Hi guys, Noble Scotsman here with Chapter 1 of Schwarz Herz. I hope you enjoy.
Chapter 1
I'm…weak…
The night was cool, remarkably so for a desert in early Spring. The stars watched serenely over the city, the towers of Phoenix stretching towards the skies of Arizona, following the gaze of a small, dark figure lying beneath the shelter of a few trees, surrounded by grass. The expanse of grass alone was a rare sight for such a desert city, but it grew strong and green, dependably stretching towards the heavens as others gave up and crumbled away.
The grass never crumbled, but lived and grew taller continuously, its dream of touching the sky everlasting.
This was a certain haven in the city, a sort of playground for the rich and talented to escape the desert heat. The sanctuary - the school - lay upon bare, scorched earth, but within its walls, safely cradled in its embrace, lay a green paradise. Water flowed freely from fountain to fountain, trees and greenery surrounded the students as they went about their education, oblivious to the oasis around them, and a light wind always blew, bringing with it the scent of freedom, fresh air, and open sky.
This was the reality of the school which the figure attended, and the difficulty excelling with which each student struggled.
"Hey…Lance…" a voice said, stepping out from the shadows of one of the trees, leaning over his friend worriedly. "It's getting late…Do you need a ride?"
The figure on the ground shook his head before pushing himself wearily to his feet. He was taller than his companion, if only just, and had a deep black hair compared to his companion's oddly-colored white color. Reaching out, he retrieved his backpack from where it had sat on the ground, and after a moment of pause, retrieved his gym bag as well. The other figure sighed and took the gym bag for Lance, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
"Hey, let's go…You live near here, right?" he said as they started walking, emerging into the darker city outside the safe walls of the school. They walked in silence for a while, each absorbed in their own thoughts, until Lance finally sighed, breaking the tension that had built up between the two students.
"Thanks for coming to the tryouts, Alex," he said, taking the gym bag back from his best friend and swinging it effortlessly to perch on his shoulder.
"Haha – no problem. We're best friends after all, right?" Alex grinned, throwing an arm around his friend. "I missed the rest of your tryouts this week, right? So this was my last chance! Aww, I want to come to more tryouts again soon…"
Lance nodded, understanding. There was something intrinsically exciting with tryout week for any sport, especially volleyball. The speed and intensity of the players, plus their expert co-ordination with one another on the court, excites the hearts of those watching and invigorates those on the court to perform even more brilliantly for their team. Alone they may be skilled, but together they are strong. That was one of the reasons why Lance had tried-out for volleyball, after all.
Strength. The power to accomplish one's own goals. That was what he wanted.
Above all, though, he craved something else….a basic longing instilled in him since before he could remember, one that longed for something to happen, anything to happen, for his dull school life to become interesting and exciting.
"So…how'd you do?" Alex's voice brought Lance back to reality, and he shrugged noncommittally.
"I…uh…was cut from the team…" he said quietly, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and Alex stayed silent, sympathizing with him. That was one of the things he liked best about Alex, he always knew when silence was more than enough.
"That's ok, buddy," Alex said, after a while. "You'd be wasted on the volleyball team anyway. And now," he leaned in conspiratorially, a mischievous grin on his face, "you can focus on what's really important."
"What?" Lance said thickly, not willing to be amused.
"Getting a girlfriend, of course!" Alex proclaimed, spinning away, clutching his hands to his chest in a heartfelt proclamation of love. "It's love, love, love!"
Despite himself, Lance grinned. "Hey, you don't have a girlfriend either. What allows you to harass me, huh?"
Alex spun around and rejoined Lance, his bracelet bumping jovially against his wrist from the ferocity of his movements. "Ah, you see, I, unlike you, have a large following of fan girls – all of whom would be delighted to date me!"
"Ah…your visual novels again?" Lance said, shaking his head in mock disgust.
"Hey! Don't under-rate the value of virtual love! It's love, love, love!" Alex proclaimed again, absorbed in his own display.
"Hey, love-boy, we turn down here," Lance called, pointing to a street Alex had just passed-by. The eccentric boy returned to his friend's side, peering down the dark street with noticeable unease. It wasn't an alleyway or a normal place to be jumped, but it never hurt to be careful in Phoenix, after all. A single lamppost flickered on and off, illuminating a portion of the street and revealing the nature of the surrounding buildings, the backs of shops which faced the two busy streets on either side of the two students.
"Hey, hey…are you sure about this..?" Alex asked skeptically. "I don't remember going this way before…"
Lance walked past him, stepping into the dark street and bumping his fist against his friend's head. "That's because you've never walked home with me when it was dark before," he stopped and pointed down the road. "There's a brightly-lit street on the other side with the pretzel place you really like, remember?"
"Ah…it's coming back to me…" Alex said, drooling slightly as he contemplated the warm, salty goodness of the store's soft pretzels. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to take a short cut for my bestest friend in the world, could it?" he decided, stepping lithely to his friend's side, the two promptly beginning down the street.
"It never has before…" Lance shrugged, and the two kept up a light banter as they neared the lamppost. Stopping beneath its steady glare, he pointed down the road to where they could clearly see the lights of cars and street lights glowing ahead of them. "See? Nothing to worry about."
