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Post by Kija on Jun 2, 2005 21:06:16 GMT -6
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<The Broken Sword>>>>>>>>>>>>>
----------------------------Chapter 1-------------------------------
The destruction of Danaria was a terrible end and only the beginning of the doom to be inflicted to this world. The town was slaughtered and the hunting grounds formed. Though the town in ruins, a few survivors were left. These few made their trek through the hunting grounds, fleeing North as others once did before.
In this group of survivors were only three families; in one of the families was a small boy named Wej. Wej was only ten years old, and the fear was obvious in his eyes and all the others as they laid their foots into the dark soil of the grounds. “You stay behind me Wej.” Wej’s father said to him
Larl, Wej’s mother, grabbed him and followed behind her husband, Merdin. The father’s of the family drew the swords and stayed in the front to protect the wives and kids.
“Be careful. This will not be easy.” The father of another family said in a shaky voice.
“May Nexus guide us on our journey.” Merdin muttered as he took the first step into the hunting grounds.
The fathers ventured out, the wives and children close behind. The sky was dark and shadows danced on the green grass. There were sounds of growling and howling all about them. Sweat dripped down their faces, the fear growing stronger inside of them. They knew that they had to make it through or suffer greater than they would want to ever imagine. “Stay back! Here comes a wild beast!” Merdin had yelled.
It was a giant panther, its claws digging into the ground, ready to pounce, its razor teeth bared. The legs of the panther flexed and the beast leapt at the fearing fathers. Doing anything to protect their families, Merdin with the others stood their ground swinging their blades at the panther. A blade struck the beast, the violent blow tearing into the hide of the panther. The panther stumbled and fell wounded. It struggled and twitched, trying to stand and finish its prey. “This shall end now.” Merdin said has he raised his blade and swiftly finished the wounded beast.
“That was close dad.” Wej said, trembling.
“It’s all right. We will make it.” Merdin said in assurance.
“Let us continue before another nasty beast comes again.” One of the mothers said, eager to keep moving.
They all agreed and continued on their path. Fear was still present in them and the only thing that got them going toward their goal was determination of safety and shelter. Their swords still in hand, their palms sweating and shaking, the fathers continued on, to which they came upon a river. “Come and drink, there is water here.” Merdin said.
Larl rushed ahead of the other families and knelt before the river and cupped her hands to drink. A shrill shriek shook out, the sound of terror. The group jumped backwards, startled at the sudden sound. The scream was from Larl. They were relieved that she was fine and asked her what was wrong. “Don’t drink the water. This isn’t water.” She said.
They examined the river more closely. She was definitely right. There was not just water; the entire river was flowing with blood. Larl still crying from the experience, began rubbing her hands in the grass, trying to get the blood off. Huddled, they sat together, trying to think of the best path to take. With sticks drug into the grass, routes and maps were displayed. They looked over the route, and all agreed, that this will be fastest way. With the families clamoured back on their feet, they began on the planned route. By some luck, there was no attack so far. Not too far away, a small bridge came into appearance. It connected the two lands together, and showed since of civilization. “There’s a bridge, I see a bridge dad, I see a bridge!” Wej exclaimed.
“Yes son, it seems the others before had made it as well, lets hurry and greet them.” Merdin said with relief.
At this moment, any luck they ever had was gone. A group of imps leapt from the trees. The imps danced about, taunting the weary travelers. One of the imps took out a horn and blew it. The sound was shrill and painful to the group’s ears. They fell to their knees in pain. The imp smiled and put away the horn. There was a noise close by, like the pounding of large feet stomping on the ground. The ground trembled as the noise grew louder. The fathers quickly recovered and stood back up to protect their families from the danger they feared was about to arrive. They looked at the imps and waved their swords. Grinning evilly, the imps just laughed, then jumped off into the trees. To their right, the stomping grew louder and then stopped. There was a huge shadow that even loomed over the tall trees. Large hands burst from the shadow and pushed apart the towering trees, wood cracking and flying all about. It was a giant.
Fear, trembling with such fear of death, so afraid the families were, the mothers and children fell down and started to crawl backwards, trying to get away. Along with Merdin, the fathers stood their ground, although extremely afraid, they could never let something happen to their families. All at the once, they leapt at the giant, striking its feet. The giant screamed in pain, and grabbed his foot. This was only for a moment, for then the giant soon recovered and anger appeared in its eyes.
