Night Wind, pt. 1

A cloaked figure paused in a desert. His hand slowly worked its way to the back of his hood, allowing the sleeve to fall briefly, revealing a coarse hand, stained with dry blood.  His hand paused briefly on the hilt of his sword, which he kept mounted on his back, before finally moving to his hood.  He pulled it back to reveal a face unworthy of such harsh hands.  He appeared no older than 20.  His eyes betrayed his soft looks, which were brought out by his dark hair.  They were as cold as the emeralds they resembled, unforgiving and empty.

Slowly still he reached down and grabbed his canteen, he opened it and put it to his lips and shook the last few drops out into his mouth.  He didn't bother replacing the lid; instead he dropped it and the canteen in the sand and continued walking.  In truth his body had given out long ago, it was his will that carried him now.  He just hoped it could carry him far enough.  Darkness fell over the desert, but the man didn't stop to make camp.  Instead he paused for a moment and held his hand out in front of him, and said a word in a language the world had long since forgotten.  The sand started to swirl around his feet.  And he continued to walk.

It wasn't long before the first of the desert predators were attracted to the heat he was radiating.  But they were small, dumb animals, and most wouldn't dare to venture close, and those that did were easily kicked away, and eventually they stopped appearing all together.  The man finally stopped, seeming to take interest in a small sand hill, a commonality in the desert, but for some reason it gave him pause.

"Find your dinner somewhere else." He said aloud, seemingly to no one, until the hill of sand started to grow, as if rising up out the desert itself.  Then the sand poured away, revealing the creature beneath.  It resembled a sand colored wolf, except it was larger than a grown man. The desert wolf's yellow eyes locked with the man's green ones for a split second before the creature lunged at him.  The man dodged the attack with such speed that human eyes would have lost track of him.  The beast's eyes did not, and it raised its paw, but once again the man was faster.  A slash mark appeared on the beast extending down its neck and across its chest, and the man appeared behind him, sword drawn and dripping with fresh blood.  He re-sheathed his sword as the beast fell to the ground, then continued walking.

He had reached the end of the desert and the town Inculta by first dawn the next day.  He found himself at one of the town's Inns.  He went to the bar and ordered a drink and a steak.  He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small bag of coins to pay for his meal.

"Can you tell me something?" he asked the waitress on the other side of the corner, she nodded as she absently wiped off a plate and put it on its shelf.  "Would there be any place in town where I could have this cleaned?" he reached behind him and unhooked his sword, and held it out in front of him.  The waitress began to reach out, as if hypnotized by the elaborate hilt and sheathe.  Her fingers had barely grazed when a strong hand gripped his wrist, looking down it he noticed it was attached to a strong arm, and then a large man.

"I recognize that sword." He said, not letting go.

"Yes?" asked the man still holding his sword.  He looked up and noticed that the waitress head retreated to some back room.

"Its name is "Whisper".  That would make you. . ."

"Darius, Demon of the Wind.  And if you like that hand you had best move it."  The man let go, and took a step back reaching behind him.  Darius calmly replaced the sword on his back. The man pulled a large shotgun off his back and leveled it on Darius' head.

"They say you're a monster, and there's a reward to whoever can bring you down." , Said the man.

"Is this really necessary?" asked Darius, he reached for his sword, then thinking better of it lowered his hand.  There was no telling what reaction the desert wolf's blood would have on is blade.

"Yes, everyone here has heard the stories; they say Death is your shadow, and that you leave cities in rubble."

"May I at least know your name?"  Asked Darius.

"Why?"

"It is a matter of respect between opponents."

"It's Tyler, now draw your sword."

"I'd rather not." Said Darius.

"Suite yourself!" yelled Tyler as he fired his weapon.  Darius dodged and moved inside Tyler's extend arm, and got close enough to smell his breath.  Tyler caught a glimpse of Darius' eyes, and realized he had been beaten...  Darius punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of Tyler. Then backhanded him hard enough to send him across the room and knock him unconscious.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few gold coins, and left them on the counter.

"For the damages."  He said leaving.

"Wait!" called the waitress.  Darius stopped and turned.  "You can have a room here tonight. . .  If you have no where else to go."  Darius nodded, and walked back into the Inn.

