Liberty's Kids Fan Fiction ❯ The Legend of Masked Rider ❯ The reson we fight ( Chapter 8 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

CHAPTER EIGHT
 
Sarah, James, and Henri helped my forces and I to the Radcliffe estate on Manhattan Island where I could rest-up. “Hang on, Mykan… we're almost there.” Clarissa said.
 
Mrs. Radcliffe was nearly petrified with anger to find that Sarah was dragging all these filthy strangers in their homes. “Look at them… they smell so filthy, and are dressed so improper.”
 
“Silence you!” growled one of them monks. Mrs. Radcliffe's jaw hung open in shock. “How dare you--” but the monks weren't listening to her.
 
“Here… place him on the sofa.” Sarah suggested.
 
Mrs. Radcliffe couldn't believe her eyes when she realized who it was everyone was trying to help. “That… that suit.” she said. “You're the… You're the--”
 
She ran to get try and call for help, but one of our friends stopped her. “That would be most unwise.” she said in a British voice. Mrs. Radcliffe then reconsidered, and everyone cast their attention back to me.
 
I got to my feet, “Mykan… Mykan you must lay back.” said Clarissa.
 
“No… I will be able to rest more thoroughly if I power down my suit.” I said and my suit vanished revealing my normal monk's outfit. “Wow… did you see that?” James asked.
 
“His suit… it just vanished.” added Sarah.
 
As I rested and consume my fill, from the obligation of Mrs. Radcliffe, Sarah and James noticed how three of the monks kept starring them both, and then back to the two monks on the sofa, much to their curiosity.
 
Henri just had to ask. “Who exactly are you people?”
 
There was a brief moment of silence, until one of them monks broke the silence saying. “Sire… I feel that maybe we can trust them. They did stop to help us after all.”
 
“Sire…?” Sarah asked. “You are… royalty.”
 
I got up, and so did Clarissa. Then we both slowly reached for our hoods and pulled them off revealing our faces for the first time. The kids and Mrs. Radcliffe gasped in amazement.
 
I looked exactly like James, only I was taller, I had brown eyes, and shorter red-hair. While Clarissa looked exactly like Sarah, only she too was taller than her, her hair was brown, not done up with a ribbon, and her eyes were blue.
 
“Sacre' Bleu…” cried Henri. “Am I seeing things?”
 
“Who are you…?” James asked again.
 
I stepped forward and bowed to them. “My name is Mykan Dex; Prince of the distant island of Edenoi.” I explained. “I am also called the Masked Rider; a great power bestowed upon me that allows me to battle the armed forces.”
 
“This is Clarissa… she is my Fiancée… and these are our three best friends of all…” our three friends took of their hoods. One woman, and two men, “Sarius, Donius, and Farien...”
 
Our friends bowed to the kids. “Who are all of you?” Sarius asked. “And why did you risk helping us?”
 
“I'm James Hiller.”
 
“I am Miss Sarah Philips of London England.”
 
“Henri Richard Maurice Dutoit LeFebrve…”
 
James showed us a copy of the newspaper. “We're all journalists, and we work for Dr. Benjamin Franklin of the Pennsylvania Gazette.” He explained to us. “It's our job to report exciting details about the war that has struck our land between America and Great Brittan.”
 
Sarah nodded, “And while we find what you did to those red-coats horrifying… we are still very impressed with your powers.” she said. “But I do have a question. If you all are British as I am, then why do you battle the red-coats.”
 
“I most certainly wish to know the answer to that myself.” added Mrs. Radcliffe.
 
Clarissa and I nodded at each other; it was time to share our piece. Using her powers of witchcraft she portrayed a few images to help the kids understand things more easily as I explained to them…
 
While we were indeed British, we loathed and despised King George III from whom we believed unfit to rule the country, and a hated criminal. “How can you say such a thing about his majesty?” Sarah snapped at us. “He is a very fine King who serves the country well.”
 
I explained to her, “You do not know the King as the rest of us do, and what he is truly like…”
 
He refused to help feed the poor who desperately needed assistance or would perish. He evicted people, who were unable to pay the taxes, from their homes… and worse… “He had killed my father.”
 
“What…?” Sarah asked.
 
I told her how my father was once a loyal servant to the King, and pretty much the only one of our many villagers who did not believe the King for being wicked. One day however, a shipment of coffee that was being delivered to the palace had been lost in the water while my father was not watching.
 
The King was absolutely infuriated that he sentenced my father to the gallows, and refused to hear him protest that he was not to blame. He killed my father for a crime he did not commit… “And it was at this point that our tribe lost all patience, and declared a an all out vendetta against the King.”
 
We began to lay waste to King George, and his government, but we were soon wanted for treason, and were forced to cast off out to sea. There we had discovered a lonely, yet habitable island where we had long since lived, and My Grandfather was our leader, and raised us all.
 
He trained us for the day that we see to it that King George was dethroned and run out of England for his criminal ways. “Since he refuses to leave the American's alone, and will not agree to surrender willingly… we have been tempted to use force.”
 
“We have killed many of the red-coats, and captured many more that we have banished out to sea, but we refuse to rest until the very last cruel British loyalist is banished from this country.”
 
“That is why we are here…”
 
James and Henri were both amazed, but Sarah are Mrs. Radcliffe were both Livid with anger and shock. “You wish to kill our own kind?!” growled Mrs. Radcliffe, “You should all be beheaded!”
 
“I agree…” Sarah said. “Can't you see how all this fighting will only lead to more Chaos and madness?”
 
“They had they chance…” protested Donius. “Now it is too late. We are not proud for our actions as we too once were a peaceful band of people, but now… if it the only way to end this war, then so be it.”
 
James and Henri didn't know what to say about any of this. “A story of sadness, and bitter vengeance. It just can't be put into words.” James said as he tried to take notes.
 
“It most certainly can…” Sarah said. “Wanted murderers, big reward.”
 
“Sarah! Stop it…” snapped Henri.
 
Sarah couldn't believe what Henri had just said. “You mean you actually agree to their terms?”
 
“Maybe I do… maybe I do not… but the bring up a good point. It is time someone taught that awful King George a lesson.”
 
Sarah was more livid than ever, but she also finally pieced the puzzle together. “The Man in the mask…” she muttered. “It… it was you! You were the one who killed my cousin Tom!”
 
Tears of anger and sadness spread down her face and she immediately began to feel wrong about ever wishing to help me recover, but she noticed that I too was feeling bad for what I had done.
 
“Believe me, Sarah… I too had hoped it would not had come to that, but he left me no choice. If I had known he was your cousin… perhaps I would have let him live, but I did not… and in a sense I am deeply regretful for all the lives I have taken, but you must understand what drove me to it.”
 
Sarah was at a loss for words. The thought of speaking to the man who killed her cousin, and who planned to beat the King, was just too much for her to handle at once. Still… at least she understood why I fought.
 
If anyone had killed her father for crimes he did not commit without questioning, she too would seek vengeance. Perhaps she too felt almost the same as I did.