“We must run, the bridge is not far away, if we can reach it, we can live!” Merdin yelled.
Quickly, the mothers and children stumbled back onto their feet and were pushed along with the fathers. A battle cry tore out as the giant stomped toward them, not wanting them to escape. The bridge was only a few feet away. They had made it! They were going to be free!
Wej tripped and fell as a rock lying on the path struck his foot. “Wej!” Larl cried, trying to reach her only son.
Merdin held her back and dashed for Wej. The giant was about to reach Wej, but Merdin interfered. He struck the outreached hand. In shock, the giant pulled his hand back and laughed at the simple attempts of the father, the pitiful sword only like a small needle. “Wej! Run now!” Merdin yelled.
A behemoth arm snapped out, trying to reach Wej. Merdin in a final attempt to save his son, drew his sword high and prayed for Nexus to help him. Suddenly, the sword glowed and was brought down on the giant’s arm. The sword passed the arm and shattered. The giant arm flopped and fell still on the ground, a fire burning on the arm and on the wound of the giant. The giant wrought in pain as it was consumed, and in final revenge it leapt at Merdin and crushed him with its burning body. “Dad!” Wej yelled as he fell to his knees and cried.
Suddenly, out from the bridge a group of knights came out and rushed the family to safety, one grabbing Wej as he struggled to be let free and to save his father. Wej stared at the burning corpse of the giant, tears in his eyes. Larl, with tears streaming down here face, walked to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Please come now, you are not safe here.” Larl said as she sniffled and wiped her face.
Wej flung his arms around his mother and cried. He looked back at the burning corpse and walked up into blood soaked grass. He stared into the dancing flames, memories of his father surging through him, flashing and fading in his mind as he saw the images of his father, now only ghosts, haunting memories of the past. He picked up the now shattered, broken sword of his father’s and left with the knights.
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Post by Kija on Jun 2, 2005 21:07:02 GMT -6
----------------------------Chapter 2-------------------------------
The flames grew higher and higher, they surrounded Wej. “Help me! Don’t let me die! Dad!” Wej helplessly yelled into the dark void. He fell on the hard ground the flames clawing up him, the heat great, searing his clothes and his body. “Dad!” Wej yelled once more.
Flipping up from the air, he landed on stone. Looking around, the flames were gone and he was back in his room. It was just another nightmare. Ever since the death of his father, these horrify nightmares have been, and they always seemed so real and terrifying to him. Crawling back up on his bed again, he slipped off into a deep slumber once more.
It had been five years now and many things have changed. The small encampment that Wej and the others had escaped to was turning into a great kingdom. Houses were springing up everywhere; the simple wooden castle was now built of stone and stood towering over the bustling to town of Dainan. He was now fifteen years old and was training to join the ranks of the army and become a knight.
The air was cool and the breeze felt good against his face. He stood in the stone arena in the training center. Gripping his wooden sword, he gazed at his opponent. He maneuvered into his fighting stance and got ready to charge. His opponent smiled and did the same. Charging at his opponent, his wooden sword held high above his head, the opponent laughed and swiftly dashed to the left. A sword whistled in the air, the blow pounding against the leather armour. Wej toppled, its bludgeoning pain too great as the sword dug into his back, he had lost the battle. “Better luck time.” The opponent said, his outreached hand ready to help Wej to his feet.
“Yeah, sure.” Wej said in disappointment.
The sparring battles were frequent for Wej, sparred everyday as for his training to be a knight, for all knights must know how to fight. “You are doing better Wej, but do not try to just charge at your opponent, learn to use strategy, learn to focus and do not let yourself be caught off guard.” The trainer master advised him.
He shook his head in disappointment and joined the others in training at the bench. A new group of fighters stepped up to the arena and began to fight. He relaxed on the bench, the clattering sound of the clashing swords distance in his mind.
“Wej! Wake Up!” A voice boomed into Wej’s ear, “Are you okay?”
Wej jolted upwards in shock, “What? Where am I?” He asked in confusion.
“You fell asleep, kid, looked like you were having a nightmare or something. Well, go back home now, training for today is over.” The master trainer said.
“Oh, okay, I am fine, I will be leaving now.” Wej said as he got up and looked down, his clothes looked burnt, his skin hot and sweating. The heat had felt real but never thought it could have actually been so. He hurried home.
“Mom, I’m home.” Wej exclaimed as closed the creaking door.
