An Untitled Fantasy Prelude
The sound of rain dropping to the weathered pavement from the black sky could be heard for miles. Lightning flashed in the distance, with thunder following seconds later. The landscape was barren, without any trees, without any buildings or any sense that there should be something standing above the ground. Structures that can only be described as large hundred-foot tall spears were erected every so often around the landscape; electricity raged from their tips toward the heavens. Other than the large spears that reached for the sky, only pavement remained; one single road that stretched both forward and backward as far as the eye could see, the ground otherwise covered in black sand. The pavement’s color made it hard to distinguish from the skyline, forever tarnished with soot. Only one being dared to contrast with the flatness.
This man stood about six feet tall, drenched a black cloak. The cloak had made best friends with the ground; it did not drag, but there was almost no space between the cloak’s end and the ground below it. Six black buttons lined the front of the cloak, sealing its wearer inside. His feet could not be seen, making the figure look like it had the ability to hover above the ground. His arms hung from the shoulders, long tubes of cloth. His hands could not be seen, only the sleeves. And his head was enveloped in the blackness of the cloak as well; a hood came above and over his head, stopping only above what one could assume was the man’s eyeline, so he may see. With no significant light source in sight, the hood’s inside was blackened as well.
He walked down the everlasting road in impossible silence. The figure was in a meditative state, clearly thinking. The rain rolled down the cloak, unable to moisten it with its dampness, and quietly trickled to the pavement. Another light show erupted in front of the man, and thunder, this time following closer. He paused for a moment, pausing his journey westward. The pitter-patter of the rain continued to fall, making black puddles in the sand, and making the road slick to continue walking on. A minute passed, and the cloaked figure stood still. The sound of the rain was less constant, it sounded like the rain was beginning to let up. The man brought his head to look at the sky. The charcoal sky was beginning to brighten to a dull gray. The storm seemed to be over as the rain stopped. Then, everything went black. No sky, no ground, no cloak could be seen.
A bolt of lightning pierced the air, meeting with the pavement feet in front of the cloak. The landscape was lit for a split second. The man looked at where the bolt struck and saw encapsulated in the electricity a figure with silver hair. Another crack could be heard as a bolt destroyed the pavement behind the man. He swerved as quick as he could to try and see the figure again, but as lightning is, it was gone. He was now breathing heavily, unknowing of what to expect next in the pitch black. But before he had any chance for his mind to wander further, he heard above him an incredible crackle as a bolt of lightning streamed down from the sky directly to the spot he was standing on.
The man in the black cloak was launched backwards, stunned and in a daze. He tried to see his attacker, but could not muster the energy to move his head as he was flying away from the source of the lightning. He was startled when he hit the ground, as he could not see where it was, and thus could not judge when he was finished with his flight. He slid for another twenty or so feet before he slowly came to a stop.
The black-cloaked figure could not move; he was incapacitated from the electrical surge that went through his body. A minute passed, and his attacker had not come to finish him. He finally had the strength to lift his neck from its parallel position with the ground to look forward. It was no use; the only thing to be seen was blackness. It was as if someone shut the world’s light off with the flick of a switch.
The mysterious man attempted to stand up. He rolled onto his knees, and brought his left foot to meet the ground. Standing, wounded, the man waited. Then the faintest bit of light came from above. It looked like a star, glowing magnificent in the sky. But stars did not leave streaks in the sky, or move this fast. The light grew brighter and larger, and as it was about to hit him, the man brought his shoulder back, making his hand a fist inside his cloak, and he brought it down with all of his might to the ground, where he punched a hole at least half a foot deep into the pavement.
A ripple in the air made a dome shape around the man, encompassing him in a protective bubble of energy. The lightning rammed into it, electricity spraying in every direction as it pummeled the dome’s north pole. The cloaked figure looked up and for a moment thought that he saw what he had only seen in a dream – blue sky. But this was not sky; he was staring into the two sky-blue eyes of his attacker. She was bathed electricity, as if it was her clothing. Their eyes were locked in an understanding of mutual hate. There was no reason to this hate, not yet. The landscape was brighter than it had been in many years now. The electricity woman jumped backward off the shield and shot her arms outwards, bolts of energy shooting in every direction from her fingertips. The hooded man stood up, the shield evaporating.
Two things happened at the same time. The woman brought her outstretched hands together in a clap, shooting bolts of pure energy straight at the man. The man in the black cloak reached for one of the buttons on the front of his cloak and snapped it off. He brought his arm back, and a purple energy emanated from his hand. As his arm came forward, a purple sphere of energy with a black core left his hand; growing larger the more distance it traveled.
The purple and white energy met in the exact middle of the two figures. A bright explosion of light emanated from the clash, blinding temporarily both of the figures. Then the bright white quickly faded to a deