The child fell to his knees, out of breath and ees spread wide. He dropped the sword to the ground beside him. His head shot back, and he sreamed out in pain, though his body untouched by the Devil's blade. Tears poured forth from his eyes and his throat continued the ear peircing howl. The Devil stood where he was chuckling to himself with an evil look on his face. The horned Hellspawn knelt down to the ground and picked up the boy's blade, sheating it at his own waist. The child shouted out once more, crying "Noooo!!", as he lunged forward for the sword, only to grasp at thin air. He looked down, and in place of the sword his father had given him the Demon had left his own silver blade. The sword was thin no more then an inch in width. A ruby gleamed in the silver hilt, in the center of the crossguard, surrounded by an inricate design of stems and thorns. The handle itself looked as if to be made of vines, spiraling and circling to the pommel, where they joined into a single rose bloom. Mikeal slowly lifted the sword, and an overwhelming feeling of completion filled his entirety. A wisp of smoe floated y his face, and he quickly looked down at the source. Burnt into the stone of the floor was a message, addressed to Mikeal. It read: 'Mikeal. My name is Reine. Memorize it, for I shall approach you once more in exactly thirteen years. Train well. I look forward to our next battle.' The boy stood silently, thinking to himself, *Mother's murderer wants a rematch. I shan't lose again!*
This is part 2 of my story, titled:
A Torn Wing, A Shattered Blade
gimme your criticism, brutally
x3
Close my eyes, spread my arms, and release.
Lose myself in the music, in the wind and the sky.
Let rest these wings and rely on the human emotions that make us who we are.
Let my true nature become me.
Let my Incarnation take over.
Let me become Apathy.[/align:392e43b740][/color:392e43b740][/size:392e43b740]
 Doctor Hopeless · Sat Sep 20, 2008 @ 02:49am · 3 Comments |