Darius had been shown his room in the Inn, and had begun to settle in for the night.  He had removed his cloak revealing his armor, a mix of chain of mail and hardened leather that had been badly worn.  He unfastened it and let it fall heavily to the floor.  Then he heard a knock on his door, his sword was across the room but he didn't even glance at it, the knock was soft and timid, not someone who wanted to fight.  But when he opened the door he was surprised to see the waitress.

"Can . . . Can I . . . get you anything?" she asked.

"Thank you no, nothing." He answered and went to turn away, but she grabbed his arm.

"You're the first visitor we've had here in a long time." She told him.

"Is that so?" he asked only half paying attention, he sat down and drew out his sword and began the meticulous process of cleaning the blade.  "Why's that?  This city used to be a center for travel and trade, anyone crossing the desert would have to come through Inculta." He said.  He inspected where the blade met the hilt, to make sure he had cleaned any trace of the desert wolf from every crevice and seem on his blade.

"Well yes, it was, but that was a long time ago." Said the girl, clearly taken aback by the fact that he was all but ignoring her, but there was also puzzlement in her voice.  "My grandfather used to tell me stories when I was little about how this city used to be, about the caravans that used to come through here."  The puzzlement left her voice as she basked in her memories, but then she looked up, puzzlement changing into outright confusion.  "But that was over one-hundred years ago, there's no way you could have seen it."  Darius smiled sadly at the girl, but offered no reply.  The girl looked up waiting for an explanation, but he offered none.  "What's your name?" he asked suddenly looking right at her.

"Wh-Whitney." She stammered over her own name seeing his eyes for the first time.

"Whitney, I wonder if you could help me with something."  His voice was smooth and seductive, matching his good looks, and for a second his eye's gleamed with the youth and innocence that had long since been lost.

"I'll do anything you ask." She said almost in a trance.

Maybe that was a little much. He thought as she stood up and walked over to him.  "I was wondering if you've heard of a man called Aeric, he was supposed to have passed this way."

"Aeric?  You mean the Magus of Blades?" she asked snapping out of her trance.

"The same."

"He did come this way but that was some time ago, and I only saw him briefly." She said.  "He was hooded, but the way he carried himself, it was like he was absolutely confident, and those chains he wears around his waist… "

"The Terra Blades" He said thinking. What the girl had mistaken for chains were actually a series of blades that acted independently of one another controlled by an unseen magic. "A fierce weapon, its power rivals my own Whisper's.  Did he stay anywhere in town or talk to anyone in particular?" 

"He stayed here." She said nervously.  Darius stood up, and looked at her.

"But you said you barely saw him, how could that be possible?  If he stayed at your inn?" he asked.  Whitney looked at the floor clearly ashamed.

"Because I wasn't running the inn then." She answered; her voice was so low he could barely hear her.

"Who was?" he asked.

"My sister, Jessica." She answered.

"Where is she?  Can I speak with her?"

"She left with him."  She said as a tear appeared in the corner of her right eye.  Darius walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, half hugging her.

"Did she say where they were headed?"  He asked and Whitney nodded, she opened her mouth to speak but instead choked back a sob.  She took a minute to catch her breath and then tried again.

"She said they were going east, towards the mountains." She answered and pointed east to illustrate the point.  "She said that they were in love, but it's not like her to just leave and abandon me here! It's like she was bewitched!"  She was crying openly now.  "I don't know what to do! I'm so lost with out her…"

"Don't worry." Said Darius.  "I'll find her." He chose his words carefully, specifically not saying he would bring her sister back, he wasn't sure he could.  But she looked up at him hopefully.

              "You would do that?" she asked.  "Oh thank you!" she exclaimed before he could answer, then she threw her arms around him and kissed him.  And just as quickly she withdrew, before he had time to express surprise.  "I'm sorry." She said. "I'm sure you need your rest…" she left the room in a hurry as if she was embarrassed, but Darius couldn't help but to notice the giddiness her step as she left.  When he was sure she was gone he sat down on the bed and sighed. 

