gigawords

[gigawords]

An ode to the best walk cycles in fighting games

[gigawords]

Updated with the rest of chapter 1! Made a lot of grammatical changes and added the rest of the chapter.

Working Title : Aspect

(A/N) Trying something new on my writing blog! I will continue posting the raw unedited text on Tumblr, but since Tumblr doesn’t keep the same formatting as I use in google docs, I will post the link for that as well. Clicking the link you can view the story in its regular formatted and edited form and comment on parts you think are necessary if you want to provide feedback. Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1uxcoEwqWof8zthw9skzJ9HjtQVNkDYpr-WjHRqi0Ddw/edit?usp=sharing

Keep reading

[gigawords]

keep writing, ya bastard

you give me the strength to write ya beautiful bastard

[gigawords]

Working Title : Aspect

(A/N) Trying something new on my writing blog! I will continue posting the raw unedited text on Tumblr, but since Tumblr doesn’t keep the same formatting as I use in google docs, I will post the link for that as well. Clicking the link you can view the story in its regular formatted and edited form and comment on parts you think are necessary if you want to provide feedback. Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1uxcoEwqWof8zthw9skzJ9HjtQVNkDYpr-WjHRqi0Ddw/edit?usp=sharing

The last arrival train to Juran pulled into the station right as the sun was setting, and only one man stepped out.

Clad in armor unmarred, Beamer shouldered his pack as he looked around the station. Though there seemed to be lights that were powered by tekkium, only a few wall sconces were lit now. A small crowd of people were further down the train being herded onboard by an official in bright blue stationeer clothes.

He began to walk that way, and as his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the near-empty station, the stationeer turned towards him. With a mixed look of beleaguerment and surprise, he stared at Beamer for a long moment before ushering the last of the passengers onboard.

Finally, as the doors to the train began to shut, he addressed Beamer, “Sorry to say, son, but the city’s closed. In case you haven’t noticed, Juran isn’t exactly the safest place to be right now. Hence the mass exodus.”

Beamer swung his bag around and began shuffling through it, “Yeah, uh, that’s actually why I’m here. Name’s Beamer. Knight of the Dhazul Dominion.” He finally found his badge in his pack and presented it for the stationeer. “Here about a mutation problem?”

The stationeer was not as happy about it as Beamer thought he’d be. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the badge and dismissed himself with a “Bah!”

“You don’t sound too happy ‘bout someone here to help with your situation,” Beamer said, throwing the badge back into the pack before hurriedly catching up with the older man.

“Happy? I would have been happy if you had come weeks ago like we requested! And now they send one knight who looks like he hasn’t even seen a battle to fight three mutations?” the stationeer snarled, entering into a room that appeared to be an office of some sort.

“Three?” Beamer asked, incredulous, as he held open the door in the doorway. “That ain’t what the higher-ups told me.”

The old conductor rolled his eyes as he sat down at a desk to begin writing on what appeared to be a schedule. “Maybe. We don’t know for sure but we sure as sin know it’s more than one of those freaks. That’s what happens when you ignore a problem like this. It festers!” he jabbed a pen in Beamer’s direction. “Now Juran’s desolate and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Beamer scratched at the scar on his nose. Sure is tough being nice to folk like this, he thought. Inside his mind, he heard a girl’s giggle. “Look, mister…?”

“Rasine. Only remaining stationeer and probably the last person in the whole town.”

“Rasine,” Beamer continued, “I know you’re angry, but I’m just the fella they sent to fix this mess. I can’t help with you being angry. What I can do is help you get rid of those things.”

The sound of a pen scratching stopped and was replaced by the whistle of a departing train. The chugging soon followed. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, son, and I apologize for lashing out at you. But… you shouldn’t get involved. There’s nothing worth saving here any longer and you’ll only get yourself killed,” Rasine sighed. “You can stay in the station tonight and I’ll see if I can call you a train tomorrow.”

When he didn’t reply, Rasine finally turned to face him. Beamer was honestly at a loss for words and just shrugged in response. This seemed to exasperate Rasine further. “I don’t want any more deaths in my town.”

“I won’t die.”

Though he replied with “Foolish”, the look on his face melted into something akin of sadness. Regret. “If… if you do go, know that I will be here at the station if you feel like it’s too much.”

“Know where I can find ‘em?” Beamer asked.

Rasine nodded in return. “One of them tends to stick around the southern market square at night. There were sightings of another on the eastern side of town, right near the cliff.”

Beamer made a mental note of that, then began to close the door. “I appreciate that. Pleasure meeting you.”

The sun dipped further behind the barrens behind him and the streets darkened considerably. There didn’t appear to be any kind of light source anywhere in the city, which, in tandem with the lack of sounds, gave the entire area an eerie vibe. Somewhere in there was his mark.

Beamer muttered quietly, “We may have gotten ourselves into a situation we’re gonna regret, eh, Twovi?”

There was another girlish giggle and then a small flash of green light. Twovi materialized, floating in the air. Though she vaguely represented a tiny human with wings, her bright luminescence made it impossible to make out her features. She looked around excitedly, flittering around him as he watched.

“Think I could get some light?” Beamer asked hopefully. She flew up to eye-level with him and cocked her head. Great.

“Light? You know like a lantern or a torch or something?” She cocked her head the other direction.

“‘Bout as well as I expected that to work.”

Suddenly, she started nodding her head vigorously and flew straight towards the sword he had sheathed at his waist. As she collided into it, a wave of color washed over the weapon and it began to glow with a pleasant green reminiscent of the lush forest Beamer once saw.

“No, no,” he sighed. Their entire time together had been like this so far. He knew better to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he wished the higher-ups would have assigned him a more mature Aspect. Well, it’ll have to make do for now… he thought, drawing his sword and holding it aloft. It wasn’t quite as effective as a torch but he could at least see where he was going for now.

He pressed onward, eyeing each building and alleyway as he walked past. Feels like I’m walking into an ambush with nothing but a knife, he thought. Every once in a while, there was the sound of a door or open window swaying in the wind. It was eerie being in an empty city that was thriving just weeks ago. But who can blame the townsfolk for fleeing when a frontier city like this has nothing to defend it from those monsters?

There was something dark on the ground in front of him. He held the glowing sword towards it. A blacksmith’s sign liesay there, torn from wherever it was hanging and flung into the cobblestone street.

Beamer clicked his tongue in annoyance. We’re not getting anywhere like this, he thought impatiently. “Twovi, can you do my legs?” He heard something come from his weapon—a noise from her that he’d starting affiliating with pouting—before she withdrew from the sword. The soft light emanating from the sword dissipated as she did so.

Twovi buzzed around in confusion for a few moments before he held out of his feet and asked her again. She seemed to recognize this gesture, as they had done this one before, and flew straight into his chest. Her tiny body made merged into his the same way one would dive into water, with ripples of green light emanating from her point of entry. These ripples seemed to find their way down his outfit, and gathered near his feet until his legs began glowing from the knee downwards.

He heard her hum with glee inside his mind and looked upwards towards the roof of the tallest building next to him. They were near one of the busier parts of Juran. Taller buildings with three stories were becoming more prominent. He prayed as he approached the base of one of these buildings and crouched down low.

When Twovi empowered him, he could feel the heat radiating from her point of concentration. Now, as he crouched low readying a jump, it was as if pure energy replaced the blood in his veins. He jumped and he jumped far. Much farther than any human should be able to. He easily crested the flat rooftop of the building he was aiming for but miscalculated the direction of his jump and the power Twovi had given him.

He let out a yelp as he lost his balance and began tumbling through the air. He heard Twovi scream inside his mind as he crashed down hard onto the roof.

Beamer’s vision was spinning and his back ached bad, but not as bad as his arm did. He felt waves of… something travel up his body. Suddenly, as if his head was suddenly dunked in water, his mind cleared. He was on his back, he realized, on top of the three-story building. Different parts of his body began glowing as Twovi set to work healing it from the inside. He watched with amazement as waves of green light focused on each area of pain he felt before it magically disappeared. Twovi sniffled like an upset child the entire time.

The whole process took only seconds, and he was able to pick himself up in no time. He whistled, “Man, you Aspects are really something amazin’, you know that?”

Not understanding how, but he got the impression that she nodded in response. But she felt guilty? Or was that his guilt? Everything was mashed together inside him now and he didn’t know who was who.

“Now, then,” he continued, stepping up the ledge, “let’s see if we can find ourselves a freak.” While he could see far more than he could before, it was still dark and there were several buildings further in the city that were taller than the one he was on. Further east, he could see a point where the buildings just stop suddenly, and south of his position he could barely pick out a area where there were no buildings. Bingo.

They took a slower but safer way down from the building but eventually made it to what appeared to be a large outdoor market area. Empty stalls lie everywhere in a disorderly manner and there were display stands with no clear indication of positional planning. Twovi had decided to conjoin with his gauntlet this time, not giving the source of light he wanted but enough to get by yet again.

As he walked around, he noticed a large section of the wooden stalls had been completely destroyed. Smashed, torn apart, and completely obliterated. The sight of it sent chills down his spine. No human did this.

Beamer wasn’t a man easily disturbed, but the flashbacks of his first encounter with a mutation bubbled up in his mind. He could feel sweat starting to form on his brow. I’m supposed to kill three of them? Twovi seemed to sense his hesitation. He didn’t know how, but he felt her grow quieter, more reserved.

A noise echoed from a nearby street or alley. The sound of wood snapping. In a flash, Beamer’s sword was in his hand. “Twovi, sword.” he commanded. Blessedly, she responded immediately and was quick to jump from his gauntlet to his sword.

The blade felt powerful in his hand. He felt a different sensation than before when she was merely just inhabiting the weapon while he used it as a light. It felt… alive somehow, teeming with the same energy that fueled his legs moments ago.

“Alright, Twovi, let's just take things one at a time,” he whispered. He didn’t know if she heard him; he couldn’t seem to sense her reactions and she didn’t make any noise in response. “Remember what they said. Find the heart of corruption, I stick you into it, and you… do your weird thing, and we’re golden. Got that?”

No response. She scared or somethin’? he thought. “Now I know you c-”

One of the houses on the edge of the square exploded in a shrapnel of wood as an enormous creature came through the wall. Beamer quickly rolled behind a stall. He was far enough away that he felt he safely hid, but he could never be too careful. Grip tightening on his weapon, he slowly peeked his head out just enough to where he could see.

Beamer thought he had seen the worst the world could throw at him, but each time he encountered a mutation it seemed to be even more horrible than the previous one. Surprisingly, these things used to be living creatures.

Its sickly purple skin seemed to be constantly moving, twitching, shifting. There were three huge appendages, almost tentacle-like, where the arms and head should have been if it were a human. It towered above the stalls in the marketplace, leaking some kind of liquid as it stalked about. It reminded him of a beast hunting.

Heart thumping, Beamer crouched back down low. It was moving in his direction, and it appeared to not have noticed him yet. But these things were beastial by nature, if it had caught on to his scent or something…

A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead, and the grip on his sword tightened. I always did hate the waiting before a fight, he thought with a hint of chagrin.

The most eerie part is that for a creature that large, it didn’t seem to make any noise other than the scraping of wood as it pushed aside one of the market stalls. No heavy breathing, no sniffing, nothing. So when it stepped right up to Beamer’s stall, he nearly dropped his sword.

It seemed to realize something was in the area, as the mutation had slowed and seemed to be searching for him. He swallowed hard.

With a shout, Beamer rolled out from behind his cover and swiped out with his glowing sword. He could hear Twovi shriek, though it sounded distant. The sword made contact with one of the surprisingly small legs. It bounced off hard instead of sweeping through with the strange sensation Beamer had come to expect.

With the sound of glass shattering, the purple skin around the point of impact fell to pieces, and viscous liquid began to pour out. Beamer jumped to his feet and fell into a battle stance as the mutation collapsed to the ground, unbalanced as it was with the now limp leg.

Though it had no visible mouth, the monster released an incredible roar that nearly deafened Beamer. Quickly moving to action, he chopped at one of the tentacles that he assumed to have once been an arm and it resulted in an effect similar to that of the leg. The skin broke, deep purple liquid began to spill, and it fell limp.

