Fan Fiction ❯ Vessel of the gods ❯ Sentimental Passenger ( Chapter 2 )

1st Milestone

31st of Tishri

Yadrutas

 

 

Sentimental Passenger

0848 HOURS

 

 

The man dressed in white long-sleeved shirt and black slacks stood by the enormous glass windows. He stared at the showcase of light outside. The sun played its light upon everything; on the marvelous blue sky, on the flawlessly paved runway, on the remarkably powerful aircrafts and even on the man's hair. His short fine light-blue hair reflected the sunlight perfectly, illuminating his head. He smiled; his eyes twinkled like tiny rubies. He was completely entranced by the sheer beauty of nature. He sighed. I'm glad to be back.

 

He glanced down at his sterling wrist watch on his right hand and read the time. His flight arrived ten minutes early. He had no other choice but to wait. He reached down on his right side, took his black coat and slung it on his arm, after that he lifted an electric blue duffel bag and walked away from the immense windows by the seating area.

 

He made his way to the escalator, his pace though was slow. He gazed around and marveled at the airport's captivating design. The ceiling was incredibly high and multiple three-dimensional trusses with ball joints supported the ceiling and all the white translucent glass lamps. Medieval pillars and column lined the walls. Both real and artificial greenery filled the space. Virescent spotlights added to the whole ambience. This contemporary airport atrium transformed into a lost ancient civilization. This was most certainly an architect's masterpiece and an engineer's nightmare.

 

Then a scene flashed in his head. It took place here two years ago in this very same airport where he had last seen her. The airport was dull and lifeless at that time.

 

She was so happy to finally get a vacation. She kept on boasting about how she had been working so hard that she deserved the break. She wouldn't stop her gibberish even if her plane was scheduled to depart minutes away.

 

To her shock, he had kissed her cheek and said, “Take care of yourself.”

 

She had suddenly burst into tears. Her dark orbs flooded with angst. “Farewell.” She had grabbed her bag and left for Illura.

 

He had watched her leave unknowing that it was the last time he would see her.

 

He shut his eyes. He trembled as sadness and anger defeated him. Alexis. His grip on his bag tightened as he stepped on the escalator going downwards. He still couldn't accept the manner of her death. She was just here… with me. He struggled to hold back the tears. Two years have passed but he still didn't believe his childhood friend and partner died in a plane crash the next day he saw her leave. The plane never made it to Illura for it dove nose down into the sea. There were no survivors and most of the bodies were never found including hers. The cause was ruled out as operational error and just like that his life was changed forever.

 

Too pre-occupied with his own thoughts, he failed to notice that he was already by the last step of the escalator so his shoe got momentarily jammed. He pulled his foot loose only to trip. Thankfully, someone caught him before he fell down. Shoot. “I apologize.” He couldn't look up at his savior as he brushed imaginary dust off his shirt. His cheeks were flushed for so many people witnessed his clumsiness at the foot of the escalator.

 

His coat slid from his hand and his duffel bag landed heavily on the floor. His red eyes shot open. A sudden and most powerful burning sensation scorched his forehead as though it was enflamed. He cowered, grabbing the right side of his forehead, the source of his pain. He felt the intense heat hurting even his palm as he touched it. He cried out in pain. He heard indistinct speech and a pair of strong yet shaking hands supported his back. The second scream came as he swung his head back, revealing the sign formerly covered by his long fine bangs. A sign of three stems radiating outwards but converging at a single point, fulgurated with red flames. That terrified shriek was from a woman and the pair of sturdy hands left him vulnerable. His legs gave way when the agony consumed his very being. He fell and hit his head on the marble floor. Afterward, a sea of brown emerged before him. He found himself gazing at long lustrous brown locks swept upwards. An empowering breeze awakened his senses. The brown tresses dissolved into thin air and with it was the agony.

 

 

“Travis…” a voice called softly. “Travis.” It called again. He recognized that female voice.

 

“TRAVIS YORK!” a male voice yelled out and yanked him back to consciousness.

 

He frowned and opened his eyes. He became aware of the thin lumpy mattress beneath him, the overly soft pillow under his head and the white fluorescent light rendering him blind for a few seconds.

 

“Wake up you.” the lady spoke with excitement.

 

He saw two people leaning by his right side. One was a woman of big bright brown orbs and thick curly dark hair. She wore a yellow turtleneck and was closer to his face. The other was a man of prominent blond brows and hair. He was clothed in an oversized shabby gray polo.

 

“Get up, York.” He bellowed his black eyes happy.

 

The woman giggled.

 

“Margo and Xander Acres.” said Travis.

