I have absolutely no idea how this got in the fan art section (although I'm not complaining, as I expect it gets more views there). As far as it goes in the MC Forums, I was just writing with a community I know.
Probably could go some other site, but I am not considering it right now. I do not wish to post my story somewhere I will not visit daily, and have few ties to.
The air was slow, sifting through the full branches of the grown trees in the area. Floating loosely in the forest atmosphere, it bounced between leaves before being cut apart by a figure of the small man carrying a glowing sack. Gliding across the loamy dirt floor with ease, Jharak ran onwards even as the sun began to trickle through the patchy holes in the overgrowth.
The woods pulsed with life, slowly filling the lazy air with a communal wealth of energy. The little man felt the energy touch his skin, and fill his lungs with every breath.
In such a fulfilling environment, meditation was not needed to remain calm and at peace. In fact, Jharak could not feel the fatigue of running for the last two days, even carrying the boy. He knew it would catch up with him, but for now, he was free.
Yet, a worrying thought pressed him. The slave on his back was much lighter than he'd ever noticed before. While still sprinting through the woods, branches seemingly avoiding to hurt him, he searched Schist's presence to feel his age.
He knew that slaves felt older than they looked, but he was still surprised at the apparent boy's age. As a young teen, one would expect his bones to be long and gangly from his body forcing adolescent growth, like other slaves grow to be, but he retained the size of a twelve year old.
With the life of a slave, Jharak had expected Schist's mind would not be developed, but he maintained the curiosity of someone even younger than twelve. Someone who didn't see the boy's curiosity and control of magic would think of him as stunted, or weak.
The question reverberated in Jharak's head, who is Schist? Who was this boy of many quirks, emotions and physical strangeness?
Still running for many hours through the forest, a journey that would take weeks for any army, Jharak thought over the next leg of the pair's journey. Soon the forest will begin to rise, up into the foothills of the Great Ya'ru ranges. The range spread across most of Eastern Almaria, and was mostly impossible to cross.
There was however, Darius passage, a traversable portion of land that heads straight for Ya'ru springs. Many creatures of legend live on the King's side of the mountain, reminding Jharak why he still has yet to see another soul. Going en-route the passage is a lot safer and faster than heading south around the mountains across the Tepid Desert.
The only other option is to head North to the Kamal'ar basin, which feeds directly into the Loam's Odour bog. Jharak knew he and Schist crossed a thin section of the bog earlier, but up north is where most of the water comes from. Easy passage across the ranges can be found there. It was simply to far away however.
All this time, Schist lay in deep sleep, recuperating in the natural energy of the forest. Even while running, Jharak could feel the trail of energy being drawn towards the boy. No doubt his mind could feel the abundant energy of nature here.
"People of the Steam King cannot feel for nature, so Schist must have been captured into slavery..."
Pondering these answers proved only to create more questions, questions only the Arch Mage can answer. Speaking of which, Jharak realised he could send word to Ya'ru of his arrival, now that he had the forest to help provide power. Slowing down only a portion, he began pulling energy from a groove of I'tren trees, their terracotta red blossoms contrasting the sea of green around them.
He composed a formal greeting and message regarding Schist and information about the empty bottle of elixir the boy still carried. Picturing Ya'ru Springs in his mind, the waves of volcanic water sifting down the great terraces, Aged trees bent whimsically over the water, he let go of his mind to the world around him.
"Send".
With a snap, the information left his head, carried on aether winds towards it's destination. Quickly remembering the message he sent before he lost it all to the winds, he sped up his pace to his previous speed.
The gradient of the terrain began to rise, the trees became thinner, less bushy. Soon all that was left was the view of three peaks in the distance, a river gracefully curving down the side of one and a rich sea of tussock grass spreading on the land between.
---
... With a crack, the Knight lifted his head, his eye's sore from the dusty sleep nestled on them. Stretching inside the suit from his late sleep, he was surprised to see a creature attempt to bite his foot. Without moving from his position, arms still holding the Sword outstretched from overnight, he observed from his limited range a second like creature try and bite the iron boot.
Raising an eyebrow, he recognised the pale lime colour of their wings and long, narrow snout. The tiny Grassland Wyverns looked pitifully small, their bodies easily crushable under his boot.Their curiosity justified them as the young of a Wyvern Queen. Without a notion of nearby threat, the pair pranced and played on the boot, pretend fighting and jumping over Steve's feet.
Mesmerised by the mirthful nature of the pair, he quickly saw they were not simply the uncaring slaughterers he recognized them as. One of them jumped up onto to the hilt of his sword, swinging precariously on the thin blade. It had a noticeable stripe of black down it's torso, and feisty nature, indicating it to be somewhat superior to the one below, hesitating to fly up.
Snapping out of the trance, he realised a Wyvern Queen might think of him as a threat to her young. Still standing as still as possible while the Wyvern on his hand climbed up his shoulder, he scanned the terrain in front of him for the mother.
His range of vision was poor inside his helmet, especially when he did not wish to turn his head. A mother could not be seen out across the field he stood facing last night. Sighing to himself, he knew it was time for him to move on. In the smoothest motion possible, he lowered his arms down, holding the sword in only one hand now. The pair of Wyverrns jumped at the slight hiss of steam, jumping onto the ground behind him.
With careful, deliberate steps, he turned around, facing the pair of still curious reptilians. The dominant creature looked back in curiosity, the other judging it's leader's reaction to help it gauge the situation. Turning towards the forest where Jharak's footprints had left, he took note that the boar carcass was wreaked, with bone and blood decorated by flies lying on the ground.
He stared at the spot in awe for a few seconds, before starting his walk into the forest. Sheathing his sword onto his back, he wondered about the remains. "That must have been a meal for the mother Wyvern. Why did it leave me behind though? And why did it leave it's young?"
Taking a step under the first trees, he felt the presence of something behind him. With a subtle twist of his neck while walking, he observed as the pair followed him through the grass, their bodies blending almost harmoniously into the green.
---
Delving deeper into the forest, the knight was almost out of range from the grass, yet the pair of curious creatures wandered right up to the border. They gazed uneasily at the Knight, who was moving further into the speckled forest, away from the safety of the plains.
They felt a power from the Knight, one which no man in black hide has ever felt of before. All the others felt nasty, and acted nasty too - slaughtering their siblings and their father too. This one... felt unique to the Wyverns.
With it's decision made, the Striped Wyvern skipped towards the man with noisy skin, flapping it's wings to glide up onto his shoulder once more. Delighted, the other one followed, flying after it's leader towards the knight as well.
~~~
Startled at first, Steve glared at the half-dragon gaily riding his shoulder. It flapped it's wings to try and keep balance, occasionally blocking his view. Annoyed by periods of blindness, he tried to grasp the reptiles feet. With an angry *Cooraww!*, the Striped Wyvern relocated on Steve's head.
With the danger of a possible misunderstanding with a Wyvern Queen, he dislocated the flying lizard off his head, and peeled off the second which was clutching the suit's leg. The pair flew off in a ramshackle mash to a dark chocolate coloured branch on a tree.
The pair innocently perched on the branch, leaving the Knight fling his hands to his sides. Bewildered by the unheard of friendliness of the bird-like beasts, he could only ignore them and track the ever-faint trail left in the leaf litter on the floor.
Even as the Knight moved forwards, he could sense the pair behind him, sailing from branch to branch. His heart fell, unable to get rid of them. He hardly wished to confront with their mother in a similar fashion to the hog, or worse, be mortally injured or captured.
As Steve walked through the leafy, open forest, he slowly forgot of the persistent followers, closing the gap between him and the bushels of leaves they hopped to and from. Once almost above his head, the Striped Wyvern coiled itself to pounce, before gliding silently into the air, landing on the steam pack on Steve's back.
Following it's brethren, it was mere seconds before the pair stood proudly on the warm furnace, occasionally one knocking the other back for more foot room on the insulated steam pipes they grasped onto. The extra weight was negligible compared to the suit's power, carrying the stowaway's through spangling meadows and Oakland without so much a hint to their presence.
---
Struck by a fierce beam of light, the man in Suede curled away from the glaring gaze of the mid-afternoon sun. Groggy, he found himself too hot and sweaty inside the blanket the adept had conjured. With a brief look around, he found the mage meditating, cross legged on the stiff grass. His hood was still completely covering his face, the dark cloak seeming to absorb all light that touched it.
