Month 3
Living with a cage holding your head together was annoying. But sipping gruel through a straw...while an Enforcer was holding it for you, is hilarious if you think about it. Most people can't see the humor in everyday life and everyday near death. Scar really did a number on me, as to get my jaw drilled together and my face stitched back on. Only a few other things were missing, but I'll get them back. Judging by the number of people that move through here, I can make things happen and keep them around longer.
"Hey kid..." a voice makes me snap my head around...nothing but the figure in the dark. I never bothered to ask for his name. He points at my head. "Head okay?"
My hands run over the smooth but slightly rusted cage casing of my helmet. "No one's getting in anytime soon."
The black figure leaned forward, but not too much so as to reveal himself. "Good, you need rest."
A snicker echoed through my caged head. "No, I need revenge." Lying down, I start my core exercises. "What's your name anyways?"
I received no answer. When I finished my set, I turned around to see no one.
"Huh...that's not healthy." Being in here isn't healthy. To that extent, being in here isn't healthy.
As I lay down on the cold floor, I thought over how thorough that ass whooping was. Unless Scar decides to slow down his progression, I can't see any way to overcome him.
A powerful push slams me against the cell bars. Turning around, I see him. Scar is standing over me, with him scowling. "I said I didn't want this." He approaches me and grabs my iron mask.
I groan as he lifts me to my feet, the force threatening to pull my face apart. I can feel it, the sharp pain shooting through my head, my skull threatening to release the fluids around my brain. In a desperate attempt to separate myself from him, I strike at his ribs. His body is there; I felt the warmth of his body under my fists, but it feels empty. It's as if Scar doesn't have a soul, but that's impossible. He threw me to the side, I held onto him, and twisted my body, throwing him into the wall. We landed on the cold concrete floor and scrambled to our feet.
With muscles sore from calisthenics and a throbbing head, he spat at the floor. "Round two?"
Scar bared his fangs. "Any time."
We clashed. His weight and force are authentic, as well as his fury. The battle lust feels real. The warm, stinky body odor and rough prison fabric caused burning friction against my skin. We began exchanging blow after blow. Each punch we land ignites pain directing through my nerves, sparing my flesh. By the 5th attack, it occurred to me that whatever this is, it is fake. This shade is an illusion, or a figment of my imagination. Whatever the case, it beats boredom. Scar snickered and kept punching. I slipped and practiced my moves, the soreness of my calisthenics subsiding. None of this makes sense anymore—the people, the food, the special service, none of it. All that matters now is respect. Scar was the better man that day. I need my rematch, and the warden is going to make me work for it. Scar landed a two-piece combo, an uppercut that snapped my head back, and a straight cross that numbed my chin. Crashing against the wall, I snapped back around. With my back planted flat against the wall, I peeked around the cell, through my guard. Nowhere in sight. By some miracle, he's gone, leaving me alone to wonder where my head is going. Fire still pumps strong in my veins, and I fall into a series of push-ups.
"You're tired," that sweet voice said. Looking over at her, pressed against the corner, there she is, my sweet Pow Pow. It was dark, as it always is. Peeking over her knees, she looks as vulnerable as that moment in the basement, when I was broken. She hugs her knees, as if to protect herself from whatever I've become.
Ignoring her, or it, I keep at my push-ups and sit-ups. Whatever I need to do to ignore these invasions of my mind.
"Please, don't ignore me." She calls me out in that voice that knows me too well. "I can't see you like this."
Pushing myself off the floor, I snap at her. "Then don't. Just go away."
Powder looks at me with those eyes that don't belong to my Powder.
"Dinner time." I didn't hear the Enforcer approach. My feet carried me to the bars, and I pulled the straw into my face. This Enforcer isn't an ass; he just does his job and goes home. There was no fuss or sadistic games. He lets me sip my dinner through the straw in peace. Apparently, he wasn't supposed to allow me to hold the damn glass myself. That's fine; I just hope that he doesn't go anywhere before I heal. "You've been talking to yourself recently. Scar really messed you up that bad, huh?"
