As I've not gotten this far into
The Bane of Devastation quite yet, this story piece will be stored here until I get to where I plan to put it.
Bane of Devastation: We're in This Together, NowHe was walking alone towards the docks, his hands buried deep in his pockets. His eyes were directed downward, watching his feet as they trudged along the ground. He was tired and a little bit buzzed from having spent the evening at the inn, and his focus was on everything but his surroundings. Well, no. They were on the mysterious person that kept raiding his ship at night. He had turned the woman into the authorities when he finally captured her in his trap, but he wasn't convinced that they could keep her. She was small, yes, but she was strong and vicious. She had threatened him with swords on more than one occasion and had easily broken away anytime he put his hands on her. She was like a serpent -- slippery and deadly.
But also intriguing. But he knew better than to play with a serpent, so he decided to stop thinking about it. He had several trade runs to make in the morning, else his boss would be upset. Although it was strange that his boss would be upset with him -- he was, after all, the best trader they had. He always made it before or right on time, having absolutely no tardies to his name. His only problem was lately that strange woman had been raiding some of his hold...
There I go thinking about her again, he thought to himself, shaking his head as if he could toss the thoughts out of his head.
Is it possible that I have a...
"No," he said aloud. "Impossible." Surely he didn't have a puppy-love crush on that venomous vixen. Besides that, he already had a woman to call his own. A control freak of a woman who insisted on knowing where he went every time he left for sea. An extremely possessive woman who yelled and screamed and threw things at him if he ever came home late. He rolled up one of his sleeves and gingerly touched the large scrape on his forearm.
She had caused that, he thought to himself with a scowl crossing his weary face.
"You're never here when I say you should be," she had screamed. "You're lucky that I love you, else you wouldn't have a bed to call your own at night!"He blinked slowly, robotically. He knew that was meant to be a threat, but it... it just wasn't. She had grabbed a vase and threw it at him with a great violence, and he had brought his arms up to his face defensively. The vase struck his arms and shattered, a large piece of shrapnel causing the scrape that he was now slowly rubbing. He had remembered looking at her with a confused and wounded expression as he gripped the bleeding wound, but she had pointed to the door and insisted he find another place to stay that night. And he had pathetically submitted and did as he was told, sleeping on a ship and crawling back to her the next day, begging for forgiveness.
But
why? Was he just that afraid of being alone in the world? So terrified of singlehood that he allowed himself to be continuously abused by someone that his heart resented? His gentle eyes looked down at the ground again and threatened to water, and he growled at himself quietly for his weakness.
He didn't have long to dwell. A faint sound hit his ears, and he immediately jerked his head up and looked around. It was a strange sound -- a creaking, cracking noise. He couldn't say he'd ever heard such a thing before. He blinked when he realized the nighttime world around him had become strangely hazy, the air coated with a thick, heavy fog that held a very strange hue. It was a dark blackish red haze that felt nearly hot on his skin. His eyes widened with terror as he became aware of what was going on. He began running now, trying desperately to get to the safety of his ship as the cracking and creaking grew louder in his ears.
As he arrived to the docks a shadow leapt down before him, causing him to yelp and scramble backwards. He was greeted by a pair of hovering blue flames. His own eyes widened even more as he stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. The flames entered the light of a torch, revealing the flames to be in the empty eye sockets of a six-foot tall skeleton wielding a rusty, bloodied long sword. The skeleton looked down at him and smiled wickedly with its fiery eyes, slowly moving its skinless arm to point its blade at him.
His heart was racing so fast he was afraid it was about to explode. He dug his nails into the ground and scrambled backwards even faster, hearing nothing but the heavy pounding of his terrified heart in his ears. His breath was so shallow it was as if he were getting no oxygen at all -- he was strangling himself with his own fear.
The skeleton spoke in a dark, twisted, warbling voice. "Perhaps ye know where the Medallion is?"
"I... I know... no-nothing," the young man stammered in response, still clawing his way backwards. He suddenly bumped into something and looked up to see another skeleton looking down at him with the same dead, fiery eyes.
"Then we have no use for ye," the second skeleton spoke simply, "except for a new recruit."
The young man closed his eyes tight and attempted to curl up, but found bony, clawlike nails digging into his throat. He found himself effortlessly thrust upward to his feet. The claws dug in, and he felt his pulse vibrating against the bones that held him. He swore he felt himself bleeding.
Suddenly a dagger flew through the haze and sheared the bony arm of the young man's captor off. He fell to his knees clutching his throat, afraid he may be bleeding. His eyes darted around frantically, looking for who had come to his aid. He spied a rather small figure draped in a black cloak standing up in the trees nearby.
Could it be...?
The figure jumped down from the trees and stood wordlessly where it landed a few yards away. The skeletons turned towards it, abandoning their harrassment of the frightened young man.
"Who are ye?" One of the skeletons asked in an ominous voice.
The figure took a few steps forward towards the skeletons, still saying nothing. He wondered if he were maybe having some kind of alcohol-induced nightmare and he would soon awaken in his bed, shaking with fright but laughing at himself for being so afraid of his imagination. He had let go of his throat and was simply sitting on the ground, watching the scene unfold.
"We'll ask again," the second skeleton threatened. "Who are ye?"
The cloaked figure suddenly extended its left arm, a strange purple glow emanating from its palm.
He leaned forward a little, curious as to what he was seeing. He knew magic didn't exist... so how was that person creating that light? An alchemy trick? Furthermore, was that person a friend or foe? Perhaps he should get to his feet and run away.