Getting out of the aura sleeping roll, he mentally cringed at the sight of the high sun. Wheezing from the clean air, he coughed up black phlegm before facing the mage. "It seems we slept in, nor can I see the trail of that accursed tree man and slave. I ain't sprinting to catch up with them either." Unmoving, the Adept remained on the ground, head bowed.
Standing up, the man in Suede straightened his coat, before wielding his beloved Scythe "Oi! You hearing me? Get out your fire stone and conjure a flying carpet or something! I can pay you extra if you wish at a later date".
Standing up slowly, the adept pulled out his crystal, locked in it's glass orb. It didn't seem as shiny as before. Holding it with elbows extended, he began drawing energy from the crystal, causing it to release a timid glow in the Mage's shadow.
Waiting, the man in Suede stood, running his finger along the outside rim of the blade. He looked up after feeling a breeze draw towards the adept, who's cloak was flapping around his feet. Interested, he watched as energy collected inside the orb.
Despite the energy between his palms, the mage's hood continued to shroud his face. The faintest idea crossed Eryk's mind over what the Adept might look like. It only just occurred to him that he still has not seen his face.
Unceremoniously, the glow ceased. The gust slowed to a stop as well. Watching the mage in anticipation, the man in Suede took a deep breath.
...
Without a noise, the mage shook his head. Maintaining his composure, the man in Suede looked around, even taking a full view behind him to see if anything had even been done. "So, you didn't even do anything?"
Once again the mage shook his head negatively. The pure, simplicity of such a gesture made Eryk's blood boil, clench his muscles and burnish his ever reddening skin.
"Right, that' is IT! Stop screwing around with me mage, let me do this myself!"
With no warning, Eryk snagged the orb off the adept. He knew enough about fire stone to know they didn't need charging, but can fire their energy instantly. The mage let out a high pitch squeal, but it was too late.
Holding up the orb, glowing with intent and energy sparking out, he Imagined his slave. With an uproar of heartless laugh as he raised the now crimson glowing Scythe. "Give me a Portal to Schist!"
Swiping through the Schist in his mind with his Scythe, a ragged crack exploded with blue fire in space. The glass orb in his hand glowed fiercely, before snapping partially apart. Tapping the vibrant blue portal open more with his Scythe, he stepped into the black void in space. Flames quickly sprouted around the rim of the portal as it began to close.
Hesitating, the mage jumped in after. Drawing power so fast with such little practice or skill results in unpredictable side effects. It closed with a clap, re-sealing the world in a burst of fire, setting ablaze to the grass a second time.
"That Scythe must be able to control magic extremely well... I must get it back as soon as possible."
---
Walking tentatively over a flattened stone outcrop at the front of her cave, a Great Wyvern Queen grew worried for her children. Instincts told her something wasn't right, and they would have returned from eating and playing by now.
Preparing herself for flight, she looked out over the vast tussock plains in hope her children were returning. Although the cave offered no vantage point directly at the base of the mountain, the foothills below were at a brutal incline, which provided a good lookout anyway.
Quickly scanning the horizon, she spotted nothing, although she did see a human form walking out to the mountain. It did not look like the evil black ones, so there was no cause for alarm.
Without warning, a dreaded ripping noise emitted across the foothills, frightenning the Queen into flight from her cave. Two men thudded onto the ground not far from her nest, one wielding a glimmering weapon. Screeching into the air, she gave away the position of her intruders to all in the ranges, before flying off over the forest afar.
---
Hiking up the grated hillside, covered in knurls of hard soil and lumpy stones, Jharak could see the pass dead ahead. It would be another day's walk, but he was nearly at Ya'ru Springs. Schist stirred occasionally in his sleep, but didn't seem to want to wake up. In maybe half an hour's time, he will be able to stop at Draco pool, aptly named for the various draconic species which drank there.
Save the occasional bee or fly, the whole area was devoid of life. Jharak almost stopped for a minute rest, before hearing a muted rip, like a saw through thick wool. Unable to see well from his position, he was only alerted to danger by a freaked Wyvern, fleeing down into the Forest he just came from.
The ripping sound reminded him of a badly executed teleport, one of extreme energy costs. It also meant someone wishes to fight.
"Schist, wake up. It's time we test your magic once more."
Thank you by the way, it's nice to have this thread bumped in between story posts. Do we need a list of the parts linked on the first page? And what about the title: it looks a bit generic right now. I have something in mind, but I'm unsure whether to change it or not.
Soaring past trees and thickets, Schist looked down as the world flowed behind him. Blossoms and petals littered his wake, leaving a refreshing trail of fragrance over the forest. Swinging down past trunk and stem, vine and bush, he felt the beat of the forest pulse on his skin.
Deep, and blessing, the energy coursed through his body like he had never felt before. It was nature's gift, the feeling of life as a whole. A complex, network of spirits to attain a simple, shared enjoyment. Unable to put these feelings to words, Schist just revelled in the sensations of the world around him. What was black and white, coal and smoke, became something more.
Colour, everywhere! The beetles, the butterflys, the bees! Brilliant pink and orange flowers, the names of which he may never know, but were there, contributing. He absorbed the world as if he were awake, while carried by Jharak. His inner-self saw clearly the world around him, even if his mortal one's were blemished and stained from his past.
Then all too soon, he began to fall. Lower, slower, he gently landed on a soft, silky material. Opening his eyes, he found himself bouncing around on Jharak's back. Slung over in a sack of aura, Schist looked out at the greeny-brown tussock hillside, with the forest he so longed to join once more just beyond.
"Finally, it seems you have some sleep deprivation issues... No, don't worry about what I just said, but get up now, I'm sure someone is uphill over that ridge."
With a bump, Jharak lowered the sack onto the ground, letting Schist stand to stretch his back. It was aching from both yesterdays run, but also from the relaxing sleep as well. A strange sensation, if he could describe it.
Whispering, the blanket disintegrated and reformed as a bow in Jharak's hand. With the other, he delved into a pocket of his mud stained tunic, pulling out a cash bag. Opening it, he pulled out Schist's fire stone. It's blackness shone like obsidian in the sun as it was placed in the former slave's hand.
"Use it wisely, and follow my lead. We cannot reveal ourselves without risking our lives. Quickly, to the ground!"
Falling silently, Jharak hugged the ground, the dried silt on his back blending him in flawlessly into the ground. Schist attempted to do similar, his lithe body hard to spot anyway.
---
Turning himself over, the man in Suede removed his face from the prickly alpine growth stuck to his face. Clinging desperately to his Scythe, skin white, he committed between his legs. The world shifted in his vision, allowing him to drunkenly view the mage dry-retch at his own patch of grass.
The tough plant-life obscured his immediate vision, and the hillside's gravity did not help his nausea. Attempting to stand up, he could only lean on the Hearth-wood shaft of his weapon while the world reeled in front of him.
A ringing in his ears disorientated him further, unable to hear his own disorganised grunts and the slushing of vomit on his boots. Looking up from his second puke, he saw a huge mountain range. His vision was drawn upwards, before vertigo installed and his knee's buckled, lowering him into his own acids.
Laughing manically, the mage was fairing much better, but the sight of such a prestigious man rolling in his regurgitated summoned bread proved to much. With an abnormally high pitch laugh, the adept could only roll painfully down the hill a few metres, running over the angular and sharp fire stone once contained in his orb.
He stopped short only to pull the cloak back over himself, which almost fell back past his face. Standing up, he walked back over to the jewel lying on the ground. He tried to gauge how much energy had been used, but it was too hard with the image twirling slightly in his vision.
Standing up fully, the man in Suede came to his bearings, luckily after the mage had stopped laughing. With a limping step, he took a glance at his surroundings.
A brilliant green line polluted the way downhill, and fearsome mountains lay behind. The land between looked ok, but was too steep for industry. There was no sign of life, not counting the fleeing monster in the sky.
"sch.. Schist. Schist! Where are you, you worthless bag of meat! I have a little piece luxury I've been wishing to show you!"
"Ahh Yes, the hunt is on!"
Behind him, the Mage grew worried. His every emotion was banished by the adepts garme, hidden under the cloth but still existent. He had not been expecting such an anger to be provoked in the man. Even as Eryk began to wander down the hill, his natural energy was dark, laced with raw, fiery anger.
His anger filled the magical capacity of the precious Scythe, generating more danger from the otherwise weak man. Some of the ambient energy from him wafted over the fire stone, being absorbed into the gem.
