Joseph cracked open a fresh can of beer and sat on his rickety chair, thinking inwardly for the millionth time that he had to get it fixed. He took a long sip and sighed comfortably, his thoughts fluttering away to nothingness as his mind went still while the calmness of the early-morning city washed over him.
He had gone to sleep with a large smile on his face last night. Tapped into the main broadcast from the odyssey system, he had been able to see his nephew in all his glory… and that image, at the end, was forever burned into his mind.
He had had the good sense, for once, to think beforehand and connect an old DVD player to it that had recorded everything. His eyes kept darting to it, now, as he was tempted to spin it up and watch that scene all over again… but he stopped himself, knowing that it would look all the better when it was broadcasted on the channel.
He chuckled softly when he recalled how his age had melted away while watching all the events unfold in the odyssey. The best shows were always able to do such a thing. Those watching would always forget how old they were, and in some cases, even who they were, caught up in the excitement and the thrill so much that they would revert to the base instincts of mankind and just scream and shout to make their feelings known to the world that only consisted of what they were watching.
The entire shop had echoed with his worried shouts when he had watched Al's hand be hit by the attack from the pixie-haired women. He had cured her, forgetting that she was just a child, even cursing her master, in turn, for teaching her such a spell that was supposed to be forbidden for anyone with just a single Blessing.
His screams had been even louder when Al threw that shoe, and for a while after that, Joseph had even danced a merry jig, praising Al over and over again while tears of joy had leaked from his eyes.
He had thought repeatedly that the kid deserved it. He had always been such a hard-working, resilient little one, never bowing down to everything that life had thrown at him. Anyone even a tad bit weaker would have just given up, but Al always found the strength to get up and get going, no matter what lay in front of him.
He had even had one of the best nights of sleep in years. Everyone said that happiness was a drug that worked better than all others…and in truth, Joseph had experienced this, himself, for the first time.
The channel had been showing the odyssey at a set time each day. They had changed this, though, especially to advertise the finale.
The program was going to be long, so it was scheduled to start at 9 AM in the morning. Gordon had already planned the rest of his day out. Some pork was slow cooking in the back, and a 12 pack of beer was nearby, chilling in a cooler. His cigars had been restocked, and a cushion lay to his right in case he wanted some extra support for his ailing back.
Checking the time, he saw that it was a few seconds to 9. On the TV, a rerun of an interview with some jumped up hero was just ending, and with bated breath, Gordon waited for his nephew's meteoric rise to glory to begin.
The clock struck nine. The program on the channel ended. And then, as he stared with wide-open eyes… a children's show began to play.
The cartoon's tune floated out of the speakers of the TV, reaching his ears but not really being registered by his mind. A recap of the last episode began to play; it showed a villain being put in place by a group of children who were supposed to be heroes, and even though he knew that it was one of the most popular shows around the world, it made him so angry that he wanted to smash the screen in.
'What the fuck is this? What the fuck is going on? Did I get the time wrong? Or did I get the channel wrong?'
Mind filled with furious thoughts, he fumbled for the remote control at the same time that his eyes darted to the clock in a bid to answer both questions at once. Then, three things happen at the same time.
A polite knock sounded on the door. The weak leg of the chair gave out. And the air shimmered, as if suddenly charged with electricity, and all the gadgets in the room sprung to life, either vibrating or tweeting or chirping about as they hurried to accomplish their tasks even though they were all supposed to be decommissioned.
An acute ringing sound appeared in Gordon's ears, making him clasp his hands to them as it grew louder and louder. The TV's volume also grew with it, now filling the room with that stupid, irritating tune, and then, all of a sudden…the sound of glass breaking was heard, and everything fell silent.
Opening his eyes while ignoring the throbbing pain from his ass on which he had fallen, Gordon looked at the TV and saw that its screen had shattered. Blinking, he got to his feet, and as another knock sounded on the door, awareness entered his face.
The beer had spilled on him, and the cigar had burned a hole through his loose shirt. Grimacing due to his condition but shaking his head as nothing could be done about it now, he walked to the door with the gait of a wolf wearily stalking a predator.
He knew who was waiting outside. In the few seconds that he had spent getting to the door, he had already figured out everything that had happened.
In the entire world, there were probably only a handful who could face the one on the other side of the thin wooden membrane in front of him with equanimity. A few years ago, he could have done it without a single worry on his mind. But now…his aching joints and the Blessing that had still not recovered after its usage the other day made a faint twinge of worry seep into his mind, but he stifled it, murdering it and burying it in a grave as it would lead him to death if he let it live.
Throwing open the door in one go, Jospeh came face-to-face with the Dragon.
He was not a very tall man, but his presence made it so that he seemed a giant no matter where he was. He had extremely broad shoulders, long, silky black hair that reached the small of his back that had been sweptback…and his namesake on his shoulder, asleep, but breathing little puffs of fire every time it snored.
Wearing a long, golden coat that reached his knees, he had his hands behind his back and a smile on his face.
Joseph's eyes were rooted on the little thing on his shoulder. He had only heard rumors, before…but clearly, they were true.
This man belonged to a different stratum of society that was way, way beyond even the government. He had been a part of it, once, and at the moment, for the first time, he regretted the fact that he had had to step down.
The thing had four limbs, and golden scales that glowed in the sunlight. Its tail ended at a spike, and its legs were longer than its hands.
He had seen a few specimens, before, but they had all had some or the other defect. However, the one on the Dragon's shoulder was perfect in every way. It even had an aura to it that hinted at the mountain it would one day grow to be, and with a gulp, he turned to the man who had gained its acceptance.
"I received your message. I'm here to give you one of my own."
His words were an avalanche, his gaze a storm one could only stare at, horrified but bewitched at the same time. His eyes were somehow the same golden shade as his clothes and the scales of his pet, and as Gordon looked into them, he found it hard to stay upright.
"Good. You're still strong. If you wish to fight, I'm always ready. But if what I suspect is true… then all you can do is give warnings. I'm just here to tell you to stay out of it. The world no longer belongs to your generation. It is ours, now, and we will do what we wish. Stop us if you can…or stay holed up here, like the relics that you are. I grew up hearing secret tales of the man who could bring down even God with his bullets, the master of all gun-type armaments, the invincible gunslinger, Joseph Arstan. Its disappointing to see him in the flesh��but time is really the ultimate enemy, isn't it? Oh, well. Take care, old man. And if I need to come down here once more…this entire street will be leveled. Goodbye."
Thunder struck down from the clear sky. It turned golden when it reached the man, and a moment later, he was gone.
Gordon stood there for a long time. When he finally managed to duck back inside, he had to support himself against the wall.
He slid down it, sweat running down in rivulets on his face. A roaring sound seemed to fill his mind, and his heart was beating as if it wasn't sure it would have a chance to do so for much longer.
They were all the signs of a high-level spell. By the time they disappeared, Gordon felt so drained that he thought he might faint.
"You idiot. Do you even know who his fa-"
He stopped himself and stared around furtively, as if there could be anyone who might hear his low mutter. Stopping what he was going to say, anyway, and even deleting the thought from his mind, he got up and walked inside.
He collapsed once more in front of the TV. On all fours, he scrambled to the DVD player and finally relaxed after seeing that the discs that had recorded the odyssey were still present.
Clutching it carefully, he muttered to himself once again, and as he looked around the room that was now silent, his eyes were those of a lion that was old…but still wanted to roar.
"Old relics? Let's see what the others say about it. Time to gather the gang."