“That’s nice dear, sit down and have dinner with me.” Larl replied as she set a plate for Wej.
He sat down and began to eat his rice dinner. He gulped down his dinner, the brown, clumpy, rice heavy and warm as it slide down his throat. It was silent as they sat, just the sounds of the spoons and bowl scrapping together as they scrounged for all bits of small rice. “I’m finished, Mom.” Wej said to his mother.
“I see dear, let me take that.” Larl replied as she grabbed his plate and went off cleaning.
He took his weekly bath and got ready to sleep. It was now night outside as the stars shown brightly in the black sky. There were thousands of them everywhere, and he loved to look out the window, counting them and seeing all the patterns. Sitting down on his bed, he grabbed the item wrapped in cloth that was on the small table to the left of him. The cloth unraveled and revealed the sword of his father’s, the smooth wooden hilt, delicately carved, the jagged metal of the blade still gleaming in the starlight. He stared at the broken sword, like he did every night, recalling the day of his father’s death and the sword that had saved his life as it had suddenly glowed and destroyed the giant. Slowly, he wrapped the broken sword back in its cloth and set it back on the table; quickly, he fell off into sleep.
There was ticking, like a clock. Wej walked in a void, heading toward the ticking that droned on. Walls formed around him, the clock was up ahead. Rubble was all around him, like a ruined town. He remembered this place. It was Dainaria. He walked up to the ticking clock and touched it. His hand burned, the walls and everything around him, bursting into flames.
“Wej! Get up! Hurry!” Larl was calling as she shook him, trying to wake him up.
He jolted upwards back into reality, only to find the entire house aflame. Although shocked and delirious, he knew that this had to have been from him.
“Wej! Come on! Stop just sitting there! We have to get out!” Larl yelled into the blaze at Wej.
“Oh, right.” Wej agreed, as he jumped out of bed and joined his mother in escaping.
Wej and Larl burst out the door and escaped. They both turned back and looked at their house, burning down to the ground. The other villagers were rushing by grabbing buckets filled with water, trying to put out the growing fire. Wej stared into the dancing flame, his face suddenly turning to dread. “No! The sword!” He yelled upon the realization that he had left behind the sword. He rushed back into the flames.
“Wej! Come back!” Larl cried in dismay as he ran off into the house.
The heat was searing and smoke muffled Wej’s breathing as he stumbled about in the house. He saw the sword on the table and grabbed it, the blade some how still cold, blazing heat of flames dancing all around it. He looked at the sword. It suddenly started to glow, a brilliant white, radiating from the blade. The fire suddenly started to push apart, away from the sword. Wej stared in amazement. He put the sword in front of him and watched the flames separate, revealing a path of escape. With the new path laid out, he dashed through and out of the house.
“Wej! You are okay!” Larl cried in relief as ran to her son and hugged him.
Wej hugged her back, the clock still ticking in his mind. He knew he must go there; he knew he must find the answers he needed. He did not know why the sword had guided him to safety or how it had saved his life five years ago, but he knew that the clock must hold some kind of answer. “Mom, I have to go.” Wej said to his mother, Larl, as he stared into the dying flames as the water finally overwhelmed it.
“What?! You . . . You . . . can’t go! You are my son.” Larl stammered in protest.
“I have to go. I have to go now.” Wej said as he turned and made his way to leave the town.
“Wej! Wait! If I can’t stop you, at least take this.” Larl said as she handed him a bag, “It’s some food that I was able to save, you will need it.”
“Thanks.” Wej said as he took the bag from Larl.
He hugged his mother good bye and walked off, Larl holding back her tears as she saw her son fade off into the foggy distance of the hunting grounds.
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Post by Kija on Jun 2, 2005 21:10:05 GMT -6
----------------------------Chapter 3-------------------------------
“Die!” Wej’s voice echoed through the grim darkness of the trees.
Steel clashed against iron wood as Wej locked blades with the imp and its wooden sword. A smile crawled and spread across the imp’s leathered face as it pushed the bloody Wej to the ground. Skinny limbs and a laugh like metal, the imp danced and flailed about. Grimacing in pain, Wej strained and pushed himself back to his feet, fighting the urge to fall into unconsciousness. Little energy was left in him; his only thoughts were to finish the battle, to kill the last of the imp ambush and come out alive. Their gaze locked, the hate illuminating from their burning eyes. Wej raised his sword and rushed at the imp again, stumbling over his worn, bruised feet, his cry of battle wavering.
