Crusaders III: The New Age 1.25

3.6  It isn’t over until it’s done.

Micheal pull to rest on the back of the vehicle with his eyes closed while Sam took the wheel. They had done some damages to the enemies but the war was still on. It had been for sometime but their victories are scarce and had no major effect on the enemies. It was then Sam spoke to him.

"Micheal, are you listening?" Sam asked him. The older man heard the affirmative sound from the young shooter.

"I got a tale to tell you." Sam continued on. "Do you recall that I took you from the rubbles of the missionary? Well, it was not a coincidence. I was from the Missionary; a misled sheep that was asked to rejoin the flock for a reason. It was to bring you out to train you myself. Father Andrew of Moor then had contacted me to see him about you. He had told me of your past and your legacy."

"If it’s the tales of the Crusaders, then I am not interested." Sam had told the tales since he was rescued then at the age of thirteen. He recalled the Missionary was under attack and Brother Percy, his guardian then made him leave by the hidden tunnels.

"Go, my child. Your protector would be there at the other end. Follow him and learned hard." With that Brother Percy pushed the boy to leave but he was given a box to pass for the protector. That person happened to be Sam who was then dressed in the uniform of the United Euro with the rank of Lieutenant. For five years, Micheal was to follow Sam in his adventures with the mercenaries and also learned how to shoot with the rifles. As mentioned before Micheal was a natural and soon started on his first mission at the age of sixteen. Since then, he had never slowed down.

"Meeky, do you recalled the box, you gave me when we met then?" Sam asked him. "It’s below your seat."

Micheal ignored his statement and continued on his rest but he was keen to know what the older man had to say. He was whisked off without a reason then from the missionary.

"Meeky if you are not listening, it does not matters much but this tale had to be told." Sam continued on. "You are the descendant of Moor. Your ancestor was Micheal Moor who was the first members of the Crusader. You are his last surviving descendant. Your legacy was to exterminate the threat of the un-faithless and the fallen Angels."

It was those last words that made Micheal moved in his seat. He was unsettled by the word 'Fallen Angels'. It was in his dreams that he would shoot on one that was falling in free space, with its wings tattered on his back. It was one shot which he was not to know if he hit for his dream was never complete. He would always wake up in a fright; panting and covered with sweats.

"Micheal, please look into the box." Sam told the younger sniper once more. It was then the vehicle was rocked and then toppled over to its side, spilling its two passengers.

Sam recovered with his side arm drawn, and saw a shadow that swept passed by him, and yet unseen or uncaught by his eyes.

"Shadow!" Sam shouted out. "Demons!"

Sam' warning was heard, but it was to be his last. He did not feel the claws that pierced his back and tore along his spine. He turned to see his adversary but saw only a glimpse of the killer. He rolled onto his front and screamed. Micheal heard the cry and rushed to his mentor with the rifle. He saw the shadow, and swung the rifle like a staff. He heard the contact and it was like hitting something hard, and the rifle bent on the barrel.

Micheal dropped the damaged rifle and reached for his side arm. He was cautious and relaxed his body. He poised himself on his feet and leveled the sidearm, feeling then the shadow fleeting by him but not touching his body. He relaxed his mind and alerted his five senses. It was part of this training and legacy. The last jolted him but his hands and fingers reacted. There was not one shot but a series of shots which trailed by the movement of his hands.

The dark shadow shrieked out in pain and flew off into the dark skies.

"Thank God. You have acquired your skills." Sam moaned out in his pain. Micheal ran up to him, and crouched next to him.

"I think I got it but the darkness swallowed it." Micheal told him while he looked around in case the creature as he termed it came back.

"No, Micheal. Please ....hear me out." Sam coughed out his words when the blood covered his air passages. "Your legacy....in the box."

With those words, Sam the Mentor died on the sands of the wasteland. Micheal crouched there as a sign of respect for his mentor and also to think out his next move. There was no more attack, and he approached the toppled over vehicle. He retrieved his rifle and spare ammos, and then saw the box. He hesitated but then it was drawn to him, he had to know.

Micheal opened it and saw the two sidearm’s with a box of ammo. He recognized it as the early models of the revolvers; Colt Navy 44 with the long barrel. Beside the revolvers was a note.

"This one set of revolvers was once used by the Crusaders to kill Vampires. Its potent element is in the bullets; silver dust mixed with gunpowder with the silver head."

It was his legacy to own it

It was also his curse from the Moor family.

It was his ancestors' legacy, and now his.