Who I Am *HF* by Salvanza
Who I Am *HF*
Written by Salvanza.
His mocha coloured skin glistened with a translucent fluid that began secreting from his exasperated pours. Beads of sweat began cascading down his high cheekbones, before finally dripping onto the floor. Summoning a flair of solar energy he had stored within his muscular body, Salvanza began focusing the power into a solid beam of energy, firing it at an approaching droid, piercing a penetrating hole directly through the cranium of the robot. The tingling sensation of power surging through his body made him almost hum with vitality. Combining his agile fighting techniques with his newly found mutant ability to absorb and rechannel solar energy as plasma blasts and also store this energy is his body, increasing his strength, speed and stamina, he effectively utilised the oncoming threat of the onslaught of androids that had been attacking him. Finally, with a swift, precise kick to the last android’s motherboard, which short-circuited the robot sending it crashing to the ground, the danger simulation was complete.
The door leading into the Danger Room suddenly opened, revealing the short stature of the Purple King, Steven Booth, dressed in an exquisite black Armani business suit. The fluorescent lights made his white hair almost glow and his icy blue eyes sparkle to life behind his spectacles. In his right hand was his ever-present ruby tipped cane. Salvanza noticed he seemed to be applying a little too much weight onto the walking aide.
“That was formidable,” Steven said in his scratchy, broad English voice, “it’s so refine to see a young person in such control of his powers. You remind me of a boy I used to teach back in England about 120 years ago. He was the son of Lady and Lord Wentington, a lovely couple. Charles, their son, was born with the uncanny ability to absorb sound and turn it into little blasts of power. But the problem was, any sound at all people made, he absorbed it and made it explode.”
Salvanza scooped up a towel from the bench and dried his sweat-covered face. “That must have sucked for him.”
Steven nodded, trying to restrain a laugh. How he missed the times he could be so care free, how unrestrained youthfulness was. “Indeed it did. But, he managed to master his powers, and in the end he had such control over them it was incredible. Even though this was over a century ago, he still is an example to me, a reminder that everything, no matter how big or how small, can he overcome. Anyway, I am sure you have more pressing business to attend to then listen to me.”
Salvanza smiled. “I’m taking Rebecca to the beach.”
Steven narrowed his eyes at the Purple Hellion, pretending to look at him in great detail. “I’m telling you,” he said in a strong, confidant masculine voice, “you’d better have my great great great great great niece home safe and sound, and if you even think about…” he trailed off before smiling warmly at Salvanza. “Enjoy yourselves.” With that the Purple King teleported out of gymnasium.
“Dear me Rebecca, this will never do,” Elle Freebush said in a very mysterious, mystique voice, looking analytically at Scarlett Mistress, “I mean Salvanza is a total and utter creep.”
“Oh shut up, you glorified slut,” Sabrina Brachode, known to the Purple Court as their feistiest Hellion, Morte said in a twisted, masticated voice, “you really do annoy me. You think you are so much better than everyone else.” With that she hurled her Macbeth textbook on the glass coffee table of the student lounge and marched out of the room, holding her head high in the sky.
“She is one seriously twisted bitch,” Rebecca Booth said as she applied a clear gloss to her thick lips, looking carefully at her face in the mirror.
“I hear that she is getting therapy sessions from the old geezer,” Storm hissed, as she continued filing her nails.
“Don’t call my uncle the old dude,” Scarlett Mistress said as she applied a light dusting of blusher to her cheeks.
“Anyway, what time is Salvanza picking you up for your date?” Storm asked without raising her head.
Scarlett Mistress magically levitated a pillow cushion from one of the elaborately draped red couches, hitting her fellow Hellion in the head with it. “For your information, Miss Freebush, it is not a date. It’s just two friends going for a nice day out. And secondly, he’s collecting me at three.”
Storm sighed. “I wish I could find a decent date. But none of the ‘men’ here would even begin to fit my standards. I hear, however, that Spark was supposed to be one mega stud.”
Scarlett Mistress merely rolled her eyes. “Morte’s right, you really are a slut,” she joked, “I’ll do you a deal. Tonight, me, you, Lark, Salvanza, Shadow and Masquerade, we’ll head into town. Perhaps we can find suitable prey for you, your Majesty.”
Storm rubbed her hands with joy. “Oooo, until tonight.” With that she levitated into the air in a bed of clouds, and wafted out of the room.
Scooping the disregarded pillow from the floor, Scarlett suddenly felt someone else’s presence behind her. Then two steely cold hands grabbed her forearms.
A scream bellowed through her lips as her magical force field aroused itself, firing a powerful blast of neuron disruptive energy at her attacker. Accumulating two bolts of mystical bolts in her fists she turned to her attacker.
“SALVANZA YOU IDIOT!” she screamed as she rushed over to the Hellion, who lay in a heap besides the fireplace, reeling in pain, “why did you do that for?”
