http://altimascomics.inventforum.com

[Flashlight Antics]

Another one I did in my other forums. I like it and it helped me become a better comic writer so here it is for you guys to enjoy.

Critique would help if you read it and (since I know just about everyone in here right now) I wouldn't care what KIND of critique. Just make sure it is something that will make the viewing experience better!!!

Oh, and a word to the wise...this is a LONG fanfic. It is a little longer then Fierce Deity (one that I prided myself on when it came out for being LONGER then usual) and does have a surmountable prolog.

Well, thats enough out of me...here is one of my favorite creations, "The Chronicles of Levvia: The Demon Within".




Prelude:
The fires of creation left behind many ashes to sift through. At the beginning of time, the explosion of matter that created the universe spread forth the necessary ingredients for life in all directions. Only a select few worlds were blessed with the ideal conditions for intelligent life, however. Despite the scarce numbers, Earth was not the only world of humans.

Another world similar to Earth was born from the molten crust. This world evolved much faster then Earth did and before Earth had sprouted its first ocean creatures, the human race of the new world had already begun to evolve. Though the humans on this new world were slower to develop then the humans of Earth, they did have a much more spiritual link to their world. To them, the world they lived upon gave more then just a solid ground to walk on.

The world that they lived on was given a name before Earth had even conceived its first humans. The world was known by the people as Levvia. Despite the almost perfect comparisons between Earth and Levvia, Levvia has one major difference. The world of Levvia has a living soul. Before the humans of Levvia were conceived, the race known as the Kozsmer were born. The Kozsmer were similar to the humans later born except they had a life span much longer. They also had long, pointy ears and dark, almost inky, skin.

Through the soul of Levvia, the Kozsmer found that they could channel Levvia’s life force trough a method they called twisting. Twisting was a method of channeling the force known as Spirit Tendrils. The Spirit Tendrils were the physical manifestation of the life force of Levvia. Through twisting, the Kozsmer lived in comfort. Not until the humans came did the world of Levvia know war.

With the birth of the less adept humans, war and strife came. Humans did not know the art of twisting and thought of the idea of channeling their own power through the life force of Levvia was absurd. Adopting a new method of channeling, the humans crafted gauntlets of power that granted their wielder the ability to twist without a spiritual connection to the Spirit Tendrils. The humans called these contraptions “spirit benders”.

With the forging of the first “spirit benders”, a new kind of twister was born. The human “benders”, who were adept at the use of “spirit benders”, were known as wizards. They were renowned and loved by the humans but feared ant hated by the Kozsmer twisters. Though they were as adept at the use of the Spirit Tendrils as the Kozsmer twisters, wizards were in scarce numbers. Do to the short supply of “spirit benders”, wizards were, in contrast, in short supply.

Once the humans established themselves as powerful combatants and brilliant politicians, they had already begun to grow in populations and kingdoms. Forging nine great kingdoms, and thus nine great kings, the humans soon began to war amongst themselves. Vouching for power and pushing back and fourth for centuries, none of the nine great kingdoms ever fell to one of the others. Many lesser kingdoms fell to the great kings and eventually the land was split into ten territories, the tenth of which was controlled by the now ancient race of Kozsmer.

As the humans wars raged and the Kozsmer’s need to gain knowledge grew, a new type of creature was being born. From the hate and malice that the humans showed so much, the Spirit Tendrils began to forge a way to release the pressure of ignorance and hate. It manifested in the form of beings of pure spite and malevolence, they soon became to be known as the Mau-Tir.

The Mau-Tir are similar in shape to the humans and Kozsmer but the shape is all they shared. Twisted beings of darkness, they have pure black skin covered in a fine black fur. Sprouting from their temples are horns that range in size and shape. Their hair is long and usually red but few have a deep blue or purple color. They have long, ape-like arms, their fingers tipped with sharp claws. Their frames placed upon long, muscular legs, they are particularly distinguished by their bright red eyes.

The Mau-Tir learned to use the darker side of twisting that tapped not only into the Spirit Tendrils of Levvia but also the spirit essence of other living creatures. Through this “necromancy” many powerful Mau-Tir were conceived. The most powerful of them was known as Maul Darik, a Mau-Tir so powerful his very presence was enough to drive a sane man out of his mind.

Leading an army of Mau-Tir, Maul Darik laid waist to all that stood in his way. It was not until a human monk stood in his way did Maul Darik fall. Using twisting previously unconceivable to both human and Kozsmer, the monk destroyed the army and sealed Maul Darik’s soul to his own. Since that time, the monk’s teachings have been followed by many and the new art of light twisting was born.

Two hundred years have passed since the death of Maul Darik and the creation of light twisting. The nine kingdoms still stand and the Kozsmer have learned much about the way of things. Still, the threat of the Mau-Tir was never truly gone. Only a scarce amount of the beasts remained and the cease of war between the humans halted the further creation of any more. Times were good but tensions between nations grew by the day. Adventurers became abundant and bardic tails of old times became more popular. Travelers seeking renown and riches ran abundant and the kingdoms in need of them soon began taking advantage of them.

Now, the times of turmoil seem to be reappearing and with them they bring promise of destruction and toil throughout the land. With no sign of slowing, the wars of new approach and seem to know no biasness, bringing even the peaceful Kozsmer with them. And still the threat of Maul Darik that once stood over Levvia seems ever more prevalent then it ever has before. People fear the dark lord has returned and talk of his return spreads from pub to throne. With no sign of peace in sight, a new story of Levvia unfolds. [/size]



Chapter One: A Silent Village;
[size=11]It was summer in the peaceful town of Zeppsy. It wasn’t a very large town and everyone in the village knew each other. Comprised mostly of farmers and craftsmen, Zeppsy did not feel the touch of the fourth kingdom of Pillith. Travelers did not usually stop at Zeppsy, just passed through. Living at the edge of the village was the Pivval family.

The Pivvals were pleasant people and grew the local corn. The father, Zaul Pivval, was a prideful man that was known by all in the village as the most thoughtful and large hearted man in the whole of Pillith Province. The mother, Mandy Pivval, was a peaceful woman of almost serine beauty. She was a skilled nurse and knew much about herbal remedies and cared for many in the village. The son was named Malik Pivval.

Malik was a bright young man and often dreamed of being an adventurer and seeing the world. He was usually causing trouble in school and enjoyed the occasional prank. Though he was rambunctious and energetic, he was a smart child. One of the smartest in the village, his father often gave thought to sending the boy to Pillith City to become a scholar. Not worried about the future, however, the boy’s mind was on the festival later that night.

It was time for the yearly summer festival in Zeppsy and Malik had always looked forward to it. He usually played a prank on his school teacher and was pretty good at getting away with it at this point. His friends looking forward to what might be held in store for their teacher, they could not wait to see what Malik was going to pull. Running into town, Malik ran into the local trader.

“Hello, Malik,” the trader said as Malik came running in. with an eager look on his face, Malik looked on in anticipation.

“What have you got for me this year, Jed?” Malik asked the trader.

“Well, I have some sticky glue…adheres to ANYTHING!” Jed said, exaggerating the last word. Malik just shrugged.

“What else?”

“A chair with a false bottom?”

“No, I think I did that one year,”

“Alright, how about an anvil made of foam…you could drop it on him and laugh it up as his reaction is greater then his pain,” Jed was digging deep now.

“Nah…none of it sounds good this year,” Malik responded. Jed thought about it and then held up his finger as if something just struck him.

“I do have this,” Jed said as he grabbed a dusty box. Malik’s eyes lit up.

“What is it?”

“This is a secret recipe of mine. I had it made after finding out about some of the herbs around here from your mother,”

“What’s it do?”

“It is a vial of itching powder!” Jed said. Frowning, Malik slumped in his shoes.

“That’s it!? That’s the best you got?” Malik said in disappointment.

“Oh, but it is. This stuff is much more then just itching powder. It is the mother of all itching powers. An itch so bad he won’t stop scratching himself until next week. Truly a prank to be enjoyed over a period of a few days,” Jed said in a very selling voice. Malik swiftly came to after hearing all of that. Quickly pulling out his money pouch, he handed the necessary funds needed to purchase the fine item of Malik’s desire.

“Can’t wait to see the poor man in action,” Jed said. Malik never told anyone where he got the prank items and all for the better. Jed quivered over the thought of Herm finding out that he was the one supplying Malik with the ammunition to the musket. Shrugging it out, Jed counted the pence and smiled at the thought of seeing poor Herm scratching himself madly.

Running back to his house, Malik was ready for the festival right now. Without any hesitation, Malik ran into his house, past his father and mother, and straight to his room to plan the big night out. Unsure what to make of the boy’s excitement, Malik’s parents just continued doing what they were doing.

Later that day, one of Malik’s friends from school came knocking. Answering the door, Mandy let the young boy in and directed him to Malik’s room. Knocking on that door next, Malik told the intruder to enter.

“Hay, Malik! Have you got the prank set up?” the boy asked his long time friend.

“Oh, hay Lin. Yeah, I just got done with the plans. Its fool proof,” Malik was giddy with excitement. Unable to contain himself until the festival, he turned to Lin to see if he wished to go out on a little hike. Agreeing, the two boys turned around and began a brisk hike.

Hiking deep into the woods of Hesk, the two boys pushed each other playfully and play fought. Running to and fro, they enjoyed themselves for hours. After a long afternoon, the two boys began to hike deeper into Hesk. Coming upon a clearing in the forest, the two boys stopped in their tracks. Seeing a group of adventurers, they were stunned to see seven men that seemed to be equipped for war. Malik, the more courageous of the two, skulked forward making sure not to be seen by the men.

The seven men wore the same garb in different ways. One wore a robe of red and black, a symbol of a skull with two horns on the side plastered on his chest. His hair was a deep blue that was almost black. He carried a book with strange symbols on it and a walking staff that seemed to be made of steel. Another wore a black bardic shirt with red accents and a black pair of pants. His hair was the only light colored hair of the men being a sandy blond color. He carried a lute on his back and was currently prodding the ground with a rapier.

A third man wore black and red studded leather with a cloak baring the same symbol as the robed man. His hair was hard to see under the cloak’s hood, but Malik thought he saw a glint of brown. His weapon was hard to distinguish do to the fact that it was hidden under his cloak. The fourth and fifth men looked almost identical but in a mirror image of one-an-other. They were in a garb of scant metal armor with a single shoulder spike placed on opposite shoulders. They both had a scare over one of their eye, the scare placed on the opposite side of the shoulder pad. Their hair was dark brown and they both had a sword that seemed to be unwieldy unless held in two hands.

The sixth man was dressed in a robe similar to the first man’s, but it had flared shoulders and lacked sleeves. He was bald but had strange tattoos from the front of his brow leading to the back of his neck. The tattoos seemed to continue all over his body as he had the same markings on both arms. Looking him over more closely, Malik saw no sign that the man used a weapon, though he did notice that the man wore a strange pair of gauntlets.

The final man was the most fearsome of the group. Standing at about seven feet tall, he wore a night black suit of plated armor that seemed to have no break in it. The only chinks in the armor that Malik saw were very small ones around the joints. Hanging loosely from the man’s back was a huge axe that seemed to weigh more then Malik. The man had a strange helmet that resembled a skull with no lower jaw and had four horns, two going straight back and curving slightly at the end and two more on the sides that seemed to line up perfectly with the temple of his head. Stranger still was the fact that the two horns on the side were a more natural black and didn’t seem to have the sheen that metal did.

Malik suddenly go the feeling that the men in that camp site did not mean good fortune to anyone that crossed their path. Looking at how they held themselves, the boy could tell that they were resting for or from something. Unsure of exactly what to make of them, Malik tried his hardest to stay low and try to listen to what the seven men had to say.

“This is ridiculous, Morris. We have been sitting her for two days and nothing to show for it!” the robed man with the book stated in an agitated tone. It seemed as if he spoke to the bald man in the sleeveless robes. Folding his arms and nodding, Morris turned to the armored figure.

“I agree, Yatto. We need not wait another day. The town has a powerful wizard that would prove a full out attack useless. He is skilled at defensive bending and would stop all of in our tracks before we have any chance to destroy him,” Morris stated, pacing around the camp site. Looking up, the cloaked figure nodded readily.

“I will take care of him, Morris. He is useless without his ‘spirit benders’. The festival will prove a rather fine distraction,” the cloaked figure said in a rather smooth and soft voice. Lifting his sword, the blond man smiled to himself.

“What’s a party without a little music? I can go there today and offer my talents to the village elder. It might be a good way to find out where they hide the town gold,” the blond man said, sheathing his blade and pulling out his lute to tune it.

“Good. Then Xander will disarm the wizard while Tobin will prove a greater distraction. What of you two, Realm and Rhyme?” Morris asked, turning to the two twins.

“We get clean up. Any stragglers you and the big guy can’t catch we can take care of,” the one on the left stated. The one on the right nodded and smiled.

“Very well. All is ready, Vresh. We move upon your command,” Morris said, turning to the man in the suit of armor.