"Still, let's see how Jharak and Schist cope. I'm sure both their magic is strong enough."
---
Shivering on the ground, Schist recognised the voice of his Master, now hunting across the hillside. He could only just see up the hillside from his position, but no one crossed his vision.
"Come out Schist, I heard you have a tree hugger for a friend. I'd love to meet him... Perhaps we can negotiate a trade? Slave trade is profitable for both sides, you know..."
The child gripped tightly to his stone, terrified by his master's smooth, yet edgy voice. He flinched when he felt a hand on his arm, before realising it was Jharak. The contact, if brief, was reassuring. Taking his hand back, the master bowman conjured an arrow, and began to tighten the draw string.
"Tell you what, Schist, how about you give yourself up to me, and I let the tree man live? How's that sound? Even better, Jharak, force the boy here and I'll reward you. I love a struggling prey..."
His head rose over the tops of the grassy brush, his narrow, snide face gleamed with a demonic passion, and controlled blood-lust. Jharak took aim with his bow on it's side, the arrow glowing brightly in it's slot.
"Schist... One last chance..."
His gaze swept over the grassy patches on the hillside, Schist's lungs unable to draw air in fear, blood pounding.
Their eye's connected.
*TWANG*
The light arrow flew true towards the man's head, but Eryk's Scythe - embodied in rage, deflected the attack with a smoky grey shield.
Surprised at the sudden arrow attack, he almost lost grip of his Scythe. Taking hold of the advantage, Jharak leapt up from the dirt, the bow spliting into a pair of daggers.
"You cannot harm Schist!"
With a fury of swipes, Jharak attacked in close combat - too close for the range of the Scythe. The smoky shield reverberated with every strike, even as Eryk blocked the attacks with the Hearthwood handle of his weapon.
*Huugh!* Pushing the tree man back, he made a wide swing with the narrow blade. Dodging, Jharak let the weapon continue past, throwing the man off balance. With a roar, one of the daggers stabbed through the shield, disintegrating it into a thick cloud of smoke.
Schist looked at the fast paced action, helplessness crawling into his mind. Clutching the fire stone, he remembered the plume he summoned yesterday. He didn't want to hurt Jharak, but the cloud hid everything.
"Uh, push my master away!"
Schist felt the energy draw from his stone. A light flared up within the cloud, followed by a blinding flash.
*Poof!*
With a muted bang, Eryk flew backwards out of the cloud, bits of his overcoat on fire. Rolling down the hill, he stopped partway down on his knees.
Coughing, Jharak crawled out of the foul smoke, which was reluctant to dissipate. Both warriors stood up, Jharak now with a height advantage uphill.
Schist felt glad for a second, until Eryk looked right at him, eyes dark with a glaze. He screamed murder, running with the Scythe gleaming over his head, held two-handed.
Sensing the danger, Jharak morphed the daggers into a bow again, and rained aura on the psychopath. Arrows struck into his body and arms, but did little to halt his charge.
Almost crushing his rock, Schist tried to think of magic to use. He remembered the plume, clear in his mind. With no other choices, he used his instinct.
"Fire! Give me fire!"
Jharak and the mage were stunned by the slaves actions. With a spark, two plumes of fire spread from his palms into the sky. Eryk stopped mid-charge, his slave holding fire like a man in a Flamer suit. Pausing to think before running the last ten metres, Schist grinned like a mischievous school kid.
Rotating his palms, the plumes of fire spread out towards his former master, who shrank back in fear.
"No, Schist, stop that now. Stop. You are my Slave, you are a traitor of the King. It is my right to deal with you as I please. So lower your hands, now."
Ignoring the garbage he was saying, Schist walked slowly towards Eryk, who was now panicking. He swung his Scythe, but it was outreached by almost twice it's length. Burnt on the wrists, he could only back away from the advancing flames.
"Ok ok, You can stop now, you have shown your point. You are a good controller of magic, so how about I see if you can become a learned scribe? or a messenger? Anything! Stop it Runt!"
Jharak, although drawn to the strange fight between the man and child, could not help notice the mage standing next to him. With quick reflexes, he created knives again, and poised himself in a defence stance. The adept looked at him crouched near the ground, before pulling one of the dark sleeves of his cloak back.
...Jharak bowed, before recreating his prized elder bow. He was at ease with such a mage next to him. They might not get along well, but at least they were on the same side.
Advancing on Eryk, Schist felt a strange sense of revenge creeping into his mind. It felt good to put fear into his enemy's hearts, but he knew that somehow, he will be punished for it. It was not Schist's choice however, for the fire stone to crumble under it's intense usage, cracking under the extreme effects of the accelerator he had drunk.
*Piiff*
The flames puffed out of existence, with not a trace of smog to account for their being. At first, the man in Suede was reluctant to see what happened, but sensed the dismay from Schist as he tried to rekindle his palms.
"Aha! You did that involuntarily didn't you? Seems I won't have to hold up my side of the bargain eh?"
Jharak almost released a powerful arrow then, but the mage placed a pale hand on his shoulder. Even with the cloak, they understood each other. Walking forwards to Eryk, the adept shed the cloak off.
Mouth open to gloat, Eryk was about to speak again when he saw the adept fling the black shroud to the ground. Astonished, he wasn't able to think momentarily.
Now standing in front of him, a Lady in a flowing silver silk tunic held the shaped fire stone. With pulsing grey runes lighting up with a mystical cyan glow littered all over her garments, it was a miracle her clothing lay hidden under the thick cloak, until this very moment where it was removed.
Completely mystified, Eyrk could only watch as she bowed her head on the black crystal in her white, slender hands.
"I am a Dragon, able to purge evil from this one's mind."
Schist and Jharak both heard her speak in their minds, but the man in Suede made no indication he had heard. Losing patience with the woman in front of him, he held his scythe in a swinging position.
"Right, mage, are you changing sides? I've got an itch for carving right now. And why are those clothes familiar, I feel like i've seen them before."
Gently, a pair of delicate white wings spread from her back, lifting her into the air with a flap. Morphing into a four-legged, twisting dragon of cobalt aura, she soon became semi-solid to the onlooker's eye's. Landing softly onto the ground, the crystal floated inside the aura-dragon's head. It smiled warmly at Eryk.
"I am the Arch Mage of Ya'ru, ready to re-match. Rather than attack the sick, innocent and captive, lets make a change and fight someone higher than you. Care to lose?"
As I shall, Minecraft still recuperating from being simultaneously updated and moving to a new server.
By the way, whoever voted one, thank you for being truthful. If you want, PM me, and tell me why the story was so bad. I'm always up for some constructive criticism :biggrin.gif:
Walking under the full, vibrant forest, the Knight was unconcerned by the happy pair riding his shoulders. He had long since given up removing them, in hope that the mother might not be aggressive.
The day travel was reasonably slow. The air was moist with dew from the healthy trees, and generally felt like a good place to be, which didn't help with the Knight's pace keeping. Throughout the whole forest, Steve had only seen the occasional deer and twistle bird near creeks.
Such a habitat should have a large number of animals, especially since many monstrous creatures live in the area. Perhaps they live mostly off one another, like the wyvern's and the huge boar? But that hardly seems to be sustainable, something must keep them alive.
*COORRAAAWWW*
Suddenly alert, the Knight pulled out his great blade and looked to the skies. Although the trees partially blocked his view, the Queen's underbelly was a bright orange, stating her arrival. She flew over, apparently unaware of her young being right under her.
Watching her start to fly out of vision, the Knight sighed. The Wyvern pair on his shoulders had differing reactions however. Flapping their wings, they quickly rose up above the canopy.
*Coraw! Coraw!**Coraw! Coraw!**Coraw! Coraw!*
Like an alarm going off, a few birds flew into hiding, and a unseen rabbit hopped into it's hole. Cursing the pair, the Knight tried running as fast as the suit allowed. Without a hitch, the young Wyverns continued to follow his scent, perfectly guiding their mother, who had been listening for their cry.
"Blast it! Why do these creatures keep following me!?"
Bursting out into an open meadow, the Knight cursed his bad luck once more. Standing ready for a challenge, he watched as the Queen lowered herself into the field, her powerful wings causing tremors of wind across the grass.
She stood up, head high, wings still spread open, but behind her back. The young flew down in a uncoordinated rabble, landing either side of her feet. After recovering, they stood in a similar position.
