Fantasy Hamartia

[Elowyn]

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[( H A M A R T I A )]

「 ∙ hero's downfall ∙」

Long ago there were two realms. The Realm of the Heroes, and the fallen Underworld. Their war is age old, told of in legends and the annals of history. From the strife and screams, two figures emerge, are pitted against each other. They say that he would be the one to end her. They say that she would be his downfall. Will justice or tragedy reign?

* * *​

In a foggy city boasting 516,000 residents called Torrinsport on the Eastern seaboard the twain shall meet, their fates locked in deadly combat. His name is Andover. Trace Andover. He came from a poor family, but now his incredible powers and feats of bravery have brought him both riches and fame. At 5:06pm on a bitterly cold Saturday in November, he lounges at The Lucky Ace sipping from a glass of bourbon. He has just fixed a robbery situation at Torrinsport's largest bank which was, as predicted, a breeze. He hadn't fought anyone properly powerful for a while now. In time, his father would let him take on the big fish but for now he was stuck at this second-rate city drinking to drown his cares. Nobody had told him mo' money, mo' problems.

J_ne
template by astraea​

 

[J_ne]

Mae Aphelion. A proclaimed villainous, but not of her own will. Expectations were set, rumors were spread. Upon the war of kingdoms, she had been stolen from her home, watched as her mother and father were left for dead by the vile beings of the hellish Underworld she had grown to so heavily influence, but not without a cost. She was raised as if an animal: kept in a cage, trained day and night, forced to do the bidding of others. She was told by her captors that there was only one method to gain back the freedom she so desperately yearned for, and she would do anything to get it.

The woman crouched upon a building, a throwing dagger clutched in a steady hand, arm pulled back and ready to release. She was on her own, as ordered. The crown wanted the citizens of the Underworld to have a symbol to believe in, a prayer to cast that the Realm of the Heroes may fall, and that was her. The tracking device embedded in her neck reminded her of that all too well. She had found her target, watched as he drank himself to what she would only assume were the depths of stupidity. The tip connected to the simplistic handle she held was of tempered steel, sharp enough to penetrate nearly anything, and enchanted above all. The shake of her head cleared away doubt and apprehension. There were no other options, not for her. A fixed breath expanded her lungs and keen eyes locked back onto the man only meters away. Her tensed limb drew back further, aim was taken, and with as much force and intent as she could muster, she hurled the blade forward.

 

[Elowyn]

The Lucky Ace was on the 6th floor of a skyscraper so that meant the knife that hurtled through the open window was thrown by someone across the street on the opposite building. Trace shifted slightly and the blade sunk hilt-deep into the red leather sofa. A close call. He put down the amber liquid reluctantly. This was only his third glass. His night of drinking was not going according to plan. Someone wanted him dead.

If they wanted him, they'd have to chase him. Trace ran out of the bar and took the stairs all the way down. He was barely winded once he touched down on the ground floor. He wasn't about to let innocent civilians die because some assassin or other was after him. Who could it be? There was a laundry list of people who might be after his life and multiple who would actually send someone to do the wet work.

"If you want me, come and get me!" he shouted dashing out of the building and onto the sidewalk. He had to take this somewhere devoid of people. But first, he should let Comstad know. He pressed a button on his watch and a digital screen popped out. "Agent Walker to Comstad. I'm under attack, opponent unknown. Probably someone from the Underworld. Find me the nearest empty lot."

"Copy, Agent Walker. On it."

 

[J_ne]

A profanity slipped from Mae's breath upon the miss. She went to grab another dagger, retracting her hand back to her side once the man began running. Slowly standing, she waited until she had a figure in her sights, and sprang. She bounded across rooftops, swift paces carrying her between each building close enough in proximity to make such jumps. This had become a game of cat and mouse, and she was no mouse.

Harsh winds pounded against what little was exposed of her skin, sending trills of excitement down her spine. It had been a while since she had ran so freely; a spark in her soul ignited more with each soaring step, and she pressed on until a clearing was reached, and there were no more structures to carry her from the vantage point she had held.

A Cheshire grin adorned her features, slight huffs of air the only indication that she had been sprinting just moments earlier. Each nerve within her was buzzing from anticipation. Mae made her way down the building by ledges and unrefined brick walls, concealing herself behind a corner. Another blade was pulled from her belt -with three left remaining- and she took slow paces out to meet with the man she had been chasing after.

Weapon pointed, posture tall with intention, and tone traced with tinges of annoyance, she spoke three, simple words, "here I am".