“When night falls and the festival is in its throws, we will begin with the attack. That wizard has something I want and I intend to take it back!” Vresh stated in a deep, raspy tone. Malik wasn’t fully sure, but to him it sounded like they were speaking of Zeppsy. Turning around, Malik tried his hardest to sneak back to his friend that seemed out of ear shot of the camp ground. Making it to a point Malik thought he could begin a slight jog, he was surprised to see that his friend was missing.

Looking franticly for his missing companion, Malik saw no trace of the boy that had traveled there with him. Deciding then to retreat from the aria as fast as possible, Malik ran toward the town at full pace. Tripping on branches and scraping his arms on bushes, Malik made for his home with no regard to his own physical health, after all, better wounded then dead.

Rushing into his home with the look of death on his face, his mother stopped him in his tracks. Looking the boy over and making sure he had no major wounds, she asked what was troubling him. Looking at his mother with eyes almost filling with tears, he explained exactly what happened.

“I couldn’t get back in time, mother…I couldn’t get back to tell Lin that they were going to kill everyone in town!” Malik pleaded after telling the best rendition of the meeting he had witnessed just minuets ago. Smiling at her son, Mandy just hugged Malik.

“Dear boy…Lin is home with his mother and father. He came by here saying that you two were playing a game and he got tired of waiting for you to find him,” Mandy stated very matter-of-factly. Malik’s eyes lit up with surprise. Why would Lin say that?! Malik thought.

Certain that his mother would not tell his father, Malik rushed off with vigor toward his father’s work shed. Knowing that he wasn’t aloud in, Malik stood outside and knocked on the door franticly. Answering with a distraught face, Zaul looked down at his distressed son. Asking what was wrong, Malik told the same story he had just told his mother.

“Come now, Malik…what have I told you about making up stories? Now run along, I am very busy!” Zaul said as he closed the door. Malik watched him close it and managed a whimpering ‘But…’ before the door had fully closed. Standing in place for a few extra moments, Malik thought about what to do next. Turning around he began toward Lin’s house.

Reaching Lin’s house, Malik knocked on the door and awaited the answer. Coming to the door, Lin opened it up to see Malik standing there. Behind Lin was his mother washing out a few cups and bowls. Malik stared at Lin with a piercing gaze. Shuddering a bit before questioning his friend’s sudden appearance, Lin looked back at Malik and asked why he had come back looking for him.

“Why?! You traitor! Those bandits mean business and we need to tell someone about them!” Malik yelled at his friend. Looking over in half interest, Lin’s mother leant an ear to the situation. Noticing, Lin cocked his head.

“What do you mean, Malik? That was just a game. Stop taking it so seriously,” Lin said with a serious tone. Malik seemed puzzled. Why would Lin just let Malik take care of the whole thing? Wasn’t Lin there, didn’t he hear what the bandits intended on doing? Scowling at his friend and stomping off, Malik had to tell someone.

It was sun down by the time Malik realized that no one in town believed him. He was known for causing mischief and for telling fibs. It was the black side of Malik’s love for pranks. The only one that was there was afraid to get in trouble for telling someone that he had gone that far into the forest. Lin wasn’t about to get in trouble, even if he did hear what the bandits were saying.

By the time night fell, Malik had abandoned the idea of pranking his teacher. Now he was dedicated to defending himself and those in the town. He made a make-shift sword out of wood and picked up the wooden shield that his father had made him for his birthday. Knowing that he would do nothing to the armored one, he hoped that the only ones that actually caused him trouble were to be the unarmored ones. Heading out to the festival that was set to start at any moment, Malik saw his father in an outfit that he never saw before. The most noticeable piece of his clothing was his gauntlets. Studded in jewels and a large crystal set in the palms, Malik looked perplexed at his father’s new look. Noticing Malik, Zaul called him over.

“Malik, I’m sorry I did not listen to you before,” Zaul said. Malik seemed even more confused. “Earlyer today while you were in your room, a strange man dressed in black and red came to town. He looked exactly like one of the men you described and he did exactly like you said he would. Now I am going to stop those men from getting to us.”

“But how do you intend on doing that, father?” Malik asked, almost pleading to the man. Zaul just raised one of his hands.

“With this, son. This is a ‘spirit bender’. It helps me do twisting! I intend to cast a barrier around the town and then drive the bandits off from within. They won’t know what hit them,” Zaul said. Suddenly, a scream was heard outside. Running to see what the scream was intended for, Malik and his father looked on to see one of the bandits.

“My boy!” Lin’s mother screamed. The fully armored bandit that the others called Vresh had Lin in his outstretched hand, dangling the boy almost eight feet off the ground. In his other hand was a huge sword that had a wavy, almost spiky, blade to it. Turning his head and looking at Zaul and Malik, the man peered into Malik’s very soul. The stare stunned Malik with fear and he dropped the two items he once clenched in his hands. Without looking back at the boy he held, Vresh flicked his wrist breaking the neck of the boy he held. Screaming in horror, the boy’s mother fell to the ground in grief.

“You bastard! You think that just because you are stronger then us you can push us around?! I don’t think so!!!” Zaul shouted at the man in armor. Zaul began to wave his hands around as if he was gathering something from the air. As he did so, the air he seemed to gather began to change into a deep red color. Finally gathering the energy around him in a single ball, he released it toward Vresh. The ball that screamed toward the plated man trailed with the fire and cinders.

Without emotion or swift movement, the armored man dropped the corps he held. Just staring at the ball of fire moving toward him, he lifted his sword and slashed the ball into oblivion. Only his sword arm moving, Vresh lowered it and lifted his other, gathering the air the very same way as Zaul. The air that he gathered, however, began to turn a deep purple that bordered on black. The whole time, Vresh kept his eyes fixated on Zaul. Never waning, never blinking, he stared with a gaze that seemed to pierce his heart.

Gathering the darkness that he created, Vresh clenched his hand into a semi-fist. Holding the blackness for a few moments, he threw it behind him at a gathered group of villagers that had come out to see what the commotion was about. Striking in the center, every person cringed from the blast and fell to the ground as nothing more then a skeleton. Instantaneously, the skin and flesh disintegrated from their bones. Zaul scowled at the mockery his enemy made. He began to gather more of the energized air around him. Before he could finish, he was hit with a single ball of energy from the darkness. Malik looked where the ball came from and saw the missing six members of the bandit group.

“You will not hide it from me any more, Zaul. I have spent a great deal of time searching for it and I will have it!” Vresh said, fully turning to Zaul and walking slowly toward him. Zaul just lifted his arms again and tried gathering the air once more. Before getting very far in his task, he was hit with another ball of energy. Looking out at her husband, Mandy came rushing out to help him. However, before she could get to him, she was intercepted by the cloaked man. Yelling out, Zaul tried running over to her only to be grabbed by Vresh. Lifting him up, Vresh looked deeply into his eyes.

“Stop playing games with me, Zaul. WHERE IS THE PENDANT?!!?” Vresh shouted. By that time, the whole town had begun to gather around the aria. Turning to look at the group and then to look at his wife, Zaul gasped for air.

“Sir, this little swine has it!” Morris informed Vresh, motioning to the girl that Xander held captive. Smiling malevolently, he looked over at the woman.

“Kill her…bring me the pendant!” Vresh said. Carrying out the order immediately, Xander slit her throat as Zaul let out a cry of sorrow. After looking away from the lifeless body of his wife, Zaul then looked at Malik.

“Malik…RUN!!!” Zaul yelled to the paralyzed boy. Malik just stood there and shook his head.

“I won’t leave you father!” were the only words Malik could manage. Smiling behind his helmet, Vresh turned his attention to the boy. Looking at him, Vresh dropped his captive almost as if he was afraid of what he saw on the boy. Glowing on his forehead was the symbol of a red eye that seemed to bleed centered on the palm of a clawed hand. Vresh turned from anxious to livid as he stared at the marking on the boy’s visage.

“Zaul, you coward, No wonder you stole it from me. This boy has the spirit of the demon sovereign in him. No matter, I will break the bonds you strew upon him,” Vresh said. In saying this, he turned to Malik and removed his helmet revealing a visage that would strike fear into the heart of a man, let alone a boy.

“NO! VRESH!!! SPARE THIS TOWN THE SUFFERING!!!” Zaul shouted. This comment unsettled the villagers and most began to leave the place. Many, however, stayed. Looking at the boy, Vresh smiled with a toothy grin.

“Do you know what I am, boy?”

“You’re a Mau-Tir,”

“Yes, you are right. My name is Vresh. In the future you will seek me out to destroy me. I expect you to be strong by the time you meet me next, son of Zaul…for you will need to be,” Vresh stated. He then began twisting the air around him into a red shield-shaped energy.

As Vresh clenched his fist, the figure broke into a thousand pieces and bombarded Malik. Shattering some sort of invisible barrier around Malik, the shards then shoved their way into his skin. Causing no bodily harm to the boy, the only thing that happened was a stunning and numbing feeling shooting trough Malik’s body. He whipped back as if in great pain and began to change before Zaul’s eyes. The son he once knew was now a foot taller with a feral look in his now red eyes. He had grown a crude pair of horns and had whiskers that seemed to be tattooed on. Growing claws and fangs, the boy looked over at the humans that stood before him. Smiling, he charged the first target that presented itself…Zaul.

Walking away to leave the creature to his own devices, Vresh walked pass the other six and put his helmet back on. Grabbing the pendant from Morris’ hand, Vresh kept moving. Not arguing with his intent to leave, the other six followed. Wailing in the background were the screams of horror from the terrified villagers. The last scream they heard before they were out of ear shot was the feral howl of the boy.




I also want to say that the story does not follow the Seven Bandits…it follows Malik…just wait until I post the second chapter to see how!
_________________
Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I know of no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot…
My DD site...READ MY COMICS!

[Altimas]

Flash...PLEASE use bigger font

Treasuros.com - Find a treasure and win an ipod!

[Flashlight Antics]

U sure...It'll be longer...oh well, I'll give it a shot.
_________________
Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I know of no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot…
My DD site...READ MY COMICS!

[Altimas]

Flantics, this is my forum, longer isn't a problem...*teehee*

Oh shut up Altia! *He's just mad because he just realized he made a sex joke...a GAY one*


if you weren't just a voice in my head, I'd kill you

*No you wouldn't*

Treasuros.com - Find a treasure and win an ipod!

[Flashlight Antics]

You have that problem too, hu?

Treasuros.com - Find a treasure and win an ipod!
_________________
Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I know of no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot…
My DD site...READ MY COMICS!

[Altimas]

Sadly yes...

[Flashlight Antics]

Don't forget to let me know what you guys think...I can't get better if I don't have an outside opinion.



Chapter Two: A Sinners Mind;
Malik awoke with a scream. He was sweating intensely and grasped for air. Thinking back to the nightmare that awoke him in such a manor, he saw the look of terror on his fathers face before his death. This was not the first time that Malik has had this nightmare and he knew that it would not be the last.

It had been ten years since the destruction of the small town once called Zeppsy. Now the town was nothing more then a graveyard. Malik knew that he had had something to do with the destruction of the town but he had very little memory of the incident itself. Recalling only bits and pieces of the event during rogue dreams, Malik was lost in the blackness of his past.

After the Malik awoke on the following day after the devastation wrought upon his home village, he found himself next to his father’s mutilated corpse. It traumatized the boy to the point that he threw up all over himself. He ran from the devastation that was caused and was later found by a group of traveling bards. The bards took him in as their own and raised him as an adventurer. Discovering that he had an unusual talent for fighting, Malik then trained to become a swordsman.

Somewhere in his journeys, Malik found himself in the Pillith town of Reshard. Reshard was a busy coastal town that was known for its brash sea fairing adventurers and its local pubs. Many adventurers chose Rashard as their base of operations and used it as a halfway point for any across sea travel they may be going on. Malik used it as an inn, caring nothing for the sea. The inn prices here were unbelievably cheap and Malik usually went out of his way to travel the extra distance for them.

Standing from his groggy state that the nightmare left him in, Malik walked over to put on his shirt. Sitting down on a chair and putting his face in his open hands, Malik thought about what he was going to do with the rest of his life. The only thing that crossed his mind lately was the name that plagued him as a child, Vresh. That name kept popping into his head and all he could do to stop about thinking about it was to meditate or train. In a case such as now, however, Malik could do noting but try to sleep. Laying down once more, Malik tried his hardest to sleep.

Waking the next morning, Malik put on his shirt once more. He did not get too much sleep after the nightmare but it was enough to steal away any fatigue he may have had. Putting on his chain shirt and then his leather armor, Malik began to suit up for another day of adventuring. Malik was a lot older now and stood about six feet tall. His hair was still wild like in his childhood but it was longer now and he had made time to grow a small beard, making time to keep it well groomed. He wore a standard suit of scaled leather armor that was unique to the adventurers of Pillith. Finally, he adorned a leather rope necklace that once belonged to his mother. It once had a pendant on it, but when Malik found the necklace on the ground next to his deceased mother it was gone.

