Ironmage

Gyrahem: It's known around the globe for being simultaneously magnificent and terrifying, on top of its renown for coffee shops, quaint cafes, and shopping malls synonymous to labyrinths. Foreigners take one look at photographs shot within the country and either grin in appreciation of the aesthetics, or shutter at what one could only compare to the unadulterated nightmares of reality. Here, we citizens can go fishing in lakes which turn from pale blue to neon purple the second moonlight strikes them; a few miles to your right, you might discover a poor, crying, forsaken forest begging for mercy as it suffers the wrath of bitter clouds that circle it like bloodthirsty vultures. Don't get me wrong, though, not all of our cities are so bizarre in appearance.

For example, there's the city of Aobasani, a spectacularly large metropolis packed with just about everything and every type of person you could possibly dream up—a popular tourist attraction. Then, there's the small, quiet, peaceful towns of Litville, where everyone literally knows everyone; Dalmond, where the sun supposedly never rises; and Sorilia, where the people believe the butterfly is the national animal. There are others, many others, but listing them all would be nothing but tedious; there is, however, a way I could sum everything up in a simple way. Let's just say that no living creature who is in their right mind chooses to live near Bluegate—that would be the city I was unfortunate enough to end up in. It's set somewhat afar off from other urban areas, like an alien child shunned by its cruel and narrow-minded family, and many Gyrahem residents dare not venture near it, for they live each and every day in fear of the demons they believe to be lurking around the city boundaries. They believe that, if you were to set a foot outside the fifteen-foot wall along the border, you would be torn apart by the demons sequestered in the darkness, or—for those who suspect demons are carnivorous—devoured on the spot.

I'm not quite sure I believe these fantastical stories, but one thing is for sure: demons did exist. In fact, I had a strong feeling that demons were the culprits behind the unspeakable weather patterns in Bluegate. For instance, in the middle of summer, one day it could be eighty degrees out, and the next, there could be a raging blizzard right outside your door—so basically, you had to be prepared for the weather no matter what time of the year it was.

Now let's talk a little more about me.

As a child, curiosity compelled me to investigate the mysterious happenings that occurred in Bluegate, but I had no way of discovering the truth behind them. When I was seven years old, my father took my best friend Morgan and I to an amusement park, where I could've sworn I saw the shadow of a tail waving back and forth behind the ring toss man. I told my father about this, and surprisingly, he agreed with my assumption. "Yes, he must be a demon," he'd said with a smile. My dad was always so encouraging of my beliefs, regardless of how ridiculous they may have sounded. He would take Morgan and I everywhere when we were kids, ensuring that, by the end of the day, we'd had the time of our lives. But as the saying goes, people change with the times—and that's precisely what happened.

It was the night of December 3, my 8th birthday; my dad approached the entire family—consisting of my mother, my little brother Aki, and me—with a suspicious confession. "I have to leave," he told us. When we asked him why, he claimed that he was unable to provide any details. He simply said that it was to protect me—not the whole family, but me in particular. Mom desperately exerted herself to convince him to stay, but he wouldn't listen. He repeatedly apologized and said that no matter what...he would always love her. The same thing applied to my brother and me. However, simply telling us this didn't suffice.

And just after he walked out into the pouring rain on that cold, December night, my peaceful little life took a dreadful turn down misery road.

Mom collapsed into a fit of uncontrollable tears that lasted for at least a couple of hours. I'm sure that it would have been less painful for her if Dad had said he hated her. But now, she had to live the rest of her life raising two boys on her own, suffering a guilty, perplexed conscience that demanded answers from a man who would most likely never return. And do you want to know the worst part of it all? That's right—my mom blamed it on me. She was in such an emotionally unstable state, crying and shouting that I was at fault, and my foolish mind deducted that it was all due to one stupid coincidence: on the day I was born, it was raining.

Eight years later, it rained again, and that was the day Dad left us. So on that very same day, I spent the worst birthday of my life cowering in the corner of my room as my mother cried out all of her tears. Aki was just a baby then, so he didn't remember anything that happened concerning the incident. I guess...perhaps, that's one thing I am to be thankful for.

Ever since then, I knew that the road ahead wasn't going to be easy for me. And as it turned out, on what seemed like a casual day, the most unusual thing happened. And little did I know, it was something that would change my life forever.