Despite the obvious pain he was in, Salvanza’s charm never left his words. “It adds a little suspense to my grand entrance.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes and dragged him to his feet. “Well Shakespeare, grab my bag and we can go already!”
Steven threw his fountain pen onto a pile of papers from his tenth grade biology class. Something didn’t seem right, and he couldn’t concentrate. He pushed the large, expensive antique desk chair backwards and jumped off, telekinetically levitating to the far side of his large Inner Circle office. His eyes wandered around the large assortments of liquor bottles that lay in the exquisitely designed cabinet. Finally he selected a bottle and phased it through the glass panel. Taking a crystal tumbler in one hand he poured the aged malt whiskey into the glass and immediately began to sip it. The swirling brown liquid still didn’t settle the King’s overactive nerves. Hmm, looks like I might have to pay a visit to the Astral plane he said, as his telepathic aura roared to life.
The salty sea breeze drifted across the faces of the two Hellions as they made their way across the beach, laughing and joking. Peaceful turquoise waters lapped against the immaculate shores of the Purple Hellfire Club’s private beach. Salvanza smiled. Today was going to be a perfect day. Suddenly, he felt a solid, stinging pain in his head, making him grab his temples in protest. He collapsed to his knees and gave out a terrible squeaking sound, before he fell into unconsciousness.
Steven glanced around the vast Astral plane, staring at the strands and waves of pure psionic energy that drifted through this plane. His own psychic image began to wander, trying to find what was wrong. Something was trying to invade either his own mind, or the minds of those he stared a link with. He knew no telepath on earth would even dream of trying to attack his mind, so the problem must be with one of his students. Chastity’s mind was a little unsettled, but nothing unusual. Her brother, Draco’s mind was as mixed up and violent as ever. He immediately reached out for Spark’s, yet he found no abnormalities in the boy’s thought pattern. The only thing concerning the former Red Hellion was the frustration of not being able to find his sister. Steven glanced at Scarlett Mistress’ mind, Storm’s, Masquerade’s… yet none of them seemed to be in discomfort. Abruptly, a powerful bolt of psi energy struck his image directly in the back, making him loose his footing. Summoning his psychic armour, he rose back to see who was attacking him. To his disbelief, a man, about eight foot seven and extremely broad shouldered was looking directly at him. Two demonic horns twisted from his skull, taking the focus away from his blood red eyes. Around his mouth was a snowy white beard with trailed onto the floor. Steven also spotted a tail peeping through the heavy, expensive looking purple robes the man wore. In his right hand was a large, powerful sword, encrusted with different jewels, ancient, alien hieroglyphics running around the hilt of the mighty weapon.
Steven instantaneously morphed his astral image into a man of the same stature, coated in an impenetrable coat of armour, a double-headed axe in his right hand. “Who are you and why do you dare challenge the greatest mind on Earth?” Steven shouted, his eyes glowing purple with psionic energy.
The man merely laughed a full heartily laugh. “My name is Zenith, the ruler of Zionaide. I have come on behalf of my people to reclaim the prize with we have desired for so long. The earthly being you call Salvanza.”
Steven stared at him with an unimpressed expression. “Really,” he mocked, “Well, Salvanza doesn’t want to speak with you. But I’m the next best thing. I’ll ‘talk’ to you if you like.” The Purple King’s axe began to smoulder with golden energy.
“I must apologise, Professor Booth,” Zenith continued, lifting his sword into the air, “you are a good and wise man. But you cannot stand in our way. My people will not allow it.” The man thrust the sword in the King’s direction.
Steven rolled sideways, avoiding the blade of the sword. He cartwheeled across the room, flipping himself into the air, over Zenith’s head, landing a crouched position on the floor. Taking his axe, then threw it into Zenith’s legs, sending the beast crashing to the floor with a powerful blow. Steven immediately rose to his feet, and placed the hilt of the axe precariously close to Zenith’s neck. “Now let’s stop this foolishness.”
Behind him a bulky oak door, covered in the psi imprint of Salvanza appeared. Zenith materialised Steven’s axe and propelled himself off the floor, knocking Steven backwards a few steps. Then he fired another blast at the King, knocking him further across the ground. “You cannot interfere,” Zenith said as he opened Salvanza’s door, then walked through.
The Purple King rubbed his head and glared wi5th a stony face at the demon-like thing. “But I’m the Purple King,” he said as he followed Zenith into Salvanza’s mind, “it’s my job to interrupt.”
The red Lotus whizzed around the roads with unmatched speed, filtering through the littered bustles of traffic. Rebecca stared ahead, occasionally looking at Salvanza. Something bad must be happening. Even though she was a marginally weak telepath, she could feel the psychic conflict within the young Hellion. She knew she had to find the Purple King. Fast.