Malik’s weapons of choice were each unique in their own rights. The primary weapon that Malik wore on his back was a double blade. Each sword head of the double blade was in the shape of a Pillithian sword called an O-Nori. The O-Nori was a sword that was thinner then a long sword and had a longer blade. It curved very slightly and resembled the Earthen sword called a katana. Another feature about it was that it separated in the center of the handle to form two standard O-Nori blades. His other two blades he adorned on either side of his waist. They both seemed like normal O-Nori blades and, as far as Malik wanted people to know, that’s what they were.

Strapping each blade to its proper position, Malik packed what little gear he carried in his backpack and walked down stairs to the pub that the inn was attached to. Many adventurers were in the pub at the time and Malik looked around for any paying customers that might be in need of his agility. None seemed to be present so Malik took a seat at one of the tables next to the door. Pressing the bar maid to bring him a drink, Malik awaited any action that might present itself in this never silent town.

Looking around at the many adventurers that Malik shared a profession with, he thought about his reputation. Malik wasn’t the most reputable man in the business. The jobs he had taken in his past have always been high pay/high risk jobs. They had their rewards but in return Malik had received a reputation that preceded him. As Malik listened to a conversation at the table across from his, he overheard a man say that they only needed one more man to help with their caravan. Knowing that caravan escort jobs usually paid well, Malik offered his hand.

“Excuse me, sir…but I think I can help you with that,” Malik stated. Turning their heads, the two men turned around to look at Malik. Glancing at him once and paying particular attention to Malik’s unique weapon, he asked Malik a few questions.

“What’s your name?”

“Malik, sir. Malik Pivval,”

“Malik? Hmmm…Malik…” the man paused and thought about the name.

Staring in disbelief, the man’s partner blurted “Malik the Mad?!” Malik sighed and nodded.

“That’s what some call me. But I assure you that those rumors are,” Malik was interrupted by the first man.

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t think we need the extra hand. Come on, Jim,” the first man motioned to his partner to leave. Not hesitating to follow his friend’s advice, the second man stood and followed closely. Malik just watched the two men leave and sighed in disapproval. At this rate, Malik’s reputation would lose him more jobs then it would gain.

Overhearing the conversation that just transpired, a cloaked man walked over to Malik’s table and took a seat. Folding his fingers together and placing his elbows on the table top, the man look out of his cloak at Malik. Malik just squinted one eye queerly and lifted his mug to take a sip of his ale.

“Can I help you?” Malik queried when the man said nothing to Malik. The man just nodded and pulled out a pouch of gold. Setting it on the table, he pulled out a drawing depicting a man with a scar across his face. Malik lifted the picture and eyed it over.

“I am willing to give you every piece of gold in this pouch to exterminate that man,” the cloaked figure said in a raspy voice. Malik looked back at his alleged client and squinted his eye again.

“So, you want me to kill this man, do you?” Malik said in his normal volume voice. The cloaked man lifted his finger to his mouth as if to shush Malik.

“I want you to make him non-existent…I do not care how,”

“And if I do this then I get all the coin in that pouch?”

“Yes…all of it,”

“How much is in there?”

“About five hundred, but I didn’t count. Will you do it or not?” the man was starting to get irritated. Malik just eyed the picture once more and nodded to himself.

“Give me half now and half once I kill the guy. That way I know you aren’t trying to pull me into a trap of some sort,” Malik had learned well the way of negotiation. After all, he learned it from bards.

“Fine, take it. But I warn you now, Mr. Pivval, your assailant is a very skilled swordsman. He will not be an easy opponent,” the cloaked figure said as he poured out roughly half of the pouches contents. Malik scooped the money into his own overflowing bag and tossed that bag into his backpack. Shrugging once he set his pack down, Malik pulled out his double O-Nori and a whetstone.

“I too am a skilled swordsman, sir. But I think you have confidence in me to hire me of all people to take on this task. If that is the case then I suggest to you that you do not doubt my skills again,” Malik said with a stern and even voice. “It’s bad business, after all, to debate the skills of a person you just hired.”

“I agree, Sir Malik, but I still caution you to this man’s skills. Be weary of him for he is not all he seems,”

“Neither am I,” Malik said, turning his head to look at the cloaked man. Nodding in approval, the cloaked figure stood up and walked back to the seat he was formerly in. Giving the warning little thought, Malik just finished up sharpening his blades and walked over to the bar tender, of which, Malik was good friends.

“Hay, Trent. I have a question about someone you may have seen,” Malik said.

“Oh, alright, Malik…what you got for me?”

“A swordsman. He might have come here or he might not have. All I know is that he has a huge scar across his face,”

“Yeah, I think I saw that guy here the other day. He was sharpening a nasty looking O-Nori. Ugly thing, that…uglier then yours!” Trent stated. Malik just smirked.

“Well, I’ll be the judge of that. Where did he say he was headed?”

“Not sure. He didn’t say. All I heard was something about the western mountains. Said that he had some business to take care of there,” Malik smiled and turned around. He flipped a coin to Trent, “Thanks, Trent,” Malik stated.

Stepping out of the door, Malik got a feeling of sudden adrenalin. He turned to his right just in time to see a dagger come flying toward his head. He dodged it nimbly and looked for his assailant. Much to Malik’s surprise, the attacker was a woman. The woman stood tall, about the size of Malik, and held a dagger in her off-hand. Staring at Malik with judgment, she drew another dagger.

“Draw your weapon, demon! You die today!” the woman stated. Malik drew his double O-Nori from their easy access scabbards.

“What did I do to deserve such royal treatment, madam?” Malik asked. The woman threw another dagger which was deflected by one of the O-Nori’s edges.

“You killed my parents! Now you have to die!” she screamed. Malik just took a defensives stance and began dodging and deflecting any daggers that came his way.

“I’ve killed a lot of people, darling. I have left so many corpses in my wake that I do not recall your parents description…could you describe them to me?” Malik said in a calm, cooling voice. The girl just put her hood down and reviled that she was rather beautiful with long blond hair. Malik seemed a bit surprised.

“You killed them one year ago today on our farm lands. When my father refused you bedding you cut his throat. And then, when my mother tried to stop you from leaving you killed her too. Now you have to die!” she screamed. Malik thought back and didn’t recall anything like that happening.

“Miss, I am sorry for your loss, but as hard as this is to explain, that wasn’t technically me that did that!” Malik said, dodging another dagger.

“YOU DIDN’T SEEM VERY SORRY WHEN YOU WERE DOING IT!” the woman said, throwing six daggers at the same time. Unfortunately, those were her last six and she missed with ever one of them. pulling out a short sword, she charged Malik. Many knew that that was a great mistake.

Swinging at Malik, Malik parried the first blow with ease and followed it up with a push from the center of his double weapon. Jumping back afterward, Malik pleaded once more to the girl.

“Please, stop this foolishness. I am sorry for your tragic loss but there is no reason that you should throw your life so eagerly at the closest blade,” Malik claimed. The woman sneered and mounted another charge. This time, Malik was not so gentle. Swinging across instead of down, this time, the girl was met with a counter strike. Malik parried the blow and brought his double sword behind the girl, hitting her with a great deal of force with the broad side of the O-Nori. Falling to the ground in pain, the girl began to cry.

“I apologize for not dieing and for killing your parents…but I too have a mission that needs completing,” Malik said. The woman picked herself up and looked at Malik with a scowl. Malik recoiled slightly but allowed the girl to pick up her daggers. Turning away as she did so, Malik began his journey toward the western mountains of Kauld.

It was a few paces out of town before Malik noticed that he was being followed. Turning to see who it was, he was yet again surprised to see the girl that had attacked him. Sighing hardly to himself, Malik grabbed the hilt of one of his O-Nori.

“May I ask why you are following me, miss?” Malik pressed, sounding rather distraught.

“I already told you, you have to die and it will be me, not some rotten bandit, that’s going to be the one to take your life!” the young woman said. Malik rolled his eyes.

“And I thought I cleared up the fact that I didn’t technically do what you claim I did,” Malik stated.

“No, you’re wrong. I saw you do it! You look a little different now, but I am certain that you are the one,” the girl stated. Malik slumped in his shoes.

“And if I looked different then, how do you know I am who you claim me to be?” Malik said once more.

“You ARE Malik the Mad, aren’t you?” the girl queried. Malik nodded.

“That’s one of my nicknames,” Malik said in a tiresome tone.

“I told a thousand bar tenders around here what my parents murderer looked like and every one pointed me toward you!” Malik swallowed hardly.

“And just what did I look like?” Malik asked.

“Just as you do now but you had two horns, red eyes, tattooed whiskers, and a strange glyph on your forehead!” The description made Malik quiver.

“I guess that was me. But I warn you, malady, you are not safe when you travel with me. I give you this warning once and if you think you can keep up with me then I do not have any objections to you following me,” Malik claimed. The young lady just snorted and folded her arms.

“Do you think I was going to leave even if you didn’t want me following you?”

“Well, no…but I could kill you and be done with it,” Malik kid. The young woman didn’t find it too amusing.

“Oh, that reminds me…you know my name but I have yet to know yours,”

“My name is Charsy…Charsy Limnus,” she answered.

“Well then, Charsy…it seems that you and I will be together for quite some time. Just keep your mouth shut and out of my way and we will have no problems,” Malik said to his new traveling companion. He knew deep down in his gut that he was going to regret killer her.

The two were already half way to their destination on Mount Kauld and Malik had already had to endure an hour of complaints form Charsy. It was bad enough that Malik was considering killing the whelp for coming along in the first place. Holding himself back and reminding himself that he was no murderer, Malik resisted and tried to tone it all out.

“Where are we going? And why do we have to get there over such horrid terrain?” Charsy complained. Malik stopped in his tracks and nearly cracked.

“Our destination IS the mountain,” Malik held himself back from insulting the poor girl. He felt that her stupidity was her own insult.

“Oh…why?” Malik slapped his head. How can you travel with someone and then ask where the destination is…isn’t it the other way around? Malik thought.

“I’ve taken a job to…eliminate someone. Who he is and what he does I care not. All I care about is this,” Malik said, flashing a few gold coins.

“That’s terrible. What if he has a family?”

“Who said it was a he,” Malik said without turning. Charsy stopped in her tracks and swallowed hard. Malik just smirked devilishly and continued walking.

Knowing that he was approaching the final destination, Malik turned once more to Charsy. Pulling his double sword out of his sheath, he stared at Charsy sympathetically.

“What?” Charsy asked.

“I am afraid you cannot follow me to my destination. If I enter into combat having to think about you, or anyone else for that matter, then my performance will falter,” Malik stated.

“But…”

“I will not say it again. I will knock you unconscious if I have to but I would prefer that you just wait here for me to return,” with that, Malik turned and began toward his target. Charsy was not about to trust him, but she was too weak to stand up to him. She decided to wait there for a moment before continuing on to follow Malik.

Malik walked through a small cave that lead into a cave filled with light-giving crystals. He had seen cave formations like this before so it had no effect in awing Malik. Searching for a while, Malik finally came upon a huge cave opening that seemed to go on endlessly up. Across and wide it spanned nearly two-hundred feet, a perfect battled ground. Spotting a man with no shirt on in the center of this room, Malik approached him silently and cautiously.

The man had no hair and was extremely skinny for his trade. The only meat on his bones was muscle and he had tattoos leading from the base of his neck to his waist. He wore no shirt and wore a pair of baggy monk’s pants. His sash held an interesting scabbard that, no doubt, held the formidable blade that Trent had explained. Malik reached within shooting distance and stepped into the open.

“So, it wasn’t that hard to find you after all,” Malik said to the meditating man. The man just continued with his ritual for a few seconds and then turned around, still sitting.

“Ah, and I take it you have come here to assassinate me, have you?” the man stated. Malik nodded.

“You have a pretty hefty price on your head. I intend to collect on that,”

“Ah, but if my memory serves me properly, you too have a price on your head in some kingdoms…Malik the Mad,”

“There’s that cursed name again. How many times do I have to hear that today? Can you just draw your weapon and save us both a lot of time,”

“Certainly,” the man drew his sword revealing a curved blade that had waves like the ocean. It came to a fine point and the edge sparkled in the light of the crystals. Pointing it at Malik as the man stood, he smiled.

“Are you ready for me, Mr. ‘The Mad’?”

“The question you should be asking is this…does your fate end with my blade?”




The real action starts in chapter two...literally...stay tooned

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Chapter Three: A Blood Lit Cavern;
Malik stared down the man with the jagged edge. The blade he held out seemed to gleam in its own light that combined with the light of the crystals that dotted the cavern. Looking at the edge more keenly, Malik suddenly realized that he had seen that blade somewhere else.

“I do have a question for you before we start,” Malik stated.

“Go on,” the man said politely.

“First of all, what name do you go by, sir?”

“My name is Kriss Katall,” the man said bowing.

“Hmm…and secondly, what name does your blade go by?” the man looked at Malik wearily.

“It is called Agui…but it confuses me as to why you ask,” Kriss stated.

“Do not be confused, Sir Katall. I have faced that blade before but you were not its owner. By any chance did you encounter the former owner of it? He was a Kozsmer,” Malik explained. Smiling, Kriss lifted his sword.