Without any difficult attempt at dodging Wej, the limber imp whirled and twisted around the plummeting blade. An all too familiar sting engulfed Wej’s back, the wooden sword’s powerful, swift blow slamming into his leather garment, the force quivering through his entire body. Although in a time of near death, a faint smile was apparent on his face, laughing and mad at his half-witted attempt to hit the dancing imp, his important lessons too soon forgotten as a training knight. Lying on his back, Wej stared at the glaring imp, the blood soaked, wooden sword looming above him as it was about to plunge into his helpless body. A warmth began to radiate through his body; it was coming from his pack; a shrill emitted from the tiny creature as it jumped back in surprise. It was the broken sword of his father’s, the sword that had saved his life before. Hope filled Wej as he was sure that it was time for the sword to save him again. He gripped the handle of the broken sword and wrenched from its pack, its white light in full view, the area almost as bright as day. The hopeless attempt of the imp of masking its fear was futile as it trembled and shook each step it took in retreat. Tiny knees wobbled and rattled with each slow half step back, its body too paralyzed with fear to run. Wej stood back to his feet, although still bloody and filled with scars, the sword seemed to have given him the energy to continue the fight.
“It is now time to finish this, pitiful imp. Your time to die is now.” Wej said in the turn of events.
There was only one predicament of the outcome of this battle, even the once seeming great and brave imp knew that. The shining blade was raised and pointed in his direction, only a scream came from the imp as it breathed its last breath as it had stared in paralyzing fear directly at the shimmering sword and the white-hot bolt that lashed from it and ended the battle. Wej collapsed, the energy the sword had pulsed through his body faded. Suppressing the pain that wracked throughout, sleep came.
It was a void; there was nothing but blackness as Wej continued to walk forward. A clock appeared in front of him, he recognized this clock from before, in his dream before he left Dainan. The sharp, punctuate ticking of it still etched in his mind, the flames still seared on his flesh. He could feel a warm glow on his hand, some symbol or mark shimmering on it. He was not sure what this mark was or what it would be for, but he was sure how he could find out. From the corner of his eye, a moving shape caught his attention. It was a person in a black cloak, staring at him, beckoning him to come. He backed away and fell, once again the flames rising, the heat burning as it began to grow, the tendrils lapping at his arms and legs.
With a jolt, Wej sprung from his dream, an ash circle around him where he lay. He stretched and clamoured back to his feet, happy to see it be day than the gloom of the darkness that settles in the hunting grounds in a vile way that would make one go mad in fear.
Out into the distance, a silhouette of an old, familiar home was in sight. A path worn but still visible made by the passage of such that of a village continued to the lead the way toward the ruins of Dainaria, a once wealthy town until it was destroyed and overtaken by the hunting grounds. With determination, Wej continued down the path to find the secrets of his dreams, of the ticking clock, of the strange glowing symbol that would glow on his hand.
Luck seemed to be his side on this day, not one attack ensued. Up ahead, he saw a figure, a person in a black cloak just standing on the road. Although a bit wary, he wanted his answers. The cloaked figure, he was sure was the one he saw in his dreams. While trying not to make eye contact with the cloaked figure, Wej passed by, his gaze on the ground in front of him.
With a loud bang, blood came raining from the sky. Wej stopped in his tracks and turned back around to see in astonishment a dismembered imp lying dead right behind him on the path, the imp’s blade glistening with its own blood. The cloaked figured lowered its hands, smoke still hovering around him from the fire that had ignited from its hands.
“You should be more careful.” The figure replied.
“Who . . . Who are you?” Wej questioned.
“I am Torin. You are very welcome.” The cloaked man replied back as he made his way toward Wej.
Wej stepped back, not wanting Torin to get too close. “And what is it that you want?”
“Whoever said that I wanted something? Are you not the one with the questions?” Torin replied back, “Are you not going to Dainaria?”
“How do you know that?” Wej asked, his fear and suspicion growing.
“Calm down, just come with me, I can help you get there; it seems you might need some help.” Torin said as he looked over Wej, the blood still dried to him, cuts and scars all over.
He did not him trust very well, but Torin seemed to know who he was, perhaps he knew some of the answers that he sought. He nodded his head.
Torin walked up beside him, his black cloak swaying in the wind.