“Are you always this relentless?” Zenith said as he span around to see the Purple King enter Salvanza’s mind behind him. Once again his heavy sword flared to life with crimson energy. Steven laughed, firing a powerful psi-bolt at his attacker, sending him crashing to the ground. The Purple King cursed himself slightly. He had no idea what this man wanted, but he knew that he had to keep the conflict minimal, so he didn’t damage Salvanza.
“Listen here,” Steven said, “I demand you remove yourself from this mind immediately. Your presence is not required.”
Zenith laughed then pulled out a small, silver device, hurling at the Purple King. Instantaneously, Steven could feel himself being dragged from the astral plane, back into the normal realm. “Like I said, don’t dabble in big boy’s games,” Zenith laughed, before Steven finally vanished from sight.
“Hey what’s going on?” Epyon said as he span around on his swivel chair, staring at Scarlett Mistress who had just burst into the infirmary. His face turned to concern as he saw Salvanza slumped over her shoulder.
“I don’t know,” Rebecca, said, panic seizing her speech, “we were fine then he just kinda keeled over. I am not sure, but I think I can sense another presence in his mind. We need to find RKB NOW!”
The Purple Knight nodded, placing Salvanza onto one of the hospital beds, strapping him to the army of machines, which lay nearby. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, “you find the King.”
Rebecca acknowledged this and headed for the door, before it swung open. The very exasperated face of the Purple Queen met hers, her usually immaculately combed hair now in a frenzy. In her hands she carried the motionless body of the Purple King.
“I went in to give him my report and he was slumped on the floor. I think he’s suffering from something psionically based as a very large amount of psi energy is radiating from him, even more than usual.”
“How odd,” Epyon said, taking the King and placing him besides Salvanza, “Salvanza is suffering from the same condition.”
Waves of amethyst mist twisted and crept up the young man’s leg, circulating around the strong frame. In front of Salvanza was what seemed like a garden; only the plants were all of unusual, zany colours. But most of them were wilting, withering or already dead. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a stone balcony. Sat on the bench that ran around the railings was what seemed to be a demon.
His first reaction was to run, to get away. But something told him he could trust the person. Putting one unsteady foot in front of the other, he made his way towards the shrouded figure. He stopped about six foot away from the thing. All the features of the creature were now showing.
“Where am I? And who are you?” Salvanza said, trying to sound as confidant and brave as he could. Underneath his exterior, the Purple Hellion was quivering with fear.
“Greetings Prince Azri,” Zenith said as he bowed down on one knee, “This is the confinement of your mortal mind. But never fear, I have come to take you home.”
Salvanza stared at him, a look of sarcasm, disbelief and disgust spread evenly across his face. “Okay RKB, come out. Joke’s over.”
Zenith’s face turned into a more twisted, severe portrait. “Don’t mock me, child, for I have power far beyond that of your worthless earth dwelling infidels.” Zenith stroked his beard. Suddenly, it seemed he had remembered something extremely important as his facial features once again metamorphed. “Of course, you are still Salvanza. Hmm, looks like I’d better separate the two of you.”
The young Hellion raised an eyebrow. This guy must be nuts! “Excuse me, but there’s only one of us here. See.” He pointed to himself.
Zenith’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching shut. With a slight twist of his hand, purple dust began to fall from him. It drifted onto Salvanza then as soon as it coated him, a powerful brilliant light shone. When the mist disappeared stood next to the Purple Hellion was…. himself. Stood right besides him was a replica of his body, only the clone’s clothing was more prestigious and a crown made of gold and decked with the finest jewels perched around his head. It rubbed its eyes and looked at Zenith with a healthy smile.
“Lord Zenith, it has been too long,” the replica said as it immediately hugged the demonic looking beast. Salvanza was taken back, and stared in disbelief.
The giant beast broke the hug and averted his attention to Salvanza. “Hmm, my boy, I think we owe you some answers.” Salvanza chuckled with a slight note of hysteria.
“Ya think?”
“My head hurts,” Steven, said as he awoke from the hospital bed. He immediately remembered the previous encounter and shot from the bed. As he headed for the door he noticed the Purple Queen, Knight and Scarlett Mistress gathered around another bed. All eyes made their way to the king.
“Thank goodness you are alright,” Rebecca said, “but something is wrong with Salvanza.”
Steven nodded. “Earlier today, after his training session, I couldn’t shed the feeling that something was wrong. So I went and scanned the astral plane. I saw Salvanza’s ‘sphere’ was trying to be invaded. That’s when I came face to face with this hideous creature called Zenith. He seemed to want to attack Salvanza and I almost defeated him until he cast and unknown telepathic perception upon me. But I do know, from my brief encounter, that he is not from this earth. And from the slight scan of Salvanza I have just done, I am concerned. I can ‘see’ him telepathically, I know he is there, but I just can’t get a proper grasp of him.”
