Truth

Everything happened fast. Too fast. This was just supposed to be a routine observation assignment. All Marco was meant to do was watch and take note of every guest that came to this private party. No fighting, no stealing, just watching. A job he pleaded with his father to not let Sasha on. Because to Marco, and just about everybody else, she was a bad omen and an even bigger nuisance. But his father's "infinite wisdom" always compelled him to add Sasha to operations she just was not needed for. She was always either just there or doing absolutely nothing. Marco had to admit her addition was never detrimental but still he could not imagine why his father brought her into the resistance or even where she came from. However, now he knew. Or at least somewhat understood. But that still begs the questions, why was Marco here? Was this part of the plan? And if so, why? But most importantly, Marco asked himself, "What the hell is going on?"

Marco had sworn he was just kneeling down by Sasha's side, asking her over and over again what was wrong and panicking that they were drawing too much attention. This all began when he spotted a white carriage with golden embroidery grossly draped across it. The driver was a big hunk of ugly and muscle as were the large horses that pulled the carriage along. But the most notable one was not even the ghoulish looking guards that stepped out once the carriage stopped a few feet in front of them, but the stark white... being that gracefully stepped, floated even, out of the carriage door. It wore an all-white formal attire save for the red tie that laid perfectly around their neck and snugged within their white suit. It's face, well... as far as Marco could tell it had no face. It was just a skull of pure white skin. The thing was almost beautiful, and if it were not for the bizarre situation, or the utter chill that emanated from the being, Marco would have been woefully enchanted.

However, before he could even think to pull himself together, Sasha rose beside him. But to his wild bewilderment, it was not Sasha that stood next to him, but a tall, muscular, man with flowing red hair and pitch-black skin, which was covered in numerous golden symbols and shapes. His ears were pointed, his eyes shown gold as well, and when he smiled, he displayed a set a pearly white, razor sharp, teeth. And his voice, however, was not only much deeper but emanated both powerful pride and an even more powerful bloodlust.

"I was hoping for the real you, but an emissary will do... for now at least." The mysterious man grinned before disappearing from Marco's sight.

In that next instant, all Marco could see were blurs of the guards' decapitated bodies strewn about; and hear a deafening crash, which was followed by a wake of destruction that stretched far ahead into the misty forest. The ground was ruptured and shattered for what seemed like a mile; while the trees lay torn, limping over drastically as if a tornado had passed through. All Marco could do was look ahead, horribly stunned as a hoard of party guests began to crowd over the castle's various balconies, demanding that the castle guards tell them what was happening. Ironically enough, it only took a second for those authoritative demands to divulge into pleads of help and safety as the mysterious man came barreling out of the forest, crashing right into the castle doors. Now there was hysteria. All of the guests, guards, and patrons of the castle alike fled for their lives. Even the few mighty Drakons that showed wanted nothing to do with this fight and it was not at all hard to see why. The mysterious man was scary enough but the thing that crawled out of the misty woods was a whole other nightmare.

A humongous monster the color of rust, slithered slowly forward. Dragged along by its massive, three fingered, clawed hands. Its leathery wings seemed to almost block out the moonlight itself as it reared itself up. The three hollow eyes that sat right above its saber fanged mouth looked at nothing, but Marco could easily feel it saw everything. But even in its monstrous form, Marco could still see the same facial structures on the behemoth that were on the white being. He knew then that what he saw was a ghoul but never had he seen one make such a transformation or let alone even heard about it. He also wanted to run now more than ever. Not to report his detrimental findings, but to get away with his life intact. But he could not, he was stuck there. A twisted mixture of fear of the monster and shame of running away broiled inside him, numbing his bones and choking his lungs. All Marco could do was just... watch and wait for the end. Fortunately, the end was near but not for him.

Soon enough the mysterious man appeared out of the dust and rubble, seemingly completely unscathed. He did not even utter a word, just smiled wildly as he bit into his hand, drawing dark red blood that burned into a dazzling vermillion flame. That sent the rusted nightmare into a frenzy as it immediately charged forward. It was only now that Marco could even feel his emotions stirring. Thoughts of his parents and life far before the resistance sprung forward. Marco could almost smell the delicious cooking his father brewed just as much as he could almost feel the warmth of the fire his mother had stoked for them. He wondered if this was what it was like to have your life flash before your eyes, or if... this is what it was like to cross over into the beyond.

Whatever it was, was completely overshadowed by the magnificent display of fiery colors that surrounded him. Marco had snapped back to reality, witnessing in awe at the giant rusty creature burning in two as the wondrously, radiant, fire engulfed everything; except for the mysterious man, and Marco himself. He looked over and saw that the man still held his wild grin as he held a blazing red, ruby sword. He held the vibrantly ominous weapon low in front of him as if he just swung it down. Marco was lost in terror and amazement at even the slightest implication that the man did all of this, just by swinging a sword.

But before he could get a closer glance, the sword then disappeared, leaving the mystery completely unsolved. The mysterious man himself simply leaned back with his arms wide open and boomed with malevolent laughter. However, the laughter was short lived as the man began to wobble and groan, grabbing his head.

"Fine, fine" the man laughed. He then turned to Marco and asked, "Boy, what is your name?" Marco was stunned at the question and would have remained speechless if not for the ferocious bloodlust that still hung in the man's eyes.

"M-marco." He said shakingly.

"Well, Marco," the man chuckled, his golden eyes affixed sinisterly upon Marco. "Be sure to take good care of Sasha, or the flames of AkaRa will devour you too."

Even after the mysterious man morphed back into Sasha in a wave of smoke, Marco was still all too stunned to move. Let alone comprehend what he just witnessed. He just sat there for a moment, staring at the Sasha's unconscious frame. Not as the naked and vulnerable woman she was, but as some sort of ticking time bomb that was ready to blow again. He wanted to leave it right where it was and get away as far as possible. To hopefully never come across it again. But just as he stood up and turned his back, something held him there in place. Not some mystic force, but by the entrapment of primal emotions. Guilt, empathy, sorrow, and mercy chained Marco to that very spot and with each passing second pulled him in tighter. It was not his assignment to watch over her yet, at least in this moment, he begrudgingly made it his. And so, Marco carefully picked Sasha up, saddled her onto a carriage horse that he spotted in the distance, along with himself, and rode towards home. In search of sanctuary, but more importantly; in search of answers.