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Post by Kija on Jun 2, 2005 21:14:09 GMT -6
----------------------------Chapter 4-------------------------------
Wej stared at the bottle, its liquid swirling and sloshing inside against the dirty glass. Slowly he opened it and raised it, glaring at the blurry contents.
“Go on; drink it…Don’t worry, it’s not poison.” Torin reassured him, “It’s only a potion to help you heal. Your wounds look awful.”
Wej threw back his head and downed the substance. The taste stung his tongue as the bitter liquid splashed down his throat. Forcing himself not to gag, he finished the entire bottle. Slowly, his body began to tingle, starting from his stomach, the feeling grew outward and spread threw his entire body. His wounds began to close and a wavy, gray, smoke spiraled from the cuts as they healed at the rapid pace. Soon his pain grew numb and he was alive again. “Ahhh…that feels nice.” He said in relief, his voice more relaxed.
“Good…good. Let us hurry on, the river is up ahead.” Torin said as he raised his hand, motioning toward the rushing sound of water.
Wej and Torin trudged through the tangled grounds, the strong stench of death wafted through the air, and it rose like steam from the corpses, its pungent odour overpowering and mingling with the scents of the forests. Wej picked up his pace, hurrying to leave the corpses behind.
The river was just up ahead, the sound of rushing water grew louder as they made their way closer. Wej knelt before it and glared into the murky, muddy water. His reflection stared back at him, his black hair tangled as it rested on his shoulders. Scars glimmered in the water, the red, jagged, lines forever reminders of his near death encounters. Slowly he dipped his hands into the water, its icy touch gripped his worn, bloody, hands, as the shiver shook through his body.
Gently, he brought the water to his face and splashed it onto himself, washing away the dried blood and dirt. He did this several times more, cleaning his face and arms. “It is getting late, I think we should set up camp here,” Torin said as he turned toward Wej, “We must get prepared before it is too dark.”
Wej nodded his head in agreement. Stretching his limbs, Wej clambered back to his feet and helped Torin gather wood. Soon there was a pile of twigs and logs sufficient enough for a small fire. Torin raised his hands, and the air soon began to warp around it, like a heat wave. The heat grew immense and suddenly flames ignited from the area around his hands, bursting through and bombarding the set up of wood. Latched onto the wood, the intense flames grew, feeding hungrily on the dry wood.
Torin and Wej drew in and huddled around the fire, lying on their sides, their face staring into the shimmering flames. Near them were their swords, clutched loosely in their hand, prepared for any danger that may invade them in the dark hour of night.
The night passed seamlessly and they awoke without one attack from the chaotics. Lucky they were, but they did not dwell on their fortunes. Quickly they gathered themselves and began their journey once again to Dainaria.
The stone walls of Dainaria loomed in front of them. They had made it to their destination. “We are here.” Torin declared.
“Yes,” Wej replied, “I must find a clock, one that was left unscathed in these ruins, one that still ticks away, even after these many years.”
“I know of such a clock. The clock’s mark is the key.” Torin informed Wej.
Turning toward Torin, Wej pleaded, “Then please lead me the way, I must find this clock.” He raised his hands toward him, shaky helplessly, half kneeling as he begged for his help to get there.
“Sure, if I must.” Torin replied eagerly, as he clasped his hand together in anticipation.
A smile appeared on Wej’s face, he would soon come to the place conjured in his nightmarish dreams. Torin began walking ahead; Wej followed not far behind.
The town was in ruins, the once great and prosperous town, now dark and dead. Shadows danced across the walls, sounds echoed through the empty, crumbling buildings. It was no longer his home; it belonged to the chaotics now. Far to the north of the town they traveled until upon reaching the very end, the cracked and broken wall still standing. “Over here.” Torin said, pointing to a building to his right.
Wej followed quickly after him into the old, ruined building of Dainaria. Once inside, he noticed a stair case, the steps descending into the unknown darkness of long forgotten, buried memories of this town. Torin made his way to the stair case and began to follow the steps into the depths. Reluctant, Wej followed suit; the darkness pressed against his shaky body, his lungs filled with the old dust and heavy air.
It was dark in this buried area. Wej squinted to try to make out his surroundings as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dimming light. A screech pierced the air, and suddenly a dark figure rushed at him. The shadow slashed and clawed, not letting down the powerful assault. Quickly, he was backed against the stone walls, the shadow in his face. With no more time to spare, he grabbed his sword and parried the claws before they can dig into him. Torin then jumped in front of Wej to protect him before anymore could happen. “Don’t worry, I will take care of this.” Torin declared, taking that it was his duty to give his life for Wej.
