Tuesday, February 23, 2010

The Legend of Sylph Stridemoon - Chapter 3 - Stand and Fall

For those of you following along, here is chapter 3. Enjoy.


Sparing no time in their assault, they immediately rushed Sylph much like the first thief.

"Ah, they seek an encore," Sylph taunted aloud, and began parrying the incoming onslaught of haphazard slashes and spins. The men were faltering... not only because of their lack of combat prowess, but their astonishment at Sylph's seemingly non-human agility.

Taking advantage of holes in their attack patterns, Sylph managed to disable each man with one swooping, elliptical slash.

"You're making this far too easy, Gustach," he taunted once more. Gustach, however, stood there grinning. He didn't say a word; he simply snapped his fingers a second time. The number of minions that attacked him the first time was now increased by a factor of three. Two of them again had the same pair of ring blades; the others wielded swords and short spears. Sylph slowly backed away, feigning trepidation.

"Again, Gustach. You are making this far too easy."
Sylph eyed the group before him, all the while tapping into the destructive energy of the Ether. Stretching out his offhand and raising it to the sky, he manifested the energy in lightning bolts that easily found their targets in the group before him. They all fell at once. Their bodies, sprawled on the ground, emitted faint traces of smoke.

Gustach clapped twice. "I'm impressed, mage. You are quite the showman. I'm afraid, however, that I am going to have to ask you to take your bow. If you do not, then I must again warn that there will be dire consequences."

"I'm assuming that you're ordering me to surrender, which can mean one of two things. Either you think you can overpower a Red Mage of the Royal Order, or you're actually intimidated. Take your pick."

Gustach scowled at this retort. "This ends now." He snapped his fingers twice in succession, and this time a single slender figure emerged from the crowd brandishing a peculiar weapon. It was actually a little taller than the entity that wielded it; a curved pole with a long, deadly curved blade at one end. The other end was sharpened to a point. Its wielder was fully wrapped in shadow, or black garments, or something... Sylph couldn't tell. He attempted to keep his concentration on the figure's eyes, the only revealed portion of the body. They were red, like the others, but they were strangely alluring. Given the body structure of the figure, Sylph deduced that they were indeed feminine.

The dark group surrounded the pair, but left plenty of room for battle. This was no longer just a demonstration; it was a concert.
The shadow fighter was the first in an attempt to strike... the weapon had a longer reach than Sylph had expected. Had he not dodged in time, his bowels would have gushed out.

His dodges, counterattacks, and spells seemed to be useless... even after succeeding with a freezing blast to the shadow fighter's leg, she broke free and continued her assault. It was as if she had all the energy in the world to spare.

Sylph, however, did not. Tapping into the Ether too many times ate away at his will to continue fighting. His rapier was far too short to get inside the range of the weapon that the shadow fighter brandished.

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his back. Everything went dark. The Ether no longer pulsed.

...had he lost?
Did he give up?

He did not see her strike...
...Gustach...
...the village...

________________________________________

Sylph awakened later on... he did not know how much time had passed. He was lying on the ground, yet he could not open his eyes. He still felt the pain in his back. He knew that coming to his feet would be difficult, but necessary.

The Ether was quiet.
It was warm.
The temperature was steadily rising.
Sylph finally opened his eyes.
The sky was no longer black, but red, and laden with flying embers.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The Legend of Sylph Stridemoon - Chapter 2 - Incipient Demise

No response so far to the first chapter, but I'll keep up hope that someone's reading this. Here's chapter 2.



"Everyone… hide."
The villagers didn't need to be told twice. They scattered, grabbing the children and quickly retreating to shelter. Sylph remained in the road.

The clouds billowed and the skies grew ever darker until it felt like nightfall, even though it was midday. The Ether pulsed once more, yet again darker. It was a lingering feeling of death, and it began to permeate everything within his immediate vicinity.