She's fast. Was his first thought. And with good reason, he would have had time to dodge the kiss if he had wanted, but not much. And he started wonder about the older sister and why Aeric would have taken her with him.  Darius very much doubted that a Magus such as he would have needed a young inn keeper on his journey.  He also wondered if he would have to fight Aeric to achieve his goals, and if so he wasn't looking foreword to the battle.  These thoughts and others raced through his head as sleep found him, and then just before it took hold of him his thoughts turned to Whitney and his first kiss in a very long time, and for the first time in longer than that he felt a smile tug on the corners of his mouth, and that was the last thing he remembered before going sleep took the last vestige of his consciousness.

He awoke the next day to find that the sun had just begun to peak over the horizon.  He pulled on his boots and cloak and strapped on his sword.  He left two gold pieces on the desk in the room, to pay for the room and the information.  He left the in quietly, and had made just outside when someone grabbed his arm.  He spun around expecting to see someone like the man from the day before, but was surprised to see Whitney, only he hardly recognized her.  Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back into a short pony tail, revealing her golden eyes and a splash of freckles across her nose.  She was wearing leathers and a traveling cloak too.  He sighed knowing what was coming next.

"I'm coming with you." She declared.

"No your not." He told her.

"You can't stop me." She said.

"Yes I can." He said glancing behind him to his sword, not that he actually planned on drawing it on her.

"I can fight." She said untying her cloak she let it fall behind her next to a small back pack undoubtedly filled with provisions for traveling.  With the cloak gone Darius saw that she had a small scimitar strapped to her back and two small revolvers hung at her hips.  Darius took a step back, knowing he was going to have to show her the hard way, but he was curious about her skill as well. He drew his sword and in the blink of an eye was right in front of her with his sword pressed against her neck.

"See? You'd only be in the way." He said it even though they were still at a stale mate.  Her hands were on the handles of her guns, and even though they were still in their holsters they were pointed right at his knee caps.  She didn't say anything, but he could see her smiling.  He stepped back from her and tried to get into a defensive stance but hardly had the time before she was above him bringing down the scimitar.

I don't have time to make a clean dodge.  He thought, he blocked with Whisper, but the force of the blow pushed him back several feet.  She's strong too.  He tried to counter attack, holding back… some.  He flew at her with his sword in front of him ready to slash her across the chest.  With her free hand Whitney drew one her pistols and fired a shot at him to slow his attack, a sound concept, but it wouldn't work on him.  Darius easily blocked the shot with Whisper, and moved in forcing her to block, their swords locked and he continued pushing forcing her back this time.  Two small dirt clouds appear as her leather moccasins were pushed through the soft dirt.  She smiled again, clearly pleased with the fact that she had blocked his attack.  Tired with this ridiculous display, Darius decided to finish things with one final attack.  In a split second he disappeared from in front her, Whitney was so surprised she would have fell foreword if she had the time.  Darius reappeared behind her sheathing his sword.  Whitney had a shocked look on her face and reached up to touch her cheek, just as a red line appeared across her soft features.

"Along this journey I will probably have to fight people who are strong as me, maybe stronger, I can't fight them and protect you too."  When he looked back at her she was on her knees.  After he heard what he thought was a sob, he turned away from her assuming the argument was over.

"You bastard." She whispered. "You have no idea what she means to me." She said standing up; the dirt seemed to swirl around her feet.  "She raised me, gave me everything." There was a definite circle swirling around her feet now.  "And now she needs me and you're saying that I can't come.  That there's nothing I can do?"  The dirt around her feet was moving fiercely like a small tornado.  "That's not acceptable!" she raised her sword to slash at him, even though he was clearly out of range.  But when she pulled her blade through the air a blue energy took the shape of her blade and it roared at him.

Impossible!  He thought. She focused her inner strength and will to fight into a physical attack.  It was a technique that only the world's best fighters were supposed to be able to do.  The blow hit Darius head on, pushing him several feet, his body digging a small trench in the ground as he was pushed in it.  Darius, pulled himself up, and dusted himself off.  He looked at Whitney and sighed in defeat.

            "Fine.  You can come."  Her gold eyes sparkled in excitement and victory.

            "Yay!" she exclaimed, and Darius cocked an eyebrow at her.  "I mean…Thank you." she said, bowing her head.