He brought his sword back, but couldn’t get his guard up in time for a different tentacle before it whipped into him. The breath was knocked out of him as he was sent flying, and crashed into the side of a building.

His body was alive with pain as he collapsed to the ground. Vision swimming, he frantically tried to catch his breath. Something was broken for sure, if not several things.

And then suddenly, the pain started to evaporate. Whatever was broken in his chest wasn’t hurting anymore. His breathing grew less erratic. His vision stabilized, and he could see the mutation slowly using its other two tentacles to crawl towards him.

Beamer felt Twovi inside his body, frantically trying to repair him, but he could tell she was quickly getting tired. “Thank you, Twovi,” he said as he forced himself off the ground, grabbing his sword. “You, uh, got enough fight left in you to take him out? Promise I’ll be more careful.”

He received the mental image of her hesitating, but nodding her head. He watched as she jumped from his chest and melded into the sword blade once again. She always does seem a lot more clear-headed in battle, he thought.

With the green aura of his weapon illuminating the slowly approaching mutation, he fell into another battle stance. The immediate threat were the two remaining tentacles, his target could wait until after.

He rushed forward, hoping that his body and mind were still quick enough to react to these unusual battles. He dodged to the left as one of the tentacles crashed down to the ground. Without slowing, he swiped downwards. The sword bounced off, but the sound of glass breaking gave him all the confirmation he needed of a successful strike without looking.

There was another scream from within the creature, and the last tentacle began to move erratically. It jerked around from a new direction, approaching quicker than Beamer could react. “Shi-”

It slammed into his left arm, sending him spiraling into a nearby stall. He could tell his arm was broken, but he didn’t feel nearly as terrible as he did the first time he got hit. Still, with the amount of hits he had been taking-

“Beamer!”

His attentioned returned just as that same tentacle arced back towards him. He held his blade up horizontally in front of him just as the tentacle made contact.

Whatever momentum the grotesque limb carried with it died as soon as it made contact. With a normal sword, that block wouldn’t have saved him. But with Twovi, it felt like anything was possible.

The tentacle’s skin cracked and burst open, drenching Beamer in the gooey liquid that erupted from it's skin. “Disgusting…” he muttered, leather uniform quickly darkening in color.

Through great amount of effort from both the slippery liquid and pain from his arm, Beamer managed to pull himself from the wooden wreckage some time later. The mutation still lived, but it had lost all method of attacking that he could tell. It writhed on the ground, trying to move its body with its one remaining leg. The other leg and tentacles were still attached, just… deflated.

Beamer slowly approached the monster on the ground. There was some kind of low noise coming from it, but what it was supposed to be or represent he couldn’t tell. He tapped its chest with his sword, which he noticed had considerably lost its glow, and it caved in on itself as the liquid inside escaped out of the breaking skin.

Inside was a large, round lump. There it is, that rascal, he thought, The heart of corruption.

He lifted the sword to his face, “You gonna be able to do this?” he asked.

No response. So she’s got a limit to what she can do… Do these Aspects experience exhaustion like a person? He wondered.

In one quick thrust, he pierced the mutation’s heart of corruption. It didn’t die- it kept moving the best it could with its body drained of whatever it was that fueled it. Piercing the heart of corruption would do nothing by itself.

Beamer watched with relief as Twovi’s glow moved from within his blade to inside the creature, entering its heart of corruption. As soon as she made contact, the mutation screamed with a discordant noise.

He held his breath, not daring to move as he watched Twovi work. She had completely left the sword now, and the heart had begun to glow brighter and brighter. The mutation thrashed around more wildly than before, but with only one leg working right it was a pitiful sight.

Just as it got too bright for Beamer to look at directly, the green glow dissipated entirely. The mutation had completely stopped moving. Beamer had seen this only once before, but was just as awestruck when the body started to burn away with tiny flames the same color as Twovi. The cremation, they called it, though no smoke rose and no ash would remain. he stayed until the last of the body burned away, waiting for Twovi to reappear.

She didn’t.

Clutching his arm, he walked back into the train station. The old man was smoking a pipe outside of his office and nearly dropped it when he saw Beamer approach.

“Heavens alive, Son, you’re a mess!” he shouted, rushing towards him.

Beamer grunted, not stopping, “Don’t worry, it feels a lot worse than it looks.”

“I can barely see your uniform under all that… blood? What is that? And the mutation! Did you kill it? Did you get them all?"

“Relax, Rasine, I’ll answer all your questions,” He was so tired, “But first, I’m gonna need your place to rest a bit.”

[gigawords]

Day 5

A few days later, Hector found himself in the most terrifying place he had ever encountered in his entire life. Windward Point was a large city bustling with life, and he was terrified. As they entered the home of Altung and Lymsleia’s headquarters, he had immediately gone pale. Lymsleia had mocked him, but, well, it was quite unfair for someone who had lived on a farm his entire life.

The city itself was as beautiful as he thought it’d be; the hundreds of windmills on the plains outside of the city giving Hector an inkling of what was to come. The same white bricks that made up the majestic farmhouses and trade stops were used for the majority of the buildings inside the city proper, and large bells were a common decoration on top of some of the larger buildings. The reserved but precise use of coloring throughout the city gave off a relaxing aura alongside the sound of waves crashing against a nearby cliff that could put any man to ease

The only problem was the crowds. While a mostly human and dwarven presence dominated the city, hints of several other races were there. Some even Hector couldn’t name. But it was suffocating, and Hector was having a rough time keeping calm.

They had arrived just as the sun was setting, so they were going straight to rest before anything else. The building the hunters had led him to was near one of the outer walls, a medium-sized looking tavern named The Oyster Hunt.

“We went in as partners with a gnome named Hebloo to buy the place,” Altung had explained, “She wanted to run a tavern, we wanted to run a hunting business. So the name of the place kind of represents our different practices.”

Lymsleia flung open the door with such force the door slam caused a few nearby dining patrons to jump. Altung sighed audibly and followed inside, so Hector nervously entered amidst the angry scowls.

“Fear not!” She began, gesturing wildly with her arms, “For we have returned with grand news! Let it be known that there are now three less vampire menaces in the world thanks to the bravery of yours truly!”

“Didn’t ye kill off ten of ‘em blokes just last month?” Shouted a patron near the back.

The grin on her lips gave Hector the impression that Lymsleia was waiting for a response such as that. “True that may be, beloved guest, but these were no three ordinary vampires! We tracked down three master vampires that had eluded eluded kingdoms for decades!”

As she continued her inflated story of the Hillbreeze vampire menace (despite a variety of mixed responses from the patrons), Hector huddled next to Sir Sheepsbane next to the entrance. Against the crowd, he felt at peace when around his faithful hound.

His eyes soon found Altung as he moved through the room at a much more reserved pace. He quietly greeted some of the more hardier-looking guests with slaps on the backs and playful punches.

“Hey, hey, hey! No mutts allowed!” said a sudden nearby voice.

Hector jumped to his feet, frantically searching for the source.

“Up here.”

He looked at the nearby bar where a gnome was standing, hands on her hips. “Yeah, not used to looking up to a gnome, huh, human? That’s called putting yourself in power.”

“E-erm…” Hector stumbled, “I didn’t mean nothin’ with bringing my hound in here. I was jus-”

“Just being a nuisance. This isn’t a barn. Now get out.” she said.

He felt his cheeks redden, and a large part of him wanted to leave immediately. Hells, a large part of him wanted to leave this entire city immediately. “No I’m… I’m with uh… hunters. Lymsleia. Altung.”

She angrily looked him up and down and clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Damn those two. Too soft-hearted to be any use actually hunting. Altung! Lymsleia!” She shouted across the tavern, “Is this farmhand yours?” She said “farmhand” with such animosity that Hector thought she considered it a slur.

“That!” Lymsleia said facetiously, “That’s Altung and I’s lovechild! How dare you!” Nearby, Altung rubbed his temples and grumbled something as the tavern chuckled. Well, everyone except this gnome.

She finally looked back down at Hector. “Fine, it looks like you’re with them but that mutt either stays in the backroom or outside. Not in my tavern. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am!” He quickly replied.

“Well go ahead and take him back.” She said, pointing a thumb at a large door opposite of the entrance. A large sign hung on the wall beside it with “Hunter Agency” written on it with bright red letters. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to have a crudely-drawn skull on it drawn in charcoal that someone tried to scratch out unsuccessfully.

Unsure of what to do, Hector reluctantly left Altung and Lymselia behind and approached the door. Keeping a hand on Sir Sheepsbane, he slowly pushed the door open and entered.

Inside was a completely different atmosphere than the room he left behind. He appeared to be in some sort of lobby area; with a stone floor and a plush rug, some wooden chairs, and a great wooden writing desk facing the entrance. To the left were four doors, and a small hallway to the right led to a large room that Hector assumed took up the remainder of the space allocated to the hunters.

Tired from the travel, Sir Sheepsbane immediately curled up in the middle of the rug and began to rest. He yawned, and Hector couldn’t help but smile. He was glad that he could bring a piece of Hillbreeze with him in this scary new town.

He sat in one of the chairs, admiring the decorations along the wall. Trophies, it would appear. A few skulls, vials of various colored liquids, and strangely enough the mounted head of a zombie. It was by far the most grotesque thing displayed in this lobby, and Hector had a hard time looking at it.

Several minutes passed, and boredom eventually gave way to his curiosity. He began to peer through each of the rooms on the left, examining them one by one. The first one appeared to be Lymsleia’s room, neat and organized with a small shelf of books being the only piece of furniture besides the bed and wardrobe. The rooms were scarcely large enough for much more.

Next down the row was what Hector guessed to be Altung’s room. Far messier and cluttered, it contained a tiny workbench and what appeared to be some sort of alchemy station. Glass bottles lay everywhere in the room, giving the dark atmosphere a beautiful rainbow of glowing colors.

Next to his room was what appeared to be a storage closet, but judging by the dust it was barely used. There were a few weapons, Hector noted, but those had an equal amount of dust gathered.

Lastly was the washroom, though nothing of import was here. But Hector’s curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied until he checked inside the larger room.

Walking back across the lobby, Hector approached the double doors leading to the final room. He idled there for a moment, as if waiting for something to stop him. Nothing happened, so he pushed open the door.

“Lymsleia!” Hector stumbled back into the tavern, pale-faced as he searched for the tall elf. She as well as the group she was telling stories to turned to face him. “In the big room!” S-someone..! Dead!”

The entire tavern grew quiet as Lymsleia and Altung grew serious and drew their weapons. With a deftness Hector hadn’t seen in weeks, they dashed through the door and immediately turned towards the larger room of the agency.

Bursting through the double doors, Lymsleia ran in first, silver rapier in hand, Altung close behind with his enormous crossbow loaded and ready to fire. Strangely, Hector found himself following behind. A large round table took up most of the room with what appeared to be a delicately decorated map of the continent, Vis Vorentia. Surrounding the table were several chairs of different material and design, and perched in the only throne in the room was a half-decayed body of a middle-aged human woman.

“Mushe!” Lymsleia cried, dropped her sword. Altung exhaled sharply and lowered his weapon, turning as f to leave. “Mushe, my friend, my dearest comrade…” She said, hunching over, hands on the map table. Hector felt his heart sank as he tried to avert his eyes. “How could this happen…? How could you…”

“How could you not clean up the damn place while we were gone?!” Lymsleia continued, tone of voice suddenly changing as she draped dramatically over the table.

Hector paused, and turned towards her. “W-wha…?”

Suddenly, the corpse started giggling, then burst out in a full fit of laughter. The eerie sight made Hector jump backwards. The half-corpse started slamming it's one skeleton fist down on the table. Lymsleia pulled herself off the table and started laughing as well.

“I-Is… it’s an undead..?” Hector said, confused.

“Not quite.” Said the… thing. She had a normal human’s voice, at least. The rest of her body was… there were various chunks of skin and flesh missing where skeleton shown through, including in her face. “I’m kind-of like, half undead. On my mother’s side.”

When he didn’t respond, Altung spoke up from behind, though Hector could tell he was trying to hide a smile. “This is Mushe. She’s kind-of like our leader. She was hunting long before I started, and had been heavily cursed. But she’s our dear friend.”

