Star Rebellion (45 page)

              “The rest of you can do as you please until the meeting is over. Ares, please come with me.” Arctic pivoted on his heel without another word and left us standing in the night. Ares followed him on silent feet, and I stay true to my earlier observation. He did not look upset about being kicked out of the Divine.

              Just after Arctic passed the fountain he looked back at us. “And try not to get killed before the meeting is over. Also, most people will think Alvair is a demon, just a fair warning.” He gave us a faint smile before continuing on to the palace.

              I looked over at my friends and cracked a huge grin. “Who wants to go have story time over a nice cup of demonic blood?”

              Firestar shrugged, but cracked a grin. “You wouldn't believe some of the people we met. If you thought Star Rebellion was mental, well. Terrorists are worse.” Darkstar smirked and Ice shook his head. Things were back to normal, I had my friends with me again.

              I looked up at Vladimir and perked an eyebrow. He shook his head and turned his back to us, taking a few steps before looking over his shoulder. “I have things to do. If Arctic asks for me, tell him that I’ll try to be back to the fountain by two.” Vlad walked off to the shadows without another word, even when I called after him.

              His silence wasn’t going to stop me. “Vladimir!” I shouted again and started running after him. I could hear Firestar mutter some joke about me and I figured I’d clout him on the head later.

              I caught up with Vlad before he had gone more than twenty paces. I put a hand on his shoulder, but Vlad automatically shrugged it off. “Leave me alone, Waterstar.”

              I took a step back. My fists were clenched at my sides and I could feel my teeth grinding. “What happened?” I said, my voice much quieter than I had thought it would be.

              “Why do you think something’s happened?” He still wasn’t turning to face me.

              “You’re different. Something had to have happened, you aren’t acting like before.”

              “Like what, Water? How did I act before?” Vladimir finally turned, his face completely shadowed as he looked down at me. I didn’t realize just how tall he was compared to my five foot five until now.

              I shifted my eyes away. “I don’t know. Before I thought… I thought we might’ve been good together.” Maybe I had just been imagining that. Maybe I had been the only one that had felt that way. A thousand different paranoid thoughts raced through my mind, taunting me.

              “You are human. You will die long before I even look thirty. Waterstar, why in the name of the Seven Hells would I be with you? What happened in the Underworld was nothing; I was just playing with you. Now leave me alone, I have things to do.” Vladimir turned his back on me again and I felt something raging within me.

              “Liar,” I whispered. “Liar! You’re lying Vladimir, I know it. I KNOW IT!” With my last shout I ran from him, but not toward my friends either. That had taken a dramatic turn, and I wasn’t a fan of drama.

              I ran toward the Palace, thinking I’d get so lost in there, no one could find me until I wanted to be found. At least, Rebellion members wouldn’t be able to. As I ran past my friends, I could hear them shouting after me, asking me what happened, where I was going. Firestar was the loudest; I think he was yelling at Vlad. I didn’t blame him.

              I pushed the doors open once more and as I took a sharp turn, the left this time, the polished floors slipped beneath my shoes and I vaulted forward, my knees landing heavily on the floor.

              I could feel the throbbing pain in both of my knees, but I didn’t move. I sat there, staring at the earth-toned floor, wondering why I was so upset.

              Yea, I had thought for some unknown reason that Vladimir and I would be together after the war. I had thought that maybe there was something behind that uncanny stare of his, or the smile he would sometimes grace upon me.

              He was right, though. What would an immortal demon king want with some random chick who belonged to a semi-accomplished rebellion?

              Soon Firestar was in the hall. I could hear his pounding feet as he approached the doors, and he nearly ran me over before he realized I was just sitting there. “Waterstar?” Fire hesitantly asked as he knelt in front of me.

              I kept on staring at the floor, acting as if I hadn’t noticed his presence. I don’t know why I was acting like such an idiot right now. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want them to talk to me. Something inside me had snapped over the silliest thing.

              “Waterstar, say something.” Firestar placed a hand under my chin and lift my face so I had to look at him. Gently, with his other hand Fire wiped away tears I hadn’t known existed.

              “I’m being stupid,” I whispered as Dark and Ice entered the hall.

              “You trusted someone who didn’t deserve it.”

              “I decided I liked someone after knowing him for a few hours.” I cracked a smile afterwards as I realized something. “I was acting like those prissy idiots who chase after every guy with a face.”

              Firestar also cracked a smile. “If you start liking the color pink, we’ll know the world has ended.”

              I nodded my head and let him help me up off of the ground. Darkstar pulled me into a hug and Ice patted me on the back, the closest he really came to showing emotion. “The guy's an ass,” Ice said softly. I looked up at him and though his face looked as stoic as usual, his eyes seemed to hold a cold anger.

              “Well, it’s story time now. Seriously, I want to know what happened in Russia.” Icestar held out a hand and I took it. He pulled me up from the ground and I slung an arm over Dark and Fire’s shoulders. I pushed them back out the door and toward the fountain; Vladimir was nowhere in sight, something I was thankful for.

              I dropped down to the ground and laid on my back, staring up at the stars. They were completely different than the ones back in Calsh, and I had a disorienting experience as I realized that if I got lost here, I wouldn’t be able to figure out which direction was which.

              Firestar lounged next to me, one arm slung over his knee, while Darkstar leaned his back against the fountain’s rim as he sat on the cobblestones. Icestar stayed standing, keeping an eye on the entrances to the plaza. He was starting to learn the tensions of a field agent, it seemed. Alvair appeared out of a shadow and Ice flinched. The Direwolf ignored all of us as he dropped down to the cobblestones and closed his eyes, though I doubted he was sleeping.

