IN ASSIOSATION WITH NO ONE YOU CARE ABOUT
A STORY OF EPIC EPIC-NESS
A TALE TOLD BY A COMPLETE IDIOT
WHO DISLIKES MATH GREATLY
AND SPONSERED BY YOUR LOCAL HOME-COMPUTER
TIME BEFORE DEATH.
Prologue: Keep Away From Children
In the valley of death there is a statue, a statue hidden away from the knowledge of all but those chosen to protect it.
It is forbidden to approach the statue. It is forbidden to touch the statue. But most of all, it is forbidden to look into the statue's eyes.
No one is quite sure way this has been outlawed. Some say the eyes possess. Some say they kill. Some say that gazing into the statue's eyes shall bring about the end of the realm. But one thing is certain.
Once you have looked into the statue's eyes, there is no turning back.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?"
The girl swallows deeply, her mind focused on the concept of her mission. "Yes." She says firmly, though her hands shake with uncertainty.
"And, you are aware, that if you fail this mission and are captured, the consequences will be dire?"
"I know." The girl maintains stiffly, features hardened.
The old man looks her over carefully. He senses the trepidation flaring out from her, the anxiety and doubt that pulses through her veins. But he also senses loyalty. Undying dedication so potent that it perishes any disbelief in her mind. She knows she will succeed, as does he.
The pregnant silence is broken by the ancient man's chuckle. "Alright, alright, now that I know you're serious about this mission…do you remember what you must do?"
"Of course! I must disarm the guards and then look into the statues eyes. And I keep looking no matter what happens until she awakens." She recites grandly, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
The man nods affirmatively. "Very well then. I'll send you on your way." He walks over to a small table, his extremely old age causing his movements to be slow and tedious. The girl follows her mentor gingerly, her eyes glinting with curiosity.
"This," he gestures towards an object on the table. "Is my most prized position. Only those with immortal blood flowing through their bodies can touch this. Mortals who come too close shall have their blood turned to fire and flesh to ash." Upon her teacher's warnings, the girl backs away cautiously while examining his possession. It is a crystal ball that seems older than existence itself. Several places are chipped or scarred, but the mystical powers it radiates are enough to send chills through every drop of blood in the body.
The man, however, approaches the crystal ball confidently and turns once more to his apprentice. "Remember, when you wish to return, call my name." She nods vigorously at the old man and he waves a hand over the crystal ball.
Everything suddenly begins to waver in front of the girls eyes. It becomes distorted and rigid, and then vanishes all together and for one, horrid moment she is in utter nothingness. Then, the appalling blackness melts away and she is standing in an eerie, flower-filled valley.
The sudden snapping of nearby twigs has the heads of the two guards swiveling sharply towards the sound.
"What was that?"
Both men raise their swords, their eyes narrowed towards the origination place of the noise. A moment passes and nothing stirs, yet they remain fully alert.
Another minute of intense silence reigns on before the men speak again.
"Are you sure you didn't imagine?" Asks one man, lowering his sword slightly but keeping his senses crisp and awake.
"Positive," replies the other boldly, his gaze sweeping the clearing for anything amiss. "I've been in the Guard since I was five, remember? I know when something's wrong."
The other man looks around warily as well, but hesitancy flickers in his emerald eyes. "Ethan, I've been involved in the Battle of Time since I was young too, but are you sure it wasn't an animal? There are a lot of rabbits around here…"
Ethan turns toward his colleague, his guard so drawn that it intimidates his companion. "Dillon, I'm telling you-" But he stops short, instinct causing his eyes to widen, and dives at Dillon, knocking him down harshly, the arrow that had been aimed for him instead hitting Ethan, passing through his ribs.
Dillon gasps as Ethan looks up at him, fighting for his life. Blood seeps through his shirt, and Dillon doesn't need to be told that the arrow was poisonous. "Don't let her…get the statue…" Ethan whispers hoarsely, blue eyes vacant. He then gives a small, giddy smile and whispers "Rochelle…"
Dillon looks down at Ethan's lifeless body, horrorstruck. Blood still flows out from the wound, and the arrow remains implanted in his chest, but still Ethan's dead eyes are alive with hope and determination, focused right on Dillon.
For a brief moment, Dillon gazes down blankly and despairingly at his breathless friend, but then he recalls his companion's final words and stands, sword in hand, looking around nervously but firmly for the attacker.
He finds her at once. The gentle breezes rustle her blonde hair in an angelic sort of way, and the light in her hazel eyes is enough to lower Dillon's guard entirely. And, even though she wasn't breathtakingly pretty, something about her was enchanting and so lovely that the fact she was holding a threatening weapon didn't register in Dillon's mind. She laughs; and her laugh is so melodic, so beatific, that it sends a slight shiver through Dillon's veins. She raises a hand leisurely and gestured to Dillon, silently asking him to come over to her.
So captivated by the mysterious beauty of the girl, he walks over in a zombie-like fashion; mouth open and eyes wide. The girl quickly embraces him, her arms wrapped tenderly around Dillon and she looks up into his emerald eyes admiringly.
"Who are you?" Dillon whispers vaguely, entranced by her touch.
"Ashlyn," she responds in a faint, cryptic way. She then leans closer to Dillon, her mouth right against his ear, and whispers politely. "The assassin."