Hector’s mind still felt like it was struggling to catch up. “An… undead lady… leading an agency of undead hunters?”

“It sounds weird, I’m well aware,” Lymsleia said, “But without her we wouldn’t be nearly as successful as we are. She can’t hunt, but her unique state lets her sense disturbances in the manaerical flow that let us more accurately find undead abominations. Like your little vampire menace.”

“I’m sorry to have scared you, young man, but Lymsleia and I haven’t got to do our bit in such a long time. So when I saw you poking around I couldn’t help myself.”

Hector felt his face go red, and Mushe seemed to lean back in her chair as Lymsleia excused herself to inform the rest of the tavern that there was no need for alarm. Altung had taken the liberty to inform Mushe of their report on Hillbreeze, and explained why it was Hector was with them.

“So your entire village was taken, poor thing. You may stay with us if you help out around the place. But Altung, I’d advise against recruiting any more youths. We’re a hunting agency, not an orphanage. No offense, Sir Hector.”

“Er, yes… sorry about that.” Altung said with, what Hector detected, a bit of sheepishness?

“I’ll do what I can to earn my keep here, Ma’am,” Hector said, though still had a hard time looking the thing in her eyes. “Me ‘n Sir Sheepsbane just don’t have nowhere else to go.”

She smiled at him, “No need for formalities, son, just call me Mushe. You can stay in that storage room if you can clean it out. You’ll be helping out with our day-to-day chores so that Hebloo can stop sending her workers back here.”

Hector nodded, feeling a sense of relief he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Now, Altung,” Mushe said, turning towards him. “I recommend you and Lymsleia get some rest. I’ve already got our next hit, and it’s much, much more difficult than hunting three up-start vampires.”

Day 1 2 3 4 / Next

[gigawords]

Day 4

Sunlight had never felt more warm. Hector joined Altung and Lymsleia as they exited the cave and the warm rays of the midday sun piercing the trees seemed to wrap around him. He took a deep breath of the fresh air, but instead of giving him the refreshing feeling he expected, his emotions remained in turmoil.

Altung must have seen the pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry about your village, Kid. If we had been a bit sooner…”

Hector shook his head, pointedly looking away from the stake outside the cave with the dwarven head stuck upon it. “Somehow I… Well, I figured it would be too late. I took too long to track ‘em down, though it all kind of felt like a blur after I found the village...”

“So what are you going to do now?” Lymsleia asked in a voice that Hector considered far too chipper. “Will you return to your village and rebuild? Or perhaps move to another village?”

“I doubt the boy would want to return to a place where memories of his friends and family are still fresh on his mind,” Altung said.

Suddenly, a bark sounded from a creature nearby. Altung and Lymsleia reached for their weapons as the sound of a creature rushing through the underbrush approached.

“Sir Sheepsbane?!” Hector cried hopefully. As if in response, the faithful sheep hound burst forward towards him, tail wagging furiously. Hector hugged him as if he was his last friend in the world. No, he was his last friend in the world.

Altung chuckled, “Ah, the famous knight Sir Sheepsbane has survived the vampire menace. All is not lost it seems.” Strangely enough, Lymsleia had very quickly moved behind him, and apprehension filled her eyes.

After spending a long moment with Sir Sheepsbane, the duo hunters had led Hector back to their camp a short while away. They had given him some food while they broke down their camp and packed their belongings.

Sheepsbane by his side, he finally gave himself time enough between bites to speak. “I… Do you two think I can stay with y’all?”

Lymsleia finished tying her bedroll up before responding. “I know you’re in a bad spot, Hector, and I understand the pain you’re going through. But we are… I mean, sweetie, we don’t exactly live a lifestyle befitting that of a young farmer boy.”

“I can help!” He said, “I mean, I’ll do any of the cleanin’ and any chores ya need and earn my keep! I just… I don’t wanna be alone. And I have to have something to do. Something that’ll make me think of… well, anything else.”

She looked to Altung, who shrugged in response. “I… suppose we could use someone to help Oda out around the shop.” She smiled and ruffled Hector’s hair, “Welcome to this ragtag group then. We’ll have to see if Oda’s okay with it first before we make it official, since she’s a little like our leader.”

Hector felt a weight lift up from him. His feelings still felt a bit smothered; whether that was from Altung’s potion or just him still in shock from everything that had happened he couldn’t tell. But for now, he had a way forward. He never again wanted to feel as lost as he felt on that first day where he had discovered his entire village missing.

No, he would leave this life behind. He would bury those memories while he still had momentum; before he could slow down and really think about what had happened.

Despite this, that night the potion’s effects had worn off, and Hector cried.

Day 1 2 3 / Next

[gigawords]

Day 3

The sound of applause came from behind. Hector spun to see another black-robed figure emerge from the shadows of one of the tunnels in the cave.

“You didn’t kill the third one on you way in?” Altung hissed.

“And did you really spend all your time infiltrating just sleeping?” Lymsleia said in response, while keeping her eyes forward.

The figure approached, a grey beard poking out from beneath the hood that seemed to hide the other features of his face. “And here I thought that we’d be far away enough from civilization that no vampire hunters would even bother to come out this far. I spent a lot of time and resources on those newbloods, you know.”

“You can always tell how bad a vampire is by their over-the-top dramatics.” Lymsleia said to Hector, though loud enough for the vampire to hear. She stepped in between them. “From how quickly they went down, you should have spent a little bit more time and resources on them.” She said casually.

He finally stopped a few meters in front of them and slowly pushed back his hood. He was bald, with a sinister-looking tattoo crawling up the left side of his face. “Cute. Do you think I’m going to let you three leave here alive? Perhaps I’ll take the boy in on my own, but as for you two…” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I’ve no use for the likes of you.”

As he spoke, his eyes began to glow a little bit more, and a faint red aura began to form around his hands. Altung grunted, and began to load a bolt into his crossbow, but Lymsleia stopped him with an upraised hand. “Let me have some fun with this one, old man.”

Altung grumbled something about elven lifespan, but pulled Hector back with a quick “Let’s give her some space.”

Lymsleia had taken out a small white cloth and was wiping blood off the blade. “Sir Girvain, do you know why we decided to hunt you down?”

The vampire, whose name appeared to Girvain, idly began to check his nails. “Was it that I turned someone of importance in your society? Did I kill one of your friends or loved ones? Please, pray tell what fuels your anger enough that you’d stalk me to this backwards part of the land?”

She chuckled, “No, no it’s nothing like that at all. Your bounty, turns out, was so low that you almost weren’t worth hunting. You hadn’t amassed any thralls, and your only two vampire trainees from what we discovered came to you voluntarily. No, friend, you are so far down the priority list for most hunters wouldn’t even bother with you.”

All pretense of composure began to melt away from the old vampire’s face. “No, we are not after fame and fortune.” Lymsleia continued, “We hunt because we want to rid the world of all undead, and though you may think highly of yourself, we’re hunting you because, honestly, no one else could be bothered to.”

With a primal shout, Girvain launched himself towards Lymsleia. He closed the distance with unnaturally fast speed, with one hand outstretched towards Lymsleia’s neck.

With an equally fast reaction, Lymsleia blocked it with her thin-bladed sword. Oddly enough, Hector noted, the vampires hand under that reddish aura didn’t seem to be cut at all. Girvain quickly followed through with a slash from his other hand, but she dodged to the side with little effort.

“What’s that glow around his hands?” Hector asked Altung as the two in front of them continued their dance of attacks and dodges.

He didn’t take his eyes off the battle. “Some kind of weird vampiric magi that acts as like a defense and an offense at the same time. If it connects, it can drain you of your vigor while healing them. It also makes their skin like iron around the red glowing parts.”

Hector nodded, and let himself fall quiet as he returned to watch the duel, though it seemed heavily one-sided. While Lymsleia hadn’t made any move to attack, she remained calm and composed. In contrast, Girvain’s attacks came more frantic as sweat dotted his forehead.

Suddenly, Lymsleia stepped into an attack. Caught off guard, Girvain had swung wide with his right hand outstretched and had no time to react. She quickly sliced through his arm with a clean swing of her blade, then bashed him backwards with her shoulder.

As he staggered back, she spun on her feet and charged towards him at a breakneck speed without losing her balance. Another swing lopped his remaining arm off at the elbow. As the the severed hands fell, the red glow dissipated.

She didn’t stop her momentum. With only time enough to give a cry of pain, Lymsleia delivered a spinning kick to his head, knocking him to the floor on his back.

He crashed hard, blood seeping from his two arms where his hands once were. Hector felt that without Altung’s drink, he would have brought up whatever was left in his stomach. I’ve decided I’ve had enough of missing body parts.

“You… you… bitch!” He groaned, “After all… I’ve done!”

“Done?” Lymsleia asked amusingly as she slowly walked towards him, sword gleaming silver. “Love, the only thing you’ve done was give my partner a little nap.”

And in one quick motion, her sword had pierced clean through his heart, and even seemed to sink into the stone floor below.

Day 1 2 / Next

[gigawords]

Day 2

They emerged from the tunnel some time later. Apparently, they were on the upper level of the cave, as the exit led directly onto a shoddy bridge that spanned across what appeared to be the main chamber of the cave.

Altung held up a hand to halt Hector, and they peered over the edge. Directly below there was a group of people talking in loud, forceful voices. They could hear some form of commotion as they approached, and it appeared that this was the source.

Directly in front of a lone woman stood two imposing figures in black robes, one with a dagger pointed right at her. Surrounding them was a semicircle of too-quiet people that didn’t seem to even breathe, and the bodies strewn along the ground appeared to be from that group.

“I’ll only tell you once more, elf. Drop your blade or we kill you where you stand.”

The woman responded as she lowered what appeared to be a thin sword. “Oh? You don’t think I’m pretty enough to keep me around as a thrall? Elves not quite your thing? You know we’re quite well known for our beauty. I bet if-”

“Silence!” shouted the second robed figure. He rubbed his head. “You are by far the biggest headache I’ve ever had to deal with. Kill her and be done with it.”

“Now, now, let’s not be hasty!” She said. “Let’s see... you have a commanding presence. Are you, perhaps, the elder vampire here?”

There was a grunt for a response.

“You, the one to my left, yes?” She asked.

“Why does tha-”

Before he had time to respond, an enormous crossbow bolt pierced the man’s skull with such velocity, his body seemed to just suddenly be pinned to the floor of the cave.

Hector let out a yelp, turning to see Altung with his crossbow out. When had he set that up?

“‘Tis a shame! A few years younger and he would have been my type.” Came the woman’s voice from below. There was a sudden confused cry not unlike Hector’s, and when he turned his attention back down, the elf had her blade through the chest of the remaining robed man.

As if in response to the death of the two robed men, the semi-circle of eerie watchers all seemed to collapse in a heap, and Hector could hear Altung swear under his breath. “Come on.”

A few minutes, and Hector and Altung approached the elf on the ground floor, cleaning her blade. “Well now! I send you in for just a bit of light recon and you go and get yourself caught anyway?” She said.

“Must I remind you how many times I’ve said I’m no spy?” Altung said, shouldering his crossbow. “Besides, it worked out. This is Hector.” He cusped Hector’s shoulder and pulled him forward. “Kid’s from the same village all these thralls came from. Think he’s the last one.”

“Oh I see!” She exclaimed, eyes alight. “My name is Lymsleia! Professional vampire hunter and duelist! One of the best!” She gave Hector what he thought to be the most elegant bow he had ever seen. “Probably!”

“Er,” Hector stammered, “It’s my honor, uh, Sir- uh, I mean, Lady Lymsleia.” Not only was it strange enough speaking to an elf, but the bow had thrown him for a loop since firstly, it was a more masculine gesture and secondly, he was nowhere near important enough to be bowed to. “Do… do you know if the other villagers are okay?”

Lymsleia straightened back up, and shared a look with Altung before responding. “I’m sorry, dear Hector. Your friends… it’s been too long. I wish we could have gotten here faster.”

His heart sank deep within his chest. He could feel that strong, powerful emotion dragging him down despite the concoction Altung had given him earlier. This was all for nothing, then..?

