Warpedhero
Warped Hero
- Joined
- Jul 21, 2008
- Messages
- 250
- Reaction score
- 45
- Points
- 80
A Little Story: Maze (MILD SWEARING)
"You b*st*rd!" The Orphan stabbed the old mage in the stomach.
Maze's guts spilled out onto the ground.
"Stop!" screamed the wizard.
"Hell with you!"
The bloody blade sliced across leathery skin, leaving the now kneeling mage with a bleeding throat.
"Damn it boy!" said the dying mage, the words partially mumbled by the blood gurgling
in his mouth. "I had to. He's too strong."
The younger man gave his old friend a bewildered look.
"Don't you have any faith in me? Look at me!"
Maze eyed The Orphan and reconsidered his position. He spat blood onto the snow and doubled over in pain, bile flowing steadily onto the ground as he coughed. He recovered from his bout of coughing, but was still much too weak to rise.
"You don't understand. He's not a man."
Blood, bile, and mucus spilled out of the wizard's mouth as he attempted to push himself up.
He fell on his face.
The Orphan cut some cloth from his shoulder cape and wrapped it around Maze's throat, tying it tight.
"What were you doing back there?" asked The Orphan.
"It's an old kingdom ritual," answered Maze, sighing.
"Where's my sister?" asked The Orphan, his anger fading.
"Jack took her."
The Orphan wiped the sweat from the mage's brow.
"Where?"
"I'm not sure. One of the focus sites."
"What?" asked The Orphan; he had no idea what a 'focus site' was.
Maze coughed.
"The focus sites..the Archon designed them. They were built during the days
of the old kingdom."
"What do they look like?"
"No doubt you've seen them, they're those large round stones with the runes carved in them. They're quite eroded now but they are still usable."
The Orphan helped Maze to his feet.
"Why wasn't this in any of the books I studied in the Guild?"
"They don't tell you everything, you know. Some information is not suitable for apprentices."
The Orphan helped Maze into his house.
"Sit down, old friend."
Maze slumped into a large wooden chair beside the fireplace.
"My wounds are mortal."
"I know."
The Orphan looked down at his sword. The blood was beginning to dry on it.
"You were one of the few apprentices that showed promise."
Maze clutched his stomach.
"You haven't forgotten anything," said The Orphan, putting his hand on the old wizard's shoulder.
"Well, some things are hard to forget."
The Orphan wiped the blood from his sword with a piece of cloth and resheathed it.
"Why did Jack kidnap my mother?" he asked, taking a seat beside Maze.
"He wants a sword."
The Orphan was about to speak, but Maze cut him off.
"He wants his sword."
Jack of Blades dragged Theresa by the hair to Greatwood Lake.
"Ouch!" she screamed.
She had bitten his arm, thinking he would let her go, but she bit down on iron armour. Her mouth was now bleeding from the cut on her lip, and she had lost one of her front teeth. She spat blood on him.
"Don't worry, Theresa, it won't stain. It's red anyway."
The red-robed knave drew his katana and whacked away the brush barring him from the
first focus site. Branches and thorns and thistles flew through the air as he worked
his way to the site.
Jack swung his katana in a sharp circle and Theresa lost her footing. Jack grabbed her by the back of her shirt, breaking her fall.
"Ugh."
Jack flung her against the huge boulder, knocking her out cold. He stuck his katana in the ground and touched the palm of his hand to the runes in the middle of the stone and began to recite the incantation.
"Power of old.."
"May your arms become as stone, and may you ward off evil forever from these shores", said Maze, blessing The Orphan.
"Thank you, Maze."
Maze's head tilted backwards as his life flashed before his eyes. He remembered how, as a child, his parents would walk with him through the woods near Bowerstone. He remembered how the Balverines ripped them apart. He saw a masked face. It was Jack of Blades, the Remnant of Antiquity. The mage
recalled how Jack killed the Balverines and saved his life. He also recalled how Jack
slew his companions. The old wizard felt tears flowing down his cheeks. He remembered
leading the Guild Revolution, with his old friend Weaver. How they had given him
the title of Grandmaster.
The mage's life was fleeting. He felt very light. His pain was gone.
He walked out into the sunlight and collapsed.
The Orphan put his mentor's body into a small boat, covered the body with straw, and set it on fire.
