flame under ice [tryout]

[neon.]

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shiva - the destroyer of evil and the transformer
what is a name, if not the definition of a man?

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art by me.
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[neon.]

Welcome to Paradise - there was no sign saying such, but everyone knew the saying. Avalon - the city of paradise. A utopia of technology, where anyone could be anything. Those who lived there loved it- and those who did not spoke fondly of it.

But for all its beauty, all its light, there was a darkness. The Enforcers were the defensive force of Avalon. The ones in charge of making people safe, and making the city run smoothly. The people knew of them- they have seen the guards on the outskirts of their city, uniformed and standing strict. But there is more to the Enforcers than just that. Peace can come in many forms, and one of them is the peace of absence.

The peace of taking lives. The lives of those who had done wrong, the criminal, the revolutionaries, the dissenters, but lives nonetheless. These Enforcers were a different kind- and unlike the ones on guard duty, they could not be interviewed for. They were created.

‘We’ll call you Shiva.’ The woman sighed, picking up the child and bringing him close. She brushed back his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He was a scrawny thing, all bones and no substance, but hanging on to life with a fierce tenacity. He’d been found in a hotel room. Left there by parents not native to Avalon- perhaps, they had left him there to give him a life in paradise. He had been there for days now, paradise just out of reach.

He would be given a new life, but it was nothing anyone could ever imagine.

---

Shiva rubbed his hands together, trying to stave off the cold. It didn’t work. It was slowly seeping into his bones, headless of the heavy jacket he wore. He had been out here for a while now, sitting on the roof tops. Neon glow invaded his vision, the brilliance of Avalon’s nightlife intrusive and glaring. He had wanted to be alone from the city but such a thing was impossible. Even on the highest roof, the bright lights and noises of city still followed him.

He had a break, now. According to his handler- or agent as she preferred, children were supposed to have rest in between stimulation. So he had a little time to be alone with himself. Shiva was never alone at any other time- awake, he was with his agent, Hecate, or sometimes one of the many other agents. Asleep, he was with all the other students in training.

Being alone was… strange. It was like he was unraveling. And if Shiva- they were all named after gods, here- was unraveled, what would be left? He was a serious child. But he could not be serious when he was Shiva. Because Shiva was learning to be something else- Shiva was soon to be an Enforcer, and so he had to be everything. He had to be strong, he had to be weak, he had to be merciless, he had to be merciful. He had to put on a thousand faces and learn to be anyone. Somehow, that thought scared him. If he could become anyone, who was he really? Eventually, Shiva and Enforcer would mean the same thing. Shiva too would become just a title. A job description.

He wondered if he’d ever have a real name. He’d learned about other children, of course- if he ever needed to act the part, he had to know. But Shiva couldn’t imagine the thought for himself. He knew of course, where he had come from. He had been abandoned and taken in by the Enforcers, just like all of the other trainees. But surely, he imagined, he must have had a name for himself before he was left. In his heart, he hoped that- but in his head, he knew the truth. The trainees were never sheltered from reality like other children were. They were never children when it mattered. They were trainees- only when his agent let him off for a break was he a child.

His bracelet vibrated against his skin. He tapped it quickly, not wanted the sensation to continue. Shiva already knew what it was going to say, but he let it happen anyway- ‘Your break time is over. Please meet Agent Hecate in the armory.’ The armory- he hadn’t been there before. He wondered this time what knowledge would be shoved into his head. Weaponry , of course, but what sort? In his limited world, something new was always exciting. The bracelet beeped again, this time alerting him of his rising heart rate. In his limited world, everything was monitored and kept track of. Too much excitement was not permitted- it could form a personality, and if Shiva had a personality, then he could not be anyone.

At least the device could not sense the twisting in his stomach. That was all in his head, and only for himself. For whatever was underneath Shiva.

[neon.]

His world was quiet. His world was this marketplace, this street, the heat of the day, the rising dust from the paved roads. He was an inhabitant of this world. At least, he was for the next three weeks.

Shiva moved from emotionless to attached in the space of a breath. With new eyes, he looked over this stretch of world. People hustled from one place to another, stopping occasionally to head into a store or to wait for a crossing sign. His target was one of these people, so Shiva was now one of those people.

He moved with the crowd, pushing as they pulled, finally breaking away to enter into a small shop. The clerk at the front was young, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun. She offered him a friendly smile. “Welcome to Malachite’s Mysteries. Let me know if you need any help finding anything!”

Shiva needed to find Malachite, not an item. He returned her smile with one of his own. When you faked something often enough, it began to look real. “I’m actually looking for the owner. I found a rare object, and I would love to get it appraised. Any chance you could help me out?” He moved up to front desk, catching the clerk’s eye as he walked. In the back of his mind, Shiva registered her interest. He could use that to press for more information.

“Ah, unfortunately Malachite’s on a research trip right now ! But I’m pretty good at appraising myself. I did learn from the best, you know?” She leaned forward a little.

“I might have to take you up on that offer,” Shiva agreed, letting warmth seep into his voice. “Unfortunately, I did not actually bring the item- I just came for an inquiry. But I promise I will be back.”

He returned one week later in the cover of night. He’d been scoping out the shop for the past week, observing the routines of the clerk. When she opened, when she locked up. Even if Malachite was not there, he could still go through the man’s information. There was a locked office, and Shiva wanted in. Well- not wanted. Shiva didn’t feel things such as want anymore. But he was assigned this task, and so he needed to complete it.

All locks were provided by the government- part of the free infrastructure. The Enforcers were also part of the government. And so, gaining entrance was easy as sliding a key.

