This is a work that i wrote to see if I could become an Ok author. Reviews appreciated |
When the sky is streaked with smoke, And the world is ripped asunder, Let the Light and the Dark take mortal forms, And decide the fate of all....... The night was young and crisp, but yet there was no moon. The man took no notice of this as he walked towards the place where the meeting would happen. He was around 6' 4" tall and had a face that look like it had seen one too many horrible things. His body was built like a knight's, and yet he was as fast and nimble as a thief. He could see everything that moved ahead of him, and hear everything behind him. He continued to repeat the prophecy as he walked. He stopped and took a picture out of the long trenchcoat he wore. Even if he couldn't see in the dark, he knew what was on that photo by memory. It was a small boy, around the age of five, grinning from ear to ear, sitting beside a rock the colour of blood. The childs left eye was covered in shadow because of the bandana that he continually wore. The rock was a different matter. The rock itself was as big as the child, with black streaks running across in all kinds of directions across it. The man chuckled lightly, and tucked away the photo. Then he began to walk again. He came upon a large, rectangular clearing around the size of a football field, in which was there was no growth of anything. Just bare soil. The man gave a dry sigh and walked out to the dead middle of the field. He sat down and closed his eyes. He almost fell into a sleep, listening to the crickets chirping and the owls hooting in the distance. The man knew he was well over the age for doing these kind of things, but he just had to do this. A sudden snap of a twig gave away the approach of another lifeform. A figure walked out of the treeline. The figure wore a cloak, made of the material known as volt-shift, which made them seem to blend in with the night. They were almost twice as tall as the man, but with a skinnier shoulder line and a figure that looked like it was put into a stretching rack and pulled to its snapping point. This figure carried a monstrous axe, slightly resembling that of the Lochaber family, but with one distinct difference. It had a large spike jutting out of the bottom part of the arching blade. And although it was more than a little awkward to fight with, this made the weapon all the more deadly. "You're early." Grunted the man in a voice that sounded like it hadn't spoken in years,as he got up and looked at the newcomer. A raging wail filled the man's head as an answer was returned. " I...Could...Say...The...Same...For....You..." the figure's voice whispered over the noise that the man was hearing. The voice sounded like gears that had not been oiled in millenia. The figure raised it's arm and a thin beam of mahogany light shot through the air. It then formed a ball of light just above the field, giving the entire place an eerie purple glow. The man smiled. "How fitting, that you should use that here. You have improved if you have enough concentration to focus on something else and still hold that in the air." He began to undo the buttons on his trenchcoat. "Ahhhh, well. That colour suits me anyway." The figure only nodded. They swung their body sideways and pointed the axe's blade right at the man. The man reached inside his trenchcoat and removed two double-edged dirks from their sheaths. "Lets get this over with." the man sighed. It was the sudden twitch in the figures hand that gave away their first move. In a blur, the figure appeared a few feet infront of the man, with the axe already in motion. The blade's long spike had almost reached the man's face, when the flat of a dirk intercepted it. The man smiled and thrust with his other dirk. The axe flashed, and the dirk was parried. With a horizontal swing, the figure's axe came again, and was again blocked. This fight continued for hours. If there was any other person in the forest at this time, all sound would be drowned out for miles by the clangs, crashes and dings of blade striking blade, and if they were looking for the source, the showers of sparks would allow them to pinpoint exactly where this was coming from. Both combatants were upon such an equal level, that they both tired at the same rate. as this was happening, they both couldn't help but get minor and major wounds. A large gash across the arm, a deep thrust in the leg, and quite a few minor cuts and slices ran across both combatants. Finally, both persons seperated far enough apart that they could catch some air. The figure's shoulders were heaving from having to move the large axe they carried at such a fast speed, and moving the same way. The man's were going even harder due to the amount of effort given on trying to block all the heavy strikes and from the massive amount of wounds he had recieved. This is it. One last time The man thought. He knew he had only enough strength to go at the figure one more time before he completely passed out. He brought his hand down to the pocket where the picture of the boy and the rock were. Then he crouched low and began to charge. The figure looked up to see the man's begin his assault, and once more threw his arm up, this time aiming right at the man. The beam of light lanced right through the man's body, and it was thrown backwards from the impact. The figure then got back on its feet, threw it's axe over it's shoulder, and began to shuffle over to the man's prone form. As the figure walked up to the man, he stirred. He flipped over so he could see the figure and spat at him. "Crap. I should have figured that you would have some kind of cheap-shot move like that in case you were losing.Heh..." He groaned and started coughing.When he spoke again, his voice wheezed, "Well, it's over. But let me tell you. No matter how hard you try to control them, they wont ever fight for you. They will live on no matter how hard you try, until you and your people are destroyed." The figure raised it's axe over its head and positioned it over the neck of the man. The man closed his eyes, and moved his head slightly to allow more room for the axe. As the axe came down, a single tear came rolling down the man's cheek. |