The three stood, expectantly, watching the Knight. Feeling awkward under the gaze of three apparently intelligent beasts, he was unsure what to do. The little Wyvern with no stripe let out a 'yip' and straightened itself more. He remembered from watching the pair that often the weaker one would mimic the elders.
"The Queen wants me to show her respect. Why? Why not kill me, and eat me?"
*Coraw!*
The other Wyvern rustled it's wings a bit, and stood strighter itself. They obviously wanted some response.
Still unsure, the Knight lowered his weapon, before slotting it over his back. Placing his feet together, he looked up into the Queen's eye's.
Her narrow snout was like that of her children, the citric orange of her underside reminding him the stricken fruit farmers tried to grow unsuccessful on the barren lands around most cities. Straightening his own back, he placed his hands by his sides, attempting to mimic the Queen.
She nodded her huge snout, before spreading her wings wide. The underside's were a subtle shade lighter than her skin, probably from the light penetrating the thin membrane.
"Did she... just nod at me? In approval?"
With only a *raa*, she raised her wings more, putting emphasis onto her position. Her young took the same posture, still just as curious to see if the man would mimic them back.
Raising his arms, palms out, Steve tried to show himself to have wings of sorts. With another nod, the Queen raised herself onto one foot, wings out, balancing perfectly. The young copied with some trouble, one falling over.
Deciding not to doubt, the Knight followed, raising himself on one foot with ease in his suit.
Lunging out forwards, the Queen raked the air with her claws out front of her. The young followed behind, lastly by the Knight, swinging his sword out from his sheath ahead of him.
Jumping up into the air, the Queen attacked the ground with her right foot talons, using the other to bounce backwards. Copying the move, Steve power jumped off the ground by a metre, before slamming his sword deep into the dirt, and lunging back away from the trapped sword.
Continuing the aerial display, she hopped into the air, flipping, and landing on one foot. Without hesitation, the Knight took a running jump, leaping over his sword. Grabbing the hilt as he passed, he used it to flip himself, pounding onto the ground in a battle worthy stance, sword ready out front.
The pair of Wyverns had long since stopped copying, unable to complete their Queen's moves. Watching the display, they were at awe of both their parent, and the man they have decided to call their guardian.
With a roar, the Queen placed herself low to the ground, wings splayed out with fangs exposed. With his own war cry, the Knight swung his arms back, cutting the air to shreds. Invigorated by the 'fight', the Knight swung his sword in an 'X' out front of him. Copying him, the Wyvern struck the air twice in succession.
Pausing, Steve looked up at the Wyvern, who was watching back intently. Experimentally, he stood with his feet together, arms by his sides. The Queen portrayed the action with her starting move - wings back behind, head high.
With understanding of each other, they bowed, man and beast. The pair of young Wyverns yelped with glee, before landing on his shoulders again.
"But why would I be of interest to a family of Wyverns? My civilisation has only ever slaughtered them, and spoke of their ferocity, never their beauty."
Stepping back a bit, he realised he had lost his way. He could not remember where Jharak's tracks separated of his own. Back-tracking, he attempted to find his way, to find the Queen weaving through the forest behind him, uprooting the occasional small tree.
"Gah! Now you're following? Can't you track or something? I mean, you're not a pet!"
The Queen looked back quizzically, head slanted on it's side.
"Oh, and are you listening to my thoughts as well? Great! And how are you doing that? Huh?"
---
Watching the man babble in his language, the Queen could feel his confusion at the situation. Sending back a feeling of comfort, she made a guilty face, hoping to ease their guardian. As she assumed, the man quickly calmed down, and resumed normal behaviour walking up and down his own track.
Soon, their guardian began to feel anxious, wandering back over the same track once more. Sighting footprints diverging off his own, she realised this must be his prey. With a verbal growl, she ordered her young male forward along the track, who responded quickly.
Yelping for his guardian's attention, the striped Wyvern hopped and danced on the ground, and was quickly followed by his sister. The guardian stopped, giving off an annoyed feeling as he watched the children apparently play.
The Queen further pressed her youth to run along the path, certain the Knight would notice it. Taking off, the pair took flight along the route. More confusion arose from their guardian, until sudden joy sprang from him.
---
"Oh! You found the footprints, Good job. So you can all track then."
The pair of youth flew back to his shoulders, while the Queen stayed close behind. Walking underneath the crowns of tree's both great and young, Steve tried not to think of the fanged Wyvern looming behind him, the pair of wings capable of blinding him at any time either side, and the fact that eventually, they may get hungry...
---
"A dragon... a dragon... where did I see this from!? I've seen a demon like this before!"
Eryk stood, his Scythe glistening in the noon sun, which had just begun to fall from it's place overhead. Wheezing, he spat out another glob of tar, his lungs aching for a puff of his pipe at the moment.
"You speak nonsense mage! I know inside all that magic that you are just a traitor, most likely a spy of the tree man! What you say is utter garbage, and I will never lament the day I accepted your challenge!"
Dark energy vibrated from the man, pulsing as much as the forest did with energy. It was worrying to both Jharak and the Arch Mage, as although he could not control it well, his Weapon could. Schist shivered in fear, the dark energy reminding him of his so recent past.
"Well then Eryk, it is time we battled once more. Leave us Schist, Jharak. I will deal to him properly. You may continue to the Ya'ru. Sweet travels to you."
Walking backwards up the hill, Schist rejoined Jharak as they walked to the gap between two mountains - Darius Pass. Even as he walked away, he could see the glimmer of dusk in his Master's eye's. This will not be the last they meet.
---
"Shall we get started mage? I'd rather we finished this quickly so I can cut loose ends by this evening."
"As you wish. You won't even see me coming."
Tensely, the pair watched each other. The dragon had a slight hill advantage, and could fly. On the other hand, she probably couldn't hold her form for very long as the crystal would run out.
With this in mind, the Dragon struck first. Pounding the ground, a flurry of water spread from the dragon's claws, slicking the arena with mud. Slipping around on the shallow layer of muck, the man tried to stay balanced as the dragon rose into the air.
With a sharp thrust forward, his enemy tried to claw off Eryk's head, blocked only by the Scythe. Before he could turn, a second swipe attacked from the back, forcing him to lunge into the mud. Bearing down, the dragon's claws latched around the staff of the Scythe as he turned, being the only barrier between claw and cloth.
The dragon landed it's back legs, trying to push the weapon from the man's grasp. Exclaiming his power, Eryk twisted the weapon to his side, the pressure asserted by the dragon lodging it into the mud. Without warning, the dragon lost all it's grip, crashing down the hill without the artifact in it's grasp.
Stepping up in the slippery conditions, Eryk pulled the slimy weapon from a tangle of ripped grass, and slid downhill towards the dragon. Unable to right itself on the ground, the dragon began to fly it's way out of trouble. Before it could rise fully, the Scythe sliced through the torso, pouring blue aura out into the world.
Screeching, the dragon tore uphill, landing at the base of the mountain. Sapping the gem's strength, she sealed the wound before the mana could leak itself out. She only had a few minutes left, so must act fast. Hopping into the air, the dragon swang left and right, flying haphazardly down the hill.
Trying to block with the narrow band of wood, the man's Suede coat sleeve was ripped to shreds by the claws of his foe as it flew past at great speed. Superficial wounds leaked blood on his arm, the red blending into the drying mud. Looking downhill, the dragon had stopped, and began to call water to it's hands.
Summoning his own magic, he remembered his slave. He was escaping, because of this demon which insisted on challenging him. It must be destroyed. His weapon shone darkly, black fire wafting off the blade like smoke off tinder.
Racing downhill towards the forest, with the dragon in front, he readied his Scythe, it's edge simmering with energy. Seeing the man charge downhill, the mage began releasing compressed balls of water. Firing in quick succession, the first few slammed into the hillside, but the remainder pummelled the man.
Blinded and shell shocked, pain coursed through his ears, while the mud re-slickened beneath his feet. Completely unable to sense anything properly, he rolled down hill, past the dragon onto the leafy floor of the forest. He tried to rise, but the charged weapon was wrenched from his hands.
Before he could even shout out, the dragon cut a portal in space with the remainder of it's energy, sapping the dark strength of the Scythe as well. Flinging the man inside, she knew he would be at the office, flung out onto his table. As the portal closed itself, she morphed back into a human form, the large fire stone dull, and unusable.
