The Blue Spirit Chapter 1

The Separating of the Spirits

Some stories need an explanation. The mysteries surrounding this one need an explanation. Almost since the Stone Age strange abilities have been shown by people. Telepathy, telekinesis, levitation etc. In this instance the power is controlling the elements. Each man with the abilities had something in common they all shared the same scar and they had all lost their memories. This story starts with the death of the main characters when the new era starts for the spirits

Red
Lying on the scorched plains of Talmar the last man of the rebelling army was surrounded by a bed of roses an arrow protruding from his chest. Blood had stained his clothes and the scenery burned in a never ending inferno. The weeping angels towered above him from the spire of the cathedral. Pain contorted his face and blood blinded his vision. He struggled with the arrow in his chest, but it was stuck fast in the ground behind him. Blinking up at the temple he muttered a prayer and gazed at the angels. They moved their hands from their faces and pointed into the distance where a tall figure strode towards him. The man blacked out the sun and appeared as a black silhouette. For a moment his memories flashed through his mind as if they were being stolen from him. The figure raised his sword. The last words of his father rang through his head and he closed his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter what you do or why you do it; as long as it’s for a good reason. Never forget that my son and never give up because there is always hope.”

The sword flashed through the air. Closing his eyes he prepared for the blow. White hot pain flashed across his face as the sword cut into his eyes. Falling back he let the darkness consume him and he was no more.

The Twins
Laughter filled the clearing as the two young twins danced weaving in and out of the stone circle their silver hair billowing in the wind. They knew the woods were dangerous in these troubled times but they were too young to understand.
Suddenly one of them stopped dancing noticing an engraving on the stone, two angels pointing into the under bush. The child tilted his head and saw a pair of blazing eyes staring at him. His twin joined him, staring into the eyes. The eyes bore into their souls sifting through their every memory and stealing them away.
Fire burst across the branches of trees in a halo surrounding them. They shrieked and turned to flee but there was no escape. The man burst out of the bushes averting his gaze he raised a sword and clenched his fists until his knuckles were white. The flames grew in might and scorched their skin. The twins cried huddling, together. They heard a whip of a blade as it cut through the flames and tore through their burnt features. The fire swallowed them. They disappeared.

Emily Rose
Sea sickness engulfed the captain of the Blue Rose as the storm raged outside the cabin walls. The killer waves threw the boat in the air and lightning struck all around.
Ascending to the poop deck, the captain struggled her way to the prow. She looked across at the angel figure head and noticed that its hand had moved to point out across the ocean. She followed the angel’s  pointing finger and spotted a man sprawled across a raft. The small craft was being battered by the waves. Quickly she yelled out orders and after a few frantic minutes the shipwrecked man was pulled aboard.
    He spluttered and coughed until all the salt water had left his lungs. Then flinging back his long dark hair he laughed maniacally. He stood up and raised a sword to the captains throat. She jumped back and the sailors grabbed the man. Raising her own sword to the stranger’s exposed neck, she gasped,
    “Name yourself!”
He cackled and raised his head. She stared at the black sash masking his features.
    “I don’t think that’s important to you captain” he said in an uninterested tone.
    “I don’t think you’re in a position to say that stranger,” she laughed and slid the sword along his exposed neck. “Now state your name!” A bead of blood trickled down the sword.
    “You don’t need to know my name.” he replied, his chin jutting out and eyes blazing, the sword melted and the sailors holding him turned pale, before dropping to the swaying deck. Staggering away the captain looked at the man, his eyes locked into hers, burning through her soul, burning away her memories, trapping them away in the farthest corner of her mind. He raised a hand and struck the deck setting the ship a blaze. A violent wave lashed the ship and she fell overboard into the black sea. She frantically began to swim away when she felt water bind around her chest. Struggling to the surface bubbles swirling around her she gasped for air. Breaking the surface she swallowed in deep breaths. The water still held her tight. Suddenly she was being lifted by a spout of water, carried back to the Blue Rose now burning in ruby flames. She was trapped in the water, facing the stranger, who raised his sword and gave a monstrous grin. She closed her eyes and heard a single metal note ring through the air as his blade lashed across her head. She dropped, spinning back into the water. Dead.