The Purple King walked over to Salvanza and placed the tips of his index fingers on either side of the young Hellion’s forehead. “It seems I may need a more thorough scan.”
Zenith sat on the stone balcony and invited Salvanza to join him. The other Salvanza waited nearby, but out of sight. “Firstly, I’d like to apologise for invading your mind, but it was all in good faith. For you see, you are the saviour of my homeworld. Well, not you but him.” Zenith pointed towards the other man who was out of sight.
He then looked at Salvanza, who looked less than impressed. “Let me tell you a story,” Zenith said.
“It is no use Majesty,” Antrope said, his elfin features twisted in a convulsion of panic, “the Gentrifies have already seized half of Salvanza. All our plantinuminum has been exasperated. And as for our army, it dwindles every day. There is no hope for us. Our ancient monasteries and temples have all been raped, and whole villages have been burned to the ground. It is only a matter of time before the palace falls to your brother, and your title is taken from you.”
King Twindler stared wide-eyed at his military advisor, digging his fingernails into the elaborate throne on which he sat. As he peered out of the window, he could see the devastation that had befallen his proud world. The once mighty land of Salvanza that he had ruled for so long was now an ashen wasteland, a barbaric blood bath. “Thank you for your report, Antrope. I think it is time to plan a mass exodus. But first I must consult my most trusted advisor.”
Antrope nodded. “I shall fetch him at once.” With that the old elf hurried out of the room, his tightly fitting uniform waddling with him as he did. Moments later he resurfaced, with a man walking behind him.
“Hard times have fallen on Salvanza,” Zenith said as he leaned against his staff, stroking his snowy white beard, “and now, my King, I think matters have gone too far. Your throne is no longer safe, your land is barren and your subjects have turned to Leonardo’s side. I beg of you, Milord, leave this land. Allow your brother, that treacherous idiot Leonardo, and his followers take Salvanza. It is not worth all the carnage.”
“We cannot let them win,” Twindler said as he rose from his throne, “my brother is a mad man, a crazy, power hungry, corrupt idiot. There must be another way.”
Zenith was silent for a moment. “There is one alternative that may be the only option we have.”
“Tell me then!” Twindler almost barked.
”Okay,” the old wizard began, “according to the Celestas and the High Mystical Council, the most ancient documents and religious scrolls say a child of great power will rise from the darkness and toil that will besiege the land, and he will be the saviour of the land. And as you know, your son, Azri, is rumoured to be the Ascended Body.”
“Indeed, but he has not yet manifested enough energy for the Divine Ascension,” the King said, slightly annoyed.
Zenith ignored the King’s anger and persevered. “No, but I have an idea. If we exorcise his soul from his body and transfer it to another body, one of an inhabitant of a planet far less advanced than our own, the planet Earth where time passes much rapider, we can allow him to mature enough and then transport him back to this land and send him tot eh Ascension.”
“It is not an option,” the King shouted, “my son is not some experimental patient. He is…”
“It’s our only hope!” Zenith said, “otherwise the Ascension may never occur and your brother ill be unstoppable. Please, do not deny the people of Salvanza the right to live!”
Twindler was silent for a moment. Finally he began to speak. “If it will save my land, then let it be done.”
Salvanza couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So then I preformed the ceremony and took Azri’s spirit to earth. I knew I had to plant the spirit in an unborn child. And the first person I came to was you, Salvanza. I transferred Azri’s spirit into yours. It’s like this; you were always in control, but his spirit was feeding off you, and growing and growing until it was strong enough to contact me and tell me it was time for the Ascension. That happened a few days ago, and I have been travelling to get here. A terrible fate has befallen Salvanza in the year since we allowed Prince Azri to leave. His father has been murdered and his uncle Leonardo has taken the throne. A small band of people who followed Azri’s father are in existence, waiting for day when the time was ready. And now is today.”
The Purple Hellion looked flabbergasted. “I don’t understand, why me?” he asked.
Zenith smiled. “Coincidence. You were the first child who was a mutant I came across. Purely by coincidence. You see, we needed a mutant because they house much more power than normal earthlings. And the recent change in your powers is because of Azri. Before he needed more energy from you, so the whole ability to spew forth fire and acid was induced by him. But he has become less dependant and has allowed your X-gene to flourish. And when you were killed and your body was restored by the man I met earlier on the astral plane, the Purple King, the X-gene was completely developed, allowing you the access to your full potential. And one last thing before we go; you were named Salvanza by coincidence. But never change your name. For it is the name of our homeland, and scriptures have it, the day you change it is the day our world will come to an end. Although it is not your birthright nor your problem to deal with, you are like a saviour to our people. And perhaps one day, we will call upon that.”
With that the two vanished and Salvanza found himself waking up in a hospital bed, surrounded by several Court members. “Boy, have I one story to tell you guys,” he said.
The End.