 

“Glad to hear that you don't have amnesia.” Xander clapped his hand once.

 

“Where am I?”

 

“Hospital Wing of the airport… you actually made quite a stir.” Margo settled on the chair beside Travis' bed.

 

“Feel better?” Xander asked sitting on the edge of the bed near Travis' feet.

 

Travis sat up and made Xander jump to his feet.

 

“Perhaps you should rest first.” Xander's tone turned serious.

 

“It's not like I broke anything.” Travis touched his head. It was hurting but it was nothing compared to that terrible pain. He shuddered.

 

“The doctor said you fainted out of fatigue and the heat.” explained Margo.

 

Fatigue and heat? I don't think so. Whatever it is that happened a while ago, it wasn't normal. Travis closed his eyes, seeking refuge in the darkness.

 

“We are having pretty weird weather. I mean days of hard rain last summer and now days of searing heat this autumn…” Xander mentioned and gazed out the window.

 

Travis grinned and opened his eyes. Somehow Xander always knew the exact things to say to make him feel better. Sure, Xander was often eccentric and child-like but he carried with him an air of hope and goodness.

 

“People were freaked about you though. They said your forehead was beaming with red light.” Margo uttered the words that forced alarm into Travis.

 

The pain was real and so was the red light. “I don't know what happened…”

 

Margo's big brown eyes stared at him, boring through his soul as though seeking for a definite answer.

 

Travis saw her characteristic tenacity and felt the superiority that surrounded her. The fierce look on her face reminded him why he disliked Margo when they first met. She was intentionally intimidating.

 

She took a deep breath and her eyes softened with concern. “I'm only worried about you, Travis. We are goddamn detectives after all. If we can't solve this mystery then no one can.” A haughty smirk materialized on her face.

“I'm fine and I'm not coming down with anything. I'm as healthy as can be.” Travis boasted and got out of bed. He stretched his arms in the air. “I'm as good as new.”

 

“Travis, did you get a tattoo or something?” Xander pointed out vigorously.

 

“Huh?”

 

Xander got Margo's pocket mirror and handed it to Travis. “I think your birthmark is emphasized like you had it colored in…”

 

He looked at his reflection on the small round mirror. He saw a hint of black beneath his long bangs. Travis swiped them away and gaped at a black symbol that could not have been his birthmark. He was dumbstruck. He was born with an irregular mark on the rightmost part of his forehead. It was slightly darker than his complexion then but now the blob of a birthmark was replaced by a black and vivid figure. Travis felt a shiver run down his spine. What the hell is this? I've seen this before.

 

“A triskele, a sign widely used by several cults.” She spoke as if she read his mind. She looked at him with wicked interest.

 

“In an ancient tribe, the triskele is the signet of the gods. The one who bears it has inherited the ancient power of old gods.” Xander said nonchalantly.

 

Margo was smiling at him. Clearly, she didn't expect him to know this much. He never ceases to amaze her. This was one of the reasons why she got attracted to him.

 

Travis blinked. What the fuck is this? He gawked at the mysterious seal on his forehead, wishing it would just disappear.

 

 

A soothing breeze greeted Travis as he got out of the hospital wing through the double doors. Now, he wore his black trench coat and his hair concealed the sign completely. He paused to savor the wind but he was reminded of the breeze he felt as the excruciating trauma left him.

 

The three friends agreed to do research about this fatal occurrence once they get the time. They were a busy bunch of detectives but they all swore to get to the bottom of this mystery.

 

Margo and Xander stood right behind Travis. She gave him a meaningful glance and Xander nodded. They approached Travis together.

 

“Why don't we grab a bite before we report back?” Margo suggested

 

“I'll get the car.” Xander sprinted with Travis duffel bag in hand.

 

“Wait.” Travis began, his back facing them. “I have something important to do. You go without me.”

 

“Important? You mean Alexis?” she clarified.

 

Travis turned around but avoided her eyes. “Yes.”

 

“Travis, you're barely recovered. You must not put yourself through this today. Save your sentiments for another day. The dead can wait.”

 

Travis scowled at Xander with murderous fury. “How dare you!” he grabbed at Xander's collar. “How dare you say that!” he screamed. Travis height advantage over Xander was suddenly emphasized. He towered over Xander.

 

Xander received his outburst with a courageous stare. He didn't waver even as Travis tightened his grip on his shoulder.

 

Margo bit her lip. She knew this could happen. She stood her ground beside her husband and watched the scene unfold.

 

“Say something!” Travis wrath was inexhaustible. His red eyes bore the piercing glint of unmistakable brutality as he shook Xander violently.