“I don’t need your help. I will kill him.” Wej said, his voice cold and angry. The shattered sword of his father clutched in his hand began to glow a brilliant white once more. The radiant energy warped and flowed from the sword. Turning back, the shadow faced Wej once more, ready for a second attack. Rays of white energy bursted from the sword and hurled toward the shadow. Screeching, the shadow curled into a ball as he flew in the air, trying to protect himself from the penetrating rays. Suddenly, a hot, searing, pain stung Wej’s side. Another force flung him to the side, its impact knocking the sword from his hand. The previous shadow laid on the ground; smoke and the smell of burnt flesh rose from him. Weakenly, the injured shadow rose back to his feet, the hot energy had only grazed his dark skin.
Torin rushed to Wej, noticing the second shadow hiding the corner, ready to pounce again. “You fool, this place harbours more than just one creature.”
Grimacing in pain, Wej came to a standing position, his hand gripping his side as the blood oozed out of the fresh wound. More shadows began to surround them; a zombie shuffled into the crowd, his rotting flesh torn and mangled. Torin handed Wej his sword, and they stood back to back, examining the situation.
They both breathed heavily, and prepared for what was to come. With quick movements, Torin raised his hands and the fire ignited from them. Its flame spiraled and twisted as it made impact against the mangled corpse of the zombie. A cackling noise gurgled from the zombie’s mouth as the flames grew larger and consumed its body. With another wave of his hands, thunder echoed in the small room as a bolt of electricity jolted from his hands and into the shadow. The shadow was lifted off its feet from the impact and landed on the hard ground a few feet away from its original position. It did not rise again.
The glowing, broken sword shimmered and bolts of white energy lashed out at the remaining shadows. The white energy seared them, catching them aflame as they screeched in pain. Torin’s and Wej’s circle began to grow smaller and smaller as the shadows continued their onslaught. Shadowed claws carved deeply into their skin as it slid down their sides, the blood trailing behind. More and more gashes were inflicted upon them; they were wounded deeply; they could not last for too much longer.
Eventually the last shadow crumpled to the floor, joining the pile of the rest. Torin and Wej fell to their knees, their consciousness slipping away. Out of his cloak, Torin grabbed more bottles of the healing liquid. He quickly handed one to Wej and them both began gulping it down. “My body, it hurts.” Wej said, “Am I going to die?”
Torin crawled to Wej and they sat up against each other. “Don’t worry, we will be fine.” Torin replied, “The liquid will numb the pain and heal us. We will be better in no time.” Torin continued, his breath heavy and irregular.
As before, the liquid began to take its affect. Their wounds slowly closed up and the free moving blood began to clot at the wounds. “How much further do you we have to go? If this happens again, we might not make it.” Wej said, the fear of death looming over him.
“It is not much further, but we need to start moving again.” Torin said grimacing as he shakily began to stand, first rising up to a kneeling position, his knuckles digging into the floor. Struggling, he brought his knees off the floor and rose to a standing position. Reaching out his hand, he helped Wej to his feet.
They began moving once again, turning a corner and heading down a hallway. Wej’s heart thumped louder and louder, his anxiety brewing within him. Shadows lurked in the dark corners; a few leapt out of hiding to attack the group of two, but with only a few at a time, the group easily took victory.
Another step was taken by Torin and Wej and at last they came to another hall. This hallway was narrow, and its path was carpeted with bones. A faint ticking rang in Wej’s ear. Glaring ahead, a clock took form, hanging on the far end of the wall, across the bone hallway. “There it is! That must be the clock I saw!” Wej exclaimed as he rushed ahead toward the clock.
From behind, a searing blast of fire struck his back. Wej spun and struck hard against the floor. Coughing up blood, Wej turned on his side and saw Torin glaring down on him. “Good, we have made it, but it won’t be necessary for you to be alive any longer. It was I that implanted that dream inside of you. And now that we are here, I will be taking your hand.”
Torin knelt down and gripped Wej’s arm. Wej struggled to break free but was too weak to do anything against him. Before he could grab his sword, it was kicked against the wall, his last hope out of reach. “Now, now, there is no need to struggle, it will be over soon enough.” Torin reassured him, his death an inevitable event.