And suddenly a stabbing pain thunders through Dillon's back, and he falls limply to the ground, shock all over his face. Ashlyn laughs, but this time it isn't so divine. With a sinking feeling, Dillon realizes he was tricked-Ashlyn is a member of the Order and it's her powers that make her seem so ethereal and innocent, not her soul.
Determined to protect the statue at all costs, Dillon attempts to stand but finds his legs refuse his command. They won't support him, or move at all. Then realization hit him-he should have been dead by now. Whatever Ashlyn has impaled him with was meant to stun, not kill. Face twisted and mouth misshapen, Dillon tries to cry out Arkarian's name (for surely if he came in contact with the man he would arrive instantly to help) but his vocal cords were paralyzed as well, and he can only manage a strange, gurgling sound. All he can do is watch as Ashlyn confidently approaches the statue, helpless and crestfallen, and does what is forbidden.
She looks into the statue's eyes.
The first thing Ashlyn notices is the statue itself. It is a large-than-life, towering seven feet tall, and clothed in an elegant flowing gown. Her long hairs extends to the bottom of her streaming dress, and although it appears to be made of marble, it is charred and scratched in many places, as though it has been a little to close to fire.
The next thing she grasps are the eyes. Made of luxurious, polished silver they glint oddly and gaze down upon the earth hauntingly. Ashlyn gulps, abruptly seeing why so many attempt to complete this mission but fail. She is suppose to look into the deathlike silver eyes for nobody knows how long while remaining sane-and yet the eyes are so shadowy, so tormented she doesn't know if she can.
Still, Ashlyn tries.
She looks up into the eyes with a solemn, hardened face.
Moments pass and nothing occurs. Still, Ashlyn struggles to keep her gaze lined with that of the statues, despite the nagging feeling that she should look away. From the sidelines, Dillon watches fearfully, searching for a confirmation of an unspoken fear.
Without warning, the sky begins to darken. The ground starts to tremble tremendously, as though the earth itself was terrified, and tears gather in Dillon's eyes as he sees a sight that torments him in his dreams.
Slowly but surely, the stone begins to fade, being replaced with the precise details of a human figure-pale skin, blood red lips, and brilliant flowing hair. The silver eyes that seemed to reflect fears tardily become real, living eyes, and the being pulses with unholy life.
Then, a little too quickly, the statue was no longer stone but real flesh-a living, breathing goddess that the world thought vanished from its glory.
Lathenia laughs wickedly as conscience returns to her, eyes ablaze with joy and soul aflame with the thoughts of revenge. The goddess straightens her shoulders and points at Ashlyn with one of her incredibly long fingers.
"You," she says gloriously, eyes twinkling. "You have summoned me from that Hell I was imprisoned in. For years I have waited for this day. You will be rewarded-with treasure or power or whatever you desire. You will be my most prized warrior, and rule by my side, enhanced with immorality, for all eternity. You shall be honored by your comrades and feared greatly by your enemies. Tell me, what is your name?"
But before Ashlyn, who is unsteady at the sight of this unearthly creature, can respond, a feeble moan is heard. Both the goddess and Ashlyn look towards the sound and see Dillon, recovering from Ashlyn's stunning blow-supporting himself by leaning against a nearby tree. When he notices the goddess's gaze upon him, his eyes widened fearfully with horror.
"Well, well, well, Bastian…it's nice to see you again." Lathenia says, each word laced with malice. "You betrayed me. You helped bring my downfall. You rejoiced at the sight of me dead. But let us put the past behind us…I will give you a second chance. You can join me again, Bastian. With my return, the Order will be strong once more. We will easily cut down the Guard and the world will be ours. But I will need experienced warriors to lead my forces, Bastian. You have that expertise. You could be my most faithful, most powerful warrior, Bastian. Or you could die here-just another pawn for the Guard. Chose, Bastian, and make your decision wisely."
Dillon's eyes gleam with firm, undying loyal, and he spits "Never."
"Then die," Lathenia replies severely. She extends her hand, and her finger tips start turning blue, sizzling with streaks of painfully bright light. It darts at Dillon-a huge current of blistering blue energy.
Dillon screams once.
TIME BEFORE DEATH
SPECIAL THANKS TO HANNAH
WHO EDITTED AND HELPED
AND PUT UP WITH THE ENDLESS E-MAILS BEGGING HER TO DO SO
AND THOUGHT UP THE TITLE
THOUGH I DOUBT SHE REMEMBERS SHE DID
I LOVE YOU HANNAH! THANKS A BUNCH!
Author's Ramblings: Surprisingly enough, I'm happy with this chapter. I know how rare that is, but I am! Sure, it's kind of rushed; by I think it turned out nicely.
And I'm ready for the flames. Just note that they will be used to power my flame-thrower.
And I know I SHOULD be updating the Followings, but I've got a major (and I mean HUGE!) Writer's Block for it. I'm probably going to have to give it a make-over in order to continue.
I'm done now. Hope you enjoyed the 5 pages. I Apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors- I didn't have a lot of time to edit this.
DISCLAIMER:
Its Marianne Curley's playground, I'm just playing on it. Characters are used without permission, but with respect and love.
If you steal my characters, plotline, or writing itself, expect to see me at your doorstep with a large, pointy stick and a big sheet of paper to give you the paper cut of a life time.
