Dharc liked Endymion's Magical Citadel.
The city was a beauty and nearly bridged the gap between magic and machines. His friends were there, as were many of his fellow spellcasters, not to mention that he did like a bit of sunlight every now and then.
But in his book, none of it quite compared to Ohm. It was where he studied and spent a good part of his childhood. With its eternal night, the darkness in the air was so pure that there were few places better to cast dark magic.
It would've been a near paradise had the trees been less ugly and if there were fewer zombies crawling around.
A winged eyeball fiend bumped into Dharc's shoulder, "Can't we back track a little? We haven't had dinner and I'm starving!"
"Don't worry Meda Bat, I promise we'll find you something to eat once I finish up." Dharc held out his staff, letting Meda Bat hang upside down. With his other hand he adjusted his belt which he had unclipped and slung over his shoulder, the travel bag attatched to it was filled to the brim with Magical Stones. Just the thought of that accursed mine made him grimace. It was one thing to stand back and admire the glowing stones, it was another to try to pry them out of the chalky rock.
Just how did those goblins mine those caves day in and day out?
"Don't worry, " Dharc said to the bat, "We're almost there."
That was a bit of a white lie, his destination was nearly a mile away. It was nothing more impressive than a tiny house...well, actually it was more like a clay square. But it was far into the forest, a nice quiet place to concentrate with no distractions.
The Shadow Priestess of Ohm had allowed him free reign of the place to further his studies. Sure, she wasn't as warm and loving as the Elemental Mistress Doriado but she gave him a much longer leash. As much as Dharc respected Doriado, he couldn't help but become fustrated with her reluctance to give him any reign to actually use his dark magic.
Sure, Hiita could perform a fire ritual that could potentially burn down half the city but nooooo, as long as she was within a five mile radius she would stop him from performing a simple little dark ritual.
Maybe the Shadow Priestess was right when she said that Doriado feared what she could not control.
But which ever teacher he had, he needed to practice his Spiritual Art. He had wanted more than a simple attack or defense spell. If there was one thing that the Shadow Priestess had taught him, it was the power of desire. There was a reason that his Spiritual Art was labeled Greed.
He had tried to started small (after making sure that Doriado was at least six miles away from him), but ironically it was nearly impossible to perform the art on minute objects. After all, there was a limit to how much he could want an apple.
So afterwards, he had to get some help from his friends. Lyna had been yapping for weeks about Kuribohs, apparently she had never seen anything more adorable. But there was the small problem that Lyna could be rather loud and that Kuribohs can be rather jumpy.
So Dharc had sat Lyna down and asked her to tell him all about how much she wanted a Kuriboh. It didn't take long to set her off, just a few verbal jabs here and there. After forcing himself to listen to her ranting-she really did want a Kuriboh-for an undetermined amount of time, his head was pratically buzzing.
Trying very hard not to feel pleased with the result of his experiment, Dharc tried once again to perform his dark art and retrieve a Kuriboh. He had used his annoyance and perpetual headache as a focal point.
He succeeded.
Although looking back on it, it wasn't much of a real success. He hadn't made a sacrifice to the spell and the Kuriboh was only a few yards away. And not to mention that being annoyed at Lyna was neither a powerful desire nor an uncommon occurance. But everyone had to start somewhere, right?
But now he had the perfect enviornment, the proper sacrifices, and more experience.
After a long period of silence, Meda Bat piped up again.
"Are you sure you want to summon it?"
"Sure", Dharc replied, "What's the point of summoning little furry monsters? Besides, it's not like I'm going to use it or keep it, I just want a look at it."
"And you're absolutely sure she won't come after you and enact some horrible revenge?" Meda Bat asked, it's one large eye blinking rapidly.
"Saggi danced on her grave", Dharc said, "And if that clown can get away with something so stupid then I should be fine. Don't worry, she travels through the ground, right? So I'll just stick it in the dirt and she'll pick it up. If you've been dead for that long, then you must have aquired some kind of humor."
"You're not helping the whole dark equals evil stereotype, Dharc." Meda Bat sighed.
"Come now Meda Bat, you know that's a load of crap. When was the last time someone called the Dark Magician evil?" Dharc snapped back.
With that he snatched Meda Bat by the tail and tucked it under his arm to stop anymore questions.
By the time Dharc arrived at the clay square, the temperature had dropped considerably, the only indication that the hour had changed. He walked in, bolted the door behind him, and set his belt onto the bench.
Letting Meda Bat hang from the door frame, he opened his travel pack and pulled out the Magic Stones. He tossed handfulls of Magic Stones into the large silver dishes of the tall candle holders, careful not to waste any of the precious mineral.