Stamping out the blue fire released from the teleport, she walked uphill, ignoring the mess of uprooted grass and mud as she headed onwards to Darius pass herself.
A simple suggestion on geology here.
~~~
Slaves of the Coal Mine
An interesting Novel to pass the time.
Probably could go some other site, but I am not considering it right now. I do not wish to post my story somewhere I will not visit daily, and have few ties to.
1750 words btw.
A simple suggestion on geology here.
~~~
Slaves of the Coal Mine
An interesting Novel to pass the time.
The woods pulsed with life, slowly filling the lazy air with a communal wealth of energy. The little man felt the energy touch his skin, and fill his lungs with every breath.
In such a fulfilling environment, meditation was not needed to remain calm and at peace. In fact, Jharak could not feel the fatigue of running for the last two days, even carrying the boy. He knew it would catch up with him, but for now, he was free.
Yet, a worrying thought pressed him. The slave on his back was much lighter than he'd ever noticed before. While still sprinting through the woods, branches seemingly avoiding to hurt him, he searched Schist's presence to feel his age.
He knew that slaves felt older than they looked, but he was still surprised at the apparent boy's age. As a young teen, one would expect his bones to be long and gangly from his body forcing adolescent growth, like other slaves grow to be, but he retained the size of a twelve year old.
With the life of a slave, Jharak had expected Schist's mind would not be developed, but he maintained the curiosity of someone even younger than twelve. Someone who didn't see the boy's curiosity and control of magic would think of him as stunted, or weak.
The question reverberated in Jharak's head, who is Schist? Who was this boy of many quirks, emotions and physical strangeness?
Still running for many hours through the forest, a journey that would take weeks for any army, Jharak thought over the next leg of the pair's journey. Soon the forest will begin to rise, up into the foothills of the Great Ya'ru ranges. The range spread across most of Eastern Almaria, and was mostly impossible to cross.
There was however, Darius passage, a traversable portion of land that heads straight for Ya'ru springs. Many creatures of legend live on the King's side of the mountain, reminding Jharak why he still has yet to see another soul. Going en-route the passage is a lot safer and faster than heading south around the mountains across the Tepid Desert.
The only other option is to head North to the Kamal'ar basin, which feeds directly into the Loam's Odour bog. Jharak knew he and Schist crossed a thin section of the bog earlier, but up north is where most of the water comes from. Easy passage across the ranges can be found there. It was simply to far away however.
All this time, Schist lay in deep sleep, recuperating in the natural energy of the forest. Even while running, Jharak could feel the trail of energy being drawn towards the boy. No doubt his mind could feel the abundant energy of nature here.
"People of the Steam King cannot feel for nature, so Schist must have been captured into slavery..."
Pondering these answers proved only to create more questions, questions only the Arch Mage can answer. Speaking of which, Jharak realised he could send word to Ya'ru of his arrival, now that he had the forest to help provide power. Slowing down only a portion, he began pulling energy from a groove of I'tren trees, their terracotta red blossoms contrasting the sea of green around them.
He composed a formal greeting and message regarding Schist and information about the empty bottle of elixir the boy still carried. Picturing Ya'ru Springs in his mind, the waves of volcanic water sifting down the great terraces, Aged trees bent whimsically over the water, he let go of his mind to the world around him.
"Send".
With a snap, the information left his head, carried on aether winds towards it's destination. Quickly remembering the message he sent before he lost it all to the winds, he sped up his pace to his previous speed.
The gradient of the terrain began to rise, the trees became thinner, less bushy. Soon all that was left was the view of three peaks in the distance, a river gracefully curving down the side of one and a rich sea of tussock grass spreading on the land between.
---
... With a crack, the Knight lifted his head, his eye's sore from the dusty sleep nestled on them. Stretching inside the suit from his late sleep, he was surprised to see a creature attempt to bite his foot. Without moving from his position, arms still holding the Sword outstretched from overnight, he observed from his limited range a second like creature try and bite the iron boot.
Raising an eyebrow, he recognised the pale lime colour of their wings and long, narrow snout. The tiny Grassland Wyverns looked pitifully small, their bodies easily crushable under his boot.Their curiosity justified them as the young of a Wyvern Queen. Without a notion of nearby threat, the pair pranced and played on the boot, pretend fighting and jumping over Steve's feet.
Mesmerised by the mirthful nature of the pair, he quickly saw they were not simply the uncaring slaughterers he recognized them as. One of them jumped up onto to the hilt of his sword, swinging precariously on the thin blade. It had a noticeable stripe of black down it's torso, and feisty nature, indicating it to be somewhat superior to the one below, hesitating to fly up.
Snapping out of the trance, he realised a Wyvern Queen might think of him as a threat to her young. Still standing as still as possible while the Wyvern on his hand climbed up his shoulder, he scanned the terrain in front of him for the mother.
His range of vision was poor inside his helmet, especially when he did not wish to turn his head. A mother could not be seen out across the field he stood facing last night. Sighing to himself, he knew it was time for him to move on. In the smoothest motion possible, he lowered his arms down, holding the sword in only one hand now. The pair of Wyverrns jumped at the slight hiss of steam, jumping onto the ground behind him.
With careful, deliberate steps, he turned around, facing the pair of still curious reptilians. The dominant creature looked back in curiosity, the other judging it's leader's reaction to help it gauge the situation. Turning towards the forest where Jharak's footprints had left, he took note that the boar carcass was wreaked, with bone and blood decorated by flies lying on the ground.
He stared at the spot in awe for a few seconds, before starting his walk into the forest. Sheathing his sword onto his back, he wondered about the remains. "That must have been a meal for the mother Wyvern. Why did it leave me behind though? And why did it leave it's young?"
Taking a step under the first trees, he felt the presence of something behind him. With a subtle twist of his neck while walking, he observed as the pair followed him through the grass, their bodies blending almost harmoniously into the green.
---
Delving deeper into the forest, the knight was almost out of range from the grass, yet the pair of curious creatures wandered right up to the border. They gazed uneasily at the Knight, who was moving further into the speckled forest, away from the safety of the plains.
They felt a power from the Knight, one which no man in black hide has ever felt of before. All the others felt nasty, and acted nasty too - slaughtering their siblings and their father too. This one... felt unique to the Wyverns.
With it's decision made, the Striped Wyvern skipped towards the man with noisy skin, flapping it's wings to glide up onto his shoulder once more. Delighted, the other one followed, flying after it's leader towards the knight as well.
~~~
Startled at first, Steve glared at the half-dragon gaily riding his shoulder. It flapped it's wings to try and keep balance, occasionally blocking his view. Annoyed by periods of blindness, he tried to grasp the reptiles feet. With an angry *Cooraww!*, the Striped Wyvern relocated on Steve's head.
With the danger of a possible misunderstanding with a Wyvern Queen, he dislocated the flying lizard off his head, and peeled off the second which was clutching the suit's leg. The pair flew off in a ramshackle mash to a dark chocolate coloured branch on a tree.
The pair innocently perched on the branch, leaving the Knight fling his hands to his sides. Bewildered by the unheard of friendliness of the bird-like beasts, he could only ignore them and track the ever-faint trail left in the leaf litter on the floor.
Even as the Knight moved forwards, he could sense the pair behind him, sailing from branch to branch. His heart fell, unable to get rid of them. He hardly wished to confront with their mother in a similar fashion to the hog, or worse, be mortally injured or captured.
As Steve walked through the leafy, open forest, he slowly forgot of the persistent followers, closing the gap between him and the bushels of leaves they hopped to and from. Once almost above his head, the Striped Wyvern coiled itself to pounce, before gliding silently into the air, landing on the steam pack on Steve's back.
Following it's brethren, it was mere seconds before the pair stood proudly on the warm furnace, occasionally one knocking the other back for more foot room on the insulated steam pipes they grasped onto. The extra weight was negligible compared to the suit's power, carrying the stowaway's through spangling meadows and Oakland without so much a hint to their presence.
---
Struck by a fierce beam of light, the man in Suede curled away from the glaring gaze of the mid-afternoon sun. Groggy, he found himself too hot and sweaty inside the blanket the adept had conjured. With a brief look around, he found the mage meditating, cross legged on the stiff grass. His hood was still completely covering his face, the dark cloak seeming to absorb all light that touched it.
