undeadorcjerk
The Ulitimate TheHelper.net Lurker
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I might finish this into something.
Read after you're done reading my story.
Thanks for reading. Comments are appreciated.
I brought my sword down. Its blade cut cleanly through my enemy's flesh. My sword didn't make any noise as its tip hit the ground, but my enemy fell with a thud. I looked around carefully. I looked for any movement. I couldn't see any, so I dropped my sword and fell to my knees. Bodies were everywhere. At least this time they would stay dead. I looked around once more. I couldn't see my brother. I wondered for a moment if he cared that I wasn't near him anymore. Then it occurred to me that he is always trying to kill me. He wouldn't care if I was dead before this problem... no... before this epidemic was over.
The necromancers have always been a thorn in my side. Especially the ones under my brother's command. But every now and then a necromancer gets this thought in his head that he can take over the world. They usually fall with minimal effort. Usually within the day that the necromancer declares himself a god. But this one. It was different. Strong. I'm used to killing them on the first day and now I'm well into the second week.
I looked around once more. Still nothing. Barren, this land will take much time to regain its former glory. Even then, this scorched earth will never be the same. Not a single form of life in my view. Nothing but dead bodies, rocks, and the citadel. The citadel is huge, even from this distance. I'm still a good hour's run away from the citadel and it still disappears into the clouds.
I looked down at my sword. Its blade is black with a red stripe running down it. The hilt is wrapped in black cloth. The stripe was faintly glowing. My sword still had some power in it. The stripe glows when I put power into the blade. I don't think I've ever had to use this much power in one day. I took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. I became aware that I was breathing heavily. I had also become aware of the gash in my arm. The dead may be brainless, but they are fast.
I grasp the hilt of my sword and felt its remaining power pulsing in my hand. I slowly stood up. Every fiber of my being hurt. I had burn marks from my fire casting and there were minor nicks and cuts on my arms and legs. Top that off with a shield to the face and I felt horrible. I looked around once more. As sure as I am of my self, I was still paranoid. The dead had a very good reputation for appearing out of nowhere at the worst time possible. Seeing nothing, I assured myself it was safe to continue.
I raised my sword up a little and stuck it in the ground. I took a step back from it to give myself a bit of room. I clasp my hands together. I closed my eyes and muttered the spell's name. "Mass Heal." Fortunately I knew a healing spell. I felt the refreshing rush of energy and I lost all feelings of pain. Unfortunately it was the only healing spell I knew. As it was a good spell to have for me, seeing as I command an army, am always traveling with friends, and am pretty reckless myself. It has the one little problem of rendering me unable to move until it is finished. I counted slowly. One... Two... Three... So far so good. Five... Six... Seven... I start to lose all worries and thoughts. The spell is working excellently. Nine... Ten.
I opened my eyes to a white sword in my view. With out thinking I jumped backwards into a flip, kicking the blade, and summoning my own to my hands in a burst of fire. I brought my blade up to a defensive position before My feet touched the ground.
"Always so paranoid?" My brother was standing in front of me. He was still pointing his sword at my head.
"No, just always ready to kick your ass every time you try to kill me." I remarked. My brother lowered his sword. His sword is my sword's opposite. His is a white blade with a white hilt. His has a blue stripe running down its length. His also glows when he puts power into it, although he refuses to do that saying its the coward's way out of a "good" fight.
"Ha, as if you could truly kick my ass," he said as he turned around and started walking to the citadel. "Now hurry up or it will take us all day to reach the bastard responsible for this." I swung my sword in a circle and slid it into its sheath on my back. I don't know why I do that. The sword and sheath just disappear off my back when I don't want to carry it. I just easily summon it in a heartbeat if I ever need it. I look down at my watch. Five seventeen, not much left in the way of daylight. I started walking behind my brother, who has now gained a good distance ahead of me.
The only reason he is helping is because he wants to rule this planet himself, I keep reminding myself. If this was one of the other planets in this universe, he would have actually tried to stick me with his blade there earlier. I can trust him as about as far as I can throw him. I laugh to myself. I could actually throw him a good distance. I can trust him as about as far as I can throw him without magic. That's better.
"You know turtles walk faster then you do." He yells back. I respond with a quick kick to the ground which causes a rock to jut up and catch his foot as he takes a step. He trips over and almost lands on his face.
"You know 2 month olds walk better then you do." I say as I pass him.
"You better watch it."
"Or what?" I stop, turn around, and ask him.
"Or I'll..." That was all he had time to say before he turned around and cut one of the dead in half before it took another step. "Or I'll do that to you," he states.
"I don't think you have time now," I say as I summon my blade. I didn't even see that one coming. It crept up on my brother before I saw him. Looking behind him now with intent I see half an army walking towards us. I hear new noises now coming from behind me. I turn around and see the another half has been summoned and was marching towards us. I step back. "Time for some more fun."
"Yea, I'll remember that when I'm ruling this world over your dead body."
I put more power into my blade. Its red glow is now almost blinding if I were to look directly at it. The pulse in the hilt becomes quicker as the blade livens up to the new energy. I grasp it with both hands and hold it straight up. The dead quicken their pace and now seem to be running. I hear my brother let out a call and I feel the earth shake under me. Reckless as always, he charged their ranks. I focus entirely on the threat in front of me as I have no doubt that he can handle the one behind me.
