"The Zypher"
Zen closed his eyes, his fingers grazing over his light magic tome, shrine. He opened his eyes, pushing his green locks from out of his face, glancing upward. His ears twitched slightly behind his locks, the sound of footsteps getting louder as the walker came closer. Zen tilted his head back and looked up into the face of one of the men he's currently traveling with.
"Sir Zen, we're about ready to leave." Came the man's voice, light in front of the Zypher.
"I see.. Thank you." Zen replied.
"You are very welcome.." The man smiled, bowing his head a little. He turned to leave.
"By the way, have you seen Harris about lately?" Zen asked before the man got too far away.
"He is tending to his inventory as we speak, Sir Zen." Came the almost immediate response, the man turning away once more.
"Thank you again." Zen said lightly, watching the man's retreating form.
Zen tucked the light magic tome beneath his arm and pushed himself to his feet. He followed after the man that had just come talk to him for a while, before turning on to a small root covered path, spotting a small tent off to the side. He tapped the flap of the tent, taking a step away so that the man within can appear from within. Harris, the traveling merchant, stepped from the tent and gave Zen a hearty smile.
"Good evening Sir Zen!" Greeted Harris.
"Always so happy to see me, Harris. It's grateful someone deems me worthy of a smile," Zen smiled back, patting the older man lightly on the shoulders.
"What do you mean, Sir Zen?" Harris asked, his light eyes suddenly contracting concern.
"The people of this troupe don't seem to like me in the least. Most try their best to avoid me. Oh well, at least I still have you and Carrie for company. And on that note, where might Carrie be?" Zen asked softly, his gaze set upon a stack of boxes waiting to be put inside the tent.
"She's off by yonder oak tree, meditating. Sometimes she scares me out of my wits, but I guess it's just her way. Oh well.." Harris escaped back into her tent, leaving Zen to himself.
"Haha! Harris, you need to hurry. The people have decided it is time to go!" Zen took off at a run, his black robes swaying about his ankles.
"No! I have yet to finish my inventory checks! Ah!" Harris was screaming bloody murder.
Zen laughed all the way up the hill to the aforementioned oak tree, his eyes quickly coming upon the petite form of Harris' daughter, Carrie. Her black hair shimmered slightly as the sun glinted across it. Her eyes were closed, not even flicking slightly as Zen came down on his knee beside her, his hand lightly touching the crystal orb held tightly within her grasp.
"Hello Sir Zen.."
"Mm.. Hello m'dear. How are you today?"
"Please shut up, Sir. I am trying to contact my mother."
"O-"
"Shut up!"
Zen made his mouth a tight line, watching her in silent protest. The crystal orb within her hands began to flicker and shower off flickers of light, each small "firefly" of light began to weave its own little path about the orb, before returning to the orb, before it began to glow. The light dissipated at the sounds of shouting from the village in the distance.
"Trouble! Sir Zen!" Came Carrie's shout, already on her feet.
Zen was up right after her, his eyes scanning the horizon, flames streaking through the skies and into the houses. Carrie smiled darkly and took off, Zen following after her, shaking his head quickly. They both passed Harris' tent at the same time, his head poking out. He squeaked and shrunk back into his tent. Zen flipped through the pages of his tome as he ran, his fingers tracing over the runic sketches along the pages. Carrie slid to a stop, spinning around, tendrils of magical energies flooding upward, the anima tome flashing within her grasp, before a sphere of fire launched itself through the crowds of people, colliding with a mage's face, launching him backward through a house.
"Carrie, watch out!" Zen yelled out.
Zen's hand launched forward, multiple explosions of holy magic ripping across the village, each blast erupting across the front of a brigand, slamming them backward across the soil. A massive scythe streaks through the air, slicing across the mandible of an armed villager, ripping his form clean in two. The Valewaker grinning as she turned to Zen.
"Why look at this.. It's the monk. Fayn! There he is! Get him," the Valewalker shouted.
The neighing of a pegasus reached Zen, as well as the sensation of magic being performed behind him. He turned his head and saw a pegasus, its rider's hands raised up, a sphere of fire accumulating, releasing it in Zen's direction. He dived forward, rolling to his feet, light magic erupting from his fingers, exploding across the pegasus and its rider, tossing them aside. He turned toward the Valewaker, but a fiery ball of fire magic rammed into the scythe wielder's side, slamming her through a hut at the side. Carrie grinned evilly, jumping down beside Zen.
"Thanks Carrie.. I doubt I could have taken on that Valewalker."
"I don't see how you beat that Flightmage either.."
"Flightmage?"
"Mage on a pegasus.. Her magic powers could have peaked at any moment. You're lucky.."
Carrie turned and trudged back to the camp, Zen watching her in silence. He shook his head and followed after her. Fayn, the Flightmage, landed deftly beside the destroyed hut. She pulled the boards back and found the Valewalker, a small grin on her face as she pulled her wounded companion from the debris.
"Arkine.. Wake up!" Fayn shouted, smacking Arkine across the cheek.
"Ow! Dammit Fayn!" Arkine jerked to life, rubbing her cheek in agony.
Fayn set her hand lightly over Arkine's, smiling as she lifted her to her feet. Fayn slid her arm around Arkine's waist, supporting her as she half-carried her over to Fafnir, her pegasus. She helped the Valewalker up on to her winged steed, before saddling up herself. She reached her hand back to caress Arkine's cheek, who smiled gratefully. Fayn pressed her heels into Fafnir's sides, causing him to rocket upward into the sky. The villagers were too busy clearing out the last of the bandits and assessing the damages to watch the spectacle, but Zen did, leaning against a shaded tree,
Zen closed his eyes, his fingers grazing over his light magic tome, shrine. He opened his eyes, pushing his green locks from out of his face, glancing upward. His ears twitched slightly behind his locks, the sound of footsteps getting louder as the walker came closer. Zen tilted his head back and looked up into the face of one of the men he's currently traveling with.
