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Prologue:
Crunching through the leaves, an aged man clutched documents in his hands as he ran through the forest to evade capture from the Windflyers, artificial creatures created to hunt their prey. Which was what he was. The Windflyers flew after the man, their hummingbird like wings doggedly avoiding treetops and leaves. The man stumbled and fell, tripping on a tree root as the documents scattered. He glanced behind him, hearing the Windflyers come ever nearer. He grabbed the papers, and started to mutter an incantation. Hopefully someone will find it. Just as the papers disappeared in a flash of white fire, he heard the inhuman wail of the Windflyer closing on the kill.
Someone hid in the shadows behind the man, making no move to assist. Eyes a brilliant violet, they silently watched the event, unable or unwilling to help. All that could be done was watch.
“Come!” shouted a voice, power radiating in the word. The man who formerly had the documents stood up, facing the voice. He recognizably paled at the one who came before him. “Hello, Professor. Still teaching parlor tricks?” Feet treaded the leaves, shining silver hair reflecting through the patches of moonlight.
“Alexander! I forbade you from using the Arts!” said the Professor, his electric blue eyes narrowed in hostility. Alexander laughed, soft and musical.
“Oh, did you? Well, you’re such an old relic, and it’s time to make way for a new generation.” He slowly took a polished ebony stone from his pocket, smiling. “You see, after you expelled me, I learned a few things. And I made my very own NightStone.”
The Professor was shocked. Just to Use a NightStone would take many Shadow Forces, but making one should cause self-destruction. “You’re a fool! You don’t know the forces you’re playing with!”
Alexander sneered, his placid face gone for an instant. ”No, you’re afraid of power! And those who possess it since you can’t have your own! You have said I was hopeless, foolish, and impure! I’m more pure than the old scum you are!”
The Professor sighed, his face softening. Alexander was a fine student before he turned foul…”Do it then,” he said calmly. “The pages of the book are gone now. I sent them off. So you can’t get them now. Do what you must.”
Alexander froze, now he was the one shocked. He tried to put back a cold expression. “So, you want to die, old man? Why don’t you fight back?”
“You were a good child, Alexander. Kind and honest. Where did that boy go? All I see is this monster you made yourself. Alexander, you can have a second chance if you just repent. Please.” The Professor made no move to get his own weapon, a thin cane hanging at his side, as he looked at the boy.
Alexander bared his teeth, his eyes flaming with golden fire. “It’s because of you! You couldn’t save her! You had the powers! It’s your entire fault!” he shouted. Black energy welled in his hands, fumed by his rage, but he did not attack the old man. “You don’t know pain! I’m going to bring her back, even if you won’t!”
“Alexander, you can’t hold that forever. You must let her go. Julia would’ve wanted that. You can’t bring back what’s lost. And….” The Professor closed his eyes. “I do know pain. Scars heal, but if you keep wounding yourself, it won’t ever.”
“Save me your moral sap!” Alexander spat. “Tell me where you took the papers!”
“I cannot.”
Alexander smirked. “I can always use force to get it out; I dabbled in Creation while I was gone.” The Windflyers came behind him, a crude mix of hummingbird and lion, and all a crimson blood red.
“Alexander, please,” said the Professor quietly. Hate bubbled in the young man’s eyes and he hissed back,
“Die.” The WindFlyers pounced, the Professor didn’t stand a chance and he fell, his blue eyes staring up at the sky, but unable to see it.
Prologue:
Crunching through the leaves, an aged man clutched documents in his hands as he ran through the forest to evade capture from the Windflyers, artificial creatures created to hunt their prey. Which was what he was. The Windflyers flew after the man, their hummingbird like wings doggedly avoiding treetops and leaves. The man stumbled and fell, tripping on a tree root as the documents scattered. He glanced behind him, hearing the Windflyers come ever nearer. He grabbed the papers, and started to mutter an incantation. Hopefully someone will find it. Just as the papers disappeared in a flash of white fire, he heard the inhuman wail of the Windflyer closing on the kill.
Someone hid in the shadows behind the man, making no move to assist. Eyes a brilliant violet, they silently watched the event, unable or unwilling to help. All that could be done was watch.
“Come!” shouted a voice, power radiating in the word. The man who formerly had the documents stood up, facing the voice. He recognizably paled at the one who came before him. “Hello, Professor. Still teaching parlor tricks?” Feet treaded the leaves, shining silver hair reflecting through the patches of moonlight.
“Alexander! I forbade you from using the Arts!” said the Professor, his electric blue eyes narrowed in hostility. Alexander laughed, soft and musical.