 

Xander didn't say a word only his unyielding unafraid dark eyes answered Travis' exasperated demands. It could be said that what Xander lacked in height, he made up in valor. Not once did he falter as Travis continued his enraged threats.

 

Travis found no explanation in Xander's silence. “Fine!” he pushed Xander away and hurried to leave. He had never been this angry to Xander before but his friend was unreasonable. How can he say those things?

 

“It has been two years Travis…” the sheer sound of Xander's hoarse voice caused Travis to stop short. “Two years and you still haven't moved on. Why the hell are you so caught up with her?”

 

Travis gritted his teeth. He didn't know the answer and he didn't want to discuss it either. “I don't need your sympathy, Xander. Just lay off!” he wanted Xander to get off his case.

 

“I can't bear to see you like this…” This plea broke through Travis' defenses. It annihilated every bit of anger in him.

 

Travis turned around and saw Margo holding onto Xander. She was glaring at him while Xander gave him an imploring stare.

 

Travis walked towards the pair and placed a hand on Xander's shoulder. “I'm sorry. I know I have issues but I don't know any other way to handle them. Please let me go. I can take care of myself. I will meet you in front of the precinct before 1 pm.” His voice so mellowed down that not a trace of his previous rage could be heard.

 

The two men looked each other in the eye, a soundless conversation that needed no words but only understanding.

 

Xander sighed and then nodded. “How will you manage?”

 

“My magnetic card hasn't expired yet. I'll see you later.” Travis glimpsed approval on Xander's face and was relieved. He shifted to Margo.

 

She wasn't angry any longer but she wasn't glad either. “Later.” She deadpanned with matching poker face.

 

With such a remark, Travis turned around, walked off and never considered to second glance. He set his mind on his mission of bereavement.

 

 

The train station was three blocks away from the airport. He had a long way to go but the distance didn't discourage him. He watched the busy streets as he made his way. The first two blocks were pure frenzy. Travis was left speechless by the sheer activity animating the blocks. He had forgotten that this was now an open shopping mall. The road was decorated with intricate tiles and slabs. Trees, big and small, were planted strategically to give ample shade. Various stands sprouted everywhere. Shops and restaurants stood side by side as people from all walks of life went in and out of them. The sights, sounds and smells filled his senses.

 

He watched the children as they ran about tugging their colorful balloons, the lovers as they twirled around in roller blades on the skating rink, the family as they ate contently in an expensive restaurant and the teenage boys as they huddled by a hobby store. What a happy place… He trod on smiling. She would have loved this too. He bowed his head and hastened his steps.

 

Placidness named the third block. The whole block was quiet and calm, the exact opposite of its neighbors. This was a residential district and judging from the huge houses and spacious driveways, it was a rich man's turf. He glanced around and found some gates and barriers having hideous gargoyle-like faces as decors. It sure warded off unwelcome visitors, including Travis who now wanted nothing more than to get to the terminal. The silence was beginning to unnerve him.

 

He could already see the purple structure that was the station. The terminal itself is actually below ground so from his point of view, it only looked like a bungalow. Travis faced right and saw another mammoth building with the country's flag flying freely on top of a pole. It was a school obviously and with the numerous top-of-the-line vehicles parked in its vicinity, an event must be on-going inside.

 

Travis forehead abruptly hurt. He knew it was the triskele. He tried all his might to pay no attention to the stinging ache however he had to stop in front of the school to recover. The high steel gate opened and out came a teenager in a light blue sweater.

 

Travis walked on and handled the ache well as the boy scurried pass him. There was something about this boy that made Travis crane his head to look at him. He was intrigued so he observed the lad.

 

The young man couldn't have been 18 years of age. His hair was long and wavy much like the locks Travis saw in his moment of agony but this boy's coloring was the ideal brown unlike the dark brown hue he beheld before. He also seemed to be nurturing a distinct pain near his neck for he was holding onto it, crumpling his sweater. Furthermore, he looked familiar. Travis had seen him before but couldn't figure where.

 

The most disturbing aspect of this boy was the look on his face. His chocolate eyes wandered aimlessly and his lips were curled in a straight line. Confusion and panic mingled on his gentle face.

 

Travis literally followed him until the boy halted at the front of the train station entrance. The identity of this boy was just at the tip of his tongue.

 

Realization dawned at Travis and his reddish eyes widened with delight. Lucas Easton, heir to the Easton Corporation. He gasped merrily, satisfied that his memory was still sharp.

 

Easton boy stood there in stillness with eyes closed. He appeared to be focusing or most likely trying to calm his paranoia.

