literature

Redeemer of Souls - ENGLISH 3

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James could barely believe his eyes, but the glorious gates of Alarise... they lay in ruins. It seemed that they were mercilessly shattered by the force of a whole army, as the marks that they left behind told him. An army much bigger than the one they encountered in the east, but they already moved off.
“We’re too late...” Andrew checked the safety of the wreckage of stone and scales of wood and went inside coughing as a cloud of dust dispersed from the pile.
Some stables and buildings were still aflame, brightening up the whole street. Others were burned out. It was already conjecturable that all the life that once inhabited them was remorselessly erased by the monsters of the bloodthirsty, undead army. The chaos extended through the streets and beyond, where the path of destruction slowly came to an end.
As Lord James looked about, he shivered with what he saw. Now he started to become noticeable.
“Egad! Never have I felt such a sinister presence. Not even as we approached the base of the undead this morning.”
“Heh... now that you said it, I feel it too. It looks like there are still several creatures of the dark amongst these streets.”
Suddenly, a violent screech interrupted the endless silence. Doubtlessly, neither could belong to a woman nor a man.
“Did you just hear that sound? There might still be humans and elves that need our help in battle! Follow me,” the old elf rushed.
Andrew took a few steps as a strange feeling of hesitation forced him to stay in place. An inner voice whispered to him, “it might not be the wisest decision to follow the unknown voice. Turn around and run away instead of stepping into a possible ambush.”
But if he did, would he ever find out what his father was trying to tell him all those years ago?
“Oh Andrew... what have you become since we entered the town? You’re so lost in thoughts. If you don’t want to follow me, then please at least search for survivors in this area here.”
As glad as he would have been to be accompanied by his son, he went on and left him back with his thoughts.
The echo of the king’s wise words resounded in his mind.
“You haven’t gotten any better since... Will you keep running away from your fears?”
With a noticeable sigh, he closed his eyes and saw his father as if he stood right there in front of him, admonishing him, just as it happened so many times before when he was younger. Much time has passed and things have changed.
“You should really stop dreaming and concentrate on what you want, Drew,” he heard his teacher say. Old Gabriel was a wise man and a deft swordsman; he taught Andrew a lot of useful things.
“Believe in yourself... And remember; as long as there are still things that are worth fighting for, hope isn’t lost yet.”
For a moment he breathed deeply to bring himself down to earth and focused onto the street through which he noticed the king walk away.
“No, father... I don’t give in yet.” Bravely, he picked up his swords and proceeded, unsheathed them and crossed the street leading to the chapel yard. Along the walls at a small parting of ways, he turned left and hopped over a fence. Carefully he peeked around. There was no one present anymore. Now he heard a cracking noise coming from the meek little church. Surprisingly, he noticed someone coming out from the inside of the old, sacred refuge. The figure seemed to be hastily looking for something... or someone. It confirmed the fact that there must be someone other person amongst them.  
“Father,” Andrew asked doubtfully. As the man stepped out of the shadows the roof had made, he instantly recognized him by his long, bright hair and the elegant armor he was wearing.
The prince planted one sword in the ground to have a free hand to wave to the King who seemed to be far from cheerful. Suddenly his eyes stared into his direction and looked at him as if he was a dreadful phantom. He winced at his son as he lifted an arm to point into his direction, as if he was trying to show him something he could not see.
Perhaps...
A chilly breath ran down Andrew’s neck, petrifying him. He wouldn’t ever have noticed this guy following him.
Rapidly he dropped himself forward and turned around just as quickly to face the unknown. However, it was not what he was expecting to see as he stepped backwards, tripped over a brick and tumbled.
“What the hell,” he cursed aloud and stared up to the creature coming up from the dust and shadows, laughing at him hysterically.
He looked like a rogue... yet his shoulder guards were decorated with bones from animals, which were vertically crooked upwards. His complete armament seemed like a whole black void with crimson lines and patterns along it. On both sides of his hips he carried a simply forged sword with a similar design. On his back flapped a dark cloak, drenched in blood. His head was sheltered by a black hood and from inside the prince could feel two red eyes staring at him, piercing trough his heart and hungrily seeking for blood and affliction.
“Andrew!! Run away, damn it, run,” came a voice from the chapel.
As if one could almost see the evil grin through the covered face, the man focused his view to James and started to cast a dark spell at him. Andrew didn’t know much about magic but he noticed how purple flames ignited the palms of the strange figures hands. A fast movement was enough to unseal the darkness upon James and bring the lord to his knees. He fell over as if a violent blow had knocked him out and tossed his open mind into a deep unconsciousness.
“Father!” It clung across the yard, followed by silence.
“You... what did you do to him,” Andrew snarled at the warlock, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck. An abundantly clear glare of revenge in his eyes had taken away any fear from him for a moment that had plagued him until then. “And who the hell are you?!”
The so peaceful silence turned into a hideous laughter. “Don’t you worry about him. He’s not dead; just in a state in which he can’t interact in the current situation. You wouldn’t understand it anyways... hehe,” the man taunted.
Dark bolts of shadow magic coalesced in his hands again. He laid them on Andrew’s chest. A bright light flashed up shortly, followed by a heavy, static shock rushing through his body, throwing him back a few meters, where he broke down. Even though the pain was paralyzing, a sudden adrenaline rush helped him to pull himself together quickly and started coughing and gasping for air. Dust lay in the air; masking any sight.
“Damn,” Andrew whispered to himself. “This guy sure is a tough nut.”
Apace he felt around for his sword. “Fuck... I must have lost it by that hit.”
His pointy ears perceived a sound. Approaching steps became louder with every second passed.
“Extraordinary”, the man said in combination with a low opera clap. “The last one I planted a shadow shock on, didn’t get up that fast,” he giggled.
Like an angry hound, the prince growled at his opposite with a wrathful glare in the eyes.
“Heh... you’re just as ungainly as you were in the past.” That remark made him faithlessly think of what he was going into.
“That time, you fled in fear of the enemy... and simple left ‘him’ behind,” the man continued.
Yet he didn’t give up looking for the last part of the key to his lost memories, as it suddenly lay before him. The broken puzzle slowly put its pieces together and with every part, the answer came closer and closer until it was within his grasp. As he attempted to touch it, his heart started to rush and he fell on his knees in front of the man. Stuttering he brought up the following sentence:  “Who are you.... to know.... of all this?”
graphic here: [link]

Credits to Tianara for the grammar edit!

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Ampliflier's avatar
I LOVE IT!!*smiles*