I own nothing.
Magus stared from atop a rock as he witnessed a gate open. The moon was clear, and its silvery beams bounced off of a waterfall of blue hair. A few loose strands made their way across Magus's pale face and into his fire and lilac eyes. A tattered crimson cape as red as blood fluttered around him, and his blue pants were ruffled by the wind. Magus crunched through the heavy snow of winter, to where the portal had left something. It moaned in the darkness of the pine trees, like the black wind that howled in Magus's ears. The things screams contained the stories of a thousand murders, and wars, and the saddened tale of one. Magus drew his silver scythe, and proceeded towards the thing that lay on the ground. He kicked it. It moaned again. "P-please…h-h-help m-me…" It stammered. Magus knelt down cautiously to examine its face. What he saw was the face of a frightened little boy. "Who are you?" Magus questioned in a scratchy unused voice that he had not needed for almost a year. "G-general A-A-Alex, tr-traitor to the m-mystics, and new-former-general of king Guardia XX's army…" He replied. Magus's eyes widened in realization. In history, somewhere between the Jurassic period, and the Dark ages, A general of the mystics army had vanished during a raid of Guardia XX's castle. "I will take you to a safe place. We will talk more when we reach that location." Magus explained, and heaved the boy's limp body into his arms, cradling the child awkwardly. Time to pay Lucca a visit.