Nevermore: of Ryn and Reese

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  • Published: 30 Oct 2016
  • Updated: 19 Nov 2016
  • Status: Complete
Reese has grown up in the world of the aftermath of a devastating war, raised by what used to be the enemy of humans: the Scintulla. Now, though, someone wants to finish off the scarce Scintulla, as revenge for the decimated human race. (endfic comp)

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9. Popper

Ryn walks, watching the sunrise, thinking deeply.

Suddenly, there's a rumbling. Ryn is jarred out of his thoughts. Panicking, he dives behind a rock and morphs into human form.

The rumbling stops.

"You, there, come out of the bush!" yells a man's voice. Ryn, his heart beating wildly, stand up out of the bush. Ryn's eyes meet steely gray ones. They belong to a short man atop a very large horse. The man's hair is long and black, not unlike Ryn's. The men around him carry either guns or swords. The guns frighten Ryn.

"Just a boy," declares the man. His men don't relax. The man turns to Ryn. "What are you doing out here, son?" Ryn's jaw twitches at the word son.

"I'm just a wanderer," says Ryn, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Bit young to be a wanderer," says the man. Hi gray eyes pierce Ryn.

"Left my group a few days ago," says Ryn. Something about the man's eyes make him sick.

"It's dangerous to travel alone boy," says the man. Ryn's jaw twitches again. "Haven't you heard of, or seen the dangerous creatures out here? Those fire horses and or dragons or meat-eating rabbits."

"Dragons?" asks Ryn. 

"Dragons, drakons. No difference, really," says the man, waving his hand. "Anyway, it's dangerous for a young lad like yourself to be out here alone. I propose to you that you join our party."

"What do you do?" asks Ryn, still feeling a bad feeling in his gut. 

"We just ride along, neutralizing threats. Nothing serious. It can be fun at times." Something flashes in the gray eyes, some kind of emotion.

"Ah, all right. Which way are you headed?"

"Towards the rising sun, m'boy." Ryn's jaw twitches.

"Yeah, sure, I'll go with you."

"Hop aboard my pack horse." The man points to a young looking horse with only two saddle bags on it. Ryn gets on. "May I have your name, child?"

"Popper." 

"Interesting name, boy," hisses the man.

"It is," says Ryn. He stares forward as they horses walk. 

The man says, "And I am Targaten."

That's when it all clicks.

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