The piercing blade of Torin’s sword rose and the cold metal was placed against the gripped arm. Blood trickled and ran down the blade as the sword cut into the skin. “Ahhh!” Wej screamed in pain, his skin and muscle ripping and tearing.
To his surprise, the sword suddenly dropped and clattered to the floor, the metal ringing a dull tone. Wej looked at Torin, and noticed a protrusion from his stomach, where the blade of a sword had pushed through, the flesh of his organs and blood dripping from it. “This cannot be, I am…I am going to die.” Torin uttered, his final words before his collapsed and the life left his body.
Two dark figures stood over the corpse of Torin and the wounded Wej. “Good, we made it in time. The boy is still alive.” One of the figures said.
With a blunt object the figure had, he lifted the object and struck Wej on the top of his head. His world began to fade and darkness shrouded his eyes. Only faint sounds drifted into his ears. “He won’t be unconscious for too long with just that, make sure he stays asleep. The journey will be long.”
“Yes. For our master, we must hurry.”
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Post by Kija on Jun 10, 2005 23:48:31 GMT -6
----------------------------Chapter 5-------------------------------
Wej’s eyes creaked opened, an aching force pulled down on them as he dragged himself out of unconsciousness. The world slowly began to stop spinning, coming to a jolting halt, its daze settling down. Hard stone laid beneath him; he was no longer in the dark halls of the fallen town of Dainaria. His hand came to his face as he grasped it tightly and moved forward into a sitting position. He gazed about him, taking in his new surroundings.
A dim room stood before him; a floor and walls of stone, torches stuck firmly in its cracks forming with age. The fire of the torches twirled slightly as a small breeze drifted through the lonely halls, shadows dancing and waving. His sore arms pushed up from the floor as he stood to his feet. In front of him, a light shined in a thin line, its golden thread lighting up the door. It was an old, wooden door, the wood brittle and falling apart, the light escaping through the bottom and cracks.
Grasping the rusted, iron knob, he carefully turned it and pulled the door toward him, but another force pushed back. The door flung open back at him as he was thrown back to the ground. Two figures shrouded in black materialized out of the light and loomed over him. Wej pushed himself back to his feet and stared back at the two figures. “Who are you? Where…where am I?” Wej began to question them. The figures came forward, their black cloaks covered their body, their faces hidden behind the folds of their hoods. He slowly backed away, increasing the distance between them. The hands of the figures rose, the black cloth dangling from the ends, drooping over their arms. Long, wooden shafts were grasped in their hands, pointing at him.
Suddenly, in a quick motion, they dashed. The shafts flung down at him. He jumped to the right and dodged the first blow, the second flew sideways. Quickly he grabbed his broken sword and parried the second strike as the wood bashed against the steel. Recovering from the attack, he lunged forward in offense and attacked one of the figures. The shaft was brought up and deflected his blow, but he continued with the attack. With another strike, he spun and brought down the broken sword onto the figure’s shoulder. No sound of pain came from the figure, only the whispers of tearing flesh as the sword pushed down, slashing its shoulder. He jumped back as the sword passed through, blood spattering upward with the motion. Stumbling about, the figure regained its footing and joining the other; they attacked again.
“Ahh!” Wej whelped in pain, grabbing his wounds.
The shafts cracked against his sides and arms, the force immense. He staggered backward and then toppled forward once again. Tightly grasping the broken sword, it began to glow once more. With its white light of fire, the sword came down upon the shaft as the dark figure attempted to block his attack. Splinters exploded from the shaft, the white fire shattering the shaft in one blow, pushing forward and slashing across the chest of the figure.
Falling to its knees, the figure sat motionless as the fire slowly died down from the gash across its chest. Only one more remained, but he knew more must be close by. He must find a way out, some place to escape to.
A gush of air slid across his face as the shaft of the figure came down, barely missing the exhausted Wej. Lifting the broken sword forward; the brilliant white glow pulsed and lashed out. The bolt struck against the figure, bursting it into brilliant flames; the figure collapsing to the stone floor.
From the side of him, a creaking echoed into the room. The door slowly opened again, a dark figure peered at and eyed him. It saw the others lying dead, the blood dripping from his broken sword. Quickly he looked around, chose a long hall and ran limping, his blood trailing behind. He knew not where he was going, but he knew it was away from the figure after his life.