Pulling away from the straw, I look up at him. "Did the face cage give it away?"
Seeing as the cup is empty, he pulled it away. "Just between you and me..." The guard peeked over his shoulder. "You're scheduled for another fight." He then flicked my face cage through the bars. "As soon as this thing comes off."
My mind being full of careful calculations gave the guard confidence in my acceptance, as if I had a choice in the first place. "Let me guess...next month?"
The guard nods. "And I got just the thing to speed up the healing..." His left hand revealed a syringe containing worrying chemical reactions within. "I know it looks scary, but trust me, it will fix you right up."
Taking a step back, I ran through all the possible symptoms I could think of, judging by the sight of the characteristics of the chemicals. I won't fall on my back screaming in agony?"
The cell creaked open as the guard let himself in. "Not like you wouldn't fit right in." He took the covering of the needle off and pushed the oxygen out; a bit of the chemicals squirted through the air. "Now, give me your arm." He reached a hand out.
Seeing how he asked, instead of just slamming the needle into my arm, made me relax somewhat. With no other choice, I offered my arm. Securing it in his hand, he found a vein and pushed the needle in. I winced as the chemicals flowed into my vein. As the fluids traveled freely in my blood, I could already feel the effects. Once he pulled the needle out, I stumbled backwards and pressed my back against the wall.
"You're a great fighter..." He nods his head in bubbling excitement and approval. His voice driveled on as if I cared to understand, through the lightheaded sensation that's taking over me. His gaze followed me as I slid down the wall and lay down on my side. The room is boiling, appearing to be melting into oblivion. His muffled words echoed off the walls. If anything, we were right; it is undoubtedly working. The guard keeps his eyes on me, as if unsure of his grand plan now. Wasting not a second, in fear of drawing suspicion, he turned and left my cell, locking it shut. Those locks...those gears...the sound of the mechanisms within the lock rattled around in my brain as I dozed off to sleep.
Observing the fraternal twin cities from above is a beautiful tactical advantage. If only I could execute my will knowledge now...instead of waiting 15 months to do anything with it. With no other thing to look at in the dark of Zaun...wait...where's the smog? As I float around the place, it's almost as clear as Piltover. Who could have done this? As I rack my memory of who would be smart enough to pull this off, a gentle breeze flows over me...as if I'm still in my physical body. The breeze sends shivers down my back as I try to focus on thinking of a solution to the question.
"Who could do it? It couldn't have all been Claggor." Scratching the side of my temple, saying that out loud stings my chest a little. "I mean...not by himself, of course."
The wind blew again, but this time, warmer. "You're right, he did have help."
The voice came from everywhere all at once. Each word is spoken with maternal gentleness that fills me with jealousy. Just as I was about to dismiss the feeling as immature, my instincts flared, and I pivoted to my right. What I thought I would never bear witness to is a beautiful woman in white armor with gold rims on the outline. A white veil softly flaps in the air as wings. Her white hair flows with gentle yet purposeful freedom, like a lit flame, but ethereal.
"Owen, I've been watching you for some time." Her voice was all around me, but her mouth moved, matching the sound of wind given voice.
"Janna?" My eyes wandered to the staff in her left hand. A long blue, possibly dense with arcane crystals. Nearing the tip, the head of the staff is thicker and twisting into a sharp point at the end. Orange gems decorate the sides of the end. Maybe energy stabilizers? Can't possibly be for decoration. "THE Janna?"
She giggled. "The one and only." Following my gaze, she held her staff in front of her. "You can hold it if you want."
I reeled back in shock. In my physical body, I wouldn't have been able to sense it. That staff radiates power that's old and feels even older than the spirit. It must not always have been a staff.
"As much as I would like to..." Looking at the staff, I think of all the things I could do with it. "It's better off in your hands."
Janna chuckled softly. "So humble, yet so arrogant." Her words pierced me like a brutal winter breeze.