Troy
Birds sang and the wind whistled through the trees in the deep forests of Enwarlda; the deepest wildest forests of the world. The animals walked freely away from the eyes of hunters and a cool scent blew from the new flowers of spring. The soft sound of a river reached the ears of the lone monk as he entered the clearing. Inhaling the deep aroma of the forest, staring up at the top of the cliffs of Carna he could just spot the temple between the last clouds drowning in a rainbow sunset.
Strolling through the forest he finally reached the stone table and the obelisk. A lake stretched out in front reflecting the sunset and waves rippled across the cool surface. He knelt down and began to meditate. Visions flickered through his mind obscuring the dark and miserable memories of his past. Angels danced in his mind’s eye, golden rays bathing their features. Their cold laughter rang in his ears. The vision flickered, icy, sapphire blue eyes stared through trees. A stranger wearing a mask holding a sword emerged from the undergrowth. Then finally, his master holding a blade to the neck of his pupil, fire burning in his eyes.
Opening  his eyes the visions flowed away and a headache crushed his skull. He shook his head and looked up to the heavens. A lone cloud floated across the sky. It resembled an angel. The angel’s arm moved and pointed behind him.
    “Only an idiot would ignore a sign like that!” he thought to himself. Tentatively he looked into the bushes. Two sapphire eyes stared at him. The eyes from his vision! A cold fire seemed to burn in them. Leaves flew through the air. A figure sprang out of the bushes, a sword in his hand. Dodging in the nick of time he bent low to the ground and unsheathed his twin swords. The figure crouched low the light reflecting off his blade, his blue eyes freezing the monk’s soul. Quickly the monk blocked the attack of his mind and sprang forward. The stranger pushed him back using a gust of wind.
    “What sort of magic is this?” he wondered. Running forward, he threw wild blows with his swords. Each was blocked by his opponent. The grass was blown back by the force of their blows. Parrying every slice from the monk, pushing him back against the tree, the monk feared he’d be over thrown by his opponent. He struck out. The flat of his blade hit the stranger’s wrist, breaking it. The man cried out and dropped his left blade.  Driving his blade through the man’s weakened defences he almost prevailed. Making a lucky dodge the blow missed his chest by mere inches, but he lost his balance and fell back. Slashing forward the monk went to strike his final blow. When suddenly a blast of wind sent him reeling back through the air. He hit the hard bark of an oak and slid down the tree lying there dazed. The stranger disappeared into the distance with unnatural speed. Scowling the monk turned and continued his trek through the forest.
    An arrow whistled through the air and he caught it between his fingers. A flicker of anger contorted his face and he snapped the arrow between his index and middle finger. Running forward the monk dodged the cloud of arrows, hitting them out of the air. A figure stood in the middle of a field of wild grass snatching arrows from his quiver and releasing the arrow’s from the bow with inhuman speed. A hooded cloak hid his face. A pair of blazing eyes glared at him from the hood. Diving forward the monk slashed wildly, the figure parrying with the end of his bow.  A particularly strong shot slashed through the air snapping the bow in two. Splinters flew and the hood fell back and revealing the mans face. It was hard and straight as if carved from stone. A sash bound across across the top of his head with two slits for his eyes, hid his features. His lips curved in a scowl as he ripped off his cloak and threw it into the air. Flying into the air with a burst of wind he soared back and drew two swords, his hair black as storm clouds, blowing in the wind. The two men’s swords flashed, reflecting the sinking sun. Dodging each other’s blows and performing complex combinations, their robes were ripped to ribbons. The monk’s long blonde hair whipped about his head and his slightly blood stained robes flapped in the wind. His opponent not tiring from the constant battle of wills. The two men were so evenly matched that the fight lasted for over an hour.
    Suddenly the stranger,  an assassin he assumed, flipped backwards and sent jets of fire at the monk’s head. Blocking the shots with his blades he advanced forwards and hit one of the stranger’s palms. He dropped his sword. Then the monk, raising his sword to block any shots, kicked his opponents sword, which whipped through the air and embedded in a nearby tree. The stranger began to deflect blows lightning fast with his other sword and kicked away blows that the monk struggled to keep up. Suddenly with a burst of speed the assassin pushed the monk backwards through the woods till they returned to the stone table. The monk let free a wild shot breaking through his opponents defences and forcing one of the blades into the soft bark of a weeping willow. Now they were so close to the waters edge of the Enwarlda lake the monk could see their reflection on the inky surface. Then creating a scissor like motion, he gripped his opponents remaining sword between his and threw it into the distance. Kicking his opponent down, the monk stood tall. His hair was matted and blood dripped down his head. The assassin tried to probe the mind of the monk and invade his memories but the monk blocked him again. Levelling his sword at his opponent’s neck, the monk glowered down.
    “Who are you and why are you trying to kill me?” he said in a low breathless voice.
      “My name is Red X,” he announced with a defiant but defeated expression on his face. “I was ordered by black academy to kill you” A ripple of confusion distorted the monk’s face and in that brief second the assassin took a gasp of breath and blew with such might that the monk was blown back across the field. The assassin dashed towards one of his swords when an arrow struck his sleeve and pinned his arm to the tree. Realising he couldn’t reach his sword in time, grim realisation swept across his face. The monk darted forward, raising his blade in the air ready to strike. Then the assassin grabbed a dagger from the back of his belt and hurled it forward. It struck. Pain exploded across the monk’s face and the blood drained from his features. The knife had struck him in the chest. He keeled over and collapsed onto his knees. Walking forward the assassin ripped one of his blades from the ground and towered above him. A smug expression crossed his lips. He took the monks head in his palm, rocked it back and struck him across his face with the blade. The cold steel burned his skin. Blood flowed down his face and bled into the cracks in the stone table. Lightning seemed to strike in his mind. He died.