Day 1 / Next

[gigawords]

Day 1

It was hazy, that much he realized. Hector knew that he had just gotten back to the outskirts of the village after a hard day on the farm. Harder than usual, as most other farmers had been back for a few hours now. Sir Sheepsbane sat along beside him, but he was alert. Strange, that.

This was… that day? The thought seemed to float around him, though he had a hard time holding the thought. The village shifted suddenly, the landscape seemed to suddenly move around him without him having to take a step. He was in the middle of Hillbreeze Square, the usually crowded marketplace. It was eerily quiet.

Sir Sheepsbane growled at something blurry at the corner of his eye, but try as he might he couldn’t turn to look at it. He knew that if he did look at the object, it would disappear immediately.

The scene shifted again. His loyal friend was in front of him, sniffing the ground and winding through the trees of the forest. It was dark, and Hector was… crying? There was a weight on his back, which he knew was a knapsack filled with essentials for long travel. Or, well, what he thought was essentials for long travels. He’d never done this before, after all.

Once again, the world moved around him though he had yet to take a single step. His vision was getting hazier, it was getting hard to focus on objects. This scene only had one: the head of a dwarf impaled upon a stick beside the entrance to a cave. Though he didn’t remember doing so, he knew he had just released the contents of his stomach. The features were unclear, though Hillbreeze only had one dwarf.

The world began to shift again, but as it did, he felt a pain. Crisp pain. Everything except this pain was hazy. It came from within, it was electrifying. It hurt so much. It-

Hector gasped as he came awake. He was sitting up, gasping for air. The haziness was gone, replaced by the lingering feeling of pain that pulsed throughout his whole body. He grasped at his heart over his bare chest, covered in sweat.

“Careful there, kid. It’ll wear off in a bit.” A husky, gruff voice came from beside him. “Elitzshrooms. When consumed, it gives your body a powerful shock enough to wake even the dead from any magi-induced slumbers. Swallow it with a certain amount of alesap to delay the effect.”

He turned, still breathing hard, to face a muscular green-skinned man sitting across from him. An orc? In the countryside? His attention was on something he was fiddling with in his hands.

He spoke in a hushed tone, “You were here before I was. Which is honestly a miracle that you’re still alive or untouched.”

The orc didn’t continue, so Hector looked around. It was… a cave. He was in a crudely-made cage big enough for several grown humans in some kind of cave. Yes, it was returning to him now. He had tracked down whatever it was that had taken his village to this cave and… he had confronted something in the dark. Something with glowing eyes. It said something, and then everything went dark.

Raw, hard emotions flooded back to him as the dream reopened the wounds of recent memories he tried to forget. “Stupid…” he muttered.

“What was that?” asked the orc.

Hector curled up, hugging his legs. “Stupid of me to think I could save ‘em all myself…” It was humiliating how hard he had worked to find them only to get put to sleep immediately on finding them.

The orc in the corner of the cage stopped working and finally turned towards him. “How old are you, son?”

“Sixteen this year.”

He grunted. “Young for a vampire hunter, but not unheard of. Surprised you managed to track them down this far out.”

“Vampi-” Hector stuttered. “Vampires?! They’re… real? I thought I was following them bandits that had been botherin’ us for so long.” The glowing eyes. He shuddered. He had been following a vampire this whole time?

His caged companion chuckled softly. “I’ll eat a horse if I ever come across a bandit that has a hypnosis spell as potent as the one that got us.” He offered his hand and a small bottle to Hector. “Here. Drink. We’ve been out for days, no doubt, so your body needs some help catching up.”

He took the bottle, but hesitated. The orc rolled his eyes. “Kid, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have bothered to wake you up. Drink.” He sounded much more forceful this time.

Hector downed the whole thing in one gulp, and immediately felt better. His breathing steadied, his tensed body relaxed, and his heart rate slowed. In fact, as he reflected on the effects of the drink, he noticed that he didn’t feel quite as panicked as he thought he should be in this situation.

“That,” began the orc, “is an original concoction. It’s a depressant that soothes your body and mind. Made yours a bit stronger.” he tossed him Hector’s shirt. “Name’s Altung, undead hunter. One of the best. Probably.”

Hector pulled his shirt back on. “If your here as well, don’t that mean you got caught too?”

Altung glared at him, “Sometimes mistakes are made on missions. Like saving ungrateful farm boys from becoming vampire food.” Hector blushed, but Altung kept talking. “What’s important is I was prepared for mistakes. What’s your name?”

“Hector. I… My village was gone when I got back. Some folk were dead. A lot of folk were taken. Me ‘n Sir Sheepsbane went to track the rest of ‘em down and…”

“Sir Sheepsbane?” Altung asked in a disbelieving tone.

“Er…” Hector blushed again. “He’s a dog… I named him when I was a kid.” Hector immediately started looking around, panicked. “Sir Sheepsbane! Where- Is he okay?!”

“Don’t know.” Altung said. He slid something from his sleeve, leaned forward, and started fiddling with the lock. “But we’re not going to find out here. We’ll save him if we can. Companions are important after all.” There was a small click, and he removed the lock. “Mine should be making a frontal assault right about now.”

Hector stared as Altung slowly pushed the cage door open. Escape? Vampires? Undead hunters? Assault? “Um… Mister Altung, sir, this is… a lot to take in.”

Altung grunted. “And there’s going to be even more surprises for you in the near future. If you want to be alive for all of them I’d recommend you keep quiet and just follow me. I’ll keep you alive.”

With that, Altung pushed out of the gate in a slow crouch-like walk. Hector followed suit, though his heart seemed to pick back up again. Just the other day he was a simple farm boy and now he’s in a vampire’s cave following some orc that claims to hunt the undead?

They approached what appeared to be a table with a large, open crate on top of it. There were a few lit torches on the wall that gave them enough light to see, though the coloring of the fire seemed… wrong? Inside was the small sword Hector had taken with him from the blacksmith’s shop in Hillbreeze, along with an enormous crossbow that was about the size of a man that was sticking out, a collection of knives and daggers, and other small trinkets of variety.

“Luckily,” Altung begun as he removed the crossbow, “These vampires are arrogant and stupid. Arrogant, since they assumed we wouldn’t know about their hypnosis magi; and stupid since they didn’t assign a thrall to stay watch of prisoners.” He tossed Hector his sword. “Know how to use one of these?”

Hector reacted too slowly, and caught it clumsily. “I-I uh… Ain’t it just swinging the sharp end at the bad guy?”

The orc drew a sharp breath and shook his head. “Nevermind. Stay out of the fighting.” He started pulling out knife after knife and sticking them in strange places like his boots and up his sleeves. “Did you know that there’s three of them? One older one and two newer apprentices. They probably moved out here for general vampire training and thrall enslavement.”

“Thrall? Sir?” Hector asked.

“They’re the victims of some weird vampire mind-control magi. If we’re quick enough with the hunt, we can usually save them. If not, their minds snap when we kill their masters.” Hector opened his mouth, but Altung cut him off. “Before you ask, I’m not sure about your village.”

He stopped rummaging through the box long enough to turn and place a hand on Hector’s shoulders. His fiery red eyes seemed to stare into Hector’s very soul. “Listen, kid, you better prepare yourself for the worst now. I can’t guarantee I can save anyone from your village if there’s anyone left to save but I can guarantee saving you if you follow my instructions. Can you do that?” Hector nodded slowly, doing his absolute best to think about anything that wasn’t the faces he grew up with his whole life.

“Good.” Altung said, letting go. “They won’t expect an attack on both fronts. I timed my own elitzshroom concoction to wake me up around midday, so they won’t be able to escape outside. Lymsleia knows I’ll be awake by now so she’ll be distracting them from the front of the cave. Let’s go.”

Next Day

[gigawords]

Writing Goal

Following @awritingmowsy‘s example I was inspired to do my own 500 words a day writing challenge. I really do wanna be a better writer, so I feel like this would be a great exercise. Words may exceed 500 a day but I have to hit at least 500. So just a heads up hopefully this blog will be a bit more active

[gigawords]

Time To Catch Up

(A/N) A reunion between the magic twins themselves! Romeo and Luciana are sibling characters created by me and @346pro​. Romeo being my character, Luciana being hers. While we created them several years ago, @346pro​ had recently recreated Luciana for an RP, and I decided that Romeo should be updated as well. They may have changed quite a bit from who they were originally, but hey, OCs grow!

“Thank you!” She yelled behind her as she left the store. In her hands she carried two large paper bags. Though she hadn’t been in Windfall for more than a few months, she had already established her favorite stores.

Something nearby and not too noisy. She thought to herself, in one of her rare good moods. Though, they have been coming more commonly as of late.

“This change was good for me. Is good for.” She whispered to herself, bolstering her determination. Nothing terrible had happened since she had moved, and old memories began to fade with new ones replacing them.

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed that she had begun to walk alongside a small crowd along the sidewalk. The city was small, so even during the lunch hour the crowds weren’t too large. People still made her a tad nervous, but the lower population made Windfall a bit more bearable.

She clutched the bags closer to her chest, staring down at their contents as she continued forward. “I’m getting better, though.” She whispered once more. For some reason, she felt as if saying things out loud gave the words more conviction. “I am.”

In her apparent fascination with her groceries, she failed to notice an individual walking towards her direction. The two bumped shoulders, causing her to stumble, dropping an apple from one of the paper bags. She quickly caught herself before completely tripping, quickly spinning back around.

“I-I’m sorry! So sorry!” She stammered. The person wore a hoodie, and with his or her back towards her she was unable to see any kind of reaction. In fact, she didn’t even know if they had heard her. They kept walking, as if oblivious to the impact.

She looked after them for a long second, before turning back to the direction she had previously been facing. “Stupid.” She muttered, chastising herself. She bent down to pick up the apple that had fallen out of the bag.

And froze.

Or more accurately, the apple had frozen. In mid-air.

Staring in disbelief, she held her breath. “How…?” She began, but trailed off as she looked around her. It wasn’t just the apple. The people walking alongside her had frozen as well. One man in the middle of a bite of his sandwich. A teenage girl with her mouth stopped wide open, as if talking to her friend. A car on the street, motionless.

That wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Everything around her had their colors warped. Only slightly, and it was barely noticeable, but if she looked hard enough it appeared that everything had a more gray-ish hue to it. The bright yellow car now slightly duller; her apple more a little bit less red.

She stood up straight. Her mind was slow to grasp what was going on, but then it hit her. Time had stopped. But there was only one person in the world that had access to that kind of ability. The kind of power that could make the whole universe stand still. The most prestigious kind of magic that one could inherit from her homeland lineage.

“Luciana.”

The voice came from behind. She spun, refusing to breathe. It came from the one in the hoodie. Their colors remained true, not affected by the graying affect the rest of the world now suffered from. The person slowly turned around, lowering their hood. Bright blonde hair came first, before a face identical to her own was revealed, staring deep into her eyes.

“I… Romeo…?” Luciana finally breathed, emotions whirling inside her chest.

“Sister.” He said clearly. Calmly. He was several meters away from her now, but she felt as if he were miles away in this space of frozen time.

She didn’t respond, and he continued, sighing audibly. “You don’t know how difficult it was for me to find you, you know.”

There was another stretch of silence. Her tongue felt glued to the top of her mouth, though she swallowed hard. The only clear thought that came to the front of her mind was, “Were his eyes always so piercing?”

Romeo, her twin brother, took a step forward, intense eyes never leaving Luciana’s. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances. I really do. But, well…”

“W…what..?” She managed to say. She took a step back. Why was she stepping back?

His eyes glanced at her feet, before coming back forward, offering a warm smile. “Still the same scared Luciana.”

Inside, she did feel scared. She felt nervous. Finally, she was beginning to move on from her past – become a better person. Become a better Luciana. And now the past had caught up to her just like that? Judging by her twin’s tone, he wasn’t there just to say hi.

She felt a small flicker of something burn from within.

Forcing herself to take a breath, she managed to calm herself down a little. “Why… are you here?”

The sudden determination in her voice not only surprised her, but Romeo as well. He raised an eyebrow, as if impressed, before his face grew serious. “Mother and father want you home. Our family is… in an awkward position without both the Chronis twins around. You know how they are.”