 

[Elowyn]

A red blinking dot appeared on the map and another target icon appeared in another location. Swiftly he ran to the targeted area. It was an abandoned area of town with chain link fences, packed dirt and concrete. The little plant life was scraggly and toughened by its environment. He had his back against an abandoned print shop. Its broken sign split in the middle and the red paint was wearing away.

Trace focused in on his super hearing. Here I am, he heard. It was coming from that building to his left. Trace changed his position so he was more protected from any projectiles that may come his way. He unholstered his gun and was ready to shoot at the slightest movement. They would have to get out around the corner if they wanted to aim at him any more of those deadly daggers. Luckily, he was good at keeping down his alcohol and it only made his vision slightly blurred. It would be enough to finish off this pesky assassin, he thought to himself. The wind whistled through a narrow space sounding like a ghoul's wail. Then silence, and the barking of a feral mutt. Anticipation made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

 

[J_ne]

Glancing around, she searched for any possible sign of another person. She had seen her target run into this area, she knew he was there, but doubt still snuck through the cracks within her unsupported barrier of arrogance. She couldn't step out. Not just yet. Each move she intended needed to be calculated. Being in the dark of an opponent's physical fortitude and underestimating them could only spell out one thing: fatal.

Mae pushed her back against the crumbling wall. A deep pull of air expanded her lungs, allowing the brief relief of centering herself to control the flow of her thoughts. She would have to make a move soon, sitting idly and awaiting an attack on her wasn't an option. The obsidian dagger was held in both hands, a silent sigh of concentration parting her lips. If she couldn't see him, she could only think to run to the other side of the lot. There were more structures there to take cover if need be, and they appeared empty. That could only mean that her prey was somewhere that her gaze could not reach.

Steadying her stance, she took position: one leg placed in front of the other. Then, she pushed off. Her inflexible heels rhythmically pounded on the worn concrete as she rapidly scanned the scene. Then she found him. She was only a few steps out, but she couldn't cease her sprint. Not when she registered the weapon within his clutches. Any slight fault in her stride could mean getting hit. She couldn't help the grin that rose as their eyes met; she had always loved a challenge. She aimed and tossed the blade, reaching safety only moments later.

 

[Elowyn]

There. His attacker was dashing from cover to cover. It was a woman, and she was throwing knives. Trace snorted. Who brings knives when you can use a gun? She was going to be an easy kill. One less of those rats infesting this city. Trace caught the blade in mid flight. Still, he was too seasoned to let down his guard so easily, even if it was a woman he was fighting. She could be baiting him, waiting for him to mess up.

"You're not going to win this!" he shouted. "I've got a gun and more than enough bullets for you and whatever cronies are hiding around here." The Heroes Guild had taught him well. He would overestimate his opponent and plan carefully in case of any contingencies. "Come out and surrender, and I won't have to hurt you. Heck, we'll even offer protection in exchange for information on whoever hired you."

 

[J_ne]

Mae scoffed at the offer. She truly wished nobody would think so lowly of her confidence, her abilities. The only aid it had was often bringing opponents to underestimate her. Aside from her inhumane physical strengths, the woman has developed a skill for illusionism. It was a form of energy that was widely frowned upon for its 'unfair' or 'manipulative nature', but to her, that just made it all the better.

Fluid motions and an overflow of concentration brought the visions of the woman's mind to life and filled the surrounding area. Each image was a different person, all resembling her same physique and attire. They all took defensive poses, ready to lunge and attack. Mae didn't have any intentions of harming the man with these creatures, and even if she did, they couldn't touch anyone; once in contact, they dissipate. She simply needed him to use up some of the ammo he was so obnoxiously flaunting before she could make any other moves. Just then, one of the illusions made a move.

 

[Elowyn]

There was no reply. The lot was filled with slightly different variations of the same person. Illusions. There was no way there were this many--no, remember the clone battalion--one charged him. Trace aimed and fired his gun. A blast of energy shot out and through one image. The image disappeared. Suffice it to assume that they were all illusions. Trace didn't bother shooting any more, and decided to draw her out into the open. But how?

He knew the approximate appearance of his attacker, unless of course, he reasoned to himself, they weren't made in the user's image. An illusionist would do best remaining in the shadows and manipulating his sight. However, if he already knew the illusions were harmless it was a pointless practice. Trace wondered if his attacker could create illusions that would harm him. He couldn't count that out as an impossibility.

Still, Trace was determined to sort this out himself. A single attacker was all he saw so far. If it was only one person, he could take them out. There was no need to call for backup.