+++

Tuesday, April 15

It was a frigid, autumn afternoon, and I was sitting on my bed, not thinking about nor doing anything in particular. Often times this obstacle of a scenario would occur, where'd I'd be so desperate for some kind of physical activity that I foresaw boredom as my cause of death. I thought about calling Morgan, but if I did that, I'd probably regret it. He never did know when to shut up.

At that moment, as if to answer my wish, I heard a knock on my door, and I instantly realized it was my mother. "Come in!" I called. She slowly opened the door and poked her head in.

"Hanako, I need you to run an errand for me," she uttered in a soft voice. "There's an outdoors farmers market today through Friday, so I'd like you to go shopping for me."

"No problem," I told her, trying to hide the obvious enthusiasm in my tone. "I'll leave right away."

"Thank you, Hanako."

With that, I hastily grabbed my thick, wool jacket and pulled on my black leather boots, then rushed out the door into the pearly white snow that covered Bluegate like a soft blanket. The air was cold and crisp, sort of like winter and autumn air winded together to form a sort of tranquil feeling in the atmosphere. As I strolled down my street, the scent of fresh produce flew up my nostrils, enveloping me with a pleasantly familiar sensation. Tomorrow was Gyrahem's founding day, so there were plenty of fantastic and eye-catching decorations all around to add to the festivity.

Before long, the many colorful stands came into view, and I soon found myself happily browsing the assorted goods. It wasn't that I was particularly psyched to go produce shopping, but rather my enthusiasm originated from the realization I would be helping my mom, and nowadays, that was all I longed to do. Ever since the day Dad left us, I'd had the sneaking suspicion that Mom secretly hated me. As a foolish child, I suppose that's an assumption you can understand. But even now, as a sixteen-year-old boy, I still had that very same suspicion. So I always tried my hardest to do anything I could to take care of my mother, and to make the rest of her years stress-free.

I was distracted at the moment, both by my thoughts and by the hustle and bustle of crowd passerby, so I hadn't noticed at first what was taking place in a dark alley nearby. Suddenly, I heard a deep cry of agony from somewhere to the right of where I currently stood. I slipped passed a tomato stand and into the alley, which was shadowed by a line of clothing hanging overhead. I didn't see anything at first, but as I continued walking, the cries of distress grew louder.

Before I knew it, two dark, mysterious figures came into sight. It didn't take long for me to realize that they were in a fist fight. They were two young men, one looking to be about my age, the other a couple years older. The younger boy's face was covered in blood and bruises, while the only thing damaged about the other's was the blood on his clenched fist. My eyes narrowed on the older boy, and the second he took notice of this, he discarded of the younger boy by chucking him against the wall, then fixed his gaze intimidatingly on mine. Why I had ever stepped into this was beyond me.

I always suspected that my curiosity would be the death of me.

I shook my head wildly as I sensed myself being cornered. He began to move closer, and fear piled up like a mountain inside me—I could have run away. Nevertheless, my conscience was telling me that if I ran away, I would have lost this battle. It was undoubtedly injustice for a guy like him to be beating up someone of lesser physical ability, let alone anyone. I would know, after all. I was a victim of bullying.

"I don't want any trouble," I admonished, though I was certain my pathetic voice must taken away from any respect this boy had for me—that is, if 'respect' were the right word for it. "I just wanted to...ask you to leave this...kid alone..."

What am I doing?

My brain wasn't given the chance to reciprocate properly at first. And the next thing that struck me wasn't a warning, but rather a fist that just about drove a hole through my already overturned stomach. Unfortunately for me, just one punch wasn't enough to satisfy him. I was beaten senseless, my eyes feeling swollen, my cheeks sore from the tough knuckles they undesirably became acquainted with. I could taste blood. My own blood. And it was at that moment, the moment I thought I had reached my limit, that I began to feel something strange welling up inside me. It started out small and virtually insignificant, but with each hit I endured, I could feel it growing exponentially, but before long, it calmed.

