Welcome to the improved version of "Heart of a Warrior." Now to be known as "Blind Faith." Thank-you to Sanctus Sanguis who is beta-ing for me and also inspired me to rewrite "Heart of a Warrior."
Please enjoy. Reviews are welcomed. Flamers – you're just wasting your time.
I welcome constructive criticism with open arms.
This chapter is just to establish the situation and the main character.
I will be posting descriptions of any races I make up (example: the Vamuells) on my profile. I will also include bios of my original characters. Any questions about my original characters or races can be e-mailed to me.
Disclaimer: I'm saying this once and only once. I do not own any of Naughty Dog's games, characters, ideas ect. I only own my original characters, concepts and races. If you want to use the Vamuells please ask me first.
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Blind Faith: Beginnings
The Vamuells. Still, centuries after their disappearance the mere mention of the word could evoke a twinge of uneasiness and fear in the hearts of those who remembered the stories of old.
The Vamuells were a fierce warrior race, who often hired out as assassins and mercenaries. They were efficient and ruthless.
And that is why they were hired by the Hora-Quan.
They were bought over with promises of wealth and power; the two things which no Vamuell could refuse.
Their objective?
A full-out assault against the Precursors.
It was a bitterly cold winter's day when the combined forces of the Hora-Quan and Vamuells struck out against the Precursors.
A fierce and bloody battle ensured, and after almost a month of conflict the Precursors were forced to retreat and go into hiding to protect their dwindling numbers.
A considerable amount of Hora-Quan and Vamuells were killed; but the loss was nowhere as near as devastating as the Precursor's.
But the trouble didn't stop there. The Hora-Quan refused to pay the agreed upon price; saying that they hadn't destroyed the Precursors, therefore the terms of the payment weren't met.
The Vamuells were enraged. Gathering the remainder of their armies, they assaulted the Hora-Quan front.
But they were swiftly and brutally struck down.
The Hora-Quan then proceeded to storm the Vamuell fortress, where the old and the young remained. They were rounded up like yakkows and viciously massacred.
All but one.
A young girl, scarcely turned five. Just before the Hora-Quan broke through the barrier her panicked mother created a portal and pushed her through it, murmuring a few words of reassurance to the confused child.
As the barriers started to give the woman pushed a small green stone into the child's small hands.
Just as the portal closed the woman had just enough time to utter a small prayer for the child before she was ripped open by the cruel claws of the Hora-Quan.
The Hora-Quan were too late however, the portal had closed and the child had gone.
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Present day
Earth
"Pshht, this is Squad Alpha; we have encountered some heavy Metal Head resistance, over. Pshht."
"Psssshht, fire at will soldier, Pshht."
"Psssshht, affirmative cap'n... Whadda? Crap! Abort, abort I say! No!"
Taylor, a teenage girl of fifteen years sat cross-legged in front of a T.V. She had been playing Jak II for the umpteenth time and had been overrun by Metal Heads.
She blinked.
"Well that sucks."
The now sulking teen was about average height, with pale skin, grey-blue eyes and short, spiked up blonde hair.
Her clothing was simple and comfortable – a pair of worn, faded blue jeans and an oversized grey shirt.
She turned to glare at the screen, and gave an un-lady like snort of disapproval. Sighing, she tossed away the controller and lay back on the ground with her arms pillowing her head.
She was just about to doze off when a sharp voice penetrated her sleepy haze.
"Tay-lor!"
She choked.
Taylor jumped up and looked around wildly before grinning sheepishly, realizing it was just her stepmother.
"Yeah?"
Taylor's stepmother, a sharp, no-nonsense kind of woman; pointed to the digital clock perched precariously on a pile of console games. The bright red letters showed the time being 8:27.
The teen blinked. Her brain, after been fried by television, was unable to immediately make the connection. She instead settled for shooting a bemused look at her stepmother, shrugging and replying dismissively.
"Your point being?"
An irritated sigh followed the question, and the one-worded answer that followed sent the half-awake teen into a panicked frenzy.
"School."
Seeing as school started at nine-fifteen Taylor now had a total of forty-eight minutes to get ready, travel to school and get to her first class.
Making a mad dash to her room, Taylor rummaged through her closet and pulled out a clean, albeit slightly crushed, uniform. It consisted of a dark blue shirt with a light blue stripe on each sleeve and wave patterns on the edge of the collar. The words "Runcorn High", were stitched on the left breast in light blue. The pants were simple black slacks.
After shedding her previous clothing and pulling on the uniform, Taylor grabbed her bag and, after consulting her timetable shoved the required books in it.
She quickly brushed her teeth and then started the hunt for shoes and socks.
After locating the renegade footwear and pulling them on, Taylor seized her lunch money and after unceremoniously shoved it in her bag before dashing out the front door and diving in the grey 4x4 that was parked outside.
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Taylor climbed out of the car and, after waving goodbye to her stepmother, walked into the school. It wasn't long until she spotted her best friend Kerri. Kerri had been Taylor's friend since first grade. She had dyed red hair, (it was originally brown) and hazel eyes.
The two friends greeted each other and made small talk before they headed off to their respective classes. For Taylor it was photography.
Half an hour later, Taylor was in the darkroom developing the photos that she had taken the week before. They were for her assignment in which she had to show a subject through the photos. For her subject she had chosen to contrast innocence and corruption.
It was black and white – like all the others she had done but the lack of colour made it stand out even more. Kerri was dressed in a white dress with angel wings strapped to her back. She had a tormented look on her face as she reached out to the camera. Behind her crouched Taylor. She was wrapped in black sheets that she had stripped from her bed and her eyes were lined heavily in black. She was loosely embracing Kerri from behind and a knife was clutched slackly in one hand.
It was supposed to represent the co-existence of the innocent and the corrupt.
Giving the photo one last glance, Taylor shook some of the excess water from it and walked over to the drying area and hung it up. Returning to her enlarger, she re-adjusted the zoom and continued with the developing.