He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. A fancy silver one, that. “I was told to retrieve you. So… let’s go. Don’t worry about your things. You’ll have everything you need when we get back home.”

Suddenly, Luciana’s whole world began to spin. Her heart sank, her breath became short. “No…” she thought, “No, no this can’t… I don’t want to go back. I’m better here.”

Memories began to flood back into her mind. Memories of her being neglected, losing her twin brother as he was whisked away to tutor after tutor while she was ignored by all in her family. She had convinced herself that her parents didn’t care. Nobody in her family had cared about her after they found out Romeo inherited the time magic. She was alone all her life and now that she was finally starting to become independent, now that she was comfortable with herself and her position, they wanted to bring her back?

Somehow, the thought of being back home with her family sounded lonelier than living on her own.

“I… I won’t.” She said quietly. Quiet, but determined.

Her brother cocked his head. “What?”

Luciana gently placed her bags on the ground beside her, before facing him once more, back straight, “I said… I won’t. I’m happy here, Romeo, and so I… I won’t go home with you.” Though her voice cracked despite her best effort, she kept her eyes forward.

He studied her face for a long moment. His lips tightened. “You know how our parents are, Luciana. You know I can’t just go back without you.”

She nodded, gripping the rose tattoo on her right wrist with tight fingers. The shaking she had felt in her arms calmed a little.

“So… what? You’re going to resist me?” He asked, an edge in his voice. “You remember I’m the one with the time magic, right?” He gestured to the grayed environment around them. So perfectly still. It was eerie. “I can stop you just as easily as everyone else. I can freeze you, take you back home, and have you in front of our parents before you can even blink.”

Luciana glanced down, then assumed what she thought was a fairly convincing fighting pose. This seemed to further displease Romeo.

“Are we really going to do this?” His voice was cold and quiet. “Are you really going to try to fight me, your own brother, in order to keep up this façade of independence?”

She shook her head, feeling herself shake a bit more. “It’s not a façade.”

“Alright then.” Silence.

Then, “Here we go, sister. Prepare yourself, if you can do so in time.”

She felt a wave of panic wash over her. She didn’t have very much combat experience, and she didn’t have time to materialize anything to defend herself with. Not that it would do her any good. Was he really so powerful he could freeze time long enough to drag her all the way home before she knew it? Is everything really coming to an en-

Suddenly, Romeo was gone from where he was standing. She felt arms around her as Romeo was no longer where he stood just seconds before, but directly in front of her. Embracing her.

“Thank the three gods.” He breathed. There was a warmness in his voice that Luciana hadn’t heard before.

“What?”

After what felt like several minutes of Romeo hugging her while she stood there dumbly, he finally stepped back, hands on her shoulders, but with a warm face beaming where a cold and distant one had been just seconds before.

“What…?” she asked out loud.

He gave a small chuckle. His whole demeanor had changed. “You don’t know how happy I am that you stood up for yourself. You’re so strong, Luciana.”

Her mind had refused to work. She just continued to blankly explore his expression. Strange, how fierce his eye still seemed, yet she sensed no animosity from them. A passing thought told her that she was no longer shaking. In fact, where icy fear once held her was a warmth she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

He suddenly looked very guilty. “I’m uh… I’m sorry for threatening you like that. Let me explain.”

Stepping back, he finally let go of her shoulders as he straightened the tie on his suit. His hoodie lie on the ground where he had originally stood.

“I guess I need to start with this. The part about being sent here to retrieve you wasn’t a lie. Our parents, the government… they want you back. They want to do further experiments on you. They still believe you may have some latent power in you yet. And mother and father just want their perfect little family back together as one. They have appearances to keep up, after all.”

Although the fear of being forced back down had started to die down just a little, it quickly bubbled back up. Her mind was finally working again. “T-Then… you’re really going to-“

“No.” Romeo cut her off quickly. The edge in his voice and the keenness in his eyes were back. “No. I refuse to take you back to them. I did that whole… act so that I could seriously see how you felt about your current conditions. If you were truly happy here or if I needed to provide a way back home if needed.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “A simple chat would have been enough…” she thought with chagrin.

He seemed embarrassed by her reaction. “Sorry. I’m… really not the best at taking others’ feelings into consideration, but it seemed like the best way to see how you were honestly doing here.”

Another glance at his watch, and he was back to a smile. “No, I won’t take you away from here. Mother, father, and all the rest will have to be content with just me. I’ll make sure you’re not bothered again, Luciana.”

The fear had quickly died back down. Maybe she was believing in his words too quickly, especially after the initial “act”, but this was her twin brother. She started seeing signs of the same Romeo she knew before she left home.

No, before even that.  She saw the brother she had smiled with and played with all her life before his powers manifested, resulting in him being taken away to become the perfect heir.

“But why?” she said, confusion still tinging her words.

“Because, Luciana.” A slight sense of anger could be felt in his words, “They will never let you have freedom again. You have something so incredibly precious right here, and they would take it away from you.”

“But… you don’t have freedom? You’re the Chronis heir, though. You’re one of the most important people in T’Libaire, right…?” Luciana asked.

“All the more reason to keep me on a leash.” He hissed. He opened up the inside of his suit jacket, where a shiny metal badge reflected the sunlight. “Although I can’t really give you the details…” he started, quickly closing the jacket and re-buttoning it, “This means I’m government property. I’m one of T’Libaire’s most powerful agents. I… fix things in the name of the Chronis family as well as our country. I couldn’t run away even if I wanted to. Even with this power...”

Luciana caught a glimpse of longing in his eyes, before it was quickly replaced by the same hardness it held before. “But I won’t let that happen to you. I want you to know that I’m on your side. Out of all the people in this world, and out of all the power this bloodline has given me, you are my only sister. You are my only friend.”

She found her thumb stroking the rose tattoo on her wrist. “Has… has he felt like this the whole time? Was I not the only one who was lonely…?”

Romeo glanced up at the sky, “I know it’s been a long time since I’ve last seen you and it’s a lot of information to take in… but I hope that you believe me.” Again, the small smile on his lips surfaced. “I was never the best at conversations. And I really do want to catch up with you. But meeting up with you is dangerous.”

She found herself shaking her head. “No, I… I believe you.” Her own tiny smile began to emerge. “It really is nice to know that you’re on my side. I’ve… well, I never expected you to really care that much about me.”

Despite the nature of the sentence, his smile only deepened. “I know, I know. But just remember that I’m always going to be looking after you. I placed a card in one of your bags when I bumped into you earlier. That number will let you reach me any time, any place. If you’re ever in an emergency, I will stop time and come straight to you.”

Luciana nodded, “Um…! Well, since you’re here, do you want to have dinner and spend some time together? Just one night?”

He shook his head sadly. “I would give anything in the world to have that opportunity.” Another glance at his watch. “But I have to go. This short meeting alone took a long time for me to set up. And I can’t keep time stopped forever.”

He stepped forward and hugged her once more. “I’m really glad that you’re okay out here. And I wish I could do more.”

Returning the hug, Luciana was beginning to get the sense that she was about to go several years before seeing him again. A sudden appearance and a disappearance just as swift. “Oh…” disappointment apparent in her voice, “Well next time, I’ll help you too! I can make magic tattoos now, you know? Enchanted ones. I’m really good at it, too.” She said the latter part with a bit of satisfaction. She wasn’t the best at it, true, but it felt good to have some skill that Romeo wasn’t better than her at.

“A bit of that sibling rivalry still exists in me, huh?” she thought, grinning inwardly.

Stepping back with a smile on his face, he straightened his tie again. “I’d appreciate that. Before I go, though, you should know that when time resumes its normal speed, your body might struggle to catch up for a moment. It might be… unpleasant, but it’ll pass soon.”

This didn’t really bother her. “So… this is bye? Already? After all this time?

Romeo looked remorse. “I’m… sorry. But yes. Remember, though. I’m always here. Do your best, okay?” He smiled sadly one last time.

Before she could reply, she felt… something. A disturbance in the air. Steeling herself for whatever disturbance Romeo had warned her about, she squeezed her eyes shut and clutched again at the rose tattoo for comfort.

There was a whoosh, and then the noise of the world was suddenly all around her. Cars whizzing by, friends chatting as they walked past in heels that clacked against the sidewalk, a man smacking as he chewed loudly.

She opened her eyes. The colors of the world had returned, and there was life all around her. She shivered, just now realizing how creepy the world seemed with it being so cold and quiet while stopped. Dead, even.

Luciana determined that she felt no discomfort anywhere on her body, and quickly snatched her two bags from the ground before they were trampled. Looking inside, she could see a white card next to the apple she had begun to drop earlier. Apparently, Romeo must have stopped time unbeknownst to her just to save the apple. She smiled.

The card was blank, save for a single line of blank ink that depicted a phone number. She’d keep that card with her at all times. She had no reason not to trust Romeo, and actually believed that the number there would bring him to her before a second even passed for her.

“His eyes were so serious, though.” She thought to herself. “Just what exactly have those eyes seen? What have they been making him do…?”

In a nearby hotel room, Romeo sat against the wall with a window, clutching his chest through his undershirt. He had removed his suit jacket and button-up underneath, knowing that his body would be covered in sweat the moment he resumed time for himself.

“Romeo! Are you okay? Your heartbeat just skyrocketed. How long were you stopping time for?” An angry voice yelled at him through an ear piece, “I swear, any longer and your body wouldn’t have been able to catch up.”

He wiped the sweat from his brow, gasping hard. After several minutes, his breath slowed, and the sweating began to stop. “It was important. How is she?” he replied.

There was a tsk before a response, but the response came soon after. “She’s fine. It’s actually weird. She shows no effects she had been stopped in time with you. Are you sure she’s the blonde one with the grocery bags.

“I’m not an idiot. I know what my twin sister looks like,” he said slowly. “Weird. Maybe it has something to do with being a Chronis?” he thought, standing up and glancing through the blinds. Sure enough, he caught Luciana walking down the sidewalk.

“Whatever. Can we go now? I’d like to move on before we’re considered rogue. This is, after all, at your insistence.”

Romeo ignored the voice in his ear. He stared at her as she walked further and further from his vantage point. He longed to take her up on her dinner offer. “I bet we’d still be best friends if we were a normal family.”

He grabbed his suit jacket off the floor beside him. “First things first. We have to fake my sister’s death.”

[gigawords]

A Couple Of Undeads

The street was quiet, which was odd even at this time of night. Usually there’d be a few cars passing by or some dog barking in the distance but it was eerily quiet. Maybe that was why their footsteps were so loud as they entered the pool of light cast by the only working streetlight in sight.

“Hey, let’s take a break here.” Said a sweet, harmonic voice. A grunt of confirmation was the only response from her partner, and they both leaned against the brick wall that lined the sidewalk. “Now are you done sulking? Are you going to talk to me now?”

“I wasn’t sulking…” muttered her friend, though he didn’t look in her direction.

“Krail, I’m just saying you have to be a little bit more careful, okay? You were pretty messed up when I found you. Heck, your arm was chopped off! Like, like… I still don’t like seeing that!” Though she tried to remain calm, her voice raised a bit in frustration.

He shrugged and spoke without looking at her. “It’s fixed now, right? Doesn’t matter since we can’t die. And ‘sides, I’m a lot better at fighting now. It would have been fine if that stupid dwarf didn’t have a gun.”

She sighed, “You know we’re late for dinner because of your fighting. Angel is probably going to be cross with us. Why can’t you just run away next time?”

“Because I’m tired of running away. Beth, they keep finding me. And each time it’s more and more dangerous looking fellas. If I don’t learn how to fight how am I going to protect Angel? What if they go after her, too?” She could see him clench his working fist. “I can’t turn invisible or just float away like you. I’ve gotta fuckin’ fight!”

He immediately winced after he finished his sentence, and surely enough Beth thumped him hard on the head. “I told you to watch that mouth of yours! Honestly…” She sighed, then ran a hand through his hair, scruffing it softly. “They won’t go after her, Krail. They’ve only ever noticed our magical presence. As long as they think one of us is the necromancer then she’ll be okay.” She offered a warm smile, “After all, everyone that hears the word “necromancer” thinks big shady creepy guy.”

