Chapter 2--Fallon

Chapter 2--Fallon

He was cute, I’d give him that. But he was obviously uncomfortable around me. He was shifty, his gay little shirt swaying around his midriff. I leaned on my cane, watching his eyes dart from the bowstring to the arrows, from the arrows to the bowstring, back and forth, back and forth. I couldn’t help but smile, trying not to laugh as I stood up straighter, starting to walk.

“So you’re a sissy city-boy, are you?” No point in masking my disdain, or anything else, for that matter. I was me, take it or leave it. The kid put his hand on his hip, glaring at me.

“I am not a sissy, you vagrant!” He was somewhat shrill, but not in a bad way. Just a little alto.

I imagined the face he was making and chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Dumb faggot.” I shook my head. Arguing with vagrant was stupid. I was a vagrant, a tramp, homeless and lost. But he was a moron. He was gay. I could tell.

I would know. I was myself.

“Hey, you have no right to say anything at all about me, you vile, mangy, filthy rat!”

That was it. I turned quickly, glaring. “Look, kid, I’m not doing this for my health. Either shut your girly trap, or get lost, I don’t have all day.”

He looked surprised, then furrowed his primly plucked brow. “I am no kid. I’m eighteen, I’ll have you know.” He walked on ahead of me, head held high. “Go back to fishing, peasant. I don’t need you. Goodbye.”

I chuckled. “Peasant? Well, good luck, your highness.”


A short time later, he came back, a defeated look on his face. “Okay, okay, I was out of line. I’m sorry. But…I really need your help.” He looked pitiful, and even though I could tell he was doing it on purpose, it killed me.

“Ugh, all right, just quit making that face. You look like a five-year-old.” I used my cane to push myself to my feet, sighing. “We’ll need to stop when it gets dark. After dark, this place isn’t pleasant… if everything’s the way I remember it.” I was speaking slowly by the end of the sentence. The more I looked, the more the kid resembled him. And that wasn’t good. But it was impossible. He’d had no siblings. No family. And there was no way that he and Gian would have made a kid this age in such a short time. Then again, I didn’t know how long I’d been out. It could have been days, months, weeks… years. That was a scary thought. But I wasn’t aged, so it couldn’t have been too long.

Could it?

“Fine, but please, bathe or something. You look gross.” The kid had his arms wrapped around himself, giving me a funny look. I rolled my eyes.

“I’m clean, I swear. These clothes are not going to get any prettier. They came brown, now they’re old, so they’re faded. It’s not dirt.”

“Then brush your hair. It looks awful.”

“No! I’m not primping for your benefit.”

“Do it for yours. You’ll get a lot more women that way, because I’m sure you’re rather attractive under all that grunge.”

I laughed. “Yeah. Women. That’s what I’m all about. Women. Sheesh. And I feel I’m plenty attractive this way, thank you very much.” I swept the hat off my head. “And even so, I’d never want to be a ladies man, unless ‘ladies’ is what people are calling fags now.”

His face was priceless. “So… you…?”

“Yep. Very.” I laughed loudly. “Weren’t expecting that one, were you, pretty-boy?”

He turned a bright red, shaking his head. “No, not really… I’ve never actually met anyone that was gay before. That, and you don’t seem the type.”

“Not every gay man wears bright colors and tight pants.” I smirked as his face turned another shade of red; it went nicely with his hair. He looked down at his turquoise shirt and tight-fitting bellbottoms.

“I’ll assume you’ve figured me out?” He looked shy, a big difference from the kid full of bravado and self-assurance I’d met a short time ago.

“Did I not call you a faggot?”

“I thought you were just being an asshole.”

“I was. But I was also calling you a faggot. No straight man would ever venture outdoors in that.”

“Ah. Fair point.”

“Can we get going? I’d like to get back to eating.”

“Well, you can go ahead and eat, just hurry.”

“I’ll take my sweet time, princess. I don’t take orders from you.” I sat down, sighing. “Well, I guess I can’t take my sweet time. I don’t have anything to eat.” My stomach growled quietly, trying gently to remind me that it needed nourishment. Not like it’d get any. I was a horrible fisherman.

“Well, then, peasant, let’s go.” I caught sight of a smirk on his face before he turned around, hair bouncing. I sighed again and stood.

“Fine, fine, princess. But I expect a meal in return for taking you home.” I limped onward, getting in front of him. “And I can’t lead you anywhere if you try and take the lead yourself.”