“Why, yes, I did encounter a Kozsmer. You see, I killed him to obtain this edge,” Kriss Katall said with a smirk.

“Frankly, I’m not surprised. The former owner was not as powerful as you are. But this changes nothing, I already know all of Agui’s secrets…it cannot surprise me now,” Malik said to the man. Kriss just shrugged.

“You have never seen it wielded in the right hands, sir,”

“I suppose...but if that is true, why don’t you prove it to me!” Malik said, pulling his sword in front of him.

Staring at each other for a moment, the two seemed to evaluate one-another. Holding his blades delicately, Malik awaited the movements of his opponent. Aware of the advantage Kriss had from the high ground, Malik was not about to make the first move. But on the other hand, if he didn’t, then he might not ever obtain the bounty.

Pointing his blade at Malik, Kriss just turned his head from his opponent briefly as if to scoff him. Malik did not hesitate to take full advantage of the opening. Now was as good of time then any to even the odds. Springing forward, Malik drew back his blades and swung upon his target.

Kriss did not flinch at all, brining his Agui to parry the attack. Striking Malik’s first blade, Kriss attempted a counter strike. Cutting only air, Kriss’ swing was parried by Malik’s second blade. Continuing his flip over Kriss, Malik landed with his back to Kriss and his blades facing his enemy. Kriss took the flat-footed landing to stride and sprang toward his adversary.

Malik was not flat-footed, however, and swiftly spun around to swing down upon Kriss as he charged. Kriss nimbly twisted his whole body and parried the first blades strike. The second blade found its mark, however, and left a deep cut along Kriss’ forearm. Stopping his charge about fifteen feet from Malik, Kriss checked the wound.

“Hmm…you are pretty good. Not good enough, though. You see, I forgot to mention one detail…my blade has a name as well,” Malik said, putting his blade across his shoulders and resting his arms on the long hilt.

“Oh, and what name is that?” Kriss said smugly.

“It is called Mitu-Rahzi…literally ‘Heaven’s Saber’,” Malik explained. “It is a Kozsmer blade. Meant for nimble movement and dexterous fighting, the hilt is extra long to compensate. You see, you cannot usually get a good grip upon a normal double blade to swing down with full force. But with Mitu-Rahzi a dexterous fighter can utilized a full powered strike.”

“Sounds interesting. I could tell that you used your full force on that last strike…my parry was ineffective on the second strike,” Kriss said. Smiling and pulling his sword off of his shoulders, Malik readied himself once more.

Charging with his sword drawn back in tow hands, Kriss swung upwards as he ended the charge. Malik didn’t waste time parrying but instead he dodged it. Countering the charge with a sweep from his leading blade, he connected with the back of Kriss’ ankle. Stumbling back, Kriss quickly recovered by pulling his blade around himself, bracing its point on the ground to spring back up. Ducking under Malik’s following blade before coming back to his feet, Kriss swung his blade as his momentum brought him toward Malik.

Malik dodged back and swept his blade’s lead edge at Kriss, sparing no room on the hilt. The powerful swing clashed on the slender Agui that caused Kriss to stumble slightly from the recoil. The sound of steel on steel rang throughout the cavern. Spinning Mitu-Rahzi around over his head, Malik came back with an overhead swing.

Expecting the swing from his foe, Kriss flowed with the recoil enough to correct Agui’s course for interception. Coming down on only steel, Mitu-Rahzi slid off the end of Agui with deadly momentum still behind it. Slicing Kriss’ shoulder deeply, he shouted out in pain. No time to check his wound, Kriss jumped back and fell on top of a crystal with a flat peak. Standing from a crouch, Kriss looked at his wound as Malik reset himself.

“Your blade is sharp, Mr. Malik. A shame you have to die now!” Kriss said, holding up his forefinger and middle finger up in front of his face. Holding out Agui at an arms-length, he began to chant a hymn of some sort. Malik had seen and heard this before and rushed forward with intent to interrupt the chant. Not able to make it in time, Malik swung down upon only air. Looking above him, Malik saw Kriss falling down toward Malik with a now brightly glowing Agui.

Malik narrowly escaped the strike and jumped over to an empty stone top. Looking at the crystal he was just on, jagged shards of ice sprang up as if from the air itself. Standing in the middle of the ice, Kriss pulled the glowing Agui from the crystal. Remembering all to well, Malik thought about the special abilities of Agui. Magically enhanced by the forces of wind and water, Agui had the ability to create water from the moister in the air and then super chill the air around it causing it to instantaneously freeze.

“Nice trick, Kriss…but it won’t work on me!”

“Oh, but I think it has,” Kriss said, pointing at the frosted over left boot of Malik. Malik just looked at his boot and shrugged, stomping down to shake off the frozen water on his foot.

Wasting no more time, Kriss rushed toward Malik with deadly intent once more. Dodging instead of parrying, Malik jumped back as the sword froze the stone he had just left. Repeating the same process a few more times, Kriss chased Malik around the cavern.

I can’t touch that thing when it’s like this or my whole arm will get frozen…think damnit! Malik thought. Dodging and weaving strike after strike, the cavern began to chill from the amount of ice left from the effects of Agui. Jumping back once more, Malik found a stone he had already previously occupied. Losing his footing on the slick ice, he fell downward as Kriss brought a swing across Malik’s chest. The swing missed Malik’s chest but struck his armor, causing the effect of Agui to spring forth. The fall intensified by the blast of ice, Malik fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Now standing over Malik, Kriss put Agui to Malik’s neck. Smiling with a devilish shine in his eyes, Kriss lifted Agui to swing the final blow. Not letting the man finish the job, Malik hit the backs of Kriss’ knees causing the man to stumble forward. Agui stung the earth of the cavern and the effect went off once more. This time it went off enough to knock both men back. Knocked nearly twice as far as the other, Kriss stood and shook his head. Looking for his quarry, Kriss scanned the surroundings for Malik.

The blast of ice caused Malik to lose grip of his Mitu-Rahzi. Drawing his other two blades, Malik stood from behind his cover. Spotting Kriss with his back turned, checking the aria for Malik, Malik jumped forward. Kriss heard the charge and swiftly whipped around to block what he thought would be a single blade. Blocking only Malik’s O-Nori, his other blade found the meat of Kriss’ unwounded shoulder. Jumping back with the blade still in his shoulder, Kriss plucked the rogue blade from his shoulder and tossed it aside.

“Now you only have one blade, Malik the Mad. What shall you do without your precious second blade?” Kriss scoffed. After he said this, he jumped up toward Malik and swung down upon his foe. Striking the sole blade that Malik held, the two men were locked in a battle of strength. Smiling at Kriss smugly, Malik held fast. Annoyed by the man’s sudden wit, Kriss scowled.

“What are you smiling at, whelp?!”

“Hahaha…what makes you think I only have one blade?” saying this, Malik flicked the edge of the O-Nori’s hand guard. Slipping free of its locking, the blade split into two, separating down the center of the blade. Malik now held what was once a single blade. Pulling back the second edge of the O-Nori, Malik swung at Kriss while still holding the downward pressure from Agui.

Caught off guard, Kriss quickly jumped back narrowly avoiding the blow. Malik used this retreat to his advantage and pressed the assault with gusto. Pursuing Kriss much the same way he had done to Malik moments ago, Malik swung strike after strike. Finally connecting on a blow to the abdomen that left a bleeding cut across the shirtless man’s stomach.

“Not bad, my young friend, but you still have much to learn in the ways of combat. If there is one thing that I can teach you then let it be this…never show your trump card before the game is over!” Kriss said after escaping to a higher vantage point. Upon saying this, the man lifted his Agui into the air and shouted a single command word…”Numentos!”. Literally translated, this meant ‘Freeze Over’ in Kozsmer tongue.

Stepping back a little from the sudden phrase, Malik gazed in sheer amazement as the sword grew nearly three times its length and nearly twice its width. Growing not by means of steel, but rather ice, becoming a giant icicle. Holding the blade in his hands, Kriss pulled the blade back and smiled before charging Malik with tremendous speed. Surprised by the ability Agui had that he was unaware of, Malik dodged the first blow.

The second came faster then Malik could judge and struck him across the chest leaving a bloody scrape across his body. Unsure how to react after being cut, Malik held up his two swords to block the third strike. Doing little to the ice-born sword, the two blades became frozen forms of their former selves. The sheer chill that the metal emanated caused Malik to drop the two blades. Now defenseless, the third strike sent Malik flying against the closest stone, knocking Malik unconscious.

“A shameful excuse of a warrior,” Kriss said as he walked over to finish off Malik. As he approached he noticed a glow that emanated from within his downed opponent’s headband. Lifting the headband off of Malik’s head, Kriss was astonished to see the symbol widely known as the symbol of death, evil, and malice. There, upon this man’s forehead, was the symbol of Maul Darik!

Glowing brighter and brighter, the symbol finally reached a glow that seemed like it could get no brighter. Suddenly opening his eyes, Malik had the look of death on his face. Looking up at Kriss, Malik saw that he was stunned with fear. Not hesitating, Malik stood and began to plead to the man.

“Run, you fool!!! I don’t want to kill you like this! If you value your life you will get as far away from me as you can!” Malik pleaded. Kriss did not respond but rather scoffed at the man’s pathetic attempt to save his own life. Before Malik could continue his pleas, the transformation began.

Growing long claws first, Malik looked at his hands with a gaze of terror. Growing to dagger-like lengths, the claws were tipped with razor sharp edges. Next, his hair grew out from shoulder long down to the mid of his back. Growing two horns that sprouted from his temples, his face twinged and malformed with the pain of the transformation. After the horns grew in, the six whisker-like tattoos appeared on his cheeks. The hair all over his body grew in length as well, covering him in a thin coat of black fur.

After the transformation thralls ended, Malik stood there with his eyes closed and his head hung. Almost frozen in shock, Kriss used this opportunity to strike his foe, swinging his Agui down upon the transformed man. Catching the falling blade with an outstretched arm, Malik stood motionless in much the same fashion save his arm now grasping the frozen blade.

“Wha…your arm should be frozen! What the hell are you!?” Kriss shouted. Looking up at him, Malik revealed blood red glowing eyes. Snake-like in appearance, the eyes pierced Kriss’ very soul.

“What am I? Hmmm…that is a good question. I suppose I am the boy that stands before you. But at the same time I am also the reincarnation of evil…the soul of Maul Darik,” Malik said to the horrified Kriss. “You may call me Kilard.”

“Kilard? You possess this man called Malik like a disease? Then, if you are the opposite of Malik you would be willing to join me in a quest to conquer this pathetic world, would you not?” Kriss said with a slight stutter. Kilard just cocked his head and smirked.

“Me? Join you? Hmhmhm…you are not worthy to command this world. And besides, I am not separate from the boy I possess…I am PART of him. Much like a person’s conscience or their soul,” Kilard stated. Kriss began to shudder. Not willing to risk such close combat with such a creature, Kriss jumped back to a vantage point.

“Very well then. I will waist no more time. Killing you will be proof enough that I am worthy to conquer this world!” Kriss said. Holding Agui high in the air once more, he stated the same command word and let Agui grow half its current size over again.

Gathering his strength, Kriss charged Kilard with dreadful speed. Leaving a whirlwind in his wake, Kriss swung the oversized Agui at Kilard with a power near unmatched. Looking up to see what remained of his opponent, Kriss was astonished to see no trace of the man. Looking behind him, Kriss was stunned to see a claw come barreling down upon him. Knocking him across the cavern, Kilard stood with the single claw outstretched. Kriss stood from the rubble and looked at Kilard. It was almost as if that strike was effortless to Kilard.

Kilard lowered his claw and disappeared from Kriss’ field of vision. Appearing behind Kriss once more, the beast clawed at Kriss. He didn’t fall for this attack, however, and swiftly spun around to counter attack. Piercing straight through Kilard’s arm, the wound froze shut. The blow did not hamper the claw attack, however. The claw came straight across Kriss’ face, sending him reeling back once more.

Kriss staggered to his feet and checked his wound. Four deep scratches lined his right cheek. He lifted Agui and looked up just in time to see Kilard charging him with tremendous speed. Slashing at Kriss, Kilard connected yet again, the third strike as devastating as the first. When Kriss stood from this blow, he held his guard the whole time. He was surprised to see that Kilard was not charging but twisting some sort of spell.

Chanting the words steadily, Kilard set loose a spell that sprang out of his hands like bolts of jagged lightning. Connecting with Kriss, they shocked the man with outrageous power. Dropping to his knees, his strength nearly gone, Kriss dropped Agui, the ice shattering. Kilard walked over and looked into the eyes of the fallen man.

“Do you see? I have not even broken a sweat on you. Your strength is nothing in comparison to the rest of this world,” Kilard stated to the broken Kriss. Kriss just looked up with eyes of despair and hung his head in regret. Nothing was stopping Kilard from ripping out his heart.

“Release me from this world. I am broken and cannot even hold my own sword. Kill me, oh Dread Fiend, so that I might rest in the peace of death,” Kriss stated. Kilard bent down and lifted the discarded Agui. Gazing at it with envy, Kilard smiled a toothy grin.