Though he tried to remain aloof, Bethenny noticed him leaning into her hand more. She grinned a little wider. He always did love it when she played with his hair. “Does it hurt?” she said in a more quiet, but gentle voice.

“Nu-uh. It’s still kinda tingly and I can’t move it... but I can feel it. Argh, I still can’t get used to all this magic shi-... stuff.” He massaged his limp arm with his free hand. “But I guess if I can’t die and my body can repair itself, it’s kinda awesome.”

Bethenny withdrew her hand and started rummaging through her purse at her hip. With a slight look of disappointment in his eyes, Krail turned his head and watched curiously. She drew a small bandaid, and carefully unwrapped it. “Sleeve up.” She said. He tilted his head a bit, but complied anyway, lifting the sleeve up to the shoulder of his injured arm. With a little pressure, she pressed it on his skin, though there was no obvious wound.

“This will speed up recovery!” She said proudly. For the first time since she found him earlier in the afternoon, he finally smiled. It was a small one, and honestly it probably was a pity smile, but that was a moot point.

Unfortunately, his smile didn’t last long, and his face turned serious as his gaze went up to the street light. She followed his gaze, and watched the warm light.

It was flickering just a little bit, and there were a few bugs flying around it. It wasn’t bright enough to disrupt their sight, though. The sky beyond was a pitch black with no stars or moon out tonight.

Looking at the sky always made Bethenny want to fly. The night sky was too intoxicating. Closing her eyes, she focused inwardly. She didn’t know how she did this, but it was just something that she did. She thought of the wide open sky above her, she thought of sailing through the air without a care in the world. The weight from her body seemed to dissipate, and within seconds she couldn’t feel her body. Instead, she felt a slight breeze flow through her as she slowly hovered away from the ground.

Opening her eyes, she waved both hands in front of her eyes. Confirming it, she couldn't see a single thing. She surely could not be seen by anyone, but Krail still had his eyes locked on hers. He and Angel seemed to be the only two people in the world that could see her when she did this, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

She floated upwards until the street light was waist-high, and she made the motion as if to sit on it. Though she could not feel the metal from the lamp nor the pressure one should have when seated on something, she hovered there as if she were casually sitting on top of a street light, swinging her legs back and forth.

“I’m still kinda jealous that you get to be a ghost and I’m just a zombie.” Krail whined from below. “How come I have to be the one that gets all sliced up while you get to fly around?”

Bethenny’s eyes searched the sky for any sign of the moon. She doubted a couple feet of difference would help her find it any better, but she looked nonetheless. “It’s not all fun and games, you know. I mean, only about half the people with magic can actually see me, and only the really powerful ones don’t notice anything strange about me. But to everyone else, I’m invisible all the time, not just while I’m in wisp form.” It did bother her more than she let on.

When Krail didn’t respond, she looked back down towards him. He was still looking upwards, but his face was troubled. He was thinking about something serious.

Before she got to ask, he opened his mouth to speak. “Bethenny, why would she choose us?”

She didn’t respond. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to respond, she just didn’t know the answer. It was a question she had wondered herself for a time, but she just let him continue talking.

“I mean… we were nothing special. Just two stupid emo 15-year-olds who were in love. We did a stupid thing. I mean, a double suicide to end our ‘miserable’ lives because we thought dying together was a better option than trying to work through our crumbling situations. Next thing we know, we wake up together in some house in some city we’ve never heard of. Then this little 7-year old girl with long blonde hair calls us her mommy and daddy and takes us in like we’re some kind of stray animals. But then it turns out that this little girl is an illegal necromancer with literally an impossible amount of mana and magic potential, and we’re her chosen familiars.”

She nodded along as he took a short breath. He scratched the back of his neck, deep in thought. This was the first time he’s been this serious in a long time, which both impressed and worried her.

“We experienced the Soul Circle. There were billions of souls to choose from. We were just two among all of those amazing people. And yet… she couldn’t have chosen at random. There’s no way she could have summoned both of us without knowing something... but why?”

Bethenny gave the only response she could. She smiled down at him, “Because she’s an Angel.”

He blinked, and for several seconds his face remained blank. Then he split into a grin. “That’s a pretty unscientific answer coming from you, ya know?” She only stuck her tongue out at him in response.

“But…” He started, voice more firm than she’s ever heard it before. “It’s not so bad. I mean, pretending to be the mom and dad of some cute kid like her in exchange of getting a second chance. I want to protect her from these thugs and cops looking for her. I want to protect you, I want to protect all of us. That’s why… that’s why I want to get stronger, Beth. That’s why I have to get stronger.”

Surprised by his sudden dedication, Bethenny spent a long minute studying his face. My, he’s awfully handsome when he tries to sound cool. She thought to herself amusingly. “Are you sure you’re just not trying to show off to look cool?”

He frowned as his face reddened a bit. “C’mon, I’m trying to be serious here, Beth!”

Smiling, Bethenny quickly glided back down to ground level, and before he could react, she gave him a small, gentle kiss on the cheek, “I know, Krail. But you really did make my heart skip a beat just then.” She giggled, before flying off down the road before waiting for his response.”

“H-hey! You can’t just… Beth? Beth, come on, that’s not fair!” He shouted as he started jogging after her.

[gigawords]

Guild Wars 2

“So... I was thinking about starting a guild”

“Why? Do you know how much work that takes? You're barely able to do two things at once... What makes you think you can run an entire guild?”

The two humans trudged onwards, on top of the dead grass and dirt roads that had been abused severely by past armies and war machines. They were, after all, in the territory of the Charr. Pillars of smoke decorated the horizon, scraps of metal lay all around, and the famous Black Citadel loomed behind them.

The male scratched the back of his head, “Just hear me out. I've been thinking about this ever since we visited the Eternal Battlegrounds. You saw how many of our army belonged to just one guild, and we were still pushed back. Imagine if we were larger then that. Imagine us able to turn the tides of war just by appearing. Our guild could inspire allies and intimidate enemies! A large guild like that would surely be famous for its actions!”

His friend sighed, “Is that all you want? Power? You're more shallow than I thought.”

“Yes, but not like that. That was a poor example, I suppose. I just want the power to make a difference. I want to change this war. Whether by force or by peace. A large guild would be respected enough to be heard.”

“You saw how those Charr looked at us as we walked through the citadel. You think that you can fix something like that with just numbers and force? Forget it.”

He sniffed. “You just wait. I'll make one anyway. Soon everyone will know the name of Magnesium, the leader of the greatest guild ever, Noveblast!”

“You let me know how that turns out. And that's an awful name for a guild, anyway. Now put that damn torch away. Its the middle of the day, O Great Guild Leader.”

Magnesium held the torch closer to her. “Not a chance. This torch can burn forever, you know that? Its a magic torch. You're just mad that your flames can't last for more than a few seconds, Beth.”

She sniffed, a bit offended. “Be quiet. You know I'm naturally attuned to water. Fire is for arrogant, reckless elementalists.”

“Which is why I'm confused as to why you're not one.”

Beth delivered a swift kick to his leg, causing him to stumble.

“Hey watch it! Gods, it was just a joke.” He sighed, and silence soon settled between them. They had been walking most of the day, searching for jobs to do for money. So far, they had no luck, save for low-paying job for finding tools and bits of metal for some collector.

“Hey, Beth... why are we still here, anyway? Don't you want to go back to Divinity's Reach?”

“Not really. Its so boring there. Besides you said that you wanted to explore other lands. Unless you wanted to go back to the Eternal Battlegrounds.”

He shivered. “No, no thanks. They're on a whole different level then us there... That raid was...”

Beth glanced away. The memory bothered her as well. They had assembled a small band and had attempted to take an enemy supply camp, only to find that a guild had been expecting an attack.

Magnesium stared into the flame of his torch. “Do you think that Ossem survived? I mean if we survived then that means Ossem has a chance, right?”

“I... I don't know.”

“By the way, Beth, how did you survive that fight, anyway? I never found out.” She looked away. Another span of silence followed. He let it pass and returned his sight forward. “Hey, I think that's it. Isn't that the junkyard the collector told us about?”

Beth looked as well. Sure enough, in the distance a shabby building appeared. “Yes, I believe that's it. Let's go talk to the owner.”

“Humans? Working in my shop? Gahahaha!” The large charr's heavy-sounding laugh was echoed by his employees'.

“It's more likely than you think! What's wrong with having a couple of humans make a few coins?” Magnesium angrily shouted back.

The owner's laugh instantly changed to a cold, harsh tone. “The problem is that you're humans. You're lucky I don't just kill you. What would make you think I'd want to anything to do with you two, anyway? Are you that naive as to think I'd hire you straight away?”

Beth pushed Magnesium out of the way. “Excuse us. We met a collector that told us you would help us. I see that he was mistaken. We'll be on our way.” She turned to leave.

“Beth! Are you serious?! We walked all the way here and you're just gonna tu-”

“Wait.” The owner's voice cut Magnesium short and halted Beth. “You said a collector? Did he have a pair of brass goggles and four nubby little horns?”

“Aye. Why?” Magnesium said, a bit confused. Beth turned around.

The enormous Charr stared at the two for a moment, then turned around. He pointed to the piles of trash outside. “Go into the yard. Clear out any pests we have, bring me any pieces of large metal you find, and watch out for slimes. Get to work before I change my mind.”

Magnesium and Beth looked at each other, and flashed a quick smile before heading for the door to the fenced-in yard.

One of the employees quickly confronted the owner. “Sir, is it really okay to hire them? They're humans!”

He nodded. “Its fine. If Brackle hired them, they're okay. Damn him. Calling in a favor like this for just some humans... What is he thinking?”

“S-Sir! The Flame Legion is here!”

He snapped to the Charr that had just rushed through the door. “Again? Are they threatening us for materials once more?”

“No... they're asking for... that.”

The owner's eyes widened in shock. “Men! To arms! They're not leaving here alive today. Make sure you prote-” A loud explosion nearby cut him off. “Tsk... they're not even waiting for an answer. To battle!”

“Magnesium! Are you okay?!” Beth rushed over to the sound of the explosion that had taken a large piece of the fence out with it. Magnesium lay not far from the blast, slowly getting up. “What in the mists did you do?!”

“Argh... Dammit... where did that explosion come from...” He got to his knees and shook his head. “By the Gods... I can still hear the ringing. Beth? Wait, wheres my torch?” He hurriedly glanced around for it, but his eyes locked on what lay past the fence. “Is that... an army? Did that old owner really send an army after us or something?!” A large wave of Charrs had begun to close in on the opening in the fence.

“I don't think they're here for us, but prepare yourself, regardless. I don't think they're going to listen.” Beth had pulled Magnesium to his feet before drawing her staff. Magnesium followed her example, and pulled his blade out of its sheath.

One of the Charr workers was shouting from across the yard. “You! Humans! This is the Flame Legion! If you know what's good for you, you'll run. These guys are here to kill.” He was armed to the teeth, even though he looked to be just an employee not too long ago.

Magnesium and Beth just looked at him. Magnesium brushed the hair out of his eyes, “What? You guys finally hired us. You trying to scare us off or something? Did you hire all these guys yourselves just to get us to leave? Fine then! We'll just fight for our jobs.”

“Don't joke around! You're gonna be killed if you stay!”

Beth smiled, “What he's trying to say is you all handle your side. We'll keep them from coming in here.”

“Fine, fine! Just don't let them in no matter what! There's something we're protecting in there.”

“You mockin' me?” Magnesium turned to face the wave while giving his sword a few swings. “I'm a guardian. Protecting is what I do best.”

The worker left to rejoin his side of the yard, and Beth joined Magnesium outside the fence perimeter. As she grasped the staff with both hands, moisture began to form along the shaft.

“Wait until I get in there before you start.” Magnesium said without turning. The Flame Legion was quickly approaching.

Suddenly, he whipped his sword up and began to swing in sword in every direction. The sword sent several slices through the air, which crashed into the oncoming enemies with devastating results. Then, as soon as he halted his ranged assault, he posed for a thrust, and in the blink of an eye, disappeared. A blinding light reappeared at the same time in the middle of the Flame Legion's ranks, and with it, Magnesium with his sword through the chest of a Flame Legion Charr. The legion halted as they realized what had happened, and began to turn on him.