As Lance stepped out of the light, the night seemed to become colder, the stars dimmed, and a strong wind suddenly picked up. Alex grabbed Lance's wrist and jerked him behind him with seemingly inhuman strength, his strange white bracelet that he always wore beginning to glow, spreading the light out through the dark.
"Who's there?" Alex's voice cut through the darkness, no longer the light, airy voice of a student, but one imbibed with power and importance. "Reveal yourself!"
"Alex…are you o-" Lance began, but cut off as Alex flashed him a scathing, superior look filled with malice and disgust. His features had sharpened, and there was no kidding-around in his face as he looked with scorn upon his best friend.
"Shut up," he said simply, turning away. "If I need to, I'll remove you."
Lance felt a lump in his throat, and a knot tightened in his gut. So…this is fear… He raised his eyes to where Alex was looking, but could not see anything beyond his friend's back. Suddenly, in the middle of the street, a figure appeared seemingly out of nothing where previously there had been only dark road.
"I don't know who you are, but if you challenge me, you shall be destroyed," Alex's voice rang out confidently, taking a step forward. A bright light surrounded him, and as it cleared, a girl stood in his place, with similar features but…different, somehow. A long, curved sword appeared in her hands and she leveled it at the man in front of her menacingly. "Prepare to die, in the name of the Moderators!"
Lance nearly screamed with fear for the figure's life as Alex leapt at the man with her sword, a deadly arcing slash aimed to kill him well on its way to completion. With a clash of steel, though, the man parried the deadly attack with an intricate rapier, a pommel-strike to the chest propelling Alex backwards several feet. She spat, and white, glowing energy came out, dissipating into the air before it could reach the ground.
"You…You're the one they call Lucifer, aren't you?" Alex said thickly, clutching her chest. "The one who has been going around killing white kämpfers, aren't you?"
"Yes, scimitar-type Schwert kämpfer. I am here to purge you," the man said calmly. With a start, Lance saw he was looking at him, and quickly averted his eyes. There was something about this man that spoke raw power and untapped energy, the ease of his motions concealing the immense strength beneath. Glancing back to Alex, Lance began to see just how unmatched his friend was.
"Wait! Stop!" he called, struggling to his feet and jumping in front of Alex. "Wait, Alex! I don't know what's going on, but you can't beat him! Please just stop!"
Alex's eyes narrowed, and suddenly Lance felt a cold pain creeping from his hip to his shoulder and, before he could react, he was lying on the ground. Something warm was cocooning him in its safe embrace; coughing, he realized it was blood. Searching for Alex's eyes, he found the fury in them, the utter hatred of dealing with such a trivial matter for so long prevalent, and they turned away from him, leaving him to his fate.
How unfair…
I'm…weak…
Panicking, Lance sought the gaze of the other, and he gazed into the man's eyes, something there seeming to reassure him, if only a little. The darkness in them, though wild and powerful, seemed gentle, almost, and through the pain, Lance saw acknowledgement in his gaze.
"How unfortunate I had to sully my hands with such trash…" Alex said, wiping her blade clean. "I had had enough of that for several millennia."
"Ah…and you would know all about a millennia, wouldn't you?" the man asked calmly.
"You – how dare you speak to me as though you know me!" Alex proclaimed vehemently, stepping towards the man. "How dare you challenge the embodiment of the Moderators' will on Earth! Scum such as you are outclassed compared to a white kämpfer such as myself."
"You dare presume to challenge me, kämpfer?" the man said quietly, his simple question seeming to quieten the entire city, as though the entire population of the state was awaiting his righteous judgment. His voice was no longer quiet, though in volume it was – it was rather something felt in one's entire body, fearing it, feeling the malice. He took a step forwards, and Alex took a step backwards. "I am known as the Nightwalker, the Lord of Gloom, the Ravager, or the Raven of the Hunt. I embody destruction…power…darkness," he took another step forward, his body shifting in and out of focus as darkness surrounded him, his eyes glowing malevolently from beneath his long, unkempt hair. Alex took two steps backwards, but the Nightwalker suddenly sprinted, his speed beyond superhuman, and seemed to appear before Alex, who promptly dropped her weapon out of fear, all of her pugnacious nature and defiance having drained away in terror of this entity.
"M-moderator!" she cried softly, her terror absolute.
The end was quick, too quick for Lance to see with his quickly-deteriorating vision, but the very air seemed to be split in two with the ferocity of the strike, and a tremendous scream of fear and pain went up from Alex before quickly being silenced.
Regret danced across Lance's mind as he observed the victor's power. If only…if only he had been able to be as strong as him…perhaps he too might have had the potential to change the world…perhaps he might have been able to save Alex, whoever he…no, she, was.
I'm…weak…
When he opened his eyes again, the man was standing over him, his features impassive as he regarded the dying boy.
"You are near death…You must choose your destiny yourself," he said softly, his voice musing. "What will you do?"
I'm weak…but closure is weaker still…I cannot allow my further deterioration.
"I choose…" Lance said, the world swirling around him as he spoke, his voice unsteady as he felt his life slipping away.
The wound was mortal.
He would definitely die.
If I'm going to die, I'll die with a purpose.
"…destiny."
So, how was it? Please review with any comments or advice.
Chapter 2 should be out soon.