“A cruel fate, to die by your own sword…don’t you think?” Kilard stated, looking over Agui. Kriss just looked up at Kilard and scowled. “But crueler still…to be frozen in a tomb of ice by your own sword!”

“YOU WOULDN’T?!” Kriss said. Knowing that the way of the warrior was to die gloriously by the hands of your enemy, Kilard was not about to give Kriss such a luxury when he could capture the look of horror on Kriss’ face eternally. Holding up the sword and reciting the command word, Kilard released the swords inner-most power. Attempting to stand and run, Kriss made it three steps before he was struck by the edge of the frozen blade. Encrusting him in a tomb of ice, Kriss’ look of horror was immortalized inside the ice.

“Ah…the beauty of torture. Cursed to walk this land indefinitely. How sad…and yet…how utterly gratifying!” Kilard said. Taking his new sword in stride, he threw his old, normal short sword aside. Picking up his other two blades, Kilard took one last look at the frozen masterpiece he had created. Smiling, the magic that kept Kilard on the surface faded and Malik came back into command. Falling unconscious as soon as the spell wore off, Malik slept in that cave for another hour.


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Chapter Four: “Never Trust Woman in Iron”;
Charsy had been waiting in the same spot for two hours now. She was unsure where Malik was and didn’t bother to follow him, regardless of what she originally intended. In truth she feared Malik and she had reason to. After all, it was Malik that killed her parents. But even after traveling with Malik for a whole day she still knew nothing more of the man other then his attitude he had for those that interfered with his work.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Charsy decided to venture over toward the aria she saw Malik disappear. Pulling out a pair of her daggers and staying on the balls of her feet, Charsy crept ever so silently into the cave. For a long stretch of the cave Charsy was forced to use her hands and feet for her eyes. But after a certain point a light began to grow from the depths. Coming to a massive cavern filled with glowing crystals and dripping ice that seemed to erupt from the ground, Charsy finally spotted a sign of life.

That sign of life, however, wasn’t really a sign but more of a hunch. She saw a man frozen in a block of ice and Malik on the ground next to him. Thinking only about how opportune the moment was, Charsy snuck over to the fallen Malik, dagger in hand. Blaming her poor footing, Malik awoke before Charsy could get close enough for a death strike. Quickly sheathing the dagger, she ran over to Malik to help him up.

Malik awoke to a throbbing headache and the sound of silent footsteps. Hearing the footsteps halt as he stirred, Malik made haste to recover from his fight-drunk state. He had felt this pain before and the only events he remembered afterward were usually broken fragments of battle and bloodshed. The real remembrance usually came later that night in a nightmare.

“Uhh…Charsy?! I thought I told you to wait for me outside?” Malik said, rubbing his sore head and trying to grasp his sense of time. Charsy just put her hands on her hips and frowned at Malik.

“And I’m just supposed to wait out there for two hours? What kind of man leaves a girl waiting for that long?” Charsy asked in an astonished voice. Malik found this comment left him in a bewildered state. He hadn’t really bothered spending any time with the opposite sex before. To him, women just proved to be a distraction.

“How long have you been here?”

“About a minuet. You look pretty fatigued…are you sure you’re alright?”

“Do you really care?”

“Well, of course I do…you need to be in top shape for me to kill you!” Charsy said with a sarcastic tone. Malik didn’t catch it but he paid no attention to the comment anyway.

Malik looked around again and had a few of those flashes of sudden recall. He remembered fighting Kriss and freezing him in his icy tomb. He also remembered that the only part of Kriss that wasn’t frozen was Agui. Reaching to his side, he grasped Agui and inspected it.

“That’s an interesting looking blade. Is it his?” Charsy asked, pointing to the frozen man. Malik just looked over and cocked his head.

“Yes…but I don’t quite remember how I got a hold of it,” Malik said in a puzzled voice.

“How can you not remember a fight that happened just a couple of hours ago?” Charsy asked in bewilderment.

“That is a question better left unasked,” Malik said in an exasperated tone. Charsy just frowned and looked back over at the frozen man.

“He looks pretty beat up…more so then you. I guess you are as good as they say you are,” Charsy stated. Malik had never heard any such roomer about how good he was. The only roomers he ever heard were about his “moments” that he hardly remembered. Wondering about what the roomers said, Malik pressed the issue.

“Roomers, eh? What kind of roomers talk about my skills?”

“Well, I heard from one man that you fight like a demon with no purpose; relentlessly, ruthlessly, and without emotion,”

“Hmmm…not quite, but go on,”

“Others say that your weapon choice is so unorthodox that you could use any two weapons together but using a single weapon is something you are incapable of,”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but yes, I am very skilled with two weapons instead of one,”

“All the others I’ve heard were about how you attack even those you travel with, your anger overcoming you,” Malik winced at that comment. He had heard it before but still didn’t understand how it began to begin with.

“My anger is not the issue in that roomer. You see, I have a…condition that is near unexplainable. When I get too angry or too sad, when I fear for my life or take too much bodily harm, I change,” Malik explained, trying to use small words so that Charsy didn’t get confused. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

“What do you mean by ‘change’?” Charsy asked. Malik just sighed.

“I am unsure how I change, but according to my few friends that have actually survived my change, I become akin to a Mau-Tir. Horns, blood red eyes, dark black almost feral hair, and razor sharp claws,” Malik hoped that this explanation didn’t confuse the girl more.

“But I thought Mau-Tir were just a fairytale?” Charsy said in a daze. She had obviously never seen a Mau-Tir with her own two eyes.

“Well, they aren’t. I would know…one of them killed my parents,” Malik said silently. Charsy just cocked her head in confusion. She was unsure how to feel about that comment. In a way she was delighted to hear that the man who killed her parents had the same fate, but on the other side of it she felt sorry for him.

“I am sorry to hear that…but wasn’t it you that killed my parents. You have no right to bring that up around me!”

“I told you before, it wasn’t technically me that killed your parents. Look, if I told you I was in that changed state when I killed my parents, would you believe me?”

“Not really…”

“Think back to what I looked like. Longer hair, horns, whisker-like tattoos…all of it is a giveaway of my transformation,” Malik explained. Charsy thought back as well as she could. Seeing it unfold was hard for her and she never enjoyed thinking about it.

“Come to think about it, you did have bright red glowing eyes,” Charsy said. Malik nodded in approval.

“See, I told you. Look at my eyes now. What color are they?”

“Blue…almost a green,”

“But they aren’t red, are they?”

“No…I guess not. But if you forget things when you change, how do you remember what happened in this fight and not when you killed my parents?” Charsy asked. Malik wondered in thought for a moment.

“I’m not sure. I only remember short things when I change. That and I wasn’t changed for the majority of this particular fight,” Malik said. Charsy didn’t seem satisfied with what Malik was saying about the whole matter. Unwilling to continue the conversation, Malik sheathed Agui and began walking toward the exit.

“Come on, lets not dwell on the past anymore. Anyway, all this talk of my ‘problem’ is starting to get on my nerves,” Malik said as he passed Charsy. Charsy didn’t argue, having the frozen man staring at her was starting to creep her out.

After reaching the exit of the cave, Charsy prodded further into why exactly they had come all the way out to these mountains. Malik explained his meeting with the old man and why exactly he was fighting the frozen man.

“So, if everyone knows you for your ‘changed’ self, what are YOU like? I mean, the REAL you,” Charsy asked after a long hike and a great deal of silence. Malik just stopped and set down his pack mentioning that this was a good place to set up camp.

“Well…I suppose I am a little anti-social. I never keep friends around for very long dew to my condition. I would like to think of myself as a kind person…but I think that would be a tad farfetched,” Malik explained as he picked up a few sticks and loose branches for fire timber.

“Why would you say that?” Charsy asked, sitting down on a near by rock.

“Well…I don’t often think of other’s needs. I find myself worrying mostly about number one…me. But I must say, when I fight with friends or non-combatants near I tend to become more unfocused and distracted dew to their presence,” Malik had begun to scrape at his steel with a flint by now. The fire started, Charsy pressed the issue further.

“So if you think of others during combat but not out of combat…how did you get such a fierce reputation?”

“I find myself fighting around others quite often. And if I get overly angry or even if I take a hard enough hit from my enemy I start to change. My reputation built off of killing my friends in combat while in this changed state. I have even killed helpless bystanders according to one of my friends,” Malik said this in a grim tone that seemed to kill all noise but the cracking of the fire.

“You keep saying you have friends…who are they?”

“Many of them are warriors like me. I befriended a whole town on the continent of Kalestia. Unfortunately I caused a lot of trouble for another town there so I am forbidden to enter Kalestia ground. The only friend I have here in Pillith is a craftsman by the name of Kaylop. Him and the barkeep at Reshard,” Malik said. Charsy looked at the man with a queer eye.

“You mean to tell me that you befriended a whole town? I find that hard to believe,” Charsy stated very matter-of-factly. Malik didn’t flinch from the comment.

“I’m used to that sort of thing. Not many people that know about me before meeting me really understands why I act the way I do. Believe it or not, I don’t take very many bounties. I only take them when I’m in need of gold,” Malik said. Pulling out his coin purse, he shook it and listened to the empty sound it made.

Later that night, Malik began to sharpen his blades. It had become a habit of his and he had become so accustom to it that he found it hard to sleep otherwise. Charsy was twiddling with one of her daggers and looked extremely board to Malik. He wasn’t sure what to think of the situation. He knew that the girl was here to kill Malik but he wasn’t sure she was capable of killing him in his sleep.

“Why were you asking so many questions about me earlier?” Malik said suddenly. Charsy just jabbed her dagger into a tree next to her and looked at Malik.

“I’m not sure. I guess sense I’m going to be traveling with you so much I just wanted to know a little about the guy I’m traveling with,” Charsy stated. Malik just raised an eyebrow.

“You want to know more about the person you intend to kill? I thought you were only following me so you could kill me in my sleep,” Malik stated. Charsy gave Malik a look of disgust.

“What do you think I am? A monster? I have honor you know!” Charsy said with a sharp tone. Malik just recoiled his head a bit.

“Okay, sorry I opened my mouth…I’m guessing you get that trait from your father?” Malik asked.

“Yes…as a matter of fact, I do,” Charsy said. It wasn’t clear to Malik yet, but Charsy was a very proud woman. She made a living off of men that thought a woman could never beat him at one thing or another.

After some time passed and Charsy had curled up to go to sleep, Malik looked up at the night sky. The stars still put awe in Malik’s eyes, a trait he had since a young age. To him the stars were different. They each had a tail to tell, a story to convoke upon someone.

“Why do stare at the stars like that?” Malik heard Charsy ask. He just looked over at her and smiled.

“I had thought you had gone to sleep?” Malik stated.

“I can’t sleep. And no, it’s not because you are here…it’s because I’m not quite used to sleeping on a bedroll,” Charsy explained. Malik just smirked as Charsy rubbed her side and then turned his gaze upon the stars once more.

“I stare at the stars like that because each one is a fallen hero. My father once told me that whenever a hero of pure heart and great deeds dies, his soul is immortalized in the stars. Each one is a hero of the past,” Malik explained. Charsy gazed at Malik. She didn’t know that this man was capable of such thought, let alone of reminiscing in the past.

“I’ve hears of such a story. But my father told me that it was nothing more then just fairy tail and fantasy,” Charsy said.

“I like to think that it is true. That’s why I strive to do good deeds whenever the opportunity arises. But it scarcely does,” Malik said.

“Because of what you have done, right? All the bad things that you have done in the past?” Charsy asked, already knowing the answer. Malik didn’t answer but just lowered his head. Thinking back to his childhood that terrorized him in his sleep. It wasn’t often that he talked about his past. Only the bards that raised him knew the whole story. And if Malik had anything to say about it, it would stay that way.

The next morning, the two awoke to the warm morning sun. Malik was surprised to still be alive and Charsy was just glad to be living at all. Malik was not much of a morning person, getting up slowly, packing his gear in a lazy manor, and then slowly shuffling over to the fire pit and starting a fire.

Charsy was his polar opposite. She jumped out of bed and put here things away in a very orderly fashion, all the while a smile on her face, humming a tune. She then hopped up and went straight out to look for fire tinder and anything that might look edible. She found a few berries and brought them to the camp site to try them out. Looking at Malik as if to offer her spoils, Malik declined with just a tired groan and a sleepy nod.

“You aren’t very much of a morning person, are you?” Charsy remarked. Malik turned his head slowly to the girl.

“No,” Malik grunted. He was once a morning person, when he was younger, but that changed when his ‘condition’ reared its ugly hide. Charsy just shrugged and began to eat the berries herself.

Latter in the day, the two had continued their journey back to town. Looking back at Charsy with a large grin, Malik began to chuckle to himself. The berries that she had picked were not very good for the human stomach and Malik knew it. After all, much of his time was spent on the road trying to forage for himself.

“You knew those berries were poisons, didn’t you?” Charsy blamed. Malik just shook his head and chuckled some more.