He pouted his lips, arms crossed. “Then lead me, oh wise one. Make it quick. I’d like to spend as little time with you as possible.” He stuck his nose in the air, making a little hmph sound. I elbowed him.

“Watch it, ginger. I might just kill you and make you my dinner if you don’t.” His face. It was so perfect. He looked horrified, but trying to remain haughty at the same time. I began to laugh at the sight of it.

“Oh, quit it. Just shut up and go.” He pointed along the path we were walking, trying not to be flustered. I guess he didn’t know that I was only half-joking.

“Fine. But you get to walk ahead of me.” I started to push him, hearing him squeak. I laughed again, but he spun out of my reach and shoved me roughly.

“Stop being such a jerk!” He looked flustered, which had been my goal. Upsetting the uptight was a hobby of mine.

“Why should I? You’ve called me mangy, vile, filthy, gross, grungy, a vagrant, a peasant, a rat, an asshole, and now, a jerk. I have every right to be rude to you.”

The kid narrowed his eyes. “Even so, I was right on every account, possibly excepting the rat. And you’ve called me names, too! Kid, sissy, princess, pretty-boy—”

“How old are you, five? Seriously, just shut up! I’m leading you out of here. Be content and shut your trap.” I shook my head, wondering why his high pitch didn’t give me a headache.

“Hobo.”

“Homo.”

“Hmph. Touché.”



• • • • • • • • • •



We managed not to kill each other as we walked around the forest, attempting to find the way out. I’d only used it as an escape route; it had been years since I’d last entered it. Back then, I’d been able to navigate it rather easily. Now, I was lost.

“How did you wind up in the forest, anyhow?” Maybe idle chitchat would keep us from going at each other’s throats.

“I was trying to find my dad. He and my mom have always had this secret, and they’ve always kept it from me, and I really wanted to know, so I was trying to find out what it was, and I didn’t really see where I was going, and I ended up here. Then I heard you singing…”

I felt my face flush. “You—you heard me singing.”

“Well, yeah, and I figured that it meant there was civilization nearby, which would mean I could get home, but I found you instead.”

I couldn’t think properly enough to come up with a witty reply. I did not sing for people. I did not let them hear me sing. But he had. He… whoops.

“So, uh, what’s your name?” I’d just realized that I’d never asked.

“Huh? Oh, I’m Shalimar, but I go by Shali. You?”

“Fallon. Just Fallon.”

“I see…” He was obviously used to saying ‘Nice to meet you’, but had thought better of it.

I looked around, seeing nothing but trees, dirt, and shadows.

“Um. I have no damn clue where we’re going.”

“Don’t you know the place you live?”

“I don’t live here, kid. I haven’t really lived anywhere for quite some time.”

“Really? Then where do you go when the day is done?”

“Um, nowhere. I used to work all day and night. Now, I just stay around here. And you just sounded really gay.”

“Newsflash: I am gay.”

“I figured that out about two seconds after I saw you.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Just walk, peasant.”

“That shit is getting old.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just go.”

Instead of obeying, I sat down, stretching my legs. “Screw you, pansy. Go your own way.”

“I tried that already, and I came back, didn’t I?”

“Then treat me a little nicer.”

“If you’d quit calling me gay.”

“Then stop being gay.”

“You can’t just stop being gay, you idiot!”

“You can if you try hard enough.”

“Not likely.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then don’t knock it.”

“Ugh. Can we go already?”

I looked around, noting the darkening sky. “Even if I wanted to go with you, I wouldn’t go now, unless you like being eaten by voracious, wild, mutant animals.”

“What?”

“You heard me. The Ruler set his failed projects loose in this forest. They are not nice.”

“The Ruler? What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of the Ruler.”

“No. What is it?”

“He’s the form of government. They guy who presides over the Continent? Not ringing a bell?”

“Nope. We have a democracy. We vote in the President. Hello? Where have you been for the past twenty years?”

Twenty years. That gave Gian and Donree plenty of time for baby-makin’. Especially this baby. It was possible… but I wouldn’t think about that. There was no way. Karma wouldn’t bite me in the ass that hard.