Entering the office should have been just as simple- Shiva knelt down, probing the lock with gloved fingertips. The access pad was different from anything he’d seen before. It’s shape suggested it was a custom built- and something about it reminded him of the locks at the Enforcer’s home base…

He only had an instant of awareness before he was attacked. Someone behind him- and he ducked down, a gust of air and then a sharp twang as a knife embedded over his head.

Then, he was fighting. He blocked a punch to the throat, immediately on the defensive as he observed his attacker. Dark hair, violet eyes, a strong build. The other was taller, older. Shiva, in body, was still a teenager. His attacker realized that, and pressed the advantage.

Shiva was trained in hand to hand since birth. The style he used was one typical to enforcers- one that went for all the weak points.

His opponent was doing the same, but with greater ease. The man’s longer reach forced Shiva to dodge more than he’d have liked, and every hit required so much of his energy to block. And every move of his own it felt like the man knew exactly where he was aiming and was easily able to dodge out of the way.

Shiva moved in a two-step lunge, and the man copied with effortless grace. If he didn’t do something, he knew he would lose. And then the realization- the why he was losing so bad. “You’re an Enforcer,” he hissed. No one else could know all those techniques with that deadly ease.

An elbow to the throat caught him blind, and he choked- successive hits had him down on his knees. He couldn’t breathe, and the other hits had taken out his mobility. Shiva contemplated death, and wondered why he wasn’t more afraid. There was nothing left to be afraid for, he supposed.

“And you’re just a kid- they sent you to eliminate me?”

“Malachite?” Violet eyes and dark hair- he looked just like the picture. “I am not a child.” He added on, just because he could. He’d never had to say something like that before.

Rough hands picked him up by the collar and dragged him into the central room. Shiva ended up tied with rope and in between a selection of gag gifts and wooden figures. He closed his mouth resolutely. Was he to be interrogated? He reflected on the procedure for that scenario. Death was preferable to giving up the organization. Suddenly, there was fear. Where had it been earlier?

“I used to be Mercury.”

Shiva’s head shot up, red eyes locking onto the man standing across from him. Whatever information he got, if he escaped, he could take it back-

“Your ‘organization’ already knows all this. And they still sent you after me. You’re not the first one, either.” The man who was once Mercury sighed, shaking his head. “The others didn’t return. They were all older- there was only death in those fights.”

“You were an enforcer. You should not be afraid of death- You should have let them carry out their mission.” Shiva couldn’t hold his tongue, much as he tried. This was a situation he didn’t have a protocol for. He was left to improvise. He felt old twinges of curiosity. No one- no one left the enforcers. And yet, here there was : Malachite, an ex-enforcer.

[neon.]

The world crept onward, and Shiva was still here, waiting in time for either death or something else, all at the mercy of some man who should not exist. He stared upwards, trying to pick up some que of what was next. But Malachite’s eyes glittered with some hidden emotion that Shiva could not read. “You’re still so young- there are many like you're not there? So many other trainees becoming the perfect servant.”

“We were never servants-”

“We?” Malachite’s laugh echoed in the empty building. Shiva was suddenly conscious of the world around him. No one would know he was in here. No one but the organization he’d belonged to- the ones who’d sent him here. On a task that had already been failed by others. “There is no we. I am not Mercury. I will never have my original name- but I think Malachite suits me just fine.” The man’s words snapped Shiva back to the situation. He’d just, what, spaced out? He was a failure of his training. “If you think we are anything but servants to the ones running the organization- Well, I suppose you’d make a fine enforcer.”

Shiva bristled. Somehow just those few words made him feel angry, a nearly foreign feeling. He squashed the feeling quickly, and yet he felt more off balance for it.

“You’re angry?” Malachite seemed amused. “Maybe I’ll let you live yet- I was just like you, once. Sixteen, I’m guessing. You think you’ve done such an excellent job destroying your feelings. And then you find out something. It changes your worldview. And you begin to feel angry again. Have you ever wondered about your other trainees?”

“I am not supposed to think about them. I don’t interact with them.” Here he was, just giving the man information. No wonder they limited emotions- they were useless. “Stop- just. I don’t want to hear it.”

“No more combat spars with trainees, I’m guessing. That’s probably because of me. Training with someone your age… That creates a bond, even friendship. My friend went missing. He’d been killed. Everyone moved on, but not me.”

Shiva wondered what the purpose of this talk was. He wondered if he’d even live to do something about it- And for the first time, he wondered about the dwindling numbers of trainees.

“I’m going to let you go- And I want you to know why. I’m letting you go because you’re like me. You’re angry. And I want to see how you’ll hurt the organization.”

Shiva was let go, stumbling out on the streets with weakened limbs. It was only when Malachite was out of view that he started trembling.

It was subtle at first, little tremors of his hands. And it spread through his body, sending him down to the ground. In the mild of paradise, no one stopped to give him a glance. Everyone was consumed by their own pleasures- and Shiva was consumed by his own emotions.

Once he stopped shaking, he looked at the world and wondered if he’d been born again. He could have- should have- died back there. Yet Malachite had let him live. There was nothing stopping him from running back to the organization and telling them everything he’d learned. And yet, he didn’t.

Instead he wondered how anger would feel. Shiva wondered how it would be to feel friendship- to train against someone his age, to laugh and struggle like normal children his age would. He wondered if he could fake emptiness just as easily as he faked emotions. What would it be like, he wondered, if he let himself feel, and faked the emotionless state instead?

Shiva stood up, and he made a decision.

He headed out to the organization, and he thought of new names.