Getting out of the aura sleeping roll, he mentally cringed at the sight of the high sun. Wheezing from the clean air, he coughed up black phlegm before facing the mage. "It seems we slept in, nor can I see the trail of that accursed tree man and slave. I ain't sprinting to catch up with them either." Unmoving, the Adept remained on the ground, head bowed.
Standing up, the man in Suede straightened his coat, before wielding his beloved Scythe "Oi! You hearing me? Get out your fire stone and conjure a flying carpet or something! I can pay you extra if you wish at a later date".
Standing up slowly, the adept pulled out his crystal, locked in it's glass orb. It didn't seem as shiny as before. Holding it with elbows extended, he began drawing energy from the crystal, causing it to release a timid glow in the Mage's shadow.
Waiting, the man in Suede stood, running his finger along the outside rim of the blade. He looked up after feeling a breeze draw towards the adept, who's cloak was flapping around his feet. Interested, he watched as energy collected inside the orb.
Despite the energy between his palms, the mage's hood continued to shroud his face. The faintest idea crossed Eryk's mind over what the Adept might look like. It only just occurred to him that he still has not seen his face.
Unceremoniously, the glow ceased. The gust slowed to a stop as well. Watching the mage in anticipation, the man in Suede took a deep breath.
...
Without a noise, the mage shook his head. Maintaining his composure, the man in Suede looked around, even taking a full view behind him to see if anything had even been done. "So, you didn't even do anything?"
Once again the mage shook his head negatively. The pure, simplicity of such a gesture made Eryk's blood boil, clench his muscles and burnish his ever reddening skin.
"Right, that' is IT! Stop screwing around with me mage, let me do this myself!"
With no warning, Eryk snagged the orb off the adept. He knew enough about fire stone to know they didn't need charging, but can fire their energy instantly. The mage let out a high pitch squeal, but it was too late.
Holding up the orb, glowing with intent and energy sparking out, he Imagined his slave. With an uproar of heartless laugh as he raised the now crimson glowing Scythe. "Give me a Portal to Schist!"
Swiping through the Schist in his mind with his Scythe, a ragged crack exploded with blue fire in space. The glass orb in his hand glowed fiercely, before snapping partially apart. Tapping the vibrant blue portal open more with his Scythe, he stepped into the black void in space. Flames quickly sprouted around the rim of the portal as it began to close.
Hesitating, the mage jumped in after. Drawing power so fast with such little practice or skill results in unpredictable side effects. It closed with a clap, re-sealing the world in a burst of fire, setting ablaze to the grass a second time.
"That Scythe must be able to control magic extremely well... I must get it back as soon as possible."
---
Walking tentatively over a flattened stone outcrop at the front of her cave, a Great Wyvern Queen grew worried for her children. Instincts told her something wasn't right, and they would have returned from eating and playing by now.
Preparing herself for flight, she looked out over the vast tussock plains in hope her children were returning. Although the cave offered no vantage point directly at the base of the mountain, the foothills below were at a brutal incline, which provided a good lookout anyway.
Quickly scanning the horizon, she spotted nothing, although she did see a human form walking out to the mountain. It did not look like the evil black ones, so there was no cause for alarm.
Without warning, a dreaded ripping noise emitted across the foothills, frightenning the Queen into flight from her cave. Two men thudded onto the ground not far from her nest, one wielding a glimmering weapon. Screeching into the air, she gave away the position of her intruders to all in the ranges, before flying off over the forest afar.
---
Hiking up the grated hillside, covered in knurls of hard soil and lumpy stones, Jharak could see the pass dead ahead. It would be another day's walk, but he was nearly at Ya'ru Springs. Schist stirred occasionally in his sleep, but didn't seem to want to wake up. In maybe half an hour's time, he will be able to stop at Draco pool, aptly named for the various draconic species which drank there.
Save the occasional bee or fly, the whole area was devoid of life. Jharak almost stopped for a minute rest, before hearing a muted rip, like a saw through thick wool. Unable to see well from his position, he was only alerted to danger by a freaked Wyvern, fleeing down into the Forest he just came from.
The ripping sound reminded him of a badly executed teleport, one of extreme energy costs. It also meant someone wishes to fight.
~~~
Part Seven!
A simple suggestion on geology here.
~~~
Slaves of the Coal Mine
An interesting Novel to pass the time.
I used to have toes
Oh, and starting the next part now :3
A simple suggestion on geology here.
~~~
Slaves of the Coal Mine
An interesting Novel to pass the time.
I WANT BOOK PUBLISHED NOW.
BOOKMARKED.
CAPS LOCK BROKEN.
SPELLING BROKEN.
GRAMMAR BROKEN.
NO CARE. THIS IS GOOD BOOK.
A simple suggestion on geology here.
~~~
Slaves of the Coal Mine
An interesting Novel to pass the time.
Deep, and blessing, the energy coursed through his body like he had never felt before. It was nature's gift, the feeling of life as a whole. A complex, network of spirits to attain a simple, shared enjoyment. Unable to put these feelings to words, Schist just revelled in the sensations of the world around him. What was black and white, coal and smoke, became something more.
Colour, everywhere! The beetles, the butterflys, the bees! Brilliant pink and orange flowers, the names of which he may never know, but were there, contributing. He absorbed the world as if he were awake, while carried by Jharak. His inner-self saw clearly the world around him, even if his mortal one's were blemished and stained from his past.
Then all too soon, he began to fall. Lower, slower, he gently landed on a soft, silky material. Opening his eyes, he found himself bouncing around on Jharak's back. Slung over in a sack of aura, Schist looked out at the greeny-brown tussock hillside, with the forest he so longed to join once more just beyond.
"Finally, it seems you have some sleep deprivation issues... No, don't worry about what I just said, but get up now, I'm sure someone is uphill over that ridge."
With a bump, Jharak lowered the sack onto the ground, letting Schist stand to stretch his back. It was aching from both yesterdays run, but also from the relaxing sleep as well. A strange sensation, if he could describe it.
Whispering, the blanket disintegrated and reformed as a bow in Jharak's hand. With the other, he delved into a pocket of his mud stained tunic, pulling out a cash bag. Opening it, he pulled out Schist's fire stone. It's blackness shone like obsidian in the sun as it was placed in the former slave's hand.
"Use it wisely, and follow my lead. We cannot reveal ourselves without risking our lives. Quickly, to the ground!"
Falling silently, Jharak hugged the ground, the dried silt on his back blending him in flawlessly into the ground. Schist attempted to do similar, his lithe body hard to spot anyway.
---
Turning himself over, the man in Suede removed his face from the prickly alpine growth stuck to his face. Clinging desperately to his Scythe, skin white, he committed between his legs. The world shifted in his vision, allowing him to drunkenly view the mage dry-retch at his own patch of grass.
The tough plant-life obscured his immediate vision, and the hillside's gravity did not help his nausea. Attempting to stand up, he could only lean on the Hearth-wood shaft of his weapon while the world reeled in front of him.
A ringing in his ears disorientated him further, unable to hear his own disorganised grunts and the slushing of vomit on his boots. Looking up from his second puke, he saw a huge mountain range. His vision was drawn upwards, before vertigo installed and his knee's buckled, lowering him into his own acids.
Laughing manically, the mage was fairing much better, but the sight of such a prestigious man rolling in his regurgitated summoned bread proved to much. With an abnormally high pitch laugh, the adept could only roll painfully down the hill a few metres, running over the angular and sharp fire stone once contained in his orb.
He stopped short only to pull the cloak back over himself, which almost fell back past his face. Standing up, he walked back over to the jewel lying on the ground. He tried to gauge how much energy had been used, but it was too hard with the image twirling slightly in his vision.
Standing up fully, the man in Suede came to his bearings, luckily after the mage had stopped laughing. With a limping step, he took a glance at his surroundings.
A brilliant green line polluted the way downhill, and fearsome mountains lay behind. The land between looked ok, but was too steep for industry. There was no sign of life, not counting the fleeing monster in the sky.
"sch.. Schist. Schist! Where are you, you worthless bag of meat! I have a little piece luxury I've been wishing to show you!"
"Ahh Yes, the hunt is on!"
Behind him, the Mage grew worried. His every emotion was banished by the adepts garme, hidden under the cloth but still existent. He had not been expecting such an anger to be provoked in the man. Even as Eryk began to wander down the hill, his natural energy was dark, laced with raw, fiery anger.
His anger filled the magical capacity of the precious Scythe, generating more danger from the otherwise weak man. Some of the ambient energy from him wafted over the fire stone, being absorbed into the gem.