"Specter Slash!" I yell and bring my sword into and arc downwards. The familiar green blast of my dragon's signature attack speeds out and collides with the enemy. A chunk of their ranks is decimated on initial contact of the slash and another chunk barely lives, so to speak, to fight some more. I rush towards the dead and come into contact with their line, but not before getting two more Specter Slashes off. I quickly jump over the first row. "Earth Quake," I shout as I come into contact with one of the dead's skull. I feel the Earth Dragon's energy rush through me and then into the earth as I make contact with it, crushing the dead one's skull under my feet. The earth around me ripples and shakes and every dead being near me topples in a circle. "Icicle Barrage," I yell. I feel the Water Dragon's energy fill my body. Icicles form in front of me in mid air and rush to the dead in front of me, impaling them with force enough to pierce their entire bodies.
Now I become aware of a great threat. Some of the dead are intelligent. Intelligent enough to cast at least. I know that none of them are physically close enough to me to attack me with a weapon, but I feel a sharp pain in my left shoulder. I look at it and see a dark spike sticking out of my shoulder. Its just a piece of metal with dark magic, I remind myself. I quickly pull it out and look in the direction it came from. To my surprise, its not just one of the dead. There is and entire group of dead with staffs just outside of the circle I made with the Earth Quake. Crap, I made myself an open target.
They began chanting. The metal left over from the dead warriors at my feet starts to levitate. The pieces slowly glow a dark purple, the unmistakable sign of dark magic. I bring my blade up as soon as the first pieces of metal start flying in my direction. I quickly parry each attack and counter every one possible with a little shocking Lightning Bolt. Most of the casters fall in a charred heap. But most isn't good enough. I have no choice, I have to confront them, and they know it.
I start to move in their direction when I sense... feel, I can't describe it, some of the dead behind me... close behind. I swing back and cut down a few. I jump over another and stand behind it. I feel it shudder violently and I hear a few thuds. The dead mages just killed one of their own. I let a smile cross my face, but only for an instant. I leap forward, making great arcs with my blade and hitting every dead in my range. I call upon all the Great Dragons- Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Lightning, Dark, and Light- and my personal dragon, Specter, for their powers. Being the Dragon Knight has its perks at times.
The dead once again fall back to the earth where they belong either by my blade, my magic, or by having the unfortunate chance to have me step behind them as the dead mages cast their dark magic. I can see the ground beyond the army in front of me now. I rush the row and break through easily, cutting down the row of dead in its entirety. I'm now back in the open. I let my inertia drag me along the ground and I come to a sliding stop with my back towards the citadel and me facing the dead army.
I take a quick glance at my blade. It is still glowing red. Good. The power does nothing but sharpen the blade and keep it from going dull. I reach back and then throw my blade forward. Non-Elemental based magic doesn't need a chant or incantation so I let the blade fly. It will cut down anything that gets in its way and come back to me soon. That leaves the dead to worry about dodging the blade and leaves me open to quickly cast a few more spells to get rid of the dead casters.
I think about my brother for some reason. I think about how he is doing. The thought of him leaves my head as quickly as it came. But with it's passing, it leaves an idea. My brother is a dragon. My brother is the incarnation of the Destruction Dragon. I quickly tap his spells. They are quick, wild, and usually mean a quick end to anything the spell comes into contact with.
I channel his powers through me. "Destructive Spikes!" I yell as I swing my arm in an underhanded swing. Small spikes of a dark brown jut up from the ground and recede as quickly as they appeared. As the spell travels farther towards the target, the spikes get bigger. Soon they reach the height of a small house, impaling all the dead that have the misfortune of being above the spell's path. They are just side targets. My intended targets are those dead mages. And thankfully the spell stays on track. The dead mages are impaled and tossed aside as the spell finished in an explosive blast.
The dead that are running towards me from my left are cut in half by my returning sword. I catch it and lower it. Starring at the gaping hole that splits my half of the dead army in two, left there by the Destructive Spikes, I can see my brother's side of the dead army. Its in just as bad of shape as my half is. I can see him wildly swinging and taking out chunks of dead by his sword alone.
I come back to my half of the battle and the remaining dead are in a panic. They may be stupid, but at least some of them know when to run. They run away from the army. I'll let them go, their life force will disapate when I finish off that damned necromancer. I think about turning and running to the citadel, face the necromancer alone. I'm on this side of the little army, it would just require me to run. I start to turn and I sadly remember that I need my brother's help with this one, and he wont go on until this little group here has ceased living again.
The braver of the dead march slowly towards me. They raise their swords and shout gibberish. I know how to speak dead, seeing as I've touched in on necromancery myself, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. I concentrate now. I decide to finish the remainders quickly. "Specter Whip," I utter. My sword glows green. I run towards the dead. I swing my sword, and like the Specter Slash, the green leaves my sword and travels towards the dead. But unlike the Specter Slash, the green also stays attached to my sword, like a long whip. The whip cuts cleanly through the dead lines taking out an entire arc. I keep running forward and I keep swinging. I mow the dead down like they were grass. All of the dead are now either truely dead or are panicking and running for their dead lives.
My brother lands in front of me in a crouch. He stays that way for a second. I look at his half of the dead army and they are just standing there. He slowly stands up and continues to look down. He slowly raises his hand until it is level with his head. He holds it there for a few seconds and then snaps. The rest of the dead on his side combust. He lowers his hand and smiles.
"Show off," I said. He doesn't respond. He just walks past me and towards the citadel. Take a quick glance at my watch again. Five twenty-seven. Hmm... we made some good time with that. I turn around and fall inline behind my brother, once again, sheathing my sword.
Read after you're done reading my story.
Ignore all thoughts in your head that a person that wields a sword can not wield magic. If you think the story is bad because of that reason then you have succeeded in becoming one of those mindless prey of story writers who have taught you lies. A story is a universe of its own and none of your thoughts of how something should work apply to it.
Thanks for reading. Comments are appreciated.
