Threads of Fate
Chapter 1- Soul less
He paced from one end of the corridor to the other. The tall, slender windows pulling in light from the pale, emotionless moon. It was cold out in the forest, simply because of that, the moon. It made everything seemingly chilled when night fell upon the Hidden forest. The general's eyes shifted about the faces of his troops. When he finally made his way to the furthermost end, opposite the door, he stopped. Before him sat a young man sitting calmly in a chair made of stone. His eyes, a deep crimson tinged with violet when light hit them just right. He was slender in build, no older than 18. A nasty little grin smeared across his face.
He spoke,"General Maesxen, you look a little distraught, would you mind telling me what's wrong?" With his free hand he combed his dark gray, almost black hair. He continued
"Because to me, it looks as though 20 or so of your men were silenced, turned into smoking piles of sulfur."
"How dare you! You worthless Mon---" the General's voice was cut off by the young mans response to Maesxen's statement. He held up his free hand yet again, as if showing it off, grinning wider now
"Turned into sulfur by these very fingertips."
A chuckle escaped his lips…loud enough to echo but quiet enough to make people in the chamber listen attentively. A subtle murmur filled the corridor, as though the soldiers assigned to execute him we're judges rather than military men. A yell rang out against the wave of voices,
"Silence gentlemen! The time is here!" Came Maesxen's old, sand papered voice. His portly frame stood before the gentleman in the chair.
"Atlas Bloodstone, I hereby sentence you under the divine rights of Wingly Law, that you be silenced here, and your remains taken to the Forbidden land, and tossed into the former dwelling of the divine dragon…fitting place for such a horrid monster. You've taken the lives of many innocent people here, and corrupted our system by coaxing a human into our world." The general took a moment to ponder his words and spoke further
"We've worked so hard to remain hidden, and you, a pariah among our flock, has decided to break our laws and codes. You are no more a Wingly than you are a fiend, and do not deserve to call yourself as one of our blessed race. Farewell Atlas, may the other side bring you rest and may you find solace in your passing. Blades up gentlemen!"
Calm passed throughout the room. It was as though a sigh of relief had moved through and every mind was at ease about the fact that it was almost over. The wingly ranks, row by row, 15 men at the most, stood before Atlas. With fear and panic racking there body, they all raised their blades in unison. He threw back his head and howled with laughter for a few seconds, and then looked back to face his apparently eminent fate. A determined look on his face.
"Are you…really sure you want this now..?" Comes his voice as clouds pass over the moon and the corridor becomes darkened. The hilts of their swords begin to shine with a burning light. All that becomes visible of their target is one crimson glowing, cat-like pupil. "So be it!" Atlas growls as small crystals of fire shoot from the blades, and the young mans deep red pupil vanished in the darkness…