“Well, at least you’ve learned something from this experience, haven’t you?” Malik stated with a grin. Charsy just rubbed her stomach.

“Yeah…whatever you don’t eat I don’t eat,” Malik just laughed out loud at that comment. It was a smart comment indeed, but the thought of it just made Malik laugh.

The journey back to town was a short one but with the occasional potty break it seemed longer then it should have been. Malik was only concerned about getting paid in full for the job he did at this point. He was told to bring back the head of Kriss but all he had to show the man was put down was his sword. Hopefully that will be enough, Malik thought.

The two walked into the pub/inn that Malik was so familiar with and walked over to the bartender. His eyes lit up when he saw Malik and pulled out a mug, filling it with the local ail.

“Thanks, Trent. Have you seen a cloaked man, about this tall?” Malik asked, bringing his flattened palm to his neck.

“No, not recently. Although…I did encounter an old friend of yours. Well, at least that’s what he said he was,” Trent stated. Malik took a swig of the ail and looked at Trent.

“What did this guy look like?” Malik enquired.

“He looked like a scholar. He had the robes of a twister and some strange looking gauntlets hanging from his belt. And he was tall…REALLY tall…taller then you, anyway,” Trent described. Saying someone was taller then Malik meant something. Malik stood at a veritable six feet two inches, a height that was beyond average.

“Wow! He must have been a strange sight in this bar,” Charsy said. She too was taller then most women but even she paled in comparison to Malik at a slim five feet six inches.

“Yeah, he’s tall. Sounds like Kaylop alright. What did he want? Or better yet, where did he go?” Malik queried. Trent put his hand on his chin and thought for a moment.

“Well, let’s see here. He said something about a debt you owed him and I heard him mutter something about a dragon. Nasty business, dragons, so I kept to myself,” Trent said. Malik gave a look of shock.

“I thought you said this guy was your friend, Malik. Why do you owe him a debt?” Charsy asked, seeming to care little about what Trent said about the dragon.

“He saved my life. Nothing too big,” Malik said, seeming to wave it off. “So did you catch where he was going?”

“No, he didn’t say. But you might want to stay close, he did say he was going to try back here before he left town. I told him that you hang around here for long periods of time before and after jobs,” Trent stated. Trent wasn’t lying; Malik did enjoy spending money he didn’t have at the bar. He always paid it back and Trent knew that he was good for every drink he had.

“Well, then I guess you should get my room ready for me. Looks like I’m going to be staying a little longer then I originally intended. Oh, and set up a room for the girl too,” Malik said. Charsy just ruffled through her coin purse and pulled out a few coins. Malik put his hand on hers when she tried to pay Trent for the room.

“My treat, Charsy. Just put it on my tab, Trent, I got a job I’ll be cashing in on soon and I should have enough to cover tonight and my last stay,” Malik said. Charsy just gave Malik a strange look and then shrugged, putting the money back in her pouch.

“So this guy saved your life, hu?” Charsy asked. Malik nodded and took a swig of his ail.

“I was probably about fourteen. I had one of those fits I’ve been telling you about and pretty much destroyed the caravan I was traveling with. I don’t remember much of the time I spent with him then, but I do remember that Kaylop was not tolerant of my free spirit. He has always been a sort of mentor to me,” Malik explained. Charsy just listened and sipped at the watered down drink they called ail.

“So you learned a lot about fighting from this guy?” Charsy queried. Malik shook his head.

“No, I learned about myself and what causes this change. I learned about the past and about the race called Mau-Tir. He even had time to teach me a few tricks about twisting,” Malik said as he gulped down another swig of ail. Charsy looked at the man in disbelief.

“So you know how to twist without a ‘mage gauntlet’?” Charsy asked.

“Yeah, a little. I don’t know much, not enough to protect myself with. Enough that if I ran out of flint I would still be alright to start a fire for myself,” Malik shrugged the fact off as it was nothing more then a parlor trick. In fact, humans being able to twist without the aid of a ‘mage gauntlet’ were considered to be spiritually centered…even those that only knew ‘parlor tricks’.

“You don’t look like you are enjoying that very much,” Malik said, changing the subject. Charsy took another sip and winced with a shake of her head.

“I’m actually used to stronger drinks then this. I’m from Broham so my family has always been hardy,” Charsy explained. Broham was known as the mountain province. A great deal of the city of Broham was actually within the largest mountain peak in the Broham Mountain range. Being a northern kingdom, the people of it were naturally hardy.

“Ah, so you would be more accustom to my Brohiman wine?” Trent said, listening to the whole conversation.

“You have Brohiman wine?” Malik said in shock. “I thought that stuff was outlawed here?!”

“Ah, but it is. Not to sound like a fence, but if I give this to you, you didn’t get it from me!” Trent said, pulling out a brown wine bottle. Charsy nodded in approval and pulled out her coin purse once more. Paying the man what he asked, Charsy asked for a couple of cups.

“Here, Malik, I want you to try this. It’s accustom in my families heritage to treat a host to Brohiman wine. And, sense you are paying for my room, that makes you my host,” Charsy poured a half-cup of wine for both herself and Malik. Malik picked up the cup and sniffed at it sheepishly. He wasn’t sure what to make of the liquid as it smelled like a product one would use to remove paint from a building.

“What’s it made of?” Malik asked in an unsure tone. Charsy just cocked her head and smiled.

“What’s the matter? Is the great warrior afraid of a simple drink?” Charsy poked. Malik puffed out his chest a bit and sat a bit straighter in his chair.

“No! There isn’t a drink in this world that could whip me!” Malik said, taking a chug of the foreign liquid. Charsy just sat back and awaited the fireworks.

Setting the empty cup down on the table, a swift brush of lightheadedness came across Malik. The flavor was heavenly, tasting almost like a well aged white wine with a sprig of cinnamon dashed in it. The taste, however, was accompanied with a feeling of weightlessness that swept over Malik’s entire body. The feeling was shortly followed by a lightheadedness that lasted only as long as the bitter aftertaste of the wine. Reeling from the effects of the drink, Malik smacked his lips and looked at Charsy with accusation.

“Wow…I’ve never seen anyone chug it like that. The normal way to drink it is to take only enough to fit under your tongue. That way, the effects are controlled and the flavor is savored for a longer time,” Charsy said as she demonstrated. “A cup this full would usually last one a whole evening.”

Trent just laughed as he looked at Malik. The thought of Malik being intoxicated was unheard of to Trent being that he had tried giving him drinks of all sorts to put him under. Not until now has Trent ever seen Malik under the effects of alcohol.

“Hmmm…I don’t think he knows what to make of this state, lass. He is ‘Malik the Mad’ after all,” a deep voiced man said from behind Charsy. Charsy turned to see who was speaking only to witness a giant of a man standing there. The man was nearly seven feet tall and had a white beard that tailed down to his waist. His garb was extravagantly clad in gold and silver trim, the primary colors being orange and yellow, the colors of Kalestia. Adorned on his belt was a pair of bejeweled gauntlets and a sword that had a blade nearly the length of Malik’s Mitu-Rahzi. The leaned on a walking stick of marvelous craftsmanship that stood at the same height as the man himself.

“Kaylop, I presume?” Charsy said to the man. The man just smiled behind his beard and looked over at the now incoherent Malik.

“I see you have been talking to our deer Malik. Trent, if you would please help Malik to his room. Me and him have something to discuss. As for you, my deer, I think you and I should have a word before then,” Kaylop said. Charsy just rolled her eyes back and averted her gaze as if she was in trouble. Malik looked around and spotted the tall man. Stumbling past him with the aid of Trent, Malik placed his hand on the tall man’s shoulder.

“You shee, Kayloph? My fathur wash rights…’never trusht women in iron!’”


_________________
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[Flashlight Antics]

So how many people have even read this yet?



Chapter Five: The Tall Wizard and A Broken Past;
Kaylop brought Malik up to his room and placed him in his bed, leaving him to his own devices. Realizing Malik was not used to such a state, he removed the presence of any weapons or dangerous objects that Malik had on his person, placing them in his own pack for safekeeping. He then walked out and locked the room so Malik couldn’t find his way out. Making his way down the stairs, he looked around for the woman that had accompanied Malik to the tavern.

Once Kaylop found Charsy at a table in the corner, he walked over and sat down, removing his hat and setting down his walking stave. Charsy didn’t know what to make of the tall man and just his presence was intimidating. He was old in appearance but that did not prove to defer from his ominous presence that loomed over the entire tavern hall. Looking up at the man, Charsy offered a drink of the wine. Holding out his mug, Kaylop accepted the offering.

“It seems as if our young friend has found himself overstepping his boundaries,” Kaylop stated as he took a sip of the wine. Charsy just silently agreed. “I have known the boy for some time now and one might think of me as his mentor. However, it seems as if the relationship you share with him is not as friendly as I had originally thought,” Kaylop continued.

“Oh, and what makes you think that?” Charsy asked in a polite manor. Taking another sip of the wine, Kaylop just looked down at her.

“The comment he gave me before stumbling off to bed,” Kaylop concluded. Charsy didn’t have much to say about that and left out any attempts at a rebuttal. “Being that your presence isn’t of a kind nature, why might you be traveling with Malik?”

“He did something terrible in the past and I intend to make him pay for it,”

“Ah, so it seems you have felt the true nature of my young protégé,” Kaylop said in a surprisingly calm manor. Charsy just cocked her head in disgust.

“Yes I have. It sounds as if you believe the stories he tells about ‘changing’,” Charsy said. Kaylop just stared at the girl.

“That is because if have witnessed them,” Kaylop said, taking another sip of the wine. Charsy just recoiled a little. She didn’t have any reason to believe Malik, but why would a wizard such as this have any reason to lie to her?

“You have? What does he look like when this happens, then?” Charsy said, seeing if the description Malik gave was similar to this mans outside opinions.

“He grows horns and a tail, growing a black fur-like coat of hair. The rough description of him would be a crude Mau-Tir, even going as far as the eye color. The only key descriptive point that distinguishes him from a Mau-Tir in that state, other then the obvious difference in fur density, is a mark on his forehead resembling a glowing hand with an eye in the palm,” Kaylop explained. The description was nearly flawless, matching Malik’s version to a tee. Charsy just slumped in her seat. How could her lifelong enemy, the murderer of her parents, be a monster that existed only part of the time?

“Kaylop, right? I have hunted Malik for years on end knowing no fear, feeling no pain, in an attempt to avenge my parents. But according to you this man that I had thought to be the devil is only a shell, a callous to the true killer of my parents?” Charsy tried to hold back anger. Kaylop was no fool, he sensed the frustration in the woman’s voice.

“Yes, I am,” Kaylop just looked at the girl flatly and finished off his wine. Standing up afterward, he looked down at the girl and leaned on his stave. “The world is full of evil, young lady. What you must come to terms with is the fact that not all evil is true,” Kaylop explained.

Charsy understood what the man was trying to convey but she played dumb for the moment. “And what is meant by that?” she asked humbly.

“You are not a foolish girl. If you managed to put Malik under that means you are resourceful. And the fact that you poisoned his dink does not amuse me,” Kaylop said with a pious jaunt. Charsy just scowled at the man.

“How did you know I poisoned it? My slight of hand is flawless!” Charsy said, sounding very upset with the tall wizard.

“I could taste it. Like you I have grown an immunity to the effects of wolvesbane,” Kaylop said smugly.

“And how do you know I have grown an immunity to it?”

“Because you show no symptoms of the intoxicating drug. The amount you put in the wine bottle was enough to bring Malik to the floor, but you notice he was still able to walk under his own power. Did you notice that, or were you too busy scoffing his tolerance for strong drinks?” Kaylop stated. Charsy thought about it and looked surprised.

“Yes, I did notice that he was surprisingly unaffected by the poison. Let me guess, he is immune to it too, right?” Charsy said sarcastically.

“No, he is not,” Kaylop said, turning around to the bar, ordering a drink for himself.

“Then how the hell is he still alive?” Charsy said in frustration.

“His tolerance for poisons and toxins is astounding. Malik could consume more belladonna then you or I would even dream of attempting. It would take more wolvesbane then you have to kill Malik,” Kaylop said. Charsy just looked stunned.

“How? How is that even possible?! The amount I have is enough to kill twenty men!”

“Malik isn’t twenty men, is he? No, he is a beast of another nature. Would a dose of belladonna kill a Mau-Tir? The answer is no, it wouldn’t. So why would it even begin to destroy Malik’s system?” Kaylop asked, not expecting an answer.

“Are you saying that Malik is a Mau-Tir?” Charsy said. Kaylop just narrowed his eyelids.

“No. Malik is stronger then a Mau-Tir. Malik is not only the boy I trained, but the reincarnation of THE Mau-Tir…Maul Darik,” Kaylop stated. Charsy just gasped at that name.

“But that is supposed to be a fairy tail told to little children. Maul Darik was never a REAL Mau-Tir…was he?” Charsy just looked on in a daze.

“I think you should find a place to rest, my young friend. Tomorrow our Malik begins a very important mission,” Kaylop said. Not arguing with the man, Charsy just went up to her room. Better to agree with a wise mage then argue with him.