"I'm not a kid anymore; every decision I make affects everyone around me." I pulled my legs into my chest and hugged them.
Janna made the seemingly solid staff dematerialize into a gust of refreshing wind. "This is new for you." She approaches me with trusting eyes and extends her arms warmly, "May I?" After I wordlessly nod to give her the okay, she embraces my astral form. Janna's fingers glide over my scalp, parting my hair. "You used to visit my church all the time..."
Guilt began to weigh me down. There was a time when her gentle winds soothed me when I was younger. I knew it was her all along. Her gentle winds always guided through the harshness of Zaun. Even now in this form, it's the same familiar sensation. An ever-present hand guiding me towards safety when I'm lost, a warm breeze to be my blanket at night, and a cool breeze to calm me after an exhausting fight. There are too many things to be thankful for because of her.
A kind smile spread her lips. "Remember when you would sleep in my church?"
Looking up at her, I can feel the familiar companionship I abandoned. "... just wanted to survive on my own."
Her chuckling sent ripples through my head. "You have done well; you even found yourself a family."
"Yeah..." She rubs my back. "But I never forgot you... I just..." Looking for excuses isn't in me, but here I am, scrambling for anything.
"Shhh..." A calming breeze flew over me. I understand; you are growing up so fast.
Releasing a sigh, I admit my greatest flaw. "I've been struggling with that for a while."
She matched my disappointed sigh. "I have seen you struggle."
"So...you know why?" Here's hoping that she isn't anywhere near as all-knowing as I think she is.
"The future you want to change," her ability to know mostly everything I want to hide—I should have known better.
"Am I a monster?" Asking that question to a deity is the only way of knowing the truth. But Janna remained silent, opting to brush my hair with her fingers. A hopeless laugh of mine sent ripples through us both. Janna felt everything, and I can sense her struggling to console a mortal. After I finished laughing in place of crying, I released a resigned sigh. "I knew it..."
"Freedom has its price, and it's often too valuable for most to afford." That's the reality of all Zaunites, and she knew that all too well.
Shifting in her embrace, I look up at her. "So... I'm not wrong for what I'm doing?"
Janna meets my gaze. "Don't worry about what is right or wrong; I can feel your heart. Despite your pain, you have a just spirit, but it is poisoned by rage." She holds my face with her left hand. "Please, Owen, do not allow your rage to burn the world you fear."
All this time, I've accepted my flaws, but I've never confronted my fear of everyone. " Not as afraid as I used to be, Janna moved back slightly, her influence not weakening, but the gesture wasn't lost on me. Feeling her pull away mirrors when I pulled away from her and the church. Janna shook her head. "It's still fear, Owen."
Lashing out at the world and everyone in it is just you being afraid.
"Of everyone. Finally, I can confide in someone. Not everyone, but not for the same reason." She cups my face, obtaining my full attention, as if she didn't have it already. "Your fear of losing your loved ones will guarantee that future."
My chest—that feeling, have I always known this? Have I been hiding from that realization all this time?" But Zaun's united...
Janna closed her eyes and shook her head.
Searching desperately for justifications, I used everything I've got. We're fixing things, people are healthier, and everything's getting better."
Opening her eyes, she searched my very being, even in this state.
"You've neglected yourself." I raised a brow. Have I? I'm not a bag of bones anymore. A smirk raised the left side of her lip. "You shouldn't have lost that fight."
I wanted to lower my head in embarrassment, but Janna's constant gentle breeze soothed me. didn't mean to distress you, but you are the best leader Zaun has; defeat is not an option, do you understand?" The once gentle breeze gradually picked up to a near-constant gust of wind.
"Hearing that come from you makes me worry for Scar." The goddess's encouragement filled me with renewed purpose and courage. Admittedly, Scar scared me when I first saw him. Ever since he kicked my face to pieces, I've been haunted by his image. Well, no more.
"You've got your fighting spirit back." She finally lets me go. I stood tall, renewed by her encouragement.