But that overwhelming sensation of power never left my body. Without my noticing, the older boy slowly began to back away from me, a look of unadulterated terror in his eyes. I thought I had won. I thought that the two of us would be able to part ways, and my pride would still be somewhat in tact. But just as my abuser turned his back to me and was preparing to make his escape, some uncontrollable force within me urged me to outstretch my hand and seize the boy's arm, freezing him in his tracks. I felt something strange happen to my eyes, and everything suddenly became blurry, as did the voices and noises surrounding me. My heartbeat quickened considerably, and I strained to let out a cry of help—instead, out of my mouth came a twisted, devilish cackle.

I remembered the fear. Not only my fear, but the fear on the faces of those two strangers as they beheld this monstrosity before them.

+++

"Mister Izumi? Mister Izumi. Please wake up, Mister Izumi."

I opened my heavy eyes, only to find myself face-to-face with a female police officer. She was tall, slim, and had short, curly red hair and light blue eyes.

I asked her where I was.

"You're at the police station," she replied. My eyes widened.

"Why...why am I at the police station?"

"Are you saying you don't remember? You got in a fight in an alley down by the farmers market, but I believe it got...a bit out of control. The older boy died by your hand. He went by the name Matthew Peterson. Did you know him?"

My head throbbed with the confusion that bound my brain. My heart was in no better condition. "I...killed him?"

"You did," she said monotonously. "And I also hate to inform you that you're going to have to go to court—then again, I'm sure you already knew that. After all, here in Bluegate, you are at an eligible age to go to prison, especially for a crime as serious as murder. It's a shame, too." Her lips bent into a frown. "You don't look like the type of person who'd do such a thing intentionally."

"That's because I'm not," I whispered, but my soft spoken words were lost in the clouded atmosphere lurking about my head. "I'm not...I mean, I didn't..."

"I'm sorry, Mister Izumi, but we have evidence," she said, uttering a gentle sigh. "Now I'm not one to jump to conclusions, but I saw the footage caught by one of the security camera, and if my eyes still serve me well, then what I witnessed was not what you would call your typical street fight. You are one heck of a special boy, has your mother ever told you that?"

Mom. "I need to get home."

The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, but you can't. Tell ya what, though, you'll be able to see your mom real soon. We're having a court session tomorrow. The judge is going to decide whether or not to allow you to continue living in Bluegate." She paused for a moment, gaze lingering over my left cheek, which I knew for a fact had been marked in purple and blue by that boy's fists. "Kind like you, it's just not safe to have you around. Bluegate is a dangerous city as it is, and with all those demons supposedly living outside the walls, well, we can't take risks. We've lost too many innocent people. We gotta take care of you."

With that, the police woman turned her back to me and walked away, the sound of her footsteps diminishing as she strode across the cobblestone floor tiles. Where I was felt more like a prison cell than just some old police station, as the guard had informed me. And yet, the discomfort it brought me wasn't the first thing on my mind.

"They're going to throw me out..."

My voice shook. My words, frozen in the air. My head grew heavy, and soon I simply gave up on supporting it. I allowed it to fall back until I was lying uncomfortably—sideways on the cold and stiff prison bed.

"They're going to throw me out..."

I could only imagine what Mom's reaction would be when she found out about what happened. No doubt that after this little incident was over and done with, she would gaze down upon me with more shame and disgust than usual. That was what I was now afraid of. And I knew that when tomorrow came, my heart would be stabbed and injected with eight long years of unbearable guilt and regret.

+++

April 16

"Time to wake up, sunshine."

This time it was a rather deep, raspy voice that awoke me. I pried open one eye and dared to make a glance at this fierce-looking bearded policeman towering over me. His beady brown eyes were fixed on me, a deeply furrowed brow crowning them. "Get up," he ordered. "You of all people can't be late."

With great reluctance I lifted my head until I was sitting upright. I yawned, rubbed my eyes, and stood up—then, without a choice, I followed the bearded policeman out of the prison cell.

My eyes were still having trouble adjusting to the sudden increase in light, so I hadn't really seen where I was going, nor what was around me. I simply followed the sound of the policeman's leather boots clacking against the stone floor, and before long, we had arrived at our destination: the courtroom. I blinked several times, and shockingly enough, my vision improved. On the left side of the courtroom, there were a several dozen rows of velvet-covered wooden benches that would soon seat the judgmental and merciless citizens and politicians of Bluegate.

