Here's another short chapter…
I know they're getting shorter, and I really am sorry. But life decided to throw a new set of challenges at me last month, hindering my writing process. -.- But, I'm back (temporarily), and here is your much-needed (albeit short) update.
Kindro15: I'm glad to help. ^^ I hope your writing goes well. One thing to remember, in fights, KEEP IT REALISTIC. Y'know, unless seeing fighting chairs are a normal thing there. ^^
Good luck with that book. When you finish, let me know, I'd love to read it! :3
Yes, I am a girl, and I'm very willing to talk over PM or email, if you want to . ^^ I'd love to talk.
Kirei Ryuusei: Have I thanked you yet for being a repeat reviewer? :3
Yeah, Nythera can be really… um… Well. You know. ^^"
Anyways, quick thanks to the reviewers, now let's get going. ^^
The clack of one set of claws on a cobblestone street announced our arrival at Amityvale. I warily looked up and around as I slid off of the griffin, taking little notice when the massive creature spread its wings again, launching its muscled mass off the ground again with a slight scrape of claws and a rustle of feathers.
I don't like this place, I internally grumbled, taking a slightly tighter grip on the oak wood of my staff. It's almost midafternoon. It should not be nighttime here, there aren't enough miles between here and Falconreach. I jumped and whirled as a raven loudly sounded a call of some sort behind me, and I discovered the large black bird to be resting on the branch of a dead tree right by the gates I was headed towards. As I approached them, a slight sense of foreboding swept over me, making me shiver and rub my upper arms convulsively.
The gates were wrought of black iron, and very ornate; I believe even one of the smiths in Falconreach might have had difficulty in duplicating them. I guardedly padded quietly along the cobblestones into the town, glancing around all the while. Looking ahead, I saw what must have been the town hall in a sort of Gothic theme, a small red fountain to the left of that, and a couple of shops were also in sight. However, the only person in sight was a young girl who appeared to be about the age of ten or eleven standing by the weapons shop with a chin-length black hairstyle and a rather frilly dress that I would have considered overdramatic, had it not worked on her. She looked rather mysterious, in a way, but not necessarily in a bad way. But for the moment, she was the only person I saw, so I was left with no choice but to ask her where Krieger might be.
Nythera said he was in Amityvale… now where is that pig?
"Excuse me," I said, strangely feeling the need to keep my voice down.
"Hi!" she chirped in a tone that seemed at odds with her Gothic apparel, "Welcome to Amityvale!"
Well, I'm in the right place.
"Thank you, do you know where I can find Artix Von Krieger?" I continued, inadvertently allowing my eyes to flick to both sides of where I was standing. I felt really on edge in this place—I didn't trust it in the least.
"Of course," she said with a small, mystifying smile. "If you'll follow the road to the right, where it then becomes a path, you should come across him in or around a cemetery shortly after you pass a stretch of woods! But be careful; the woods are haunted. Have a nice day!" she said cheerfully, as though having haunted woods was part of a completely normal day here.
It probably was.
Either way, I thought uneasily, I don't like this place. I'd better just find Krieger and get the hell out of here…
Taking a slight breath, I walked cautiously along the cobblestones towards the path that wound through the thick mess of trees ahead. Maybe I should have brought Kai. When I reached the dirt path, the lantern light from the town behind me faded, only to be replaced by moonlight whose brightness rivaled that of the sun back home. I bit my lip nervously, finally taking a deep breath to strengthen my resolve before striding quickly along the path leading into the woods before I could change my mind.
Ninety percent of all paralyzing fears in the world are purely mental, I told myself sternly, forcing parts of my body to relax a bit. This, of course, was easier said than done. But after a good four minutes of walking beneath the shady pine trees between moonlight and patches of shadow, I had neither seen nor heard anything. Not just things that could be classified as threats, but absolutely nothing. The forest was dead silent, for lack of a better term. It was eerily comforting, because I assumed that anything looking to attack me would make noise. How naïve of me, but it was the way I saw things.
I allowed a tiny half-smile to drift across my lips. I knew it. There's nothing here at this time of day… night? However, suddenly, my steps paused. It… looks like it's getting darker…
Indeed, an unnatural blackness was stealing over this stretch of the woods where I walked, starting at the very edges of my vision and spreading. My lip curled as I looked from left to right in quick succession, ready to bolt. There was always some sort of fear in the world that, to the human race, brought forth the most primal instincts. And even as I began to walk faster, so did the blackness move with me. It was spreading with alarming speed along the sides of the path, and up above me.
It was around this time that I broke into a flat-out sprint.
I tore down that winding path through the haunted woods, not able to see anything more than about eight feet around me. I had no idea where I was going, and I didn't care. This terrifying blackness scared the hell out of me, erasing all other thoughts from my mind until all that was left was sheer terror that could stop a man's heart. Instead, my own inner drum was thundering as I ran, sounding my pulse in my ears almost impossibly loud.