"It didn't go anywhere." Stretching my limbs in this state feels as if I've never suffered a single injury in my life, but what's the fun in that?
Janna summoned her staff, taking a stance as Zaun's guardian. "Protect our people, Owen; watch over them as I have and always will watch over you.
She then dissipates into her natural element, leaving behind her influence on the wind.
"Hmm..." my eyes gaze over to the last prop. "Wonder if I can do the same thing." With a thought of where I wanted to be, I closed my eyes and appeared inside the bar. The bar is dark and quiet. The only light within is from Vander's room. As I approach his room from behind the counter, his mumblings become clearer.
-reinforcements next month." His voice is under so much self-control, I can't tell if he's distressed, but when I heard another voice speak out, I knew things had gotten serious since my imprisonment.
"They've become bolder since Owen's sentence; perhaps we ought to remind them of Zaun's renewed fortitude, the familiar, smooth voice, graveled by throat-burning alcohol and smoke.
Vander's exhales of disappointment in the limited decisions were lost on me. I pressed myself against the wall to listen in further. The thing is, if we focus on improving the kids' inventions and innovations, that would set them up to lead Zaun along with Owen." Silco takes a long drag and speaks as the smoke rolls out of his mouth and nose. Playing the long game works, if Owen returns sane and whole.
Although I know how nice he is, it does hang on me keeping my sanity.
Stillwater has a grim reputation!" Vander knowingly, with hints of past experience
"But, I believe in my son; he'll get through." His confident declaration was all I needed to hear.
"Vander..." My heart swells with pride and surges with courage. "I won't let you down."
"Although I don't doubt your faith in Owen, nor his ability to make it out, I worry for his mind. Stillwater breaks people in ways in which they are never the same again." Silco's words are met with understandable silence.
I have changed, even though I'm not aware to what extent. One thing hasn't changed: I will defend my people. I wanted to listen further, but their conversation lost meaning in my mind as I faded into the wall.
"Huh, duh..." why wouldn't I be able to do that?
I fell through the floor till I ended up in the basement. What I saw wasn't out of her character. Powder lay sprawled on her bed, with scrap and a half-finished project against her head. Lowering to the floor, I take in the scene. Vi's legs dangle off the edge of the top bunk. She's getting a bit taller. Claggor's looking more like a grown man; so much so I hardly recognize him. Far from the chubby boy he once was. Now, a sleeping giant. Mylo looks to be afraid of the concept of haircuts. His head is now a well-groomed bundle of hair. If this keeps up, cutting that mess will be my first executive order when I get back. To my surprise, it looks like they made room for Ekko to sleep over. At least this brainiac chose to sleep without scraps all around him. But I bet his room at Benzo's is no different. Taking a chance, I lay on the center floor. Just for a moment, I want to take in the sensation of sleeping with my family. But as soon as I close my eyes; I'm back in confinement. Fooling myself even for a moment, is all I wanted. For that moment, I just wanted reality to accept my delusions, rather than me being tortured by them. However, I can't escape the consequences of my own deliberate decisions. The cold dry floor woke my body up. The familiar pain of being painfully mortal fills my body and blocks my senses. The aroma of body fluids and other horrid odors, seeps into my cell. The cold floor bites at my skin, sending fresh waves of bumps across the surface.
My lips parted, releasing a breath. metallic tang with a mixture of dried saliva and morning breath. Can't... be... morning... Ugh, my voice feels like pushing out dirt. The small opening at the bottom of the cell opened. Breakfast, inside a tray, was a tray of grains, an apple, and a loaf of bread.
As I tried to sit up, a fresh wave of morning aches swept my body.
"Hurry up, eat, and then let's train." A commanding voice erupted around my head. With focused effort, I stretched my arm out to tear up my food. The blended meal before was a luxury; this time, I'm on my own.
"Shut up... me..." To occupy my mind and possibly push future me out, I ripped my food apart, bit by bit. "Here to ruin my life, me? To piss me off. Thing is, it would have some more?"
