Prologue: Midnight Murder
Midnight, Aswalle City:
The skyscrapers glittered as they reflected the light coming from the cars and shops below. Three people stood on top of the skyscraper. One was shrouded by a hooded cloak. Another was leaning over the edge of the building, her long, straight hair blowing around in the breeze. The third, shorter than the others, was sitting on an air conditioning duct, waving at something indistinct in the air. On the building across, wearing all black and holding a camera, was a reporter. According to the reflective badge pinned to his chest, he was Executive Head Reporter. He had built his career on hunting and writing about urban myths. There was only one which interested him at that precise moment in time. That was the myth of the Alchemists. The Alchemists were, apparently, a group of teenagers cursed to protect the Earth until Judgment Day. They were gifted with the powers over the nine sacred elements, Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Shadow, Light, Mind, Blood and Spirit. The reporter had been given an anonymous tip that said that if he waited on the rooftop, he might finally get the big break he had been looking for.
His train of thought was interrupted when a flapping sound filled the air and a shadowy figure emerged from the clouds. The man adjusted his position and poised the camera in his hand. Out of the clouds came a dragon. The reporter nearly fell off the wall. He had never seen a real life dragon before, only phonies. There were two more people on its back. One looked like they were extremely confident, standing up in between the huge wings of the dragon. The other seemed to be holding on for dear life around the dragon’s neck. The one sitting on the air conditioner waved at the person standing up and they waved back. There were five now. The reporter closed his gaping mouth, quickly checked his notes. He frowned. There were supposed to be nine people on the skyscraper tonight, four of them were missing. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought the shadows on the roof seemed to get darker. That was when something grabbed him by the leg and he was suddenly hoisted off the ground dropping his camera, his notes and his voice recorder over the edge of the building. He swore loudly and looked in dismay as his things became tiny specks in the distance.
“Now really, is that any way to be talking in front of women?” A taunting male voice came from the darkness.
“Don’t you know it’s not the smartest idea to try and spy on us at night when one of us is the Guardian of the night?” A female voice asked from right near the reporters left ear. The reporter gasped and looked up at his foot. A coiling, pulsating mass of shadows was all that was keeping him up. He opened his mouth to yell but was caught by a jet of water which appeared from nowhere.
“That’s not the smartest idea mate.” Came a different female voice, “Shadowess, could you please lower your shadows so he has something to look at?” The female which was supposedly closest to him snarled in anger. The darkness which had surrounded the reporter lifted and four people were standing there. The girl who was closest to him seemed to be surrounded by the shadows and had her left hand in the air. The boy who was standing next to her was surrounded by a coiling mass of thick, red liquid, and he seemed to be the eldest. On the other side of him were two girls. One could not be any older than 12, she looked like she was off in her own world, and didn’t want to be there. The other girl was too far away to distinguish from his new vantage point, upside down. The girl closest to him lowered her hand and the shadows around the reporter’s foot disappeared and he dropped from the sky. He landed with a thud on his head. His legs got caught on his camera tripod and it opened up a three inch deep gash on his right calf. Blood trickled in a thin line down his forehead and his leg begun to bleed profusely. The boy took a step towards him,
“Ouch, we can’t let that blood escape can we? Here, let me help you with that.” With a wave of his hand, the reporter felt the blood lift from his face and his leg became considerably lighter. The blood began to drift toward the boy’s hand, where it joined the rest of the blood circling his head.
The reporter gasped,
“Y-you’re the Blood Alchemist!”
The boy smiled, “How long did that take ya? Now, before you black out, we’d like to ask you a few questions.”
The girl to the Blood Guardian’s right snorted, “Oh c’mon Blair, why interrogate him when we already know what he’s here for and who he works for, because we sent the tip, so can we just go? I want to beat up some bad guys.”
Blair, the Blood Alchemist, ignored the girl and turned to the reporter. The reporter was scrambling to support himself against the stone of the wall. He stared into the crimson red of his eyes. Something very hard struck the back of his head. Lights blinked before his eyes and he didn’t even feel the razor sharp metal which pierced his heart and ended his life.
