|
|
|
In the grand metropolis of Midnight City, during one of its many endless nights, a shadowy figure sneaks out of the Pyramid Vault of Spellbooks. This shadow is none other than Nevan Trics, practioner of magic, and self proclaimed master thief. A fifteen year old boy with black hair, altogether he seems a typical orphan, untill you look in his eyes, with shocking blue-violet irises hinting at his magical ability. He slinked silently over the city's Neon District's rooftops, vaulting over alleyways, no one noticing him besides the baleful moon above. Nevan paused as one of the denizens of Midnight City below him commented on the peaceful night. At that moment an inhuman screech erupted from the building Nevan had just left. "So much for a quiet night," muttered Nevan. Only one thing could scream like that, thought Nevan, The Guardian."Damn! it must be tracking the book!"Nevan heard The Guardian's triuphant growl as it began following him. The book Nevan had stolen, The Darkbane's Tome, was considered dangerous and had the most rigorous protection the Midnight Council could provide, which is why Nevan had to steal it. Yena, however, said that it was just a rarity and worth a lot of meals for her crew. Nevan sighed, The Guardian was too close, he was going to have to face it down now or lead it to the crew. Nevan unsheathed his two swords, the obsaidian, long cutlass, and the short, steel rapier. Nevan was scanning the rooftops for a suitable battleground. Nevan suddenly remembered training in the Luminous Wood, he and his master racing vertically up tree trunks while sparing. "Aha!" Nevan exclaimed, spotting the Skytower Hotel, second tallest building in the city. Nevan ran at the tower with the Guardian right on his tail, snorting and huffing. Nevan lept across the street and ran straight up the tower. The Guardian Let out an explosive roar so loud the glass side of the tower shattered.
Nevan kicked off as the shockwave reached his level landing in front of the Guardian. It was at least eight times taller than Nevan, with mucsles rippling underneath brown skin. It had the visage of a man in a dirty loincloth, with long, ratty gray hair running down its back. The monster had heavy iron shackles on its wrists, its face was a bronze mask twisted in anger, agony, and terror. But its eyes made it a monster, deep, dark pits, with a flicker of flame. Nevan charged, striking out with the left hand sword. A loud Clang! as the monster fended off his attack with its shackle. Nevan bounced backwards and planted his foot for another assult. The Guardian blocked its body with its arms. "Idiot" Nevan said, launch just like last time, only uppercutting at the thing's jaw with his other sword. Nevan shuddered as the thing crumbled to ashes. Master had once told him compassion had no place on the battlefield. His fatal flaw. Nevan picked up the monster's bronze mask and tucked it in his backpack. "Time to repay a debt," Nevan whispered
 Diyonisus · Sat May 24, 2008 @ 01:22am · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