But as they turned, several icy explosions erupted, sending chunks of sharp ice in every direction. Those that weren't frozen were impaled by the ice. The battle had begun.

Magnesium led the tip of the blade from one enemy to the next. Power was not his forte, and he compensated for his lack of strength with speed. His sword was a blur in the midst of the raiders. Occasionally there would be one that could match his movements, and he would quickly change targets or evade that particular enemy. He could afford to ignore these duelists.

He could afford to avoid them because he knew that the moment he changed his footing for another foe, a shattering boulder of ice would crash down into that area. Beth never missed her cue. Even as she launched her own attacks, she never once took her eyes off Magnesium. That idiot is always depending on me. If I were to take my eyes off of him for three second... With the wave of her hand, a wave of icy bullets shot out in an arc, catching two of the invaders in the throat.

Suddenly, she started. No wonder he's having so much trouble... He's not fighting with his torch! There's no way he'll be able to fight them all with only his sword! She quickly glanced backwards past the fence into the piles of junk in the lot. If I could get his torch to him, we'd be able to-

A scream erupted from behind him, and was quickly cut short. “Beth!” Magnesium spun to where she had stood, but was laying on the ground, a pool of blood quickly spreading from her head. A large Charr standing over her with a bloody mace. “BEEETH!” he shouted, and a nick from some weapon nicked his arm. Snapping back to his current battle, he dodged another strike and evaded a blade from yet another one. After the dodge, he turned to the Charr with the mace, and pointed his sword at him. In a blink of light, he was suddenly there, his blade penetrating the throat of the Charr.

He clawed at his throat, but soon lost his energy and sunk to the ground beside Beth. Even before Magnesium had a chance to withdraw his sword, something slammed into his back, sending him spiraling into the junk yard. As soon as his head stopped spinning, he looked up at the Charr that had knocked him flying. A large Charr with an equally large gun was slowly approaching him. The barrel of the weapon was aimed right for his head. And then Magnesium saw his face.

“Y-you...!” He gritted his teeth. His legs refused to work. His arms wouldn't respond. All he could do was just exchange glances between the barrel of the gun and the Charr that stood above him.

“You have the most uncanny luck... Why is it that you keep placing yourself in the most inconvenient places?”

“Bastard! Why would you decieve us?!” Magnesium glared at the grizzled Charr.

“I hope we meet again, Human.”

The Charr drew his gaze to the shop, and slowly walked towards the open door. But Magnesium's sight was soon pulled to where the opening was, and the remaining Flame Legion troops had begun to pour in.

Suddenly something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. A metal torch lay not far from where the Charr that had spoken to him stood.

My... my torch. Did that guy...?

It was then that Magnesium realized that his exhaustion left with the Charr's presence. He scrambled over to his torch. Gripping it tightly, he stood up, a new glint in his eye. Adrenaline filled his body. He shouted something at the thirteen remaining legionnaires, but wasn't quite sure what it was. Whatever it was, it caught their attention.

Beth's eyes flickered open. It took a moment for her sight to adjust to the light, but soon she was able to fully acknowledge her sights. And her pain. Her body convulsed as she gripped her head. She could feel warm blood on her fingertips, but luckily not a lot.

Her focus returned to Magnesium. Somehow he had found his torch, and he was waving it threateningly at the Charr that had attacked them. Her ears were still ringing, but she could see the Charr riling up, preparing to charge. She looked back at Magnesium. The torch had suddenly lighted itself. She then realized that the battle was already over.

“You're gonna die just like your friend, Human. Just give up now.” One of the advancing Charr taunted.

Without feeling emotion, Magnesium lowered his torch, the flame now burning bright. The intensity of the fire grew more and more, until it was a blinding light, and then he set the torch against his legs.

“Is... is he setting himself on fire?!”

“Does that damn Human even know what he's doing?”

“Easy kill for us, boys!”

Flames suddenly engulfed Magnesium's body. And then suddenly, the fire had turned a deep shade of blue. That was when Magnesium looked up, grinning.

The Charrs were caught off guard. “What the...”

He was caught off as Magnesium blew into the torch, sending our a massive plume of flames- catching several in the process.

“Someone get him!” One Charr yelled, as he spun to shoot his gun at the human on fire. But he wasn't there. Suddenly his back felt hot, and in moment he too was engulfed in the blue fire.

Magnesium spun back and forth, sending waves of flames through the air with each swing of his torch. Every swing caught another one on fire, and sent him running, screaming as they try to extinguish the flames. But they couldn't be extinguished.

Not only did each swing send a wave, but each step as well. He danced around each Charr, his body proving far too nimble for their bulky bodies to keep up with. When his foot touched the ground, he sent out more of the deadly flames in every direction. Only he was spared from the burning sensation.

In a short amount of time, only one stood remaining with him. The Charr had somehow lost his weapon in the battle, and he stood with his back against the wall. Magnesium approached him slowly. He showed as much fear as a Charr could muster. Charrs are known to never fear anything.

Slowly the flames began to move on his body. They started from his feet, snaking around his legs, his torso, his arm, and finally into his free hand. The dieing embers that had littered the bodies on the junkyard began to move towards him as well. Any flame in sight had magically moved across the junk yard, up his body, and into his hand, creating a blueish flame so bright that his hand could not be seen.

Magnesium rose his arm, preparing for a devastating strike. The Charr bit down hard and swallowed.

Suddenly, a cool sensation rushed over Magnesium. A small geyser erupted from the ground beneath him. The flames did not die out or flicker in the slightest, but he regained his senses. He lowered his hand and turned to where Beth lay, her hand outstretched in his direction.

“Magnesium! Stop! You don't have to overdo it!” She shouted, straining her voice.

He and the Charr stared at her. Finally, Magnesium shrugged, and let the flames on his hand die. The torch's fire went out as well. He started to turn around, but spun around and landed a quick blow to the Charr's head with the extinguished torch. The Charr dropped, only unconscious.

Magnesium went over to Beth and fell into a sitting position. “Damn, Beth. You scared me. I thought you were gone again.”

She managed to push herself up. “You think that anytime I get hit. You should know by now I'm tougher than that.”

It was long into the night before the two had gained enough strength to finally investigated the remains of the shop. They had managed to keep their side protected, with the exception of the one mysterious Charr with the large gun, but from the ransacked appearance of the shop, the junk yard crew had been defeated. The owner himself lay in a pool of blood not far from a broken safe.

“We didn't even get paid...” Magnesium muttered, earning him a swift slap on the back of his head from Beth.

“I wonder what was in that safe for the Flame Legion to go through such lengths to get?” Beth pondered.

“I dunno. But I sure as Dwayna know where to find out.” Magnesium exited the door to the road. “Come on, we're gonna go visit someone.”

[gigawords]

I would just like to take a moment to talk about landscapes like this. As a writer, I'm heavily influenced by things like nature and landscapes. I've always been a fan of three main 'scapes : mountains, cities, and fields. I could talk all day about how much I love just wide open fields like the one shown in this photo. This photo has by itself inspired several stories or ideas. Although I admit, the type of fields that I adore are wide, open, and contain lots of flowing grass in the wind. There's not too much you could do with a wide open area like the ones I dream about, I still believe they're of the most beautiful kind of landscapes. Some people though, would see that as more of a challenge. I would like to one day be able to take my favorite spots like this and base a whole novel or at least a large portion off of it. However, I'm not quite at that level yet, so I'll stick to just using areas like shown in this photo as an idea for some of the more important parts of my novels.

[gigawords]

So for this writing assignment, I decided to write something that was in the snow, since the bizarre weather left my city of Troy in a blanket of white fluff! I guess it was kind of my inspiration to choose to write this scene in the snow so... Apologies for the choppy and incomplete story..! Will update and fix this later hopefully!

The foil was quickly pulled back into a rest position, adding more stains to the blood-soaked snow as the body fell to the ground. The one that wielded the rapier adjusted relaxed, seeing no immediate foes in the area. He took out his kerchief, and carefully wiped the blade clean.

He heard heavy footsteps approaching behind him, accurately assuming who it was before the newcomer approached. That fool wears so much armor its a feat that he is able to move properly. “Elsworth!” angrily yelled the man. “We’re in the midst of a battle and you’re cleaning your damn poking stick again!”

Elsworth stared him dead in the eye for a long moment before turning his head to spit. “Keh… You’re absolutely livid that the “dirty goblin” you enlisted has more bloody kills than your entire ensemble, are you not?” he said, returning the kerchief to its pocket.

“Listen you green piece of trash,” growled the towering man, taking a threatening step forward towards the goblin. “My crew and I will leave you for dead in a heartbeat if you don’t treat your commanding officer with more respect.”

An anguished cry could be heard in the distance. Both man and goblin turned towards the noise, seeing a melee nearby. The heavily armored soldiers were extremely distinguishable from their group with random bits of armor put together. Not to mention, they looked to be nearly twice the size of the mercenary group.

Elsworth the goblin readied his blade. “Right then… Commander? You better get back to your squad before you don’t even have a ‘crew’.” He muttered, before stomping off towards the thick of the battle. The commander swore loudly before trudging on behind him.

[gigawords]

Here's just a small video project that I shot and created to help a friend. The project was to take a small poem and shoot a video along with it. I decided to post about it in my creativity blog because the video still shows a lot of I had to offer in terms of art. I'm no stranger to video editing, but I'm not the best either. The program I was using at the time, unfortunately, was really unreliable, and crashed a number of times during creation. However, you can still see some of the effort I put into it. Such as the flower in the foreground existing in the "dream"-like state of happiness, but then it suddenly flashes to burning as quickly as the characters in the shot flashed to reality. Though it was not my choice of poem (nor was I able to shoot all the clips myself), I still think I did a great job of determining a past-like shot to a realistic like shot.

[gigawords]

Merra and Joal POV Test

A test of the same scene using different perspectives! Enjoy!

“...Careful, Sisters. The town may be secluded, but they may have seen our wanted posters...” Rhey muttered quietly in a low tone, before checking right and left for anyone who seemed too close to hearing.

Merra nodded, although secretly disagreeing. This town was too far out for any nobility to care for it. The merchants and smithies looked much too well-furbished; who knows when the last tax-collector appeared here? Let alone an officer. Though, she thought, a small voice in her mind said, perhaps they may have bounty hunters? Or an independent police force? The scholarly side of her, accompanied with Rhey's caution, convinced her to prepare the the flow of mana.

Shivering as Merra reached for the transparent mists, she quite nearly released her hold. She could feel the crisp presence of the mana, as she always had before. But now fearing of what it may contain, it felt colder and colder every time she embraced the magical air. Nevertheless, she endured its chilling blanket, causing her to openly shiver.

Cirea and Rhey must have noticed, for by the time she stopped rubbing her arms, they had both been staring at her. Hastily, she let both arms relax, but she still held onto the mana. “Ah... nothing...” She said slowly. Cirea shrugged before turning, and Rhey's eyes lingered on her, filling with worry before he, too, turned. His eyes. Always worried, so worried. Perhaps he simply hasn't noticed the increasingly odd control with mana, perhaps it was merely in her imagination.

Merra followed the two into the crowded street. If they were lucky tonight, they could find a roof to stay under besides the sky itself. Although lately, their luck hasn't been too well.

“Oi! There's actually an inn here. Great Goddess am I ready for a hot me-” Cirea stopped short as the crowd began to part, revealing six men on the other side of the inn, approaching the trio slowly. Each armed with a wide variety of weapons. Bounty hunters, Merra figured, or perhaps mercenaries hired as guards? She saw Cirea reach for her sword hilt, but Rhey walked in front of her, holding a hand up to halt her. The crowd that was once there was gone, although a few remained, peeking behind shutters or doors.

“Greetings, good Brothers.” Rhey began slowly, removing the hood of his white priest cloak. “As you can see, my friends and I are quite weary from travel, but I assure you after a night's rest we will aid you in what way we can. So if you could please step aside...” He began to turn in direction of the entrance of the inn, but one of the men placed himself squarely in front of the door, emphasizing the dagger he now held in his hands by pretending to be peculiarly interested in the silver blade.