Still, it answered a lot of questions. They wouldn’t have known how to revive me. That thought made me wonder about the kid, the inhuman. His face was still fresh in my mind, stark white, his body small and cold in my arms. I shook my head, placing my hands over my eyes. I was sick of that memory. It was the worst of the many flowing within the recesses of my mind, as bad as those were. But seeing the fresh red dot his white shirt… I didn’t think it would ever stop haunting me.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re not having, like, an episode or anything, right?” Shali’s high pitch cut my thoughts in two, slicing me back into reality. For once, I was grateful.

“I’m fine. Just a few unnerving thoughts.” Unnerving was right. He could be the love-child of my ex, my being alive might have killed an innocent child, and I probably wasn’t even in the right time period. Yeah, fine. Fine my karma-bitten ass.

“Well, I guess that’s good. What do you have for sleeping?”

“Have? What do you mean?”

“Firstly, a sleeping bag, or a tent, or a blanket, or something to sleep on or under. Second, meds. I need sleep aids.”

“Then you’re screwed. I have nothing, shelter or medication. Sorry.”

“Then how do you sleep?”

“Look, this is my first day out here, pardon me if I didn’t think to get shit for you while running.”

“What were you running from?”

“None of your business, fruitcake.”

“Oh, come on. Tell me.”

“No. You just want to know to satisfy your sick, twisted little mind.” I slumped to the ground, pulling my hat over my eyes. “Now, kindly shut up and let me sleep. Good night.”

He huffed loudly, shifting around. “I can’t promise anything. I get talky when I can’t sleep, and without meds—”

Bam. I hit him sharply over the head with my cane. “There. Night.”



• • • • • • • • • •



I awoke a few hours later, tilting my hat up to keep it from hindering my sight. Shali lay next to me, unconscious. I brushed some of the strands of hair that curled around the edges of his face away, examining the soft, pale skin, the familiar color of the hair.

“It’s probably just familiar because I’m associating it,” I murmured quietly. I was used to talking to myself, but the act didn’t seem as intelligent as it had before.

Shali started to stir then, so I backed off. It would be hard to explain why exactly I was staring at him while he slept. Well, while he was unconscious due to the bump on his head caused by my cane.

“Ugh, I feel like shit… my head…” He ran a hand through his hair, stopping and grimacing as his hand presumably graced the bump. “What the hell… oh god, you hit me! You hit me!” His voice was hilariously shrill with disbelief. I started to laugh, falling backwards.

“Yes, shitface, I hit you. You wouldn’t shut up, what could I do?” I roared with laughter, which made my words hard to understand. Shali punched me, so of course, I laughed harder.

“What’s so funny?” His voice was still high.

I let myself calm down before I spoke. “You… you’re so damn womanly. You hit like a five-year-old with leukemia.” He gave me a strange look, like no one’d ever made a cancer joke around him before.

“You’re weird,” he randomly remarked.

I swept the hat off of my head with a bow of grandeur. “I try.”

He shook his head, standing slowly. “Jesus, did you have to hit me so hard?” He rubbed his head, whining a little more. I sighed, standing up. “If we aren’t going to sleep, can we get a move on? I might kill you if we have to linger.”

I chuckled, standing as well. “You, kill me? Now that’s a laugh. Anyway, if you don’t kill me, the beasts certainly will. Maybe I can offer you up as a sacrifice instead of me…”

Instead of punching me and failing again, Shali head butted me in the stomach. It was much more effective than his sissy-punch. “That’s what you get!” he shouted triumphantly as I fell to the ground.

“Ugh… hit a cripple, why don’t you…” I groaned. I reached for my cane, but it was out of my reach, somewhere on the ground. Shali looked a little ashamed of himself, walking slowly closer.

“Are you alright?” he asked. He kneeled down, a hand on my chest. It was the perfect opportunity.

Very quickly, I grabbed his wrists, pulling him to the ground as I lifted myself from it to lay on top of him. “Hi!”

Shali’s cheeks began to turn pink. “Um, I usually wait until after the first date for things like this.” He managed to say it with a straight face.

I, however, rolled off of him, laughing like a madman. “Oh my god,” I cackled, “already, I’m rubbing off on you!”

Without missing a beat, he sat up and said, “Yeah, in more ways than one.”

I continued laughing as he stood up, kicking me in the side. “Whaddya want?” I wheezed between laughs.

“We should get moving,” he said. “Sitting around isn’t going to get us anywhere. And aren’t you still hungry?”

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I’d always believed that to be false, but as my stomach growled in response, I rethought that little sentiment.