The center of the room was a long, empty stretch of space, carpeted by a crimson rug that led all the way up to the front of the judge's chair. Right beside that sat the defendant's chair, on a much lower level than the judge's, so that I could yet again be looked down upon by my superiors. On the right, there was another set of benches identical to those on the left. As for the walls, all that clothed them were unlit wax candles that seemed to be present merely for the sake of an antique appearance.

The police guard snapped me out of my daze by slapping me aggressively on the back. "What do you say, how 'bout you go get a good feel of that chair up there where you'll be seated this fine morning?" He said with a conniving smirk. Finding myself unable to refuse, I was given a forceful push on my way and was soon walking down the aisle. My conscience pictured the looks of abhorrence I would receive from the crowd who would be judging me in just a little while. It sent chills down my spine, ones that I could not easily shake off. I climbed the short set of stairs that led to my chair, then took a seat.

My life seemed to flash before my eyes. And I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. The only emotion I could feel was dread.

What seemed like a long while later, I sat as frozen as a statue in that chair, my eyes widened to their full capacity as I stared ahead at the enormous, gate-like doors ahead of me. Before I knew what was happening, people began filing in and taking their seats in the many rows of chairs on either side of the room. I blinked quickly and repeatedly, partially in a way that was begging the world around me to slow down, or even stop for just a moment to allow me to get my act together, but no such thing occurred.

Alas, the once silent, hollow room had been completely filled. And in the very front row of the nearest bench sat the last person I wanted to see me in this state.

My mother.

I wanted to call out to her. I wanted to plead her to leave. I wanted to send her as far away from me as possible, because I didn't want her to see the look on my face. But as I opened my mouth and attempted to project my voice, nothing came out. Instead, the entire crowd's attention was captured by the obese, bald man that came storming into the room. His giant, heavy footsteps seemed to shake the ground as he approached me with a frightening gleam in his eye. He climbed the set of stairs to reach his chair, partially lifted up his black gown, then seated himself.

He picked up his wooden gavel and slammed it on his desk, indicating the start of the session. The room was silent at first, and the entire crowd seemed to be on the edges of their seats, anticipated looks plastered on their faces. All except my mother, that is.

She looked cruelly dispassionate.

With a booming voice, the judge announced, "Hanako Giovanni Izumi. You are here today so that we may discuss the continuation of your life in Bluegate. Yesterday, in an alley behind the farmers market on Westfield Avenue, a police guard, along with a security camera, caught clear evidence of the dreadful occurrence. Every single individual in this courtroom has been given the option of viewing the footage. There is only one who refused this opportunity, and that person was Mrs. Diana Izumi, your mother. That being said, most everyone knows of what you are, and of what you did to that poor old Matthew Peterson. There is no doubt that the odds are stacked against you in this case, Mr. Izumi. Therefore, if you have no further way to defend yourself, then the court has already made its decision. Have you any?"

Without even giving it a second thought, I shook my head pitifully. "No, your honor."

"Then it is decided," said the judge, raising his gavel high above his head. "Hanako Izumi is hereby banished from Bl-"

"Finish that sentence and I'll slit your throat."

It was at that moment that I felt a jolt in my chest, and my heart sank. The entire room gasped and turned their heads to the doors as they heard a dark voice echo throughout the room. The courtroom doors swung open, and there stood a man wearing a tainted white shirt and a charcoal black vest. Tightly fastened around his pant legs were several gold-colored belts. His boots reached just below his knees, and one of his arms was completely covered by a metal gauntlet of sorts. And lastly, partially hidden behind his spiky black hair, over his left eye, was a red, mechanical-looking eyepatch that had a black cross across the front.

"What is the meaning of this?!" The judge exclaimed worriedly. "How did you get in here?!"

"I may have killed a few sad suckers who got in my way," the mysterious man deadpanned. "Also, you are to stop this court session immediately."

He made his way down the aisle by taking wide yet smooth strides, and everyone who was sitting down at the time moved to the ends of the rows farthest from him.

The judge dropped his gavel and pushed back his chair while standing up, furiously slamming his hands down on his desk, creating a reverberating echo. "Who do you think you are?!" He roared.

"I should be asking you the same thing..." The mysterious man smirked. "Who do you think I am?"

Now even the judge was stricken with fear. And he was sweating quite visibly.

"G-guards! Seize that man!!"

