the man noticed the one thing different about the village was the amount of people inhabiting it. Hundreds of people moved up and down the streets or in and out of the buildings. Some seemed injured, some had blood stains on their clothes. Most all of them looked tough and muscular, even the children. Yet they all seemed to be in good spirits, and the man suddenly realized they were the Baddies that had survived the battle. Now that the Overlord was dead, they could all deactivate their markings in peace.

The man looked around the group, but he couldn't find who he was looking for. Instead, he moved through the crowd, trying to remain unnoticed by the Baddies. He had to admit they intimidated him.

When he reached the building he wished to enter, he paused. Two Baddies came skipping out, talking excitedly to each other as they admired their now-deactivated markings. After they left, the man slipped into the door.

The room was quiet, with only a faint patter of footsteps echoing toward him. He followed the sound until he found his old friend. As expected, his friend held his staff out beside him. The twisted top of the stick held something green and crackling, brightening the area around him.

At the sound of the first man's footsteps, the second turned to face him. His eyes lit with surprise. "Clark?" he breathed.

The first man smiled nervously, grasping his satchel again. "It's me," he answered.

The other man sped over to him. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, glancing around to make sure they were alone. "Have they returned?"

"No, it's not that," Clark hurriedly assured him.

Still, his friend brought his staff closer to his side. "Then what brings you back after all these years?" he asked.

Clark twisted his fingers around his satchel's strap. "I'm looking for people," he admitted. "I heard about the Overlord's passing."

The man sighed and shook his head. "May that boy rest in peace," he murmured. He studied his friend. "I'm assuming the people you're looking for are Baddies?"

Clark nodded.

"We've had a whole wave of them come in after the battle. But a good amount of them already left."

Clark's eyes widened. "Left?" he gasped. "Left where?"

"I don't know. Though I did hear some talk of Lost Rock."

"That wretched town?"

The man's eyes glittered. "Not all leopards can change their spots," he pointed out.

Clark lowered his head, panic swarming inside of him. They wouldn't have gone to Lost Rock... No, not them. But what if they had still already left? How would he ever find them?

"Some are still here," his friend told him. "A lot of them are hanging around the inn, if you want to search there."

Clark raised his head again. He wouldn't give up just yet. Not when he was finally close to finding them. "Thank you, friend. I think I will."

The man blinked at him. "Good luck," he said.

Clark blinked back. "Thank you."

He turned around to leave as the other added, "I believe we will see each other again soon."

That made Clark turn back around. Concern piled inside of him. "What do you mean?" he inquired.

The man gazed up at his glowing staff. "It grows stressed," he murmured. "Its power feels different. Danger is coming."

Clark followed his gaze. "Then we will fight a second time," he replied. "And we will win again." He looked back at his friend, nodding to him. "Good luck to you, too, old friend."

The man nodded back, and Clark left the building.

He headed toward the inn at the end of the street, breathing heavily. Would they be angry with him, he wondered?

It didn't matter. Either way, he was finding his family.

He entered the inn. His friend had been right. The dining section of the inn was packed with both customers and servers sweeping back and forth. Loud chatter and laughter echoed throughout the room. Clark made his way inside, scanning the room and everyone in it. He hadn't seen his family in forever, but he would still recognize them, wouldn't he?

Someone shouting a familiar name made Clark freeze. His breathing picked up. He knew that name!

He whipped around and found who had spoken the name. She was a young woman walking over to a table. She placed two drinks on its surface before sitting on an empty chair. Sitting across from her was a man that seemed to be only a few years older than her.

Clark's heart skipped a beat.

That was them.

He knew that was them.

Barely able to breathe, he drew closer and listened in on their conversation.

"So, what are we going to do now?" the woman asked.

The man looked at her as he took a sip of his drink. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we're free," she answered. "But now what? We've been in Baddie Bend our whole lives! At least Lloyd had something to go back to. We've never known anything but the Bend. What do normal people do with their lives?"

The man hesitated, placing his drink back on the table. "I don't... know," he confessed in a mumble.

It's now or never, Clark told himself. Summoning up his courage, he stepped up to the table. "Excuse me," he broke in.

Both their eyes snapped up to him. Immediately, their faces hardened and the young man straightened up. "Who are you?" he barked.

Clark looked from one Baddie to the other, smiling to himself. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to barge in like this," he breathed, emotions bubbling inside of him. "But I... I've been waiting for this moment forever."

The man and woman exchanged a look. Furrowing his eyebrows, the young man rose to his feet and moved in front of the table, slightly blocking the woman. Clark could tell it was a protective gesture.

Clark moved a step backward as he realized the younger man was at least two or three inches taller than him. He looked up at him, feeling tears swell in his eyes. The man was much, much older than he'd last seen him, but his face was still exactly the same. "You got so big," he rasped out. He glanced at the woman. "You both did."

The man glared at him. "Do we know you?" he demanded.

Clark turned back to him. "Yes," he blurted. "Well, no. No, not really. Not since you were little."

The man and woman still seemed wary and he drew in a shaky breath.

"My name is Clark," he burst out, "and I believe I am your father."