Hullo there. First fic ever, please be honest, since I hardly think of myself as a writer. Please, be so kind as to review! Arigatou!
Awaken to the Threat
- "It was beyond your scope of understanding", said the young man, with his deep, resonating voice. He seemed very calm despite the severity of his words.
- "I didn't want to involve you, such a key character, in this power struggle. You understand, don't you?", again, with unnerving calm.
The Listener was still in shock, eyes wide open and mouth slightly agape as the information was processed. Surely it was all a mistake, or an elaborate hoax. Surely something of this disturbingly large proportion must be impossible to occur in secret, right? Thoughts of this nature clouded his judgment, until his calm companion raised his head, as though he had sensed something. It all happened in a blur of movement. The serene talker flung himself at the Listener, just as flames engulfed the spot they'd just been standing on a split second ago. The center of their rented room was being consumed by magically produced fire.
- "Marcus, get your wits about you man!" bellowed the Talker, all serenity vanished, only to be replaced by resolute, calculating eyes.
Marcus seemed to snap out of his reverie, and drew his saber. He quickly analyzed his surroundings. He couldn't make out the surge point of the magic.
The Talker slid silently with his back against the walls, evading the flaming center of the room, and made his way to the nearest window. He took a quick look, and frowned at the minimal visibility due to fog.
Suddenly, Marcus lifted his head. With his mind firmly set on surviving, his troubling thoughts were no longer important. Clear headed, Marcus was able to feel the prickling sensation in the back of his neck that all mages felt when magic was being gathered. He leapt towards his companion, and began whispering words in frenzy. As though it had been carefully synchronized, a blazing fireball blasted its way through the door and hurled towards them, only to be dissipated against a blue translucent barrier that materialized in front of them.
- "Daniel, on the count of three, we rush them. Agreed?" muttered Marcus.
- "Understood" whispered the Talker.
- "One…two...three!"
They sprinted towards the remains of the door, swiftly and silently. Outside, under the light of a full moon, two Soldiers and a Black Mage seemed startled at their prey's boldness.
Soon enough they would no longer be conscious of anything.
Marcus jumped high into the air, and as the enemy looked upward at him, preparing for an imminent execution once he landed, he began muttering arcane words of power. Marcus was no longer visible to the enemy, but rather, the full moon seemed to glow with a red hue, and it seemed to be spinning. Just as Marcus landed softly on the ground, the fell, in a deep sleep, onto the floor.
Daniel, however, was not content with just incapacitating his enemies, so with the swiftness of practice, he slid his knife out of his boot and slit the throats of the sleeping foes. He cleaned his knife on the cape of one of the soldiers, smearing blood on the crest that bore the sign of the Palace, but with inverted colors.
Turning around, Marcus faced Daniel with a piercing glare. The surge of magic force throughout Marcus' body was evident, namely by the blue tinges that swirled feely in his eyes; eyes that demanded more knowledge as to the circumstances they now faced.
- "Not now Marcus, now when we're still vulnerable here. Let's leave town, and in two days time all shall be known to you."
The glare did not diminish, but the demand for enlightenment was replaced by a powerful resolve.
As they left Cyril swiftly, Marcus realized how naïve he'd been.
He is now awake to the threat.
He fears it.