The cloaked figure suddenly tossed the purple light into the air and caught it, its whole body suddenly erupting into a great amethyst flame. The figure reached to its side and grabbed what looked like a saber. Suddenly the blade of the saber transformed into a grand purple flame. His eyes were wide with shock. Was that figure a... demon?
The figure leapt forward, firing a small orb of purple light at one of the skeletons. Immediately the skeleton began to contract, quake, and pulsate in a manner that was both frightening and morbidly curious. Suddenly it exploded into a million bone shards, all except for its skull. The cloaked figure grabbed the skull and held it out for the other skeleton to see.
"You're next," the figure spoke to the other skeleton in a voice that was feminine... and strangely familiar to the young man.
"Ye saved us the trouble of tracking ye down," the other skeleton replied in a strange air of calmness. "Surrender the Medallion an' perhaps ye'll be spared."
The figure scoffed, launching forward with its amethyst-colored flame sword drawn. It crossed blades with the skeleton, and a fierce swordfight ensued. The young man watched in awe and shock, still not quite sure he was fully awake. He slowly rose to his feet yet didn't retreat into the night as he had planned. It seemed the cloaked figure was on his side.
The skeleton's sword was knocked away from it, and the cloaked figure stepped forward ominously, its left hand alight with a purple light. "Now to send you back to the hell from whence you came," the cloaked figure spoke gently. It launched another ball of light from its hand, firing directly towards the skeleton.
The skeleton, instead of curling up defensively, grabbed the young man and turned him into a human shield. The blast of purple light slammed into the frightened human, turning his vision completely purple. He suddenly felt as if he were levitating above the ground, and, to his distress, discovered that he was. The cloaked figure was looking up at him, as was the skeleton. His body felt a great force causing him to quiver and pulsate horridly, and he wondered if he were about to explode like the first skeleton had. Suddenly there was a feeling as if something were reaching through his chest and his ribs, clutching his heart with a horrible violence. His eyes began to roll backwards and he felt his life ebbing away. But as quickly as that feeling came, he felt a great surge of strength and energy rush into his body. His hands were suddenly alight with the same purple flames as the cloaked figure.
The skeleton had turned its attention away from the levitating young man and instead launched a vicious assault on the cloaked figure, knocking it to the ground. It grabbed one of the figure's daggers and held it up above its head, preparing to strike the final blow.
The young man stared at his hands. He looked at the skeleton, seeing it suddenly as a blue-colored object. The cloaked figure was a dark purple, and the rest of the world was simply grey. For a reason he wasn't sure of, he could sense that purple-colored objects were allies and blue-colored objects were enemies. Something very strange had just occurred to him, and he had a feeling that his life would never be the same. His heart and mind were telling him he had to do something to save the cloaked figure. He looked back at his hands and yelped softly as a purple orb of light formed in the palm of his right hand. He stared at the skeleton, his eyes wide as it was beginning to slash the dagger downward.
The young man growled softly to himself and involuntarily threw his right hand forward, launching the orb at the skeleton. His eyes widened as his strike made contact and the skeleton stumbled backwards, quaking and pulsating in that sickly curious manner as the first one had. It exploded into shards, all for the skull. The skull launched itself at the young man, who found himself catching it despite himself. He slowly lowered back to the ground and his vision returned to its normal state. A great surge of strength rushed out of his body, and he felt light-headed and weak. He stumbled and staggered, falling to his knees.
The cloaked figure easily caught him before he made it that far. The figure very gently lowered him to a sitting position on the ground and sat in front of him, gently stroking the side of his face with its hand. Despite his uncertainty of this person's intentions, he felt comforted and leaned his face somewhat against the figure's hand.
"Are you okay?" The figure asked. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to strike you."
"Who... who are you?" He asked instead.
The figure grabbed the hood of its cloak and removed it. A pair of large but gentle dark green eyes met his own blue ones. The face was small, pale, and its features were delicate. The hair was long, pulled back into a ponytail, and was the color of blood. He recognized her as the woman from his ship.
"You... it... it's you," he gasped, pointing a trembling finger at her. "From... from my... my ship."
She gently placed a finger against his lips, quieting him. "Shh. You're weak."
He turned his head away, not done talking. "Who... are you?"
"My name is Luca," she said, finally introducing herself. "You are?"
"Phil," he replied. "Why were... why were you... always stealing stuff..."
Luca smiled at him. "Hush, Phil. You need to rest and regain your strength." She rose to her feet, offering her hand to him. "Where do you call home? I'll help you get there."
He weakly looked up at her. The woman who had been so nasty and mean to him had such a strong change of heart. What did she want? "Why... are you... are you being so... nice... to me?"
"Because, Phil," her smile turned into a sad expression. "We're in this together now."
"In what?"
"I'll explain it when you've recovered," she explained. "To say the least, Phil... you're a miracle."
"Why?"
"I already told you -- I'll explain when you're better." She reached her hand toward him again. "Come on. Let's get you somewhere safe so you can rest."
He looked at her hand and then at her. Something told him to trust her. Weakly, he nodded his head and took her hand, awkwardly rising to his feet. He was unsteady and woozy, hardly able to stand on his own. Luca gently wrapped an arm around his waist -- she was significantly shorter than he -- and held onto him tightly. Despite himself, he found himself leaning against her.
"Thank you," he murmured weakly.
"No problem," she replied. "Remember. We're in this together now."
He was quiet a moment, and then nodded again. "You're right, Luca. We are."
Slowly and carefully, the two made their way towards the ship Phil was planning to spend his night on.