Two police guards tore out their handguns and aimed them at the man, but they weren't quick enough. Before anyone had the chance to react, the most unspeakable thing happened. The intruder raised his gauntlet arm into the air, high enough so that everyone could see that it had begun glowing an eerie green color. He made a fist and narrowed his sight on the bearded officer.

In the beat of a heart that very same arm had gone through the officer's stomach. Thick, crimson blood dripped slowly from the man's metal fingers as his hand remained still, almost as if it were unable to move.

The courtroom itself seemed to bellow out a cry for help, and the people all took off as fast as they could to escape sudden doom. I was left alone with the petrified judge. Fortunately, it seemed, the intruder was currently distracted, so I took this moment to shake the judge vigorously by the shoulder, hoping to snap him back into focus.

"Your honor. Your honor! You should get out of here while you can!"

It took a little while, but I eventually succeeded in getting him to move, and I sent him on his way. As soon as he was out of the room, the doors shut behind him, and I was completely trapped. I could hear my bones creak as I turned my head to face this mysterious man, who had just now retracted his hand from the police guard's chest.

"You're lucky I got here in time."

"P-pardon?" I stuttered.

"Allow me to introduce myself." He bowed and lifted his eye at me. "I am known as Ironmage. I am here to save you from your certain doom."

"Certain doom?"

Who says 'certain doom'?

"What do you mean 'certain doom'? They were about to throw me out of Bluegate, that's all."

What am I saying, talking as if it's no big deal?

"That's all?" Ironmage narrowed his gaze and glared at me coldly. "Are you that stupid, boy? They were sending you to your death."

"No, they weren't." Another lie.

"They may not have been doing it directly or even intentionally, but there are savage creatures and armies of demons outside of Bluegate—somewhere...just waiting patiently to get a hold of you."

My breath escaped me momentarily.

So the stories aren't just stories. Either that or this guy is really persistent.

I jumped down the steps beside my chair and was soon standing face to face with the intruder calling himself Ironmage. "What are you talking about?"

"Hanako Izumi, I'm asking you to come with me. It's not safe here for you anymore," he said solemnly. "They have discovered a way to get within the city boundaries unnoticed, and they will be coming to find you. The only way you'll survive is if you have my guidance." He bowed again, this time with his hands folded together humbly. "Please, Hanako."

I was about to refuse, but before I could, a window behind me shattered, and shards of glass rained down on the two of us.

"Get down!"

Ironmage tackled me out of the way of a boulder-like man that seemed to have fallen from the sky. If you could even call it a man, that is. I shoved Ironmage off me and frantically rose to my feet, soon finding myself staring into the dark, crimson eyes of a burly man wearing a checkered shirt and a pair of blood red horns on his melon-shaped head. His many, sharp teeth were showing as he glared vengefully at both Ironmage and me. "I've finally caught up to you~..." He snarled.

"Ya came all this way for nothing, demon!" Ironmage shouted, standing up and seizing my wrist. "The Shadow Keeper is mine!"

The what-?

"Ironmage, I shall not pass up this most fortunate opportunity to bring both the Shadow Keeper and his guardian in for the bounty," the horned man said in a low voice. "The Shadow Keeper is wanted alive, but no such specifications were given for you. That means I'm free to take your life."

"I'd like to see you try!" Ironmage cried, his gauntlet beginning to glow again. The two charged at each other, but in the blink of an eye, Ironmage had grabbed the horned man by the waist, hoisted him over his shoulder, and had pinned him to the ground.

"I have no time to play games, especially not with someone as pathetic as you."

With that being said, Ironmage used his gauntlet to strangle the demon until his crimson eyes changed to a blank white, then disappeared behind his eyelids.

"You...s-sound exhausted," I said, noting the man's ragged breathing and trying to ignore the fact I had witnessed him kill two people with one hand.

"We need to get out of here," he panted, standing up and stumbling over to me, "before more of 'em come."

I wasn't able to match Ironmage's psychical strength, even with him in the somewhat drained state he was in. It was because of this that I ended up following him out the doors of the courthouse and into the empty streets outside.

"Here marks the start of a long and arduous journey, not only for us, but for everyone," he spoke ominously. "Prepare for the worst, Hanako."

Ironmage's words frightened me. And as the blinding sun faded to black, and black ash began to rain down in place of the snow, I came to realize that I had just stepped onto a minefield, and only dark things lay ahead for me.