Then all of a sudden, I had to skid to a stop as I abruptly shot right past the edge of the trees. With the end of the trees came the end to the blackness, and moonlight shone brightly on the clear path ahead. I could see a sharp bend up ahead, lined by a colossal stone wall, making it impossible to see past it. I froze for a moment as I realized that my heart was still hammering, and chuckled a little breathlessly as I bent over a little, catching my breath.
There is so much wrong with me. I knew there was nothing there.
A self-deprecating smirk rested on my lips as I straightened up and extended my left foot for the first stride. Problem was, I never made that step.
What felt like a mountain hit me from behind, knocking every particle of air out of my lungs, throwing my head back and flinging me clear off my feet. A strange numbness consumed me in that instant, and I could see nothing but white. My heart sinking, I remembered my nightmare.
Suddenly, there was… nothing. I didn't exist. I had no body, I had no eyes. There was only my mind, and an endless white. Then a dull pain was radiating through my entire being (however big or small it might have been at that moment) until it felt like I was being torn apart limb from limb by dragons, while acid had replaced the blood in my body and whatever skin was left was being burned to a crisp. It was the worst pain I could have ever experienced, but the most horrible part of it was… it was all mental. I would have screamed until my throat was raw and bleeding, only I had no mouth to use or air with which to hear myself scream.
Oh, Lore…
No…
It's all coming true.
NO!
Artix ran a hand through his copper hair for the hundredth time.
What am I going to do? he thought irritably. Purifying undead isn't helping. It hasn't been! I can't get her out of my head… In frustration, the Paladin just scrubbed the palm of his metal glove across his forehead before looking up at the moonlit sky miserably. It had been over a month now. Winter was very near, if it wasn't here already, and Rolith was wrong. Idiot said he was going to talk to her. It didn't work.
As he leaned against the stone wall that lined the cemetery, Artix sighed—such a deep, broken sound that it could have tugged at anyone's heartstrings. A faint whooshing sound made him glance up at the path, wondering who from Amityvale would have been willing to come this far out, but what he saw made his breath catch in his throat. Walking slowly down the path, around the bend, was none other than the woman who had occupied his thoughts for the past several weeks.
"Magiya!" he exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face before he could stop it. He started towards her, but then as quickly as he had begun to move, he stopped. This was her, but… it wasn't. Artix stared at the figure before him. His talent for sensing the undead and basic evil only went so far, but right now, it was going haywire. "Magiya?"
The lady standing several yards from Artix didn't respond. His chocolate brown eyes searched her, seeking out any indication that she wasn't who she seemed to be. He didn't have to look for long.
Dressed in a slim-fitting silver robe, loose dark brown hair tumbled in waves over her shoulders, and several long strands covered her face. However, they were not enough to conceal the white glow emanating from the woman's eyes, spreading to form jagged white cracks splitting down her face around the place where her eyes should have been. Her face was completely emotionless, and it was this that made something within him shrink back from her.
This isn't her.
He warily took one step back, his sword tip lifting a few inches. In response, Magiya—for it was Magiya, on the outside at least—tucked her chin slightly, lifting her right hand in his direction in a sort of claw shape. Within her fingers, there appeared a black ball of energy with purple sparks dancing along its edges, and Artix allowed his body to sink back into a defensive posture with his sword.
Magiya isn't right-handed.
"Who are you?" he demanded, gripping his sword with both hands. Magiya made no reply, those glowing white eyes staring at him in a haunting manner. They had no pupils, no reflection marks; they simply were. The cracks leading halfway down her cheeks glowed in much the same manner. "Tell me!"
This second exclamation also went unanswered. What's happened to her?
Then all thoughts were dispelled from his mind as she simply flicked her wrist, sending the little black ball of energy flying directly at him. As a knee-jerk reaction, Artix swiped at it with his sword, and it hit the blade, deflecting. It was sent careening off to Magiya's left and right past her, looking like it might bounce off the stone wall behind her. Contrary to his expectations, though, the small ball of dark energy that was no more than four inches in diameter seemed to sink into the wall.
And then the wall exploded.
There was simply no other way to put it. The place where the dark magic hit the wall blew outwards, sending small chunks of stone soaring past his head. The resulting dust caused Artix to collapse in a fit of coughing. When the crap clouding the air cleared, though, he saw that Magiya wasn't even nearly affected. She had a small head wound that was almost irrelevant, slowly dripping blood, and was half-layered in stone dust from the explosion. She hadn't moved.
What the fuck is going on here?
*slow whistle* I know this was all planned for me, and it's not a surprise for me, but… Yikes.
Now, readers, remember, this is what comes of me writing at exactly… wow. Exactly 12:34 am. O.o
No, seriously.
Make a wish!
Now, I warn you for the umpteenth time, it may be a while before I update.
I thank all of you who have stuck with the story this far, and I want you to know I'm very grateful. (Wow, had to try four times to get 'grateful' spelled right. I really AM tired.)
Writing Tip: I find that emotive music tends to give my poor little author ego a nice kick right up the arse.
Hope you enjoyed, please stay tuned. Commercials are sponsored by Karma, Spanish Class, and Lack of Sleep.
Have a nice week (or two).