“Oh, did you? Well, you’re such an old relic, and it’s time to make way for a new generation.” He slowly took a polished ebony stone from his pocket, smiling. “You see, after you expelled me, I learned a few things. And I made my very own NightStone.”
The Professor was shocked. Just to Use a NightStone would take many Shadow Forces, but making one should cause self-destruction. “You’re a fool! You don’t know the forces you’re playing with!”
Alexander sneered, his placid face gone for an instant. ”No, you’re afraid of power! And those who possess it since you can’t have your own! You have said I was hopeless, foolish, and impure! I’m more pure than the old scum you are!”
The Professor sighed, his face softening. Alexander was a fine student before he turned foul…”Do it then,” he said calmly. “The pages of the book are gone now. I sent them off. So you can’t get them now. Do what you must.”
Alexander froze, now he was the one shocked. He tried to put back a cold expression. “So, you want to die, old man? Why don’t you fight back?”
“You were a good child, Alexander. Kind and honest. Where did that boy go? All I see is this monster you made yourself. Alexander, you can have a second chance if you just repent. Please.” The Professor made no move to get his own weapon, a thin cane hanging at his side, as he looked at the boy.
Alexander bared his teeth, his eyes flaming with golden fire. “It’s because of you! You couldn’t save her! You had the powers! It’s your entire fault!” he shouted. Black energy welled in his hands, fumed by his rage, but he did not attack the old man. “You don’t know pain! I’m going to bring her back, even if you won’t!”
“Alexander, you can’t hold that forever. You must let her go. Julia would’ve wanted that. You can’t bring back what’s lost. And….” The Professor closed his eyes. “I do know pain. Scars heal, but if you keep wounding yourself, it won’t ever.”
“Save me your moral sap!” Alexander spat. “Tell me where you took the papers!”
“I cannot.”
Alexander smirked. “I can always use force to get it out; I dabbled in Creation while I was gone.” The Windflyers came behind him, a crude mix of hummingbird and lion, and all a crimson blood red.
“Alexander, please,” said the Professor quietly. Hate bubbled in the young man’s eyes and he hissed back,
“Die.” The WindFlyers pounced, the Professor didn’t stand a chance and he fell, his blue eyes staring up at the sky, but unable to see it.
Alexander tossed the NightStone up, the Windflyers sucked up like mist. “Humph. Wish he had shown some fight.” But his stomach was churning at his words. He had come so far, learned so much, just to bring Julia, the only one he really cared in the world, back from the Infinite. He failed once again. He sighed, running his fingers through his soft silvery hair. It hurt, like a thorn in his heart. Alexander turned aside, striding off. He needed to move.
As soon as the murderous boy left, the person hidden in the shadows came out, silent tears dropping to the ground. It was a woman, and she laid her head against the dead man’s still chest. “I’m so sorry, Professor Stromtern. I-I was too weak,” she sobbed, guilt and horror at what she had witnessed filling her. He was still warm, but already it was fading. She stood up, rubbing her eyes. “I promise to avenge you, and spread your teachings to all. You were the greatest mentor in the Arts, and I will not be able to pass you. But I promise, in the name of the Earth Mother, that I will do all that I can to make sure you will not die in memory. I swear to it.” As she raised her head to the crystal moon, a baby was born. One that would answer her prayers.
Alexander tossed the NightStone up, the Windflyers sucked up like mist. “Humph. Wish he had shown some fight.” But his stomach was churning at his words. He had come so far, learned so much, just to bring Julia, the only one he really cared in the world, back from the Infinite. He failed once again. He sighed, running his fingers through his soft silvery hair. It hurt, like a thorn in his heart. Alexander turned aside, striding off. He needed to move.
As soon as the murderous boy left, the person hidden in the shadows came out, silent tears dropping to the ground. It was a woman, and she laid her head against the dead man’s still chest. “I’m so sorry, Professor Stromtern. I-I was too weak,” she sobbed, guilt and horror at what she had witnessed filling her. He was still warm, but already it was fading. She stood up, rubbing her eyes. “I promise to avenge you, and spread your teachings to all. You were the greatest mentor in the Arts, and I will not be able to pass you. But I promise, in the name of the Earth Mother, that I will do all that I can to make sure you will not die in memory. I swear to it.” As she raised her head to the crystal moon, a baby was born. One that would answer her prayers.
- by Be My Batman |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 08/19/2013 |
- Skip
- Title: The Dark Arts
- Artist: Be My Batman
- Description: Just read it......
- Date: 08/19/2013
- Tags: dark arts
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