              Before we started the lovely story time, I looked over at Dark. “By the way, do Calshians have, like, you know, super strength and stuff? Like are be more evolved than those people here?”

              Darkstar looked up at the stars, gathering his thoughts. “Minimally. There is a difference, and as a whole, Calshians are faster and stronger than those on Earth, purely due to the conditions of Calsh. We have had to evolve to handle some of the things that the world has. However, people on Earth can still be stronger than us if they have trained and we didn't. Therefore, the difference between us is not so significant to make us superior. Those of us who have powers though, do have an advantage over both worlds.”

ARCTIC

              The Vatican had provided a large room with more than enough seats for all of the world powers, Arctic noted as he observed the room. He took the seat farthest from the door and at the head of the table, as he had become accustomed to doing in Calsh.

              He wasn’t waiting long for everyone to show up. Moscow and Beijing were first for the obvious reasons, and to no one’s surprise, Washington was the last. He grumbled moodily as Foreststar led him into the room, but didn’t outright say anything to anyone.

              Ares was sitting to his right and Arctic glanced at him before rising. What little conversation was going on halted immediately as the young commander took his stand. He placed his hands firmly on the table and eyed each of the men in the eye.

              “I have called everyone here to discuss what has happened with the demons. I thank you all for taking time out of what must be tiring circumstances.”

              “You bet your britches it has been tiring! Demons plaguing the Earth, because your men couldn’t do things properly.” Mister London glared at him, arms already folded.

              Arctic nodded slightly at the man. “Yes, indeed it is a fault from the Rebellion, but we have tried to make amends as best as possible. I believe I have mentioned the Divine before, albeit briefly. It is where what we call angels dwell, one of which is our very own Mister Vatican.” Arctic wasn’t going to reveal that his true name was Ares. It had always been the norm to call each other by capitols here, and he wasn’t going to break tradition. Really, he just didn’t feel like it would be wise to tell them who exactly the angel was.

              “Please hold your peace until I am done.” Arctic raised a hand in warning at Mister Washington as he went to also stand. The man glared at the Rebellion commander, but stayed seated. “Mister Vatican, along with the new king of the Underworld, whom is an ally to us, have traveled to the Divine to seek help from the angels. Even as we speak, there are multitudes of these winged men soaring across both worlds, granting a blessing to man, woman, and child alike. For seven days and seven nights we will have their strength, their speed, and their ability to combat hell, but for only that time. We must unite our forces and strategize together to defeat our common enemy, and we cannot afford to let quarrels come between us.” Arctic eyed Beijing and Moscow, who were sitting next to one another. Neither seemed to be paying much attention, merely staring at the table. Beijing’s brow was scrunched up as if in deep thought.

              Arctic looked down the table once more, holding each man’s gaze. “We are humanity. We know how to prosper in times of difficulty. The demons shall not overcome us. Now you may ask questions.”

              Washington stood first. “If this Underworld king is an ally, then why can’t he just call the demons back to Hell?”

              Arctic nodded his head. “According to Vladimir, for that is his name, his father had released him as his heir, so the demons scattered after Lucifer’s death. If we can rally them all back into the Underworld, Vladimir feels that he can take his claim over them, like he was supposed to in the beginning.”

              Washington sat, but London took his place. “What exactly is this Divine? And why aren’t the angels helping more than this?”

              “The Divine is just another world, stacked similarly to us as Calsh and Earth are. It is not heaven, we do not go there once we die, if I understand what Mister Vatican has told me. The angels offer only this much help because they feel that this is not a war for their race.”

              “And yet they leave one of their own here?” London pressed on.

              “Mister Vatican is here of his own free will, not because the angels wished to leave him here. He decided that he did not agree with their perspective of how this war should be fought, so he stayed to help.”

              Ares nodded his head to support what Arctic was saying. London eyed the pair of them before sitting.

              Another man stood. He had black hair and slanted eyes, along with the chestnut skin that was common to the Pacific Asians. Mister Seoul, Arctic thought to himself.

              “And what of the supposed attack from Ru- from Mister Moscow?” He eyed the man in question diligently. Seoul had taken a seat directly across from Moscow, placing him next to Ares.             

              “Nothing of it. Mister Moscow has came to see reason and will not be attacking anyone without consent. And thank you for bringing up the question of Russia, Mister Seoul.” Arctic dipped his head to the man and he sat down, looking appeased. Arctic then shifted his gaze over to Moscow, who was still staring at the table as if he had heard nothing that had just transpired.             

              “Mister Moscow, I have a proposition for you.”

              Arctic waited for the man’s response, but it never came. Instead, after a few moments of everyone looking over at the Russian, with the exclusion of Beijing who was still looking puzzled about something, Moscow’s head dropped to the table with a dull thud. Everyone stared at him for a moment more before the shouts erupted.

              Arctic struggled to make him heard over everyone, and men from all of the world power’s guards came rushing into the room at the sudden clamor. They only added more confusion to the fray.

              Arctic finally managed to get his point across that they needed a medic. One finally appeared, someone who looked as Italian as Mister Rome, and checked the breathing of Moscow. He pulled back the Russian’s eyelids and pressed a stethoscope against the man’s chest when he didn’t feel air coming from the mouth.

              The man looked up at Arctic and shook his head. The man was dead, as suddenly as if by magic.

              “What is the cau-” Arctic had started to say to the medic when another thud echoed into the near silent room.