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The following morning, Malik awoke to a hangover from hell. His head ached so badly he couldn’t tell where he was at first. Holding his temple and rising slowly from his bed like a vampire from his crypt, Malik looked around only to see Kaylop sitting in a chair next to the door.

“Kaylop? What the hell happened last night?” Malik said with a slight groan of disorientation. Kaylop just sat in his chair smoking his pipe.

“It seems that your young companion has had a bad past with you. I doubt she will try to poison you again,” Kaylop said. Malik looked stunned.

“Charsy actually tried to poison me?! What with?”

“Belladonna,”

“Wolvesbane?! Good god, she MUST want me dead. And I thought I was just getting through to her that I didn’t kill her parents,” Malik said. Kaylop, never changing his expression, nodded.

“Yes you did…while in your altered state,” Kaylop said. “And I have a feeling that the other you does not want this you to find out about it. Part of a major scheme of things, I fear,” Kaylop said. Malik just shrugged.

“Either way, its ancient history to me now. What do I care if her parents died, I obviously don’t remember it so the other me must think it isn’t important to remember,” Malik said, trying his hardest to hide the pain he was in from the headache.

“Just because your other half wishes to hide something does not mean it is unimportant. Regardless, we have more pressing matters. It seems as if your expertise is needed at Castle Pillith,” Kaylop stated. Malik just cocked his head at the last comment.

“ME? Needed at Castle Pillith? What would King Pillith want with ME?” Malik said in conundrum. Kaylop just shrugged.

“Well, hanging you comes to mind. You are a wanted man in three of the nine kingdoms and your actions here are starting to become you,” Kaylop stated. Malik just shrugged smugly.

“If the king wanted me dead he would have put out a royal creed for my arrest or death…like the other three kings did. No, I think he wants my help with something,” Malik deduced.

“Very good, Malik. I have taught you well after all. I think I might know what he wants of you, however,” Kaylop said, finally changing his tone and posture. Fitting himself delicately on the chair and smiling delightfully, he looked at Malik.

“Oh, and what might that be, oh wise wizard of Tenerin?”

“Your sword, deer Malik…your sword. Haven’t you heard? Pillith is at war!” Malik looked at the wizard with disbelief. War was a serious matter and a gold mine for mercenaries. The fact that the whole nation was at war, however, sent a chill down Malik’s spine.

“War! How did the whole country get dragged into a war!?” Malik asked, sounding a little surprised.

“I’m sure you already know,” Kaylop said smugly. Malik thought he had an idea of what could cause it but he wanted to be sure.

“A land dispute with Zethra?” Malik said, already knowing the answer. Zethra is part of the same land mass as Pillith and disputes between the two are often the cause of political disagreement or worse. Tension between the two had always been high strung.

“Yes, but it is more then that. It seems as if the royal crest of King Pillith has been stolen. The politicians of Pillith all point their fingers at the Zethrians,” Kaylop said. Malik just nodded. He was unsure what his role in this war was supposed to be, but any job a wealthy government was willing to give to Malik was worth it. In any case, political pardons were also a great perk for Malik.

“So, you were sent by the Pillithian council to collect mercenaries, right?” Malik queried. Kaylop just sipped at his drink once more.

“It seems you have grown wiser since our last encounter…yes, you caught me. I am here on the behalf of the royal court,” Kaylop said sarcastically. Malik knew Kaylop was an informal member of just about every kingdom’s royal court. Being a great and wise wizard, Kaylop’s wisdom was sought after by many kings and barons alike.

“Well then, I guess they thought that sense you are my friend that you could convince me to help with them, right? Well you’re wrong. Just because you are my friend doesn’t mean I am going to walk into the courts of Pillith with a damn leash on!” Malik said, sounding a little agitated. Kaylop didn’t flinch, however, only taking a sip of his drink once more.

“I don’t expect you to, child. And I find it offensive that you would even expect that of me. I had thought I had earned you trust. You are more of a child to me then a friend, Malik. No, I do not wish it of you to walk into the royal court with a leash…only a string,” Kaylop referenced. Malik caught the metaphor, knowing that a string would prove to seem like a leash, but was easily broken.

“And what leverage would I get from them, money? Power? A few political pardons? And then what, Kaylop? Do I trust them just because you told them they could trust me?” Malik was secretly holding in his true wishes of a political employer. He was not much of a greedy man and did not like hording gold, but rather spending it. Anything the royal court could give Malik was fine, but he wanted more…he wanted answers that the royal court might be able to give him.

“You might finally be given those pardons that will get the price off of your head in the Pillithian lands. Regardless of what they offer you, I have reserved a contract with them stating your immediate release if you refuse. In other words, you will not be imprisoned if you refuse their offer…and they know it!” Kaylop said, pulling out a note signed by King Gregory Pillith III himself. Malik smiled deviously.

“Really now? Well then, Kaylop…I think we should prepare our things. It’s going to be a long journey to the capital,” Malik said, folding the paper and handing it back to the wizard.

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Malik and Charsy spent one last night in the tavern, packing everything they owned into their packs the following morning. Kaylop did not travel with many things and he spent the night at a nicer inn across town. Malik said his goodbyes to the few ‘friends’ he had in the city and went to the edge of town where he said he would meet Kaylop. As expected, Kaylop was waiting there before Malik arrived. It was more expected to see a wizard awaiting something then them to keep someone waiting.

“I see you decided to accompany us to the capital, Miss Charsy,” Kaylop noted.

“I told you, me and Malik have a score to settle and I’m not leaving his side until he lies cold and dead on the ground!” Malik winced at the comment.

“I’m standing right here, you know!” Malik said. Charsy just shrugged.

“It’s not as if I’ve said something you didn’t already know,”

Beginning the longest leg of their journey to the capital, Malik and company started by heading to the only road in all of Pillith that was denoted a ‘highway’. It was the only paved road outside of any city and lead to every large city in the country. The origin, of course, was the capital city of Pillith. Castle Pillith, as it was called, was the largest city on the continent and was nearly half a world away from Reshard. Not only that but the highway had to go through the largest mountain range in Pillith to reach the capital. Needless to say, the journey itself would be a test.

Thinking about the path to come, Malik could only think back to the first time he had visited the capital. It was dark and stormy on that night and every guard was under some kind of cover for fear of drenching every inch of themselves right down to the bone. Malik had never minded getting wet, even as wet as he was he felt the same as he did any other day. Spending years in the wilderness will change a man in ways such as this.

Seeking out only place to stay for the night, Malik was still unsure of the city itself. As a matter of fact, Malik didn’t even know he was in the capital city until years after. He was young still. Looking at the boy he once was, Malik guessed that he was about twelve at that time, almost eight years ago. The city was so big that Malik hardly noticed the rain, staring only at the tall buildings that seemed like monstrous golems of stone and steel.

Wondering around, Malik still didn’t know what to make of the city. He was told by his father that if anything ever happened to him to go to the capital only eight miles northeast of Zeppsy. Thinking only about his last memory of his father, Malik came to another sight that he did not mean to remember.

The flashback that Malik had incurred had forced out an image that he had only seen in his dreams until now. His last memory of his father was the look on his face as Malik ripped out his throat. Malik had leaped up on to the man and stood over him, looking down with a feral stare. The last thing his father said forever stained his existence…“You forge your own path, Malik. In time you find this to be a blessing, not a curse. Always remember…safe waters are never far.” Malik still didn’t know what his father was trying to tell him.

Snapping out of the daydream, Malik noticed he had fallen back from the other two considerably. Jogging up to them, he just held his head in caress as if he was suffering from a headache.

“Another flashback, boy?” Kaylop asked.

“Yes. This one was about the capital city…my first visit. But shortly after that I found that a nightmare had come out during the day. I saw him, Kaylop. I still can’t get that those words out of my head,” Malik said, hanging his head.

“What words?” Charsy asked before Kaylop could console the boy.

“I think it would be better not to ask such questions, child,” Kaylop told Charsy. Charsy just looked at Malik strangely and shrugged. What did she care.

“Your past is catching up with you boy. You need to keep your head in the right place. Let it go…you have suffered enough for something that was never your fault to begin with,” Kaylop said to Malik as Charsy walked away. Malik just shook his head.

“I can’t, Kaylop. Not until I finish it. Not until I find him and give him what he seeks. I have some questions that need answering and the royal court of Pillith might have those answers for me,” Malik said, holding his head up. “I will not let my past bury me, but I will not bury my past until I have sealed that man’s fate!”

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[Flashlight Antics]

Okay, so can I just get ONE reader to post something about this...please...I'm getting anxious and after five chapters (six now) I still don't know what anyone thinks of it...so if you read this sucker try to give me some feed back...you might find it to be beneficial to the story!!!





Chapter Six: Thieves Honor;
It had been five days since Malik and company set out from Reshard. Without too much food or water the group would be forced to begin a search for food and water. If they didn’t it might mean going hungry for a few days. The closest town was at least three days journey ahead of them and it was far too late to turn back to Reshard. Their only hope was to bank on Malik being a good enough hunter to bag a big enough meal for the three of them.

This problem wasn’t much of a big deal for Malik as he had caught things so big before that he had to throw it back to the vultures. If he could find a good enough spot to set traps it would make the ordeal a great deal easier. As Malik thought about how he might set up the traps once they found a camp spot, Charsy looked ahead from a tall rock just off the path. Seeing a caravan that seemed to be stopped, her excitement got the better of her.

“A caravan! A caravan is just ahead of us!” the girl said excitedly, turning to the two men. Kaylop looked ahead to confirm the report and Malik jogged over to the rock where Charsy was to get a better view. Seeing the same sight as Charsy, Malik smiled.

“What do you think old man? Think it’s a trap?” Malik said, looking back at Kaylop. Kaylop just smiled. He pulled out his two gauntlets and put them on his hands. Going into a very wide stance, Kaylop began to grasp at the air as if to pull it to him. As he did this the air seemed to take on a color and become visible. Warping the shaped air into a sphere, Kaylop held it out and looked into it.

“They are no doubt in need of some assistance. It seems as if the leader is a slender man with leather armor of some sort. Very much different from the rest of the party,” Kaylop explained. Charsy just looked at Kaylop with amazement.

“Was that twisting?” Charsy had clearly never seen a wizard before. They were uncommon throughout the world and Kozsmer (who could twist naturally) were in scant quantities in Broham.

“Yeah, it was. You should see what he is capable of without those gauntlets,” Malik said to the girl. She just looked at the man and then over at Kaylop again. Amazing, she thought.

“Well, no reason to stay around here. They may have some food for trade and that would save me a great deal of hardship,” Malik said, walking toward the caravan. Kaylop just put away his gauntlets and followed, Charsy close behind.

As Malik approached the caravan he noticed that one of the wagons was missing a wheel. It was a devastating blow to a caravan in this part of the world. There was no way to fix it quickly and it could take a week to fix something this damaged. The only way to get a job like this one done quickly was to resort to twisting. Unfortunately, caravans in Pillith rarely traveled with a wizard or Kozsmer.

“You think you can fix that?” Malik whispered to Kaylop.

“Yes, I could. Why?”

“Because, if we can barter with these guys for food we don’t need to pay them a copper if you fix their wheel,”

“Well I don’t see why not,” Kaylop said. Malik walked up to who thought was the caravan master and bowed his head respectfully.

“It seems like you are in a bit of a mess, friend,” Malik said. The caravan head just looked at him and smiled.

“That’s what it seems,” He replied. Malik just smiled back.

“I happen to have a friend here who can help you out here. All we ask for in return is your aid in lending us some rations and a few water skins. Do we have a deal?” Malik said slyly. The man looked back at the tall man that Malik had motioned to and looked him over. Noticing the gauntlets that hung from his belt, the caravan head jumped down from his cart and walked over to Malik, extending his hand with a smile.

“Deal, friend. Might you have a name?” the man asked. Malik looked at the man with a suspicious gaze.

“What good would a name do you, friend?” Malik said, still grasping the man’s hand from shaking it.

“Well I just want to know the name of the man that saved my caravan, that’s all,” he said. Malik just looked at him and shrugged. He was never fond of telling people his real name and if this guy knew who he was he might be more inclined to run then make a deal.

“The name is Jack Fields,” Malik stated. The man smiled.

“Hmm…interesting name. My name is Jasper Cartwright, but my friends call me ‘Fox’,” the man said in return. Malik breathed an inner sigh of relief. Good, Malik thought, this guy doesn’t know my name.

Kaylop stepped over and began to twist a repair spell. One of such proportion would take a few moments but that was fine, Malik still needed to exchange the goods with this ‘Fox’ character. Charsy and Malik took as much as they thought they would need and Fox seemed more then happy to hand it all over. There was an overabundance of goods in the caravan and that made Malik a little suspicious. He thought nothing of it for the moment, after all, these people were helping Malik.

As Malik and Charsy waited around, Fox struck a conversation with Charsy. He seemed to be quite the ladies man and Charsy took on to him like a fish to bait. Malik just watched the man closely, still caring about the woman that traveled with him. Looking over at a group of stronger looking caravan goers, Malik noticed that they were eyeing him over like he was livestock. It made Malik shift a little and the men just smiled and nodded to him. Malik was still unsure why they were staring but nodded back just so he didn’t offend them.