"You miss them," Commander Owen is trying to boil my blood.
The thing is, if it were anyone else, it would have worked. However, I know why he's here.
Pushing the bits of food between the wires, I went for the obvious assumption, "Things are going well in your time, are they?" "Countering his attempt to rattle my mind is the only attack I have, but it does look to bother him just as much." You can say that.
My mouth moves vigorously as I chomp down on my food. "You saw your world ... real ugly. Help me make a better world then."
Looking over at him. His black figure is decorated in distinctive shades of black, grey, and white. The darkness gave Commander Owen's upper body carries the shadow well, highlighting his unique uniform. Where the shadow broke and the light took over, levels of light covered him from the waist down. A seemingly otherworldly light show performed a better mind game than his wordplay; I couldn't make sense out of the two halves of his avatar. The dark half integrated with the light, bringing faint glimmering rays to the flaps and grooves of his uniform. His lighter hat treated the darkness in the same manner. By the time I gave up trying to understand what I was seeing, I had cleared the tray.
Commander Owen pushed himself off the wall. "I remember shoving food through that little cage in my mouth."
I kicked the tray back towards the door. "Did an adult version of you show up whenever he wanted?"
He shook his head. "No, but I wish there was. Instead, I was completely alone. Only the guards and the inmates kept me company."
I tilted my head back and pushed the crumbs back into my mouth. "You can always depend on the guards." I lick my lips. "The inmates, though—that's new. Though they don't let inmates mingle like that."
Commander Owen walks up to me, carrying the light and darkness as a blanket. You know better than that. The warden will let you handle the other inmates for special privileges." Looking towards the cell doors, I can't lie, I have considered striking a deal with him, but... I shook my head. "I can't; it's a pride thing. That mountain of fat and sadism has to pay."
Commander Owen looks down at me with his motionless face. "I understand; I did the same thing."
Tilts my head. "What do you mean, the same thing? What did you do?"
For the first time, Commander Owen smiled. "Not here to give you those kind of ideas. I'm sure you have enough creativity on your own. What I am here to do is to train you."
Chuckles. "Jinx did reach Powder; is that why you're really here?"
He stiffened at the mention of his estranged lover. Admittedly, it was a low blow. But, it's funny in a way; I can feel what he feels. Since we are the same, I understand his plight. "That's right, she taught your Powder everything she knows by now. It's in her nature to spread chaos, whether it's through destruction or instruction."
Finally getting serious. "And Powder would have absorbed whatever she was taught like a sponge. Now I have to do the same."
Commander Owen crouches in front of me. "First lesson..." He then backhands me. Surprisingly, his backhand didn't hurt me, but unsurprisingly, the impact against the metal bars did. My head snaps to Commander Owen. Okay, I would have done the same thing.
Pushing myself off the bars, I lowered to my stance. "Come on."
During those weeks, Commander Owen and I trained every waking moment. The Enforcers that visited were only doing routine checks. Guess they need their favorite pick to be as healthy as possible. His fighting style gave me nightmares. Leg locks that snap the Achilles. Elbow strikes that can shatter the jaw at the right angle. Chopping leg kicks that can shatter bone completely. He even showed me a better way to access eye gouging. It's useful, but not my style. I want to win against Scar, not cripple him.
Commander Owen stopped the moment when the thought entered my mind. "You have mercy for him, huh?"
Shrugs. "I got the sneaky suspicion that it's best to keep him in good graces."
He lunges at me, pressing his lessons with brutal efficiency. "He'll be a thorn in your side, as much as Ekko will."
That hit me in my heart, and he knew that. "You know what..." my focus improves as I strike where vital areas ought to be. "That was rude." That pain in my heart traveled to my fist, and for the first time, the warmth of a living being's ribs gave way to my fist.
The commander staggered back some and smiled. "Knew that would have triggered it."
A clash of a tray startled me. I snapped my head around to see a guard slide the tray in. "Lunch." He then backs away cautiously and leaves.
