Hemophants Prologue

I started this story as the prologue to a longer story I was writing 3 years ago. I decided to dig this out, finish it and post it. I think it’s a good start to my YWS career: P Feel free to criticize. Hopefully, I’ll continue this story: D

“Climb, stop, breath” were the only three words that were in his mind. In a constant cycle, a gate forever closed to keep out distraction. One wrong thought and he would plummet to his death. “Climb, stop, breath” went the cycle.

Baroque shuddered as another cold breeze swept over his body, causing him to stop. He welcomed the pause. He wanted to ask himself “how long have I been climbing” but he couldn’t, “climb, stop, breath” was all he could think. Finally, after one last moment of exhaustion he continued upward. One bruised hand and then another; Baroque wanted to say “almost there” but he didn’t.

The cycle of thought continued for almost an hour before Baroque’s left hand found what he thought was a flat ledge. He slowly pulled himself through the fog, and stood on the flat apex that was the top of Mt. Door. “Oh my god” he whispered while smiling to himself, not wanting to disturb the deep serenity. He had made it! After five days of climbing he had done it! “Now…” Baroque stepped onto a circle carved in the ground in front of him, and watched as the thick fog that shrouded the mountaintop was sucked into the etch mark, reveling the structures all around him. Twelve, tall, vine covered pillars stood before him in a crescent shape. The open side of the crescent was facing him, and in its center an intricate design lay on the ground, made up of quickly moving shapes, constantly shifting and pulsating with a green aura.

Baroque turned around and looked out across the landscape that could be seen entirely from his height. He could see the valley that he had trekked across so long ago, he could see the city of Luster sitting on the horizon, glistening in the dawn rays, he watched the River of Blood winding its way across the valley and remembered how his people had once lived on its banks, he looked out at the homeland he would probably never see again.

“Hello Baroque, its beautiful isn’t it” came a voice from behind him that killed the small rays of light that were creeping across the peak. Baroque slowly turned around to see a completely black bird perched on one of the stone pillars, and even though its eyes were closed it seemed to be staring directly at him. “Paschal….” Baroque shakily responded. “Yes…it is a beautiful sight” Paschal continued “from here you can see the entire mountainside”

“Yes your right” responded Baroque “Now why are you here?”

“For you of course Baroque, you have to go back” said Paschal

“No!” screamed Baroque “I can’t…”

“Do you think you’ll save them by doing this?”

“Maybe” answered the young boy with a small uncertain smile

Paschal’s face morphed into a cruel smirk “I’ll kill you before you get through that door”

“Show me then”

“You’ve made your choice” replied Paschal as he raised his wings and fire rained from the sky

Baroque dogged the bolts of flame with inhuman speed, constantly running over the cycle in his mind “breathe, see, release” He saw the power Paschal generated, saw that power materialize seconds before it appeared and sped toward him, that was the only way he ever fought. But Paschal wasn’t stupid, he knew this style of fighting, that’s why he was fighting with his eyes closed to better concentrate on his cycle. “Then why bother with these meaningless attacks” Baroque said out loud, he slipped from his cycle and was thrown backward into a stone pillar by a lick of fire. “Hmm….” The bird drew in the smoke that lingered from the attacks and exhaled a stream of fire in Baroques direction. Back against a pillar, Baroque prepared his cycle “Breathe, see, release” and swatted the great fire ball, only to see a ball of magic flying toward him on the tailwind of the fir ball “Your mantras won’t save you now!” screamed Paschal with a smile on his face and a look of sick joy in his now wide open eyes.

Baroque tried to duck but instead only succeeded in getting side swiped. He grunted with pain as he stood up and gripped his now bleeding arm. Above him, spinning in front of the black bird was a dagger; the birds’ crazed eyes followed it hypnotically “This dagger…will go through your heart” suddenly the dagger was shooting downwards. Baroque looked directly at it as the seconds sped by and time slowed. As the dagger came towards its target, Baroque through forward the handful of blood that had rolled into his clenched fist, he watched as a crimson colored shield formed before him, he watched as the dagger ricocheted of the shield and sped back towards its master and logged itself in its masters chest. A terrible shriek echoed across the mountaintop as Paschal burst into flame and fizzled into nothingness. An eerie silence echoed in the remains of the battle that had occurred on the mountaintop as Baroque smiled up at the sun that was now full raised in the sky.

“Breathe, pause, walk” were the only three words that formed in his mind as he walked toward the pulsating, shifting gateway. A gate forever closed to keep out distraction. He wanted to say goodbye to the world he may never see again, but he didn’t.