"Sir Zen, we're about ready to leave." Came the man's voice, light in front of the Zypher.
"I see.. Thank you." Zen replied.
"You are very welcome.." The man smiled, bowing his head a little. He turned to leave.
"By the way, have you seen Harris about lately?" Zen asked before the man got too far away.
"He is tending to his inventory as we speak, Sir Zen." Came the almost immediate response, the man turning away once more.
"Thank you again." Zen said lightly, watching the man's retreating form.
Zen tucked the light magic tome beneath his arm and pushed himself to his feet. He followed after the man that had just come talk to him for a while, before turning on to a small root covered path, spotting a small tent off to the side. He tapped the flap of the tent, taking a step away so that the man within can appear from within. Harris, the traveling merchant, stepped from the tent and gave Zen a hearty smile.
"Good evening Sir Zen!" Greeted Harris.
"Always so happy to see me, Harris. It's grateful someone deems me worthy of a smile," Zen smiled back, patting the older man lightly on the shoulders.
"What do you mean, Sir Zen?" Harris asked, his light eyes suddenly contracting concern.
"The people of this troupe don't seem to like me in the least. Most try their best to avoid me. Oh well, at least I still have you and Carrie for company. And on that note, where might Carrie be?" Zen asked softly, his gaze set upon a stack of boxes waiting to be put inside the tent.
"She's off by yonder oak tree, meditating. Sometimes she scares me out of my wits, but I guess it's just her way. Oh well.." Harris escaped back into her tent, leaving Zen to himself.
"Haha! Harris, you need to hurry. The people have decided it is time to go!" Zen took off at a run, his black robes swaying about his ankles.
"No! I have yet to finish my inventory checks! Ah!" Harris was screaming bloody murder.
Zen laughed all the way up the hill to the aforementioned oak tree, his eyes quickly coming upon the petite form of Harris' daughter, Carrie. Her black hair shimmered slightly as the sun glinted across it. Her eyes were closed, not even flicking slightly as Zen came down on his knee beside her, his hand lightly touching the crystal orb held tightly within her grasp.
"Hello Sir Zen.."
"Mm.. Hello m'dear. How are you today?"
"Please shut up, Sir. I am trying to contact my mother."
"O-"
"Shut up!"
Zen made his mouth a tight line, watching her in silent protest. The crystal orb within her hands began to flicker and shower off flickers of light, each small "firefly" of light began to weave its own little path about the orb, before returning to the orb, before it began to glow. The light dissipated at the sounds of shouting from the village in the distance.
"Trouble! Sir Zen!" Came Carrie's shout, already on her feet.
Zen was up right after her, his eyes scanning the horizon, flames streaking through the skies and into the houses. Carrie smiled darkly and took off, Zen following after her, shaking his head quickly. They both passed Harris' tent at the same time, his head poking out. He squeaked and shrunk back into his tent. Zen flipped through the pages of his tome as he ran, his fingers tracing over the runic sketches along the pages. Carrie slid to a stop, spinning around, tendrils of magical energies flooding upward, the anima tome flashing within her grasp, before a sphere of fire launched itself through the crowds of people, colliding with a mage's face, launching him backward through a house.
"Carrie, watch out!" Zen yelled out.
Zen's hand launched forward, multiple explosions of holy magic ripping across the village, each blast erupting across the front of a brigand, slamming them backward across the soil. A massive scythe streaks through the air, slicing across the mandible of an armed villager, ripping his form clean in two. The Valewaker grinning as she turned to Zen.
"Why look at this.. It's the monk. Fayn! There he is! Get him," the Valewalker shouted.
The neighing of a pegasus reached Zen, as well as the sensation of magic being performed behind him. He turned his head and saw a pegasus, its rider's hands raised up, a sphere of fire accumulating, releasing it in Zen's direction. He dived forward, rolling to his feet, light magic erupting from his fingers, exploding across the pegasus and its rider, tossing them aside. He turned toward the Valewaker, but a fiery ball of fire magic rammed into the scythe wielder's side, slamming her through a hut at the side. Carrie grinned evilly, jumping down beside Zen.
"Thanks Carrie.. I doubt I could have taken on that Valewalker."
"I don't see how you beat that Flightmage either.."
"Flightmage?"
"Mage on a pegasus.. Her magic powers could have peaked at any moment. You're lucky.."
Carrie turned and trudged back to the camp, Zen watching her in silence. He shook his head and followed after her. Fayn, the Flightmage, landed deftly beside the destroyed hut. She pulled the boards back and found the Valewalker, a small grin on her face as she pulled her wounded companion from the debris.
"Arkine.. Wake up!" Fayn shouted, smacking Arkine across the cheek.
"Ow! Dammit Fayn!" Arkine jerked to life, rubbing her cheek in agony.
Fayn set her hand lightly over Arkine's, smiling as she lifted her to her feet. Fayn slid her arm around Arkine's waist, supporting her as she half-carried her over to Fafnir, her pegasus. She helped the Valewalker up on to her winged steed, before saddling up herself. She reached her hand back to caress Arkine's cheek, who smiled gratefully. Fayn pressed her heels into Fafnir's sides, causing him to rocket upward into the sky. The villagers were too busy clearing out the last of the bandits and assessing the damages to watch the spectacle, but Zen did, leaning against a shaded tree,