Once the Stones were evenly distributed, he picked up the Jar of Greed from the corner. He spashed oil into the dishes before replacing the Jar, and after a moment of consideration, turned it's grinning face towards the wall.
"Okay, now the sacrifice."
With a wave of his staff he summoned the Doomsday Token that he had fished out of the forest. And with a flick of his wrist, the candle holders began to burn with an eerie blue fire.
"I think everything is ready, do you think I miss anything Meda Bat?" Dharc asked.
"Nope, not that I remember." Meda Bat answered, it tightened its claws on the frame and tried to make itself as small as possible.
Taking a deep breath, Dharc held his staff straight forward and focused on channeling his magic.
Anyone with a dark attribute would want at least a look at the object he was trying to summon. A one of a kind weapon that was made not for the living or the reanimated, but only for those who were dead from the beginning. And as far as he knew, there was only one creature that filled that requirement.
However, after several minutes, nothing seemed to be happening, the seal hadn't even appeared on the ground. Dharc had counted this as only an intermediate attempt. He was still alive so the weapon would be pratically powerless in his hands, so why was it so hard to summon?
Okay, patience, he thought to himself, focus only on your desire. The desire to further his knowledge, this was in the name of ambition. There wasn't anything else he wanted more at the moment, nothing at all. This was all to further his magic.
Throwing caution to the wind, Dharc allowed his magic to rush freely through his staff. Moments later a flash of light began to split through the floor. It formed into a round seal, forming the character for Greed in the middle.
Now with something visual to focus on, Dharc traced the lines with his magic and the light steadily grew stronger. Then a powerful blast of wind rocked the room, knocking over the Jar of Greed and nearly blowing Meda Bat off its perch.
Tendrils of darkness rose up from between the thin lines of light and seized the Doomsday Token. With in seconds and one lighting fast motion, the Token disintegrated and its energy was sucked into the seal.
Inhaling sharply, Dharc slammed the end of his staff into the ground, sending a ripple of dark magic into the seal.
"Spiritual Dark Art: Greed!" he yelled with all his might.
A burst of black light shot from the seal, through the skylight, and straight into the night sky. A reflection of the seal appeared, branded into the inky sky and and a blackened object began rising out of the seal.
Once the end of the object left the ground, the seal shattered and left its summon hovering in the air, cloaked in black.
Feeling slightly winded, Dharc reached forward and grabbed the object. The second his fingers made contact, the blackness broke, revealing a battered old scythe.
"This is it!" he whispered in wonder, "The scythe of Guardian Dreadscythe."
After setting the Jar of Greed back upright, he sat down on the bench to catch his breath. He stared at the scythe in his hands, it looked brokened and rusty but he could feel a powerful energy pulsing from it. Pure darkness radiating from metal, likely the only thing holding the ancient thing together. Never had Dharc felt such a complete power.
Meda Bat cautiously moved from his perch to Dharc's shoulder.
"Incredible, it's making my wings tingle just being near it." the bat chirped, "Are you happy now? You finally successfully cast your Spiritual Art."
"Yeah, I'm happy now." Dharc said, still a little breathless but smiling broadly.
They sat like that for a while, enjoying the waves of darkness coming off the scythe. But after a few minutes, Dharc began to regain his head.
"That's enough of that." he said, standing up so suddenly that Meda Bat nearly toppled off his shoulder, "We'd better return this before we have an angry Guardian Dreadscythe coming after us."
Walking back into the cold night air, he planted the scythe handle first deep into the ground. And just as an offer of apology, he also left the orange from his pocket.
"Wait a minute, why didn't you just eat the orange if you were so hungry?" Dharc asked.
"Nasty!" Meda Bat narrowed its eye, "After all these years together, you should know that I hate fruits and vegetables."
Dharc shook his head in mild amusement and patted the eyeball fiend, "Now let's go find you something to eat that won't make you gag."
"Can't we go find a nice restaurant? I actually want to have a nice proper dinner for once and not fly and eat like we're in some kind of rush." Meda Bat whined.
"Alright, alright," Dharc relented, "But we're not going to the Bistro Butcher's any time soon. Last time we were there, he set a Hamburger on the patrons."
AN: Well, thanks for reading!
Dharc is the only charmer that I ever get to use effectively, the people I duel aren't all that diverse in their types.
Anyways, my interpertation on his personality is that he's more of a loner than the other charmers, cunning, and perhaps a bit cold, but not completely all doom and gloom.
I'm aware that my grammer is not perfect, so reviews and advice is welcomed.
By the way, this is not suppose to be a one-shot. Key word: suppose