“There, all finished,” Kaylop said. Malik and Charsy looked over as Fox ran over to inspect the job that Kaylop did. Nodding in approval, he shook Kaylop’s hand.

“Wonderful job, old chap, wonderful job. You were worth every copper, a true lifesaver!” Aaron stated. Just as Malik and Charsy said goodbye to the caravan and its leader, he mounted up and shouted “Move out” to the rest of the caravan. Watching the train of wagons move on, Malik just smiled devilishly.

“We made a killing!” Malik said, holding out a bag of rations and water skins. “That guy gave us enough rations to last from here to the capital!”

“Hmm…” Kaylop thought out loud. “Do you suspect something of them, Malik? I didn’t quite get a good feeling from that man.”

“Who cares?! We have food now!” Charsy said excitedly.

Malik just looked out in the direction of the caravan that they had just helped. Malik wasn’t sure but he thought he saw the coat of arms of Pillith on one of those crates. The only thing was, most of those men didn’t even seem like they were from Pillith, let alone fit for the task of transporting royal goods. He thought nothing of it and put it in the back of his mind.

The group walked on for about another three hours before they came to a small valley along the path. Two giant rocks stood on either side of the path and there were only two exits, forward and back. Malik didn’t like these kinds of paths and tended to stray away from them. However, he didn’t want to be made out to be paranoid to the other two travelers and went on with no hesitation. Unfortunately, as soon as they entered a wagon blocked their path forward and then their path back. They were trapped.

“Damn, what in the nine hells is going on!?” Malik said, instinctively pulling out Agui and his other O-Nori. Jumping out on to one of the rocks was Fox, the caravan’s leader. Malik gave him a look of pure hatred.

“Ah, so it seems that you have been caged in. Well I guess since you have nowhere to run you can hand over all of your gold now. You can keep those rations, though…courtesy of King Pillith,” Fox said.

“Hm…do you really think I didn’t notice that you were thieves?” Malik said calmly. Jasper looked over and smirked.

“If you knew we were thieves then why did you fall right into our trap?” Fox scoffed. Malik just smiled.

“Because I know something you don’t,”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“My real name is Malik Pivval of Pillith…but many know me as Malik the Mad!” Malik just crossed his arms, one of the few times showing his pride for his infamy. The thief just looked down in interest much to the dismay of Malik and company.

“Really now? Malik the Mad you say? Ho ho, this is too good to be true! Not only do I get all the gold on your person but I get to collect on your bounty. Can this day get any better?!” Fox scoffed. Malik just scowled and looked up at the man, drawing Mitu-Rahzi and sheathing Agui and his other O-Nori.

“It’s about to get a lot worse!” Malik jumped up at the man with tremendous speed and power. The leap caused so much force that it kicked up dust from the position that Malik had just left. Coming at the thief with full power, Malik smiled deviously. Fox could only look on in horror as the man came rushing toward him with such speed that Fox could not draw a weapon. Malik reached in time to strike the man across the shoulder, a crimson spray coming forth as Malik landed on the other side of the bolder. Unfortunately, he jumped right into the midst of a group of even more thieves. Smiling, Malik stood from his knee and looked around.

Charsy and Kaylop could only watch as Malik nearly vanished from beside them to strike the conniving Jasper standing on the bolder. As Malik disappeared from sight, the thief grasped his shoulder as it sprayed a crimson mist on the ground beneath him. Charsy couldn’t believe her eyes; she had no idea that Malik was this fast. Thinking about it for a moment, Malik could have killer her at any time when she attempted her first assassination attempt. Malik was way out of Charsy’s league.

“Do you see that, thief? Malik must not have been focusing very hard. He was aiming for your neck!” Kaylop said. As he said this to the thief, the three heard the sound of clashing steal and blood curdling screams. Jasper just looked at his hand now covered in blood from his shoulder. He looked down at Kaylop in disbelief and then back behind him. What he saw stunned him so much that he fell backward to his bottom, sitting on the top of the rock with his back to Kaylop and Charsy. There before him was the sight of his slain men and Malik standing in the center of them, a blood stained sword in his hand.

Looking back at the thief, Malik just pointed at him, a look of judgment in his eyes. Fox just looked down in horror. All he saw in Malik was death.

“What say you, thief? You can walk away from here alive still. All you need do is leave what you have in that wagon there and you keep your life,” the thief looked at Malik in shear shock. He couldn’t believe it. He was the one that was the thief and here he was, being robbed by the very man he had intended on robbing.

“You…can’t do that! I worked hard for those goods, damnit!” the man sighed. “Very well, take it. I will not stop you. Just don’t kill me,” Jasper pleaded pathetically. Malik just smiled and walked over to the wagon and moved out off the path, jumping down to meet with Kaylop and Charsy again. Charsy looked shocked.

“I didn’t know you were that skilled,” She said in disbelief. Malik just smiled and put Mitu-Rahzi back in it’s coverings.

“What can I say, I have been trained well,” Malik smiled and looked at Kaylop. Kaylop just smiled behind his beard and patted the boy on the head.

“Let us keep moving. Now that we have a wagon we can get there in half the time,” Charsy looked over a Kaylop.

“We are stealing his wagon?!” Charsy said.

“Yeah, we are. That guy was prepared to kill us for a few gold pieces. I think that justifies us taking his wagon. Anyway, this belongs to the King, not him,” Malik said, sounding a little patriotic for a moment. “But we might have to get rid of those crates and keep the rations out of covering. We don’t want the royal guard to the WE took them.”

As the three mounted up and rode off, Malik heard a voice crying out from behind them. Looking back, Malik saw a man in studded leather armor and a cloak over his head and shoulders. Stopping, Malik was interested to hear what this man that was traveling with the thieves wanted.

“Oh, thank the gods you stopped. You said your name was Malik Pivval, right?” the man asked. Malik looked confused.

“Yeah, it is. Why?” Malik asked the man.

“My name is Aaron Wright of Kalestia. I am an adventurer and rogue extraordinaire,” the man said, bowing to the three. Malik just raised an eye brow.

“Sounds to me like you’re a thief,”

“No, no…I prefer the term ‘rogue’,”

“Either way, why should I trust a guy that was working for Fox?”

“You misunderstand the situation. I was merely traveling with those fellows to have a little adventure. Now that they are out of commission, I am interested in traveling with you three. If you truly are Malik the Mad then there is great potential to have a very great adventure while traveling with you!” Aaron said. Malik just shook his head.

“No, I don’t need another hitch hiker,” Malik said.

“Hay!” Charsy said. Kaylop just looked at the adventurer before them and then at Malik.

“We may want to consider his companionship, Malik. You never know when a rogue might come in handy,” Kaylop whispered to Malik. Malik just snorted, thinking for a moment.

“Alright, fine. You can join up with us but don’t cause any trouble for me, got it? I have enough problems as it is!” Malik sighed. Aaron just smiled and jumped into the back of the wagon.

“You won’t regret this, friend!” he commented.

“I better not,” Malik said to himself, whipping the horses to move. The adventure began anew as the numbers of travelers increased. Malik thought about how it would work out with four strangers traveling together so tightly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The adventurers had come to a clearing in the woods and decided to bunk down for the night. It had been a while since Malik trusted two complete strangers around him while he slept. In his mind, it was only because of Kaylop. The two trusted each other greatly and even Aaron could see that the two had a long history together.

“So, Mr. Malik, what brings you to the road?” Aaron said as the four sat around the camp fire. Malik just looked at him as he sharpened Agui.

“I have been on the road for most of my life. But this time I have a destination pre-selected,” Malik said. Aaron seemed genuinely interested. This fact concerned Malik as he was never used to ‘casual’ conversations with new people.

“What location are we headed to then?” Aaron didn’t seem to concerned that he didn’t know the destination.

“We are headed to the capital, Aaron,” Charsy said. Aaron nodded to the lady in thanks.

“Hmmm…I have some friends in the capital. Maybe I can show you guys a good time while we are there?!” Aaron offered. Malik just looked at him and stopped sharpening.

“I have a question for you, Aaron…why are you so friendly? Especially to complete strangers. Just hours ago you were traveling with a band of thieves and now you take to traveling with a wanted man, a troublesome girl, and a renown wizard. What is it you are after?” Malik asked. Kaylop looked at Malik as if he was spitting on the king’s boots.

“Well…actually…I am sort of an outlaw myself. In the capital they called me ‘The Raven’. I made a name for myself as a sort of vigilante. Not only that but I got a lot of things placed on me for my nature,” Aaron sounded a little disconcerted.

“So you are ‘The Raven’, eh? I have always wondered what your motives were,” Kaylop said. Aaron put his hand on the back of his head and laughed a little.

“Yeah, I guess I was construed as sort of a strange hero. But the Pillith Guard didn’t like me. They thought I was after something big or that I was some kind of renowned bandit. All that happened was me being in the wrong place at the right time. The only reason I got that foolish nickname was because of my tattoo,” Aaron rolled his sleeve up to reveal a tattoo of a raven feather, the widely known symbol of a rogue.

“So you’re a real rogue then? I just thought you were a fake,” Malik said. The rogues are a different type of adventurer. They were probably the only ‘thieves’ guild that Levvia had. Rogues are known as the ‘jacks of all trades’. They can sing, pickpockets, fight, and even do infiltration and reconnaissance missions. Anything a person wants done, the rogues can do…for a price.

“Yup, I sure am. Been a member for nearly my whole life. I guess I picked up most the skills needed to be a rogue as an orphan living on the streets of Pillith City,” Malik was surprised at the proud look Aaron gave when he said this.

“You sound awfully proud at that fact,” Malik said, trying not to sound TOO rude.

“Yeah, I was taught to be. My only parent was my guild leader and he always told me to be proud of my natural born gift of the arts,” Aaron said. Kaylop smiled.

“I have always wondered how the guild leaders worked. You were taken in off the streets and put to work as a rogue. Sounds like slavery to me,” Kaylop said, looking at Aaron. Aaron shifted in place.

“Well…I wasn’t put to work like a slave. I was brought there because of my natural born gift. Nothing I did I didn’t enjoy and nothing I did I EVER regretted. I am a proud guild member and I would never let anything change that,” Kaylop wasn’t convinced. He just shrugged and let the man believe what he wanted.

Aaron wasn’t a large man. He stood at about five feet six inches; next to nothing next to Malik’s six foot five inch frame. He was even comparatively smaller then Charsy. He also had very little muscle mass. Relying solely on his ability to be unseen and unheard, Aaron was not much of a warrior. Even his dagger wasn’t much of a weapon, but more a tool. It had a hollow stock and held a great deal of different sized lock-picks. The blade was curved forward instead of reverse and the blade was coated in a black, stainless paint. He fiddled with it at the campfire, opening the stock every now and again.

“So why are you even here, Aaron? I mean, why did you travel with those lowlifes when you are a rogue?” Charsy asked. Aaron just shrugged.

“It sounded like a great adventure. Ever since I left the capital I have been looking for an adventure truly worthy of a rogue,” Aaron said proudly. “I guess its just curiosity!”

“More like a death wish. A kid like you wouldn’t last five minuets out here on his own,” Malik scoffed. Aaron, however offensive the comment was, wasn’t fazed by Malik’s words. He just shrugged.

“I guess that’s why I joined you guys,” he said. Malik gave a convinced nod.

“Point taken. Now, you said that you were a rogue. What is it that distinguishes your from anyone else?” Malik was eager to find out where this man might come in handy.

“Well…I’m trained to pick locks and disarm traps. I can also relieve someone of their purse if I had to. That and I am considerably trained to hit someone where it counts. Like most rogues, I am not physically fit to fight. That’s why we learn real fast how to hit someone where it hurts,” Aaron explained. Kaylop looked up.

“Pressure points?” he suggested. Aaron nodded.

“Yeah, basically. I also know when and how to hit those pressure points,” Malik looked confused.

“WHEN? What do you mean?” Malik asked.

“Well…for instance, when you tighten your shoulders for a powerful strike, the pressure point between your neck and your shoulder has more blood running through it. If you strike it at the pinnacle of the person’s strike you get maximum effectiveness…and a bloody mess,” Aaron added. Malik nodded in approval.

“I’ll have to try that some time,” he said. Kaylop just laughed.

“You see, Malik? You can learn a lot from Aaron,” Kaylop said, patting the man on the back. Aaron just blushed. He had never really taught someone his secrets.

The four all made it off to sleep. Malik was the last to doze off with one eye open. He was surrounded by two people that didn’t care about him and one was ACTUALLY after his head. Malik didn’t worry too much about Charsy, if she was going to kill him it would be during the day. No, what Malik was worried about was the new rogue. He still didn’t trust Aaron fully and probably never would. Finally drifting off to sleep, Malik dreamed about his ashes being spread across the floor by a fiery spell. Malik didn’t get much sleep that night.



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_________________
Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I know of no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot…
My DD site...READ MY COMICS!