"Still, let's see how Jharak and Schist cope. I'm sure both their magic is strong enough."
---
Shivering on the ground, Schist recognised the voice of his Master, now hunting across the hillside. He could only just see up the hillside from his position, but no one crossed his vision.
"Come out Schist, I heard you have a tree hugger for a friend. I'd love to meet him... Perhaps we can negotiate a trade? Slave trade is profitable for both sides, you know..."
The child gripped tightly to his stone, terrified by his master's smooth, yet edgy voice. He flinched when he felt a hand on his arm, before realising it was Jharak. The contact, if brief, was reassuring. Taking his hand back, the master bowman conjured an arrow, and began to tighten the draw string.
"Tell you what, Schist, how about you give yourself up to me, and I let the tree man live? How's that sound? Even better, Jharak, force the boy here and I'll reward you. I love a struggling prey..."
His head rose over the tops of the grassy brush, his narrow, snide face gleamed with a demonic passion, and controlled blood-lust. Jharak took aim with his bow on it's side, the arrow glowing brightly in it's slot.
His gaze swept over the grassy patches on the hillside, Schist's lungs unable to draw air in fear, blood pounding.
The light arrow flew true towards the man's head, but Eryk's Scythe - embodied in rage, deflected the attack with a smoky grey shield.
Surprised at the sudden arrow attack, he almost lost grip of his Scythe. Taking hold of the advantage, Jharak leapt up from the dirt, the bow spliting into a pair of daggers.
"You cannot harm Schist!"
With a fury of swipes, Jharak attacked in close combat - too close for the range of the Scythe. The smoky shield reverberated with every strike, even as Eryk blocked the attacks with the Hearthwood handle of his weapon.
*Huugh!* Pushing the tree man back, he made a wide swing with the narrow blade. Dodging, Jharak let the weapon continue past, throwing the man off balance. With a roar, one of the daggers stabbed through the shield, disintegrating it into a thick cloud of smoke.
Schist looked at the fast paced action, helplessness crawling into his mind. Clutching the fire stone, he remembered the plume he summoned yesterday. He didn't want to hurt Jharak, but the cloud hid everything.
"Uh, push my master away!"
Schist felt the energy draw from his stone. A light flared up within the cloud, followed by a blinding flash.
*Poof!*
With a muted bang, Eryk flew backwards out of the cloud, bits of his overcoat on fire. Rolling down the hill, he stopped partway down on his knees.
Coughing, Jharak crawled out of the foul smoke, which was reluctant to dissipate. Both warriors stood up, Jharak now with a height advantage uphill.
Schist felt glad for a second, until Eryk looked right at him, eyes dark with a glaze. He screamed murder, running with the Scythe gleaming over his head, held two-handed.
Sensing the danger, Jharak morphed the daggers into a bow again, and rained aura on the psychopath. Arrows struck into his body and arms, but did little to halt his charge.
Almost crushing his rock, Schist tried to think of magic to use. He remembered the plume, clear in his mind. With no other choices, he used his instinct.
"Fire! Give me fire!"
Jharak and the mage were stunned by the slaves actions. With a spark, two plumes of fire spread from his palms into the sky. Eryk stopped mid-charge, his slave holding fire like a man in a Flamer suit. Pausing to think before running the last ten metres, Schist grinned like a mischievous school kid.
Rotating his palms, the plumes of fire spread out towards his former master, who shrank back in fear.
"No, Schist, stop that now. Stop. You are my Slave, you are a traitor of the King. It is my right to deal with you as I please. So lower your hands, now."
Ignoring the garbage he was saying, Schist walked slowly towards Eryk, who was now panicking. He swung his Scythe, but it was outreached by almost twice it's length. Burnt on the wrists, he could only back away from the advancing flames.
"Ok ok, You can stop now, you have shown your point. You are a good controller of magic, so how about I see if you can become a learned scribe? or a messenger? Anything! Stop it Runt!"
Jharak, although drawn to the strange fight between the man and child, could not help notice the mage standing next to him. With quick reflexes, he created knives again, and poised himself in a defence stance. The adept looked at him crouched near the ground, before pulling one of the dark sleeves of his cloak back.
...Jharak bowed, before recreating his prized elder bow. He was at ease with such a mage next to him. They might not get along well, but at least they were on the same side.
Advancing on Eryk, Schist felt a strange sense of revenge creeping into his mind. It felt good to put fear into his enemy's hearts, but he knew that somehow, he will be punished for it. It was not Schist's choice however, for the fire stone to crumble under it's intense usage, cracking under the extreme effects of the accelerator he had drunk.
*Piiff*
The flames puffed out of existence, with not a trace of smog to account for their being. At first, the man in Suede was reluctant to see what happened, but sensed the dismay from Schist as he tried to rekindle his palms.
"Aha! You did that involuntarily didn't you? Seems I won't have to hold up my side of the bargain eh?"
Jharak almost released a powerful arrow then, but the mage placed a pale hand on his shoulder. Even with the cloak, they understood each other. Walking forwards to Eryk, the adept shed the cloak off.
Mouth open to gloat, Eryk was about to speak again when he saw the adept fling the black shroud to the ground. Astonished, he wasn't able to think momentarily.
Now standing in front of him, a Lady in a flowing silver silk tunic held the shaped fire stone. With pulsing grey runes lighting up with a mystical cyan glow littered all over her garments, it was a miracle her clothing lay hidden under the thick cloak, until this very moment where it was removed.
Completely mystified, Eyrk could only watch as she bowed her head on the black crystal in her white, slender hands.
"I am a Dragon, able to purge evil from this one's mind."
Schist and Jharak both heard her speak in their minds, but the man in Suede made no indication he had heard. Losing patience with the woman in front of him, he held his scythe in a swinging position.
"Right, mage, are you changing sides? I've got an itch for carving right now. And why are those clothes familiar, I feel like i've seen them before."
Gently, a pair of delicate white wings spread from her back, lifting her into the air with a flap. Morphing into a four-legged, twisting dragon of cobalt aura, she soon became semi-solid to the onlooker's eye's. Landing softly onto the ground, the crystal floated inside the aura-dragon's head. It smiled warmly at Eryk.
"I am the Arch Mage of Ya'ru, ready to re-match. Rather than attack the sick, innocent and captive, lets make a change and fight someone higher than you. Care to lose?"
~~~
Part Eight!
A simple suggestion on geology here.
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Slaves of the Coal Mine
An interesting Novel to pass the time.
By the way, whoever voted one, thank you for being truthful. If you want, PM me, and tell me why the story was so bad. I'm always up for some constructive criticism :biggrin.gif:
A simple suggestion on geology here.
~~~
Slaves of the Coal Mine
An interesting Novel to pass the time.
Can't wait for the next part =D
I can't wait for the next chapter!!!!
10/5 Notch' for you!
I used to have toes
A simple suggestion on geology here.
~~~
Slaves of the Coal Mine
An interesting Novel to pass the time.
The day travel was reasonably slow. The air was moist with dew from the healthy trees, and generally felt like a good place to be, which didn't help with the Knight's pace keeping. Throughout the whole forest, Steve had only seen the occasional deer and twistle bird near creeks.
Such a habitat should have a large number of animals, especially since many monstrous creatures live in the area. Perhaps they live mostly off one another, like the wyvern's and the huge boar? But that hardly seems to be sustainable, something must keep them alive.
Suddenly alert, the Knight pulled out his great blade and looked to the skies. Although the trees partially blocked his view, the Queen's underbelly was a bright orange, stating her arrival. She flew over, apparently unaware of her young being right under her.
Watching her start to fly out of vision, the Knight sighed. The Wyvern pair on his shoulders had differing reactions however. Flapping their wings, they quickly rose up above the canopy.
*Coraw! Coraw!* *Coraw! Coraw!* *Coraw! Coraw!*
Like an alarm going off, a few birds flew into hiding, and a unseen rabbit hopped into it's hole. Cursing the pair, the Knight tried running as fast as the suit allowed. Without a hitch, the young Wyverns continued to follow his scent, perfectly guiding their mother, who had been listening for their cry.
Bursting out into an open meadow, the Knight cursed his bad luck once more. Standing ready for a challenge, he watched as the Queen lowered herself into the field, her powerful wings causing tremors of wind across the grass.
She stood up, head high, wings still spread open, but behind her back. The young flew down in a uncoordinated rabble, landing either side of her feet. After recovering, they stood in a similar position.