Then he saw them... many of them. They approached the town and brought with them a foul, Ethereal stench of death. There were at least twenty; however, this was all he could count from where he was standing in relation to the edge of town. They were all dressed differently, but that is where the uniqueness ended. They were swaddled in robes, rags, and tunics of black and dark brown. Their heads, when not covered by turbans (at least, Sylph thought they were turbans), were covered by short, spiky grey hair. It was their eyes that caught Sylph's attention... they were red. It was both beautiful and haunting at the same time.

The tallest one seemed to lead the pack. He was an elder gentleman, but even with a few signs of aging on his visage, it was apparent by his build that his age was not going to be too much of a factor. He was the first to speak; his voice had a grainy timbre but deep intonation.

"Ah. Just one guardian, is it?"

"This town only needs one guardian," Sylph boasted in reply. "Why are you here? What do you seek with this place?"

The tall one marched the group into the center of town, and not too far away from where Sylph stood. They all eyed him maliciously; Sylph was careful not to return the stares. He kept his luxuriantly plumed hat dipped.

"You have something that we want," the dark one said. "But before that, I think it would be slightly rude not to introduce myself."

"I couldn't agree more," Sylph interrupted with a hint of indignation in his voice.

"I am Gustach, of the Necrati tribe. These are my, uh, comrades," he said, gesturing to the snickering folk to his rear. "And what name does this town's solitary guardian go by, so I may brag of it to my next of kin?" he asked sardonically.

"Sylph Stridemoon, of the Royal Order of Red Mages," Sylph replied, masking rising anger.

"Royalty, is it? Well. I had best watch my step, lest your royal boots be stepped on. Would not want that happening."

Sylph ignored this taunt. "Again I ask you, Gustach. What do you seek with this place?"

"Ah, yes. That. You see, I believe you have something I... we... want."

"I can guarantee you that there is nothing here that could generate the interest of a man of your caliber."

"If that were the case, I would not be standing here before you, no? This may seem very superficial of me, but I'm seeking a gem. A ruby, specifically." Gustach paused and grinned. "Much like the one you have in your possession right now."

Sylph was astonished, and it took all he had to hide this shock. He tested Gustach's claim. "I have no such item. What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't lie to me, Stridemoon. We've only just met. That's bad etiquette, you know. It's right there, in that pouch." Gustach raised a finger, pointing to the very pouch that contained Sylph's new artifact.

"All right, then. Why do you want it?" Sylph replied.

"That, I'm afraid, shall have to wait until another day to be answered. All I can say is that you shall see soon enough. Just hand it over and there will be no trouble."

Sylph didn't trust these people. The Ether pulsed again, and Sylph could sense obvious malicious intent. "You'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands," he said.

"That can be arranged." Gustach snapped his fingers, and a younger man emerged from the mob sporting a shining dagger.

"I'm a professional thief," the young man said, "so your valuable will be relieved from you painlessly. That is, unless, you would like to do this differently."

"Come near me with that thing and you'll not only lose it, but your hand along with it," Sylph threatened back.

This was no empty threat, as the man quickly found out. He lunged at Sylph's waist; Sylph easily sidestepped this clumsy attack. In one quick movement, Sylph brushed aside the cloak that concealed his rapier, unsheathed it, and in one swift, downward stroke, sliced his attacker's hand clean off. The thief screamed in agony.

"That's a shame. Such a beautiful knife you have there, and now you can't even use it," Sylph said nonchalantly.

Gustach was outraged. "Kill him," he commanded, and two other minions appeared from behind him, each wielding a ring blade slightly larger than a tambourine.

Sylph flourished his blade. "Let us dance."



Thursday, February 11, 2010

Our Story Begins

For quite a while now, I've been working on a story that is a part of the Final Fantasy universe. It's called Mage Chronicles, but now that's the name of my blog, so I guess it's now called The Legend of Sylph Stridemoon. It's a fantasy tale about the titular red mage, a powerful and agile spellcaster who harbors a secret so powerful that he must discover it to save his world. I already have 5 chapters in the works, but I think I have an idea of how I want to keep continuing the story. Please have a read, and if you're interested, have any questions, or suggestions/critiques, leave them in the comments below. I've enjoyed writing it so far, and will post subsequent chapters once I know how many readers I have.