Staring at the food, I sighed and walked over and grabbed it. "Great, now word will get around that I'm literally shadowboxing."
The Commander shrugged as I ate. "As if it isn't normal around here. When I was in this wonderful place, there was constant yelling and moaning."
I paused at the mention of moaning. "Owen...you can stop right there. That's the last thing I need to hear."
He wheezed in laughter. "It's funny hearing you say that."
Smashes the food in my hand and pushes it through the face cage. "If you're a sick freak who likes to get under people's skin, including mine...a teen..." gives him a knowing look. "...that's weird, you know."
"No weirder than not taking over this prison by now," the Commander pointed out.
My eyes snapped to the cell door, even though, to everyone else, he doesn't exist. "You think I can really do that? Now?"
Commander Owen smirked and crossed his arms, knowing that he has my full attention. "No reason why you can't." He leans forward. "Use the formulas."
A quick simulation runs through my mind. Someone will have to send reports to the mainland every week or so. Then, there should be someone visiting every other week for routine reports. If I am to take over, I need everyone's complete loyalty. That's going to be difficult. Most Zaunites see raw strength as a great tool to lead, but you can always be seen as a bully and get stabbed in the back. Having Vander's charm would help, but I'm a fifth of his size at this point. My hands glide over the tray, and I toss it towards the cell door. While pacing back and forth, Owen allowed me to continue thinking. With leadership come those who will test me. They have allies too, and bonds grow strong while behind bars but are always fickle when the opportunity suits them. Pitting Zaunites against each other is the last thing I want, but it's necessary at this point. The Zaunites will be the new guards and will imprison the Enforcers. Then, there need to be quick shifts to regulate positions for the inspections. Running my hand over the face cage in frustration, I can smell my own bullshit; this won't work. I can feel his eyes burning through me. If I were to pull this off, I would need some insane level of power. The formulas are the answer, but I don't want to rely on something that has its own agenda.
Exhaling, I turned to Commander Owen, who waited patiently against the wall. "Alright, I'll do it."
His artificial face didn't shift; I don't think it can. "Good, I'll let you think up how well that'll work out for you."
Pushing the last of the food through my cage, I gave a conceited nod. "Gee, thanks; you've been so helpful so far."
"And I'll continue to be, because until then..." He pushed himself off the wall and walked towards me. "...you need to redeem yourself."
We then began shadowboxing, going over repetitive drills, until we naturally fell into fighting for real. For the most part, fighting while exhausted helped a lot...oddly enough. It was painful beyond pain. My rising body heat made the entire cell stink of something foul. It got so bad that my eyes began to water and my nose burned. Exhaustion weighed my limbs down. For my ambition to change Zaun forever, I pushed through the pain, forcing my limbs to adjust to the sensation of pure fatigue. Enforcer guards made routine stops at my cell to observe the commotion I've been making. Every day consisted of me washing myself down every day and enduring the daily torture of the future Owen is putting me through. It's all worth it, as the month is coming to a close, and my jaw has healed completely. The two familiar medical enforcers come to remove the cage from my head. This time, they're quiet, with no more banter. That's a shame; they almost seemed human too. They entered my cell; one stood behind me while the other stood in front of me. Both held devices that worked their way into the contraption that held my head together. Outside stood a tall and menacing man, peering into me with indiscernible disgust or rage? Doesn't matter now; my head finally feels lighter. My face breathes in the fresh, dank, and humid cesspool of Stillwater. The duo medical team leaves quickly, shrinking as the bigger Enforcer follows them both with an ominous gaze.
"Your rematch is tomorrow," he stated bluntly.
"Huh." I rub my face, savoring every inch of the new scar I have above my jawline. "Could have used that cage."
The Enforcer's head flinched slightly; it might have been a suppressed chuckle. "Same bet, we all want you to dive again."
That irritated me for sure. "Don't any of you have any faith in me at all?"
"The Enforcer slowly shook his head. "No."