The three stood, expectantly, watching the Knight. Feeling awkward under the gaze of three apparently intelligent beasts, he was unsure what to do. The little Wyvern with no stripe let out a 'yip' and straightened itself more. He remembered from watching the pair that often the weaker one would mimic the elders.
"The Queen wants me to show her respect. Why? Why not kill me, and eat me?"
The other Wyvern rustled it's wings a bit, and stood strighter itself. They obviously wanted some response.
Still unsure, the Knight lowered his weapon, before slotting it over his back. Placing his feet together, he looked up into the Queen's eye's.
Her narrow snout was like that of her children, the citric orange of her underside reminding him the stricken fruit farmers tried to grow unsuccessful on the barren lands around most cities. Straightening his own back, he placed his hands by his sides, attempting to mimic the Queen.
She nodded her huge snout, before spreading her wings wide. The underside's were a subtle shade lighter than her skin, probably from the light penetrating the thin membrane.
With only a *raa*, she raised her wings more, putting emphasis onto her position. Her young took the same posture, still just as curious to see if the man would mimic them back.
Raising his arms, palms out, Steve tried to show himself to have wings of sorts. With another nod, the Queen raised herself onto one foot, wings out, balancing perfectly. The young copied with some trouble, one falling over.
Deciding not to doubt, the Knight followed, raising himself on one foot with ease in his suit.
Lunging out forwards, the Queen raked the air with her claws out front of her. The young followed behind, lastly by the Knight, swinging his sword out from his sheath ahead of him.
Jumping up into the air, the Queen attacked the ground with her right foot talons, using the other to bounce backwards. Copying the move, Steve power jumped off the ground by a metre, before slamming his sword deep into the dirt, and lunging back away from the trapped sword.
Continuing the aerial display, she hopped into the air, flipping, and landing on one foot. Without hesitation, the Knight took a running jump, leaping over his sword. Grabbing the hilt as he passed, he used it to flip himself, pounding onto the ground in a battle worthy stance, sword ready out front.
The pair of Wyverns had long since stopped copying, unable to complete their Queen's moves. Watching the display, they were at awe of both their parent, and the man they have decided to call their guardian.
With a roar, the Queen placed herself low to the ground, wings splayed out with fangs exposed. With his own war cry, the Knight swung his arms back, cutting the air to shreds. Invigorated by the 'fight', the Knight swung his sword in an 'X' out front of him. Copying him, the Wyvern struck the air twice in succession.
Pausing, Steve looked up at the Wyvern, who was watching back intently. Experimentally, he stood with his feet together, arms by his sides. The Queen portrayed the action with her starting move - wings back behind, head high.
With understanding of each other, they bowed, man and beast. The pair of young Wyverns yelped with glee, before landing on his shoulders again.
"But why would I be of interest to a family of Wyverns? My civilisation has only ever slaughtered them, and spoke of their ferocity, never their beauty."
Stepping back a bit, he realised he had lost his way. He could not remember where Jharak's tracks separated of his own. Back-tracking, he attempted to find his way, to find the Queen weaving through the forest behind him, uprooting the occasional small tree.
"Gah! Now you're following? Can't you track or something? I mean, you're not a pet!"
The Queen looked back quizzically, head slanted on it's side.
"Oh, and are you listening to my thoughts as well? Great! And how are you doing that? Huh?"
---
Watching the man babble in his language, the Queen could feel his confusion at the situation. Sending back a feeling of comfort, she made a guilty face, hoping to ease their guardian. As she assumed, the man quickly calmed down, and resumed normal behaviour walking up and down his own track.
Soon, their guardian began to feel anxious, wandering back over the same track once more. Sighting footprints diverging off his own, she realised this must be his prey. With a verbal growl, she ordered her young male forward along the track, who responded quickly.
Yelping for his guardian's attention, the striped Wyvern hopped and danced on the ground, and was quickly followed by his sister. The guardian stopped, giving off an annoyed feeling as he watched the children apparently play.
The Queen further pressed her youth to run along the path, certain the Knight would notice it. Taking off, the pair took flight along the route. More confusion arose from their guardian, until sudden joy sprang from him.
---
"Oh! You found the footprints, Good job. So you can all track then."
The pair of youth flew back to his shoulders, while the Queen stayed close behind. Walking underneath the crowns of tree's both great and young, Steve tried not to think of the fanged Wyvern looming behind him, the pair of wings capable of blinding him at any time either side, and the fact that eventually, they may get hungry...
---
"A dragon... a dragon... where did I see this from!? I've seen a demon like this before!"
Eryk stood, his Scythe glistening in the noon sun, which had just begun to fall from it's place overhead. Wheezing, he spat out another glob of tar, his lungs aching for a puff of his pipe at the moment.
"You speak nonsense mage! I know inside all that magic that you are just a traitor, most likely a spy of the tree man! What you say is utter garbage, and I will never lament the day I accepted your challenge!"
Dark energy vibrated from the man, pulsing as much as the forest did with energy. It was worrying to both Jharak and the Arch Mage, as although he could not control it well, his Weapon could. Schist shivered in fear, the dark energy reminding him of his so recent past.
Walking backwards up the hill, Schist rejoined Jharak as they walked to the gap between two mountains - Darius Pass. Even as he walked away, he could see the glimmer of dusk in his Master's eye's. This will not be the last they meet.
---
Tensely, the pair watched each other. The dragon had a slight hill advantage, and could fly. On the other hand, she probably couldn't hold her form for very long as the crystal would run out.
With this in mind, the Dragon struck first. Pounding the ground, a flurry of water spread from the dragon's claws, slicking the arena with mud. Slipping around on the shallow layer of muck, the man tried to stay balanced as the dragon rose into the air.
With a sharp thrust forward, his enemy tried to claw off Eryk's head, blocked only by the Scythe. Before he could turn, a second swipe attacked from the back, forcing him to lunge into the mud. Bearing down, the dragon's claws latched around the staff of the Scythe as he turned, being the only barrier between claw and cloth.
The dragon landed it's back legs, trying to push the weapon from the man's grasp. Exclaiming his power, Eryk twisted the weapon to his side, the pressure asserted by the dragon lodging it into the mud. Without warning, the dragon lost all it's grip, crashing down the hill without the artifact in it's grasp.
Stepping up in the slippery conditions, Eryk pulled the slimy weapon from a tangle of ripped grass, and slid downhill towards the dragon. Unable to right itself on the ground, the dragon began to fly it's way out of trouble. Before it could rise fully, the Scythe sliced through the torso, pouring blue aura out into the world.
Screeching, the dragon tore uphill, landing at the base of the mountain. Sapping the gem's strength, she sealed the wound before the mana could leak itself out. She only had a few minutes left, so must act fast. Hopping into the air, the dragon swang left and right, flying haphazardly down the hill.
Trying to block with the narrow band of wood, the man's Suede coat sleeve was ripped to shreds by the claws of his foe as it flew past at great speed. Superficial wounds leaked blood on his arm, the red blending into the drying mud. Looking downhill, the dragon had stopped, and began to call water to it's hands.
Summoning his own magic, he remembered his slave. He was escaping, because of this demon which insisted on challenging him. It must be destroyed. His weapon shone darkly, black fire wafting off the blade like smoke off tinder.
Racing downhill towards the forest, with the dragon in front, he readied his Scythe, it's edge simmering with energy. Seeing the man charge downhill, the mage began releasing compressed balls of water. Firing in quick succession, the first few slammed into the hillside, but the remainder pummelled the man.
Blinded and shell shocked, pain coursed through his ears, while the mud re-slickened beneath his feet. Completely unable to sense anything properly, he rolled down hill, past the dragon onto the leafy floor of the forest. He tried to rise, but the charged weapon was wrenched from his hands.
Before he could even shout out, the dragon cut a portal in space with the remainder of it's energy, sapping the dark strength of the Scythe as well. Flinging the man inside, she knew he would be at the office, flung out onto his table. As the portal closed itself, she morphed back into a human form, the large fire stone dull, and unusable.
Stamping out the blue fire released from the teleport, she walked uphill, ignoring the mess of uprooted grass and mud as she headed onwards to Darius pass herself.
~~~
Ninth Part!
A simple suggestion on geology here.
~~~
Slaves of the Coal Mine
An interesting Novel to pass the time.
I applaud and congratulate you.