So, without further ado, here is chapter 1 of The Legend of Sylph Stridemoon, "Ill Omen".


It was a busy day for the village. The weather was relatively pleasant; it was warm, slightly breezy, and sunny. The ground was damp from a fresh rain the day before. It was not unlike any other day in Glenprice, as every family living there was self-sufficient. They only ate what they could cultivate. Trading between neighbors never ceased. It seemed to pulse with youth; children played in the roads, chasing chickens, rodents, and anything else that always managed to stay one step ahead of them.

A group of kids had gathered in the road, following a man clothed almost entirely in red. His long, white locks of hair caressed a youthful face... despite the color of his hair, his age had not gone past his twenties. He was tall and slender, and walked with a slow but purposeful gait, unhindered by the children almost trampling his heels.

"Please, Sir Stridemoon, tell us again about the Ether!" one cried.

"Yes, yes! That stuff is fascinating. Especially how you set stuff on fire."

"Nuh-uh, it's not as cool as when he turned that bug into a block of ice."

A smirk crossed the man's lips. Whether this was amusement or viciousness could not easily be determined; the brim of his hat was dipped so low, his eyes were nearly invisible. He chuckled and eased the tension.

"The Ether isn't just about casting spells, you know," he said to all of them. The children immediately stopped arguing; it was rare that their mage friend actually started a dialogue. "It is the magical force that binds all. To know it, you must be one with it. Interweave it with every fiber of your being. You must feel it. Taste it."

He was immediately interrupted. "What's it taste like?"

"Shut up, Kento!" came from one of the others. He chuckled again, and the children followed suit in laughter.

"Hey, Sylph!" the old town jeweler called from his shop across the road. The mage quickly bade farewell to the children, who lamented his leave with a collective groan and commenced arguing about his few insights about the Ether.

The jeweler held up a bright red gem, roughly the size of his own fist. "You got yourself a genuine Cornerian ruby here, Sir Stridemoon," the jeweler said, taking another look at it through his magnifying monocle. "It's a large specimen, too. Don't know where you found it, but I've never seen one this big and nearly flawless. There's a few scratches, but they're hardly noticeable." He handed it to Sylph, who immediately pocketed it.

"Thanks, Zoah. How much do I owe you?" he asked, reaching for the money pouch at his waist.

"Your gil is no good here, mage. You're the town guardian... I should be paying you for bringing me such a treasure to look at! Why, that fine gem will fetch you quite a money sack at the Capital Market."

"Heh... I would think so, but this isn't for sale," Sylph replied, patting the other pouch that held the gem. "I've other intents for it."

"Well, do what you like. Personally, I could use the money."

"I am in gratitude for your services, Zoah. Have a pleasant afternoon."
Zoah waved him off and trudged back into his shop.

As Sylph walked down the road back to his abode, he studied the ruby. It had a faint, ethereal glow to it. The Ether showed him that this particular gem radiated a small aura. It was peculiar, to say the very least. In all his travels, he had never seen anything like it. "My friend at the Capital Market may be able to help me utilize this," Sylph said to himself.

As he touched the doorknob to his abode, the Ether suddenly pulsed. Deep, billowing clouds suddenly began to form overhead. He released his hand, and his other gripped the hilt of his rapier. He moved out to the middle of the road. Other villagers noticed his trepidation, and out of curiousity stopped what they were doing to watch him as he bowed his head in concentration. Eventually the other villagers in the vicinity looked skyward, noticing the clouds forming. It was an unusual phenomenon... the skies were clear a few moments ago.

Sylph felt the Ether pulse again.
Stronger.
Darker.
Something's coming...