As the flaming vessel drifted out to sea, The Orphan clutched Maze's jeweled clasp in his hand as a tear fell
on it. "Sleep well, old friend."
"You b*st*rd!" The Orphan stabbed the old mage in the stomach.
Maze's guts spilled out onto the ground.
"Stop!" screamed the wizard.
"Hell with you!"
The bloody blade sliced across leathery skin, leaving the now kneeling mage with a bleeding throat.
"Damn it boy!" said the dying mage, the words partially mumbled by the blood gurgling
in his mouth. "I had to. He's too strong."
The younger man gave his old friend a bewildered look.
"Don't you have any faith in me? Look at me!"
Maze eyed The Orphan and reconsidered his position. He spat blood onto the snow and doubled over in pain, bile flowing steadily onto the ground as he coughed. He recovered from his bout of coughing, but was still much too weak to rise.
"You don't understand. He's not a man."
Blood, bile, and mucus spilled out of the wizard's mouth as he attempted to push himself up.
He fell on his face.
The Orphan cut some cloth from his shoulder cape and wrapped it around Maze's throat, tying it tight.
"What were you doing back there?" asked The Orphan.
"It's an old kingdom ritual," answered Maze, sighing.
"Where's my sister?" asked The Orphan, his anger fading.
"Jack took her."
The Orphan wiped the sweat from the mage's brow.
"Where?"
"I'm not sure. One of the focus sites."
"What?" asked The Orphan; he had no idea what a 'focus site' was.
Maze coughed.
"The focus sites..the Archon designed them. They were built during the days
of the old kingdom."
"What do they look like?"
"No doubt you've seen them, they're those large round stones with the runes carved in them. They're quite eroded now but they are still usable."
The Orphan helped Maze to his feet.
"Why wasn't this in any of the books I studied in the Guild?"
"They don't tell you everything, you know. Some information is not suitable for apprentices."
The Orphan helped Maze into his house.
"Sit down, old friend."
Maze slumped into a large wooden chair beside the fireplace.
"My wounds are mortal."
"I know."
The Orphan looked down at his sword. The blood was beginning to dry on it.
"You were one of the few apprentices that showed promise."
Maze clutched his stomach.
"You haven't forgotten anything," said The Orphan, putting his hand on the old wizard's shoulder.
"Well, some things are hard to forget."
The Orphan wiped the blood from his sword with a piece of cloth and resheathed it.
"Why did Jack kidnap my mother?" he asked, taking a seat beside Maze.
"He wants a sword."
The Orphan was about to speak, but Maze cut him off.
"He wants his sword."
Jack of Blades dragged Theresa by the hair to Greatwood Lake.
"Ouch!" she screamed.
She had bitten his arm, thinking he would let her go, but she bit down on iron armour. Her mouth was now bleeding from the cut on her lip, and she had lost one of her front teeth. She spat blood on him.
"Don't worry, Theresa, it won't stain. It's red anyway."
The red-robed knave drew his katana and whacked away the brush barring him from the
first focus site. Branches and thorns and thistles flew through the air as he worked
his way to the site.
Jack swung his katana in a sharp circle and Theresa lost her footing. Jack grabbed her by the back of her shirt, breaking her fall.
"Ugh."
Jack flung her against the huge boulder, knocking her out cold. He stuck his katana in the ground and touched the palm of his hand to the runes in the middle of the stone and began to recite the incantation.
"Power of old.."
"May your arms become as stone, and may you ward off evil forever from these shores", said Maze, blessing The Orphan.
"Thank you, Maze."
Maze's head tilted backwards as his life flashed before his eyes. He remembered how, as a child, his parents would walk with him through the woods near Bowerstone. He remembered how the Balverines ripped them apart. He saw a masked face. It was Jack of Blades, the Remnant of Antiquity. The mage
recalled how Jack killed the Balverines and saved his life. He also recalled how Jack
slew his companions. The old wizard felt tears flowing down his cheeks. He remembered
leading the Guild Revolution, with his old friend Weaver. How they had given him
the title of Grandmaster.
The mage's life was fleeting. He felt very light. His pain was gone.
He walked out into the sunlight and collapsed.
The Orphan put his mentor's body into a small boat, covered the body with straw, and set it on fire.
As the flaming vessel drifted out to sea, The Orphan clutched Maze's jeweled clasp in his hand as a tear fell
on it. "Sleep well, old friend."
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