 

Travis snickered. What a weird brat. He went down the flight of stairs leaving the boy. His interest in him was quenched so there was no point in lingering. He found long box office lines for both gender classified entrances. He pushed his way through the crowd towards the side entrance. He showed his shiny silver badge to the guard before he could say a word. The guard, in turn allowed Travis to pass without added delay.

 

Travis slipped the magnetic card into the slot and got it before proceeding to the waiting area. The stinging pain became tremendous as he walked closer the gray train. Not again. When he stepped inside, his eyes darted for the empty seat by his right. The agony made him weak that he practically fell on his seat. No…

 

A loud thump, a pained cry and a sincere apology was heard. Travis blinked. His mark no longer stung. He sighed and gazed outside. The train was moving so fast that the buildings were mere smudges of color. Get a grip, Travis. Get a grip. He psyched himself.

 

He straightened out on his seat and resorted to studying his surrounding. He was seated right smack in the middle of a four-seater with four other people. He could hardly move. When he attempted to budge, the hooligan to his left grunted loudly and the bossy lady to his right glared at him. He looked up to meet the stare of Easton boy who was holding onto the stainless pole nearest to Travis.

 

Lucas Easton faked a cough and averted his eyes. His cheeks turned pink. He didn't expect that Travis would catch him staring.

 

Travis shook his head. Brat. He looked straight ahead and saw a chubby old woman in deep slumber. She snorted loud enough to be heard by everybody in the train then her head fell on the shoulder of the black haired man beside her. This man quickly pushed her head off him while still holding the newspaper. Travis smelled panic in that guy. He is hiding something.

 

He scrutinized every detail of that man. Travis only saw the top of his dark mop of hair as the paper permitted. He wasn't turning the page of his newspaper either. The back of his left hand plastered to the wall. He wore brown leather jacket, plain blue t-shirt, faded pair of jeans and black suede shoes. In addition, he was tapping his right foot to some strange beat that only he heard.

 

Travis gave him a once over and found a glint of light reflecting by his waist but he wore no belt. Goodness. He reached for his 42 caliber revolver on his gun sling. How did he get in here? He felt as though he was being thrown in different directions. Weapons were not allowed inside this community transport and he was sure this man was not a public servant. His mind was racing. He had to think fast. Many lives were at stake.

 

The armed man clenched his left hand giving Travis a glimpse of those elusive white dragon eyes.

 

Travis' confusion converted into dire rage. He unfastened his trench coat. Drake Devonhart, the most dangerous man in the state.

 

 

Then the lights went out. The train came to a swift halt. Everyone inside was whining and making noise but Travis only heard the uproar in his body. The tumult of wrath was flowing from his heart, coursing through his veins and reaching the very depths of his soul. He hated Drake and would have nothing less than his head.

 

He got his revolver, stood up and aimed straight at Drake's cranium. The people beside him were startled by his sudden covetous movement. The hooligan was driven to his knees as dread splayed on his face. The bossy lady was glued to her seat and she began to pray feverishly with a pink rosary in hand.

 

“Drake Devonhart! To whom do we owe the pleasure of being graced by your presence?” Travis voice was thick with hostility.

 

The newspaper hiding Drake's countenance fell on the floor as people around them grew in alarm.

 

Fierce red eyes met mocking gold eyes.

 

“Finally, inspector. Here I thought you would not notice?” Drake remained seated. His left hand had a gun pointing directly at the old lady's throat while his right hand reached for his other weapon.

 

Lucas gasped as he backed away with the rest of the passengers. This can't be happening to me. Cold sweat broke through his forehead.

 

“Put the six-shooter down, Travis.” Drake hissed. “You know very well what I am capable off.” He burrowed his gun into the old lady's gullet. She was certainly the heaviest sleeper in the entire galaxy if she goes through this ordeal without waking up.

 

Travis didn't move. He wanted to settle the score with Drake finally but there was no way he would place people's at risk. He was angry but he wasn't insane. He slowly bent down and placed his revolver on the floor.

 

“Good. Put your hands where I can see them. Move back, York.”

 

Travis obeyed and bumped into the petrified Lucas. “Everything will be fine.” He murmured. He still had an automatic in his right waist sling but timing was crucial in this deadly game.

 

Drake refused to take his eyes off him even as he rose to his feet and kicked Travis' gun into the shadows under the seats. “Today just isn't your day, York. It's mine.” He bawled proudly.

 

Immediately after, a massive blade sliced through the roof and hardly missed Travis. Strands of his blue hair were slashed as he dodged the assault.