“Uh… I guess.” I sat up, sighing. “You’re good at playing people.” Before he could thank me, I added, “That’s not a good thing.”

He pouted his lips, arms crossed. “Says you. I get what I want because of it, so I see it as fine.” He walked ahead of me, nose in the air again. I limped after, arm starting to hurt a little. Whatever. It was normal.

“Look,” I said, that somber tone woven back into my voice, “getting what you want is not always a good thing. It just means you’re spoiled, not that you deserve all of those things.”

Shali scoffed. “Yeah, this coming from the hobo who’s probably never worked a day in his life, sitting on his ass, fishing all day, never having a damn thing he wants. You have no clue what it’s like to live.”

Arms about a thin waist. Bright smile, cheery laughter.

Shadow. Flaming red. He hates me. Why does he hate me? “You’ve never lived for anyone but yourself, Fallon.”

A few tears fell from my eyes. “Fine. You can get what you want on your own.” I walked faster, knowing a bit of this part of the forest. I knew there was a clearing nearby, so I headed for it. “Just make sure you get away from me to do it.”

“Fallon, I didn’t mean—” He cut off, and I heard his footfall quicken behind me. I said get away, I thought, but you chase me. Everything points to you being his son. Everything.

I ran as best I could, ignoring the sting in my bad leg. I somehow managed to maneuver so that I couldn’t hear Shali behind me. Good. It gave me time to think.

I wasn’t looking where I was going, so of course I didn’t see the poorly trained bowman up in the trees, lurking. The arrow caught my arm, though he was obviously aiming for my heart. I grunted, feigning a fall, surreptitiously reaching for my bag. A few more men swarmed in, intent on mugging me, but I stood, nocking the arrows I’d retrieved and aiming them at their heads.

“Another move,” I growled, “and you won’t have to worry about Hell. I can assure you, I’ll do so much more than the Devil ever could.”

They turned pale, running off into the night. Only the first lingered, glaring at me with an ‘I’ll be back’ sort of look. I shot him before he ran, though. Another encounter wouldn’t do me any good. Still, I felt my knees give out, lacking the support of my cane. That, and my brain suddenly noticed the poison that had been on the arrow, and that it was running through my veins. I dragged myself over to the rock I saw skulking over near the rim of the clearing, leaning against it as I ripped my sleeve off. Taking it in my mouth, I snapped the arrow, hitting my head against the rock to distract myself from the pain. I replaced the sleeve with the arrow, as it was easier to bite down on than the cloth. Closing my eyes, I ripped the arrow out, pain blooming up my arm like paint blossoming in water. Painting with pain… morbid. I growled as it died down, spitting the arrow out.

“Yes, Fallon, put a poisoned arrow in your mouth, good job. Brilliant. Thankfully it was the end lodged in your muscle that had the poison on it. At least your sharp tongue will stay in your head while your arm falls off.” As I leaned back again, I noticed that my hat had dropped to the side, and my gloves were soaked with blood. I’d taken off my trenchcoat before, even though I didn’t remember doing so, so it was intact. Cool. I liked that coat. I coughed, my throat beginning to tingle, a feeling similar to that in my arm. Ooh, poison’s rising. Very fun. Dying. Also fun. This is going to hurt a lot. A lot. If only I were a prayin’ man, maybe I’d pray for the poison to be magically nullified. But I’m not. So I get to die. I had closed my eyes, waiting for the tingle to cover my whole body, when something sent more ants crawling over my cold skin.

“Fallon! You idiot—oh my god, hold on… There!” With that, something punctured my arm, right next to the painful arrow wound. I growled, sitting up, but was shoved back against the rock. “Stay still,” said the high voice, and though I would naturally assume that it was a woman’s, I knew it all too well.

“Shali, get the hell away from me. I already told you that.” My arm began to feel warm and cold at the same time, then cool and normal again. That feeling spread faster than the poison had, and my head let itself fall back slowly without my permission.

“Fallon, look, I don’t know what exactly I said, but I didn’t mean to make you that angry. Can we just get out of here?” He tried to pull me up with him, but I pushed him away, standing shakily, though on my own. That was good enough for me.

“You’re just yankin’ me around again, kid. No.” I picked my cane up, leaning heavily on it as I walked away. I wanted to let go. I wanted no one to know me, no one to give a damn about me. I was enough for myself. That was all I needed.

I hoped.