justpeachy
New Member
Author's Note:
If you wouldn't mind, please answer my poll. I'd like to see what others think of this piece.
Also, this piece was inspired by CaptainSparklez's "Realm of Mianite" series.
Thank you!
Prologue
Hyro frowned at his Lady's frail hands, her body wracked with heavy, wet coughs. Her purple hair was turning a fine silver, and her eyes -- the eyes that once shone like rare gems, watching over her followers -- were going to close forever if they could not find a cure.
His Lady gulped a shaky breath, and Hyro jerked to attention. "Hyro, my dear... Dear servant, so loyal..." His Lady coughed heavily, and the maid beside her bed ushered her to lay back and rest, to save her breath. Yet, the stubborn woman denied. "Hyro-- You must fetch my brother! He... He will know what to do."
As his Lady succumbed to yet another coughing fit, Hyro stood and bowed. "Of course, my Lady. I will fetch him this instant."
He wasted not another moment.
The Lady watched as her loyal servant fled her chambers, smiling softly, as this was as much as her illness would allow. "Oh, dear brother... Might it be too late for me?" The Lady's eyes opened for the first time in weeks, if only to see the world for only a week's time.
Chapter One
Fight for Home
The hero, exhausted by his travels, marched up the stairs to his home. The flights of stairs were no easy task now. He'd told himself to sleep, and yet, here he was, exhausted. His journey was not fruitless, however; he'd obtained many new pieces of knowledge, and precious jewels were collected.
On the top floor of his marvelous home, the hero smiled as he pulled the scrolls from his bag, the sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, and rubies following soon after. He stored them safely in the chests they belonged in, and turned around to the squealing of bats.
Yes, it was night, wasn't it, the hero thought. Evening was nice, possibly the best time of the day. With that thought, the hero walked down another flight of stairs and turned to his bedroom to find it locked.
"Eh? I've never locked my door!" The hero whispered, a strange sense of danger looming over him now. He glanced over his shoulders, ensuring his safety. He cared very little of the treasure upstairs now; those things could be recollected later on. His life, however, was a story of its own creation.
The hero's ears perked as he heard the creak of an opening door. He reached for his sword, only to find that he'd left it upstairs with the scrolls and gems. He'd have to retrieve it, especially if a thief loomed within his house's borders.
After taking four deep breaths, the hero sprinted upstairs, a flow of quick, accurate arrows following behind him. Adrenaline flew through his veins, his only goal being to reach his most powerful, most precious sword. He almost tripped over the top stair, but managed to catch himself, and grabbed the hilt of his sword and swung around, his dark hair falling into his eyes.
Without a second to recover, someone -- or something -- knocked his sword from his hand. Immediately, he jumped, barely dodging a foot meant to trip him. He dove for his sword, barely capturing it between tanned, sweaty fingers before standing and swinging at the intruder. He managed a mere cut before turning and running back downstairs. His armor was sealed in a case there, and he had a feeling he would need it.
The hero choked as the intruder grabbed him by the collar, pulling it against his throat. The intruder held him with his feet off the ground, and whispered in his ear; "My Lord, Vience, wants you dead, Elliot." The tip of a sword pressed into Elliot's spine.
"Well," Elliot grunted against his collar. "Tell 'your Lord' to come kill me himself!" Elliot threw his foot into the intruder's abdomen, freeing himself from the maniac's iron grip. Elliot managed to get to his chest plate and pull it on, but he had little time for the rest of his precious armor.
The intruder chuckled darkly. "Armor will not protect you from the servant of a god, you fool!"
Finally, Elliot was given a good view of his enemy. Except, he had no idea what to think of him -- it. It was a white humanoid being speckled gray, and it had no eyes or nose, only a mouth. Its weapon was a sword crafted out of the strangest material he'd ever seen; a dark, crimson mist. He had no idea how such a weapon could pierce anyone's flesh, but he'd felt the tip of the deadly object for himself, and did not feel like dying today.
The only word that stuck out to Elliot was "god". Due to his solitary lifestyle, Elliot had little relation with religion. He couldn't remember the last time he'd even thought the word "god", and the context of the word made him feel awkward. Here this maniac was, claiming to be the servant of a god, "his Lord Vience". And, even if this "Vience" existed, why did he want Elliot, of all people, dead?
"Yeah?" Elliot replied, building his courage. "Sorry, but I don't believe in gods."
Elliot dashed upstairs once more, his exhaustion forgotten, and barely made it to the top floor before the intruder slashed at his arm. "You are no match for me, human!" He roared, slashing once again at Elliot's body, and barely grazing his chest. "You are a weakling!"
But, as the intruder was slashing at him, Elliot found where the maniac being left weaknesses open. Swing to the right; opening to the ribcage. Swing to the left; opening to the sternum. Swing from above; opening to the abdomen. Swing from below; opening to the chest.
As soon as the being swung from above, Elliot stabbed into its abdomen. It did not bleed. Instead, it smirked, and pushed the sword further into its abdomen, stopping only when his body reached the hilt. "Ah, humans. No matter how much knowledge the gods give you, you're all so ignorant. It's oh so hard to ignore the crying of a helpless child," The being grinned, "Which is why My Lord, Vience has ordered me to shut you up."
Before Elliot could react, the being pushed him out the window, where he landed in the large river below, unconscious and vulnerable to any attack.
