Jenkins laughed again, the sound a little too shrill and mechanical. "You can't choose your family, Bryan. They're stuck with you, no matter what."Bryan's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "I don't want to talk about my family, Jenkins. Can you let it go?!” He asked with a harsh tone. But for a second, he couldn't help feeling pity for him. Once again, he was clearly not mentally well and it showed. "Have you been taking your medications?" He asked with a low tone, his worry evident.Jenkins scratched his head, his eyes clouding over. "Yeah, they said life can't be the same again. I guess this is what they mean. Everyone thinks I'm insane," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.Bryan's eyes bulged, he couldn't believe that he'd just made the man feel bad. "I didn't mean that at all, I was just trying to make sure that you're fine," he said, his voice softening.The old man smiled and waved him off. "Yeah, you don't have to say it, I can see it in your eyes," he replied,
The next day, Benjamin called Bryan as early as daybreak. Bryan was still sleepy when he heard his phone ring and he rolled out of bed to grab it. "Hey, Ben, you're waking me up rather early, what's up?" He asked, his voice groggy with sleep.Benjamin first apologized for calling him up so early and asked how his previous day had gone. Bryan sighed, wondering how he could possibly recount his day to his friend. It was one hell of a year and it left him sour. "That's a long story, Ben. I don't think I want to talk about it," he replied, rubbing his eyes.Ben laughed and told him that he knew he'd gone home and he could guess that it wasn't such an easy day since his brother wasn't the most friendly person. Bryan scoffed, calling his brother unfriendly and was just trying to coat it up. Josiah was outrightly harsh, he was everything that someone would never want his own brother to do. "That's falling far from the mark," Bryan said, his voice laced with sarcasm.Ben sighed, telling him he
Bryan was already seething with hot wrath. How could his general even think that he'd want to hear about any territory and political bullshit when all he was trying to do was aimed at giving his life meaning? For a second, he felt stupid for even picking the call in the first place. It didn't make any sense to talk about the territory when his mind kept playing back to Uncle William's words and that of Josiah. “Hello, are you there?" Ben's voice came through the speaker, dragging him from his intense thoughts. “Stop!" He snapped suddenly, without any warning. “I've had enough of this bullshit!" He said with a fierce look. "Come up, what are you talking about!” Ben asked as his voice rose. Bryan told him that he had no interest in talking politics. He was sick and tired or running in circles. “What I need right now is a fucking compass! I need someone, something, anything, to take me to where my past is. I want to know what I am, who I am, what went wrong,” he bit out, "Not some pol
Bryan quickly tried to regain composure from the information that had just shaken him. If someone else was the supreme warlord, then it meant that the council had convened to terminate his own title and somehow found someone else worthy of such ordination. "Last time I checked, there was no one who could even compete with me. No one was worth being the supreme master, talk more of the supreme warlord. Had they suddenly dropped their standard?" He asked out loud but to no one in particular.He couldn't believe it. He was the best, the greatest, the supreme. No one could match his skills, his strategy, his leadership. He was the one who had been chosen, who had been destined for greatness.Who could even replace him? Who was worthy of such a title, the supreme warlord? Bryan snickered, wondering who could even stand behind him, he was second to none. There was no one he could think of that was even half the man he was. All his generals needed a lesson on night and courage. They couldn't
After a few minutes of driving through the busy streets of the city, he went easy on the brakes as he turned to the quiet suburban area. Peterson was always one for his space and privacy and perhaps one could say that he was the most secretive member of the team. When he arrived at Peterson's place, he met with his son, Chad just as he rang the doorbell and the maid allowed him in. “Hey, boy." Bryan said as he stepped into the house. Chad looked at him oddly and then for a second, recognition flashed in his eyes and he stepped aside. “Mr Bryan," he said with a thin voice. Bryan gave him a slight nod and moved into the living room, taking the plush seat that he was offered. “We weren't expecting such an important guest," Chad said with a smile that was obviously as fake as the Picasso painting on the wall. “I never planned to pay the visit either,” Bryan replied. Chad was eager to show him around and also asked to serve him breakfast and a cup of coffee. But Bryan was already gett
Bryan staggered back a little, struggling to process the jarring change in Jenkins’ voice. The old man he had known was frail, his voice barely rising above a whisper. Yet, the voice on the phone now was strong and assertive, unrecognizable as Jenkins'. He glanced around, half-expecting to see the old man materialize in front of him, but there was nothing—just the lingering sound of his own breathing and the hum of the city around him."Jenkins?" Bryan asked again, his voice edged with uncertainty. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t speaking to someone else, someone who had somehow gotten hold of Jenkins’ phone. His skepticism was palpable, though he hoped it wasn’t the case.“It’s me, Bryan. You said I should call you right? You did give me your card,” the voice on the line said. Bryan could almost hear the confidence emanating from the speaker. It was a tone of authority that starkly contrasted with the frailty he had grown accustomed to.“You sound different,” Bryan said, his laugh com
Bryan drove like the devil was on his tail, arriving at the classic bar Jenkins had picked out for their meeting. It was a beautiful garden bar just outside of town. As Bryan killed the engine, he pulled on his coat and baseball cap, trying his best at disguise before stepping into the place.**The garden bar was indeed a fitting spot for Jenkins, considering his love for flowers. Just as Bryan looked to the left, he saw the old man's hand guiding him to a corner table. Bryan walked over and shook his head in disbelief."I was hoping you only sounded different, but you look different too," Bryan said.Jenkins was dressed in a thick fur coat and a hat. He nursed a cup of coffee with his gloved hands."Sit down, boy. I have to be quick," Jenkins said.Bryan noticed that gone was Jenkins' stammering and broken words. He spoke fluently now, almost as if nothing had ever been wrong with him. Bryan sat down, looking at him curiously."You're running out of time. Your brother and uncle have
That night, Bryan woke up with a jerk. The cold sweat on his forehead same as the ice creeping down his spine. He had just had the weirdest dream. Or was it a dream? He couldn't tell. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool wooden floor beneath his feet. He needed water, something to qunwch his dry throat that felt like parchment paper. Yawning, he padded softly with bare feet to the kitchen, he moved through the darkened hallway, the silence of the night making his soft footfalls resound. The house was as dark as his thoughts. Speaking of thoughts, Bryan hadn't been able to keep his mind blank since the incident with Jenkins. Neither had he been able to wrap his head around all that the old man had told him. But somehow it made perfect sense. The odd stares, the way his aunt hated him but somehow loved his brother, it all made sense somehow. As he reached the kitchen, he flipped on the light and blinked against the sudden brightness. He headed for the cabinet