Media: "Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost" meme from lipstickandlacquer.ca
S U R V I V I N G.
I pulled my cycle behind a pile of old tires. Eyeing them like tossed out antiques. Tires had not been used on vehicles for two dozen years, those that were still around were art, furniture or trash. And by the latter, I was surrounded.
Where there were not piles of tires randomly laying about, there was the usual trash, rusted iron junk, old plywood and other such building materials that had long since been outdated.
I released the throttle to cease forward motion and remained hovering. The fans that made up the two 'wheels' separated and spread out into four fans that turned toward the sky like disks. I pulled a lever slowly toward me and the fans slowed, lowering toward the ground.
At the last second, they conked out and the cycle landed roughly. I cursed it under my breath.
"Old tin can...every time..."
Collapsing my helmet into a small headband, I tossed it into my traveling compartment and left the cycle among the tires.
I ducked into a makeshift shed of plywood and four rickety iron pillars, with a door made of a ragged old comforter.
The nights were not too cold this time of year, but I flicked on a neon lamp for added heat as well as light.
I sat down on the earth floor and looked around me to survey my living situation. A little fire-pit, a sleeping blanket, a bag of emergency supplies, my blade sharpener lying beside the pit and another staff leaning against the wall in the corner.
I walked over to the extra staff to examine it, bringing it closer to the light. Spending my savings on this slightly illegal weapon had yet to prove to be a wise choice or a foolish one. This staff channeled electricity when activated, but it required a license to own and use publicly.
Unless you have connections like mine.
I was suddenly alerted to footsteps approaching the front of my hut. Folding the electristaff quickly and flicked the neon lamp off, I grabbed my trusty old baseball bat.
I holstered my staff on my back and rotated my shoulder to chase away any stiffness. If it was a fight, I'd deliver.
Approaching the makeshift door of my tent silently, I listened for the intruder's next move.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness and my nerves waited. The footsteps stopped and I twitched my ears, straining to hear any noises.
A tiny gadget clicked and fire illuminated through the blanket door. There was no way I was going to let them light my hut ablaze.
I stepped out quickly, hiding the bat behind my back.
One man stood before me, lighting a pipe. He looked familiar.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded harshly to know.
The man extinguished his light, looking at me with a smile, "Ahh, Brietta the Wolfslayer. Good to see you again!"
I screwed my eyes at him, my memory flashing back and recognizing him.
"Martin's father?" I ask, "What could you possibly want?"
"My name is Raphael," he corrected me gently, "But I am more often than not known as Martin's father..."
I ignored his sigh of disappointment, "Why are you here at this hour?"
He just smiled at me apologetically as he fingered his pipe.
"For the reason, I must apologize, but I wanted to know something important." he said, mysteriously curious.
The hairs on my neck raised alarmingly as Raphael's eyes gleamed and he continued.
"Are you really a wolfslayer?"
The sound of purring motors and mechanical growling made me jump away from my hut with my bat raised over my head.
I crouched and surveyed the two wolf robots standing side-by-side on the roof of the hut, looking down at me.
They were remote control toys, albeit deadly ones. I needed to ground them and disable them or find the people controlling them.
Another snarl makes the adrenaline pump faster through my blood and I know I cannot out run them long enough to try that second option.
Gripping my bat tightly, I sprinted toward the hut and swung my bat at the weakest pillar of the hut.
It fell inward, the roof tipping off of the other three supports. The wolves fell to the ground and awkwardly rolled toward me.
I swung my bat and hit the head of the first one hard. It stopped rolling, a huge dent having demolished the left eye, which like I thought, was a camera.
Someone was within 100 feet with controllers.
The wolf snarled and I hit the other 'eye' with my bat. The wolf pounded into the ground, but my bat was practically in splinters.
I dropped the remains of my bat and pulled one of my daggers from my hip. With a yell, I drove my dagger into the engine of the robot, watching it sputter and die beneath me.
The second wolf was charging towards me now. I had no time to stop it or run, so I grabbed the remainder of my bat and threw it. The bot's jump broke and it landed on me clumsily. I quickly rolled out from underneath it as it began to recalibrate it's surroundings.
Jumping to my feet I went with my first instinct and kicked the bot's head with the heel of my boot.
Ouch. Instincts hurt.
Slowing down the process of recalibration, I pulled out my second dagger and drove it through the head of the bot. The impaled control center fizzled and sparked as I stepped back and watched it die a machine's death.
"Now for challenge two." Raphael announced calmly, still standing where I had left him.
Two more wolves leaped over a pile of tires behind my hut. Their eyes freshly glowing red and their motors purring with a thirst for my blood.
Staring down my incoming threats, I smirked happily, "You gotta be kidding me."
They just gave away their hiding spot.
I ran straight for the wolves and at the last second flipped over them and kept running.
I ran up the pile of tires as the wolves turned themselves around and followed, howling like death traps.
At the top of the pile I leapt and pulled my feet up to my hands.
Sliding two throwing knives out of my boots effortlessly, I took half a second to aim for the controller in Martin's hand.
Yes, as I could have probably told you. There stood Martin and his brother, each holding a controller. They were so dumb they were not even hiding. Just standing out in the open.
Landing on one knee, I threw my knife through Martin's controller and aimed for the second controller in his brother's hand.
Not even pausing, I sent the knife flying and it imbedded solidly into the gadget.
Then I turned to see the wolves clearing the top of the tires. One blindly ran in a different direction, but the other was soaring straight for me.
Without thinking, I grabbed the staff on my back and whipped it out toward the wolf.
Electricity cracked like exploding lighting as the staff flipped out into full length and smacked the wolf under his belly. The wolf cracked and died upon impact and it was sent flying in the opposite direction.
My eyes widened as I realized what I had just displayed for two witnesses. I quickly folded my staff back up and placed it on my back, looking back at the two young men.
Martin's eyes were wide and his jaw was dropped, but underneath the shock he was pissed. His brother was much less affected and remained emotionless.
Their father suddenly jogged around the pile of tires and drew up short just as the two halves of the wolf fell at his feet.
He looked down at them and then up at me, "Come with me and I'll pretend that didn't happen."
"Why?" I spat, "Do you really expect me to trust you?"
"Because I am Rafael Daunté, host of the Arkij contest this year." he said slowly.
Arkij contest? As in the contest to determine the next Arkij and Arkija? The male and female monarchs?
"What is that supposed to mean to me?" I asked harshly, flicking a loose strand of hair out of my face.
"A lot." Rafael said mystically, "Because I want to enter you as my contestant."