The one with his sword already drawn stepped forward, flourishing four weathered parchments with his free hand, “A fake priest, a foreigner, and a Blindwalker. Missing one, but I suppose three out of four isn't bad. Harnessing the mists is against the rule is it not, Blindwalker?” He had turned his attention to Merra. From the corner of her eye, Merra could see Cirea's hand discreetly drift towards her sword sheath.

She opened her mouth to protest, but as she began, the man cut her off again. “We have a Tracker. If you're not the wanted group from the Guilds, you will still be turned in for openly channeling mana.” The four other men began to draw their weapons; swords, axes, and knives all glinting alike in the sun..

In a flash, Cirea had her blade drawn, but before anyone could blink, a gurgling sound and a thud came from the direction of the inn. As both parties turned to look, a blue blur of motion darted from the inn, and crashed into the nearest assailant. The bounty hunter staggered back as he lost his balance, his free hand clutching his cheek. Where he was standing was a particularly tall man, fist outstretched, and before Merra even had time to whisper his name, Cirea and he had fallen onto the hunters, Rhey making a hasty retreat into the inn.

Merra nodded to herself as if to wake her from her observation. Turning her attention to the brawl, she gripped at the air as if to pull in more of the invisible mana. She could feel it coursing her veins, speeding throughout her body, circulating ever faster. As the cool feeling completely swept through her, her sight began to obtain a blue tint, until her vision contained only shades of blue and purple.

Despite how long the process seemed, Merra had barely taken a breath before the mana completely settled into her body, no matter how long it had actually seemed to her. Raising a palm towards the man who had been struck down, now bringing himself to stand, she felt the mana rush towards her now outstretched hand, warming up until it felt as if her entire arm was on fire. In her mind, she condensed the air with the aid of the strange mists, and she could almost feel the tingling sensation that began in the air in front of her palm.

Using her finger as a conductor, she pointed towards the man, now on his feet, and a sharp light erupted from her fingertip, creating a zigzag motion in the air until it found its mark in the man's chest, only lasting for a split second. The lightning she created nearly blinded her blue-hued vision, but she recovered even before she heard the thud of a body. The mana in her body felt less cold then it had a moment ago, but after pulling a bit more of the seemingly endless mists, the chilling sensation was back, ready for another strike.

However, by the time she looked to the other two, they had stood there, panting heavily, among five fallen bodies. She released the mana from her body, an action that felt none too good. All at once the ice inside her body diffused from outside her skin into the atmosphere, her body warming back to normal. Slowly her vision returned to normal, and then suddenly the fatigue from Casting appeared as it always did when one released mana. The mana may hold off fatigue for a good while, but as soon as a user releases the Manaflow, it comes back at full force.

“Hmm... They were overconfident... it's a good thing I caught 'em off guard, anyway. Even six rookies is much more then we can handle.” The tall man slowed his breath, calming himself down. The sweat on his brow almost seemed to disappear completely. Merra got another good look at Joal.

His tall demeanor was the most prominent feature about the man from a distance, standing atleast a head taller then Cirea and two above Merra herself. He always seemed to wear his light blue overcoat, along with a faded pink scarf and his favorite pair of sandals. When asked about it, he always replied that it was cold in his land. That still doesn't explain the sandals... Merra would always think afterwards. Due to the large scarf, his eyes were the only part of his face that were open, and that was only when his black hair was tied back in a ponytail.

The only thing more noticeable then his height was the right side of his jacket was not filled. The sleeve always fluttered around limply, nothing to support it. Merra felt a pang of sympathy everytime she saw it. How could such a skilled fighter such as himself end up losing his entire right arm? Torture, he would explain. Torture was intense for his “kind” in the Thousand Paths mountain range where he reigned.

Her eyes flickered to the open door to the inn, where the man with the flaunting knife had been blocking. The gurgling noise had come from him, she had guessed, when whoever opened the inn door had slid a knife along his throat. She noticed that his dagger was in Joal's hand.

“Joal... What did you...” Surely taking a person's knife from behind and slitting their own throat with it in one fluid motion before being detected would be impossible, but even with one arm, Joal somehow managed to make it seem like a child's game.

Joal turned towards her, tossing the dagger backwards as if a plaything. “He was in the way, and wasn't paying very much attention to the door.” He carelessly shrugged his one good shoulder before getting on his knees before one of the fallen men. Rolling him on his back, Joal searched his pockets before producing a small metal plate attached to a chain, a symbol and the words “Gen Y Hunters” etched across it.

Merra bent down next to him for a closer look. “Gen Y Hunters? A hunter guild? There should be no such thing. The Organization would ne-”

Rhey stepped hurriedly out of the inn, four travel packs underneath his arms, never once glancing at the bodies that lay strewn before him. “I have retrieved our bags from the rooms you reserved us, Brother, and bribed the good Innman, but we must leave now, before others pursue.”

Cirea stepped forward, slinging her pack on her shoulder with much more ease then Rhey. “Should we not hide the bodies, first?”

Merra shook her head. “This is the first time I've ever heard of a guild that was based solely on bounty hunting. Who knows how organized they are? If they're smart, then they have other agents nearby. We're going to have to keep moving.”

Cirea and Joal both looked crestfallen, and Rhey as emotionless as ever after a fight. The four began in a fast walking pace until they were out of sight of town, before taking off in large strides. 'Tis a shame... I was looking forward to a warm bed tonight... Merra thought, gazing at the now darkening sky as she raced. Suddenly, something in the sky caught her attention. In the distant horizon, a star was flickering, and in the blink of an eye, it had completely vanished. Certainly an ill omen. She kept running. _______________________________________________________

Joal sighed, placing down the last of the travel bags he had carried. Soon, Rhey, Merra, and Cirea would all be here, as long as they blend with the crowd. Joal always volunteered to scout or reserve inn rooms, since he stuck out in his light-blue thick coat and height. As long as Cirea kept her tanned skin color, and Merra didn't prepare any magical connections, they would blend in perfectly. Now it's time for my second job...

Hastily walking down the hallway, he stepped down the stairwell two stairs at a time. When he entered the tavern, he was relieved to see the Innman conversing on the far side of the room. Casually walking, very slowly, he tried to listen at every table he passed, for anything that caught his ear. You could never be too careful, even in a rural town like this.

“...Aye, the cabbages aren't selling as nice as they should be, and the weather is just as bad...”

“...They exist, I tell you! I saw one with my own eyes! A man as tall as this house, with seven fingers on each hand!”

“...Nobles. I just don't see what they're playing at. They think they can simply walk into Rhyze and completely...”

“...The new guild? Gen Y Hunters? They're pretty known around these parts, taking advantage of the lesser-populated towns...”

Joal spun around to the last table, slamming his hand down in between the three men talking, startling them bad enough for one of them to nearly spill his drinks. “What was that? A new guild?”

“Aye. You deaf, you blas-” The old, rather plump man who had nearly lost his drink stopped short when noticing Joal's height. With obvious reluctance, he opened his mouth twice before speaking again. “...Aye, that's right. Somehow, a new organization of guilds was created back in the Organization, guilds dedicated to only bounty hunting. Gen Y Hunters was the first to be established, so my brother tells me, and made their home in these far-off towns, 'probly to catch runaways.” Joal's hard stare bored into him. “I-I'm telling the truth, mark me. Er, well what I mean to say is, I only know that Gen Y Hunter agents are staying in our town for awhile, that's the only fact I know...”

When Joal finally released his stare, he noticed the entire tavern had stopped talking to stare at the door. There were sharp words coming from beyond the door. Damn... That can't be them... Joal ground his teeth, striding in a fast walk towards the door, fist clenched.

He pulled the door open with such force, that the man who stood leaning against it lost his balance and started to fall backwards. As if the time had suddenly slowed, Joal's mind and reflexes both worked incredibly fast, even for his kind. Recognizing a long knife in the man's outstretched arm, he quickly dashed underneath the falling man, plucking his knife out from his hand as easy as if a child was holding it, and completed the motion by striking out with the knife across his throat, before spinning back around to face the street. As time seemed to speed back to normal, he heard a thud behind him, accompanied by a gurgling sound from his throat.

Everyone turned to face him, but it was too late. After he verified that the three people opposite of the brutish guild members were his friends, he was among the Gen Y before they had a chance to react. In a blur, he sped towards the one closest to Cirea, and without even using the knife, delivered a vicious punch that found itself completely knocking the Gen Y Hunter down. Before he had fallen to the ground, Joal was already spinning around, now flourishing the knife, ready for his next opponent. He hoped that Merra would take the chance to finish the one he had just punched, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Cirea charge using one of her elegant stances.

The man who saw him had a fat blade built onto his sword hilt, Joal noticed as the blade was raised into the air, ready for a strike. With a flick of his wrist, he spun the knife in his hand around so that he held it blade-down, and blocked the sword mid-air. Sparks flew. He kept the knife underhand, blocking blow after blow. It was suicidal to keep blocking with a knife, his luck nor his knife wouldn't last long. Sidestepping the next swipe, he turned his dodge into a counter, spinning on the heel of his foot, and then launched himself towards the man's exposed side. The knife made a neat mark in the man's chest.

Seizing his now blood-covered knife, he flung it towards one of the men attacking Cirea, who was just barely holding the two off. Burying itself in his fat neck, his ally gave one startled look before Cirea took the opportunity to land two true hits before he, too, fell to the ground.

Stooping to retrieve the thrown knife, he rose to observe the scene. Six bodies lay there. Six more to add to my crimes. Joal sighed. His heart was still pounding, he realized. Summoning a deep breath of air, though rancid now with the smell of blood, he held his breath. Slowly, his heartbeat relaxed, his blood flow slowed, and his mind was cleared.

He looked at Merra and Cirea, both panting, sweat down their faces. Joal reached for his own forehead. He was sweating. How? Why? It wasn't hot at all, it was always cold. Sweating... I can't believe this. Why did this battle cause me to be so intense? Back at the Thousand Paths, sweating would label you as weak, unable to finish a fight quickly as they were trained to.

Shaking his head, he brought his mind back to reality. Six guild members, slain by he, a swordsman, and a Manasiezer. ““Hmm... They were overconfident... it's a good thing I caught 'em off guard, anyway. Even six rookies is much more then we can handle.” He wasn't sure how much of that was true. If he hadn't caught them by surprise, he didn't know if he could have taken the first two out so easily. Great Noetta, what would he do if the man guarding the door wasn't even a guild member at all? What if that were his friend? He shook his head, and took another deep breath calm down. Training. He thought, I need more training done. I'm starting to lose my skills...

“Joal... What did you...” He turned to the owner's voice; Merra. What pretty eyes she had, always full of anxiety and curiosity. If it were any other occasion, he would laugh at the confused expression she wore now. Then her eyes flicked towards the knife.

Suddenly feeling an enormous loathing sensation towards the knife, he tossed it over his shoulder as casual as possible. “He was in the way, and wasn't paying very much attention to the door.” Carefree. Need to stay carefree. If the others see you calm, they'll follow suit.

His eyes darted to the man that lay face-down in the dirt in front of him. Kneeling down, Joal rolled him over. Oh Sacred Lake... he searched the man's pockets, if he really is from a guild, he'll have some sort of seal of some sort. And if Gen Y really does exist, that would mean there are other bounty hunter guilds out there, and that would mean... His hand retrieved a small metal plate attached to a chain. A necklace, perhaps, but on the plate read “Gen Y Hunters” across an odd symbol. The guild seal. He bit back a curse. Calm. Stay calm. Fiery Richette! Why is it so hard to stay calm today?! This town...

His thoughts were cut off as Merra said something, but he was too occupied staring down the now-empty street. On the other side of the town square, he could feel it. Murderous intentions. Many negative emotions flowing from behind corners, behind shutters, unseen places. They were watching.

Rhey would know about it. He would have felt the negative emotions long before our arrival. But why would he want to enter a town filled with so many hating people? I don't understand him... but if we don't get out of here now...”

As if his thoughts were heard, Rhey stumbled out of the inn carrying all four of their bags. This town was not normal, Joal decided. It was teeming with hatred, and as they left the town behind, he thought that the town had darkened long before the night actually arrived.