To the right a dark room presented itself. Quickly he maneuvered himself and squeezed in, hoping to lose the dark figure. The door closed behind him, and he laid his back against it, breathing heavily, aching with fatigue and wounds. Suddenly, a voice startled, him. “Hello, young one; what brings you here to disturb my meditation?” The voice was that of a woman.
Wej’s eyes rose dreadfully. Small, flickers of golden light illuminated the dim room, the figure squatting on the bare floor, surrounded by candles of dripping, melting wax. Small wafts of smoke begin to drift toward him, filling through him. Its scent was very sour, it made him want to vomit, but he struggled against it. His eyes began to flood with tears as the pungent smoke gouged at them.
“The candles can be somewhat strong to those who are not devoted. Just breathe, and let the essence become you. When you know that you are the smoke, then you will not struggle with it.” The figure said to Wej.
Wej breathed in deeply, the smoke filling up in his lungs. His body repulsed, coughing from the smoke that had filled it. He continued to breathe more in, relaxing himself as his body became steadier.
Soon, there was calmness, and his body was once again at peace. “Good now, please come forward and sit. State your name, young one.” The figure said.
Wej came forward, and sat in front of the figure. “I…I am Wej.” He replied in a hesitant sort.
“Hello, Wej. So, what brings you here to have disturbed me?” The figure closed her eyes, and began to relax once again, as she began to question him.
“I am lost. I woke up, and I was here.” The figure motioned for Wej to close his eyes, as he answered the questions; he followed the instructions.
“Perhaps you were lead here. Voleron can work in mystical ways; your future main lye within these halls. You should continue to follow it, to follow him.” Her voice continued to speak to Wej, slowly lulling him into the calm realm of the smoke.
“My path leads to Nexus. I do not know of a Voleron; he shall not lead me.” Wej rejected the embrace of Voleron.
“Voleron is our god. He will rule this world, and Nexus will be no more. Do not go down the path of such fading light. Follow us, and you will be claimed.” The figure began to pressure Wej once more.
Wej’s eyes began to relax even more, and darkness consumed him. He was at peace, the smoke drafted through him; the scent was a wonderful feeling. The figure steadily stood back to her feet and removed her hood. She had a young face, one that of beauty, and on her forehead a diamond of scarlet red had been painted. She reached out to him, “Come, follow me, you shall be our new disciple.”
Delirious and of suggestive state, he stood up and followed. “This is our temple, to your god, Voleron. We worship him here so that one day he will return.” The figure said.
“This diamond of red is his symbol, the symbol of his pain and suffering, the symbol of his prison. We wear it upon ourselves so that we may be one with him.” The figure continued.
Up ahead, another door stood. Turning toward him, the figure motioned to go inside. He stepped forward and opened the door. “Go through, your future as a disciple begins here.” The figure said as she followed close behind.
Wooden pews rowed down both sides of the room, grey and broken with age and rot. Torches lined the walls, and the smoke wafted throughout. Towards the front stood an altar, it was that of stone, stained red. On the wall in front of the altar was a painting of a large diamond; it was the colour of blood.
Someone was at the altar, knelt down and praying. Another in the robes of black, the dressing of the disciples. He and the other walked up to the praying disciple. “Master, I bring a young one, another disciple for Voleron.” The figure with Wej spoke to the praying disciple.
The master turned to look at him and stood. “Hello, Wej, I have been waiting for you to return.” A grim voice echoed out.
“What? How do you know my name?” Wej began to back away, the calmness that was inside of him began to contort into fear.
“Do not be afraid, Wej. You belong here, with us, with Voleron. Come closer, and I shall paint the mark upon you, and you shall be free.” The master walked toward Wej, speaking to him.
“No! I…I follow Nexus! Nexus is my god; Nexus will take me to the holy light!” His head began to throb, and the smoke began to hurt his body once more.
“You will belong to me, Wej. You will follow Voleron; the light of Nexus cannot save you.” The master reached out, his voice echoed out, a voice that shook Wej’s mind.
“Nexus, will save me. The light of Nexus is holy and will not fade.” Wej pushed back, calling out for Nexus.
“Nexus will save me!” Wej screamed out, his voice filled the entire room, and then there was darkness. The disciples disappeared, the smoke drifted away.
Bolting up, he sat in a cot, a tattered blanket over him. Sweat ran down his body, and he shuddered. It was a small, confined room, darkness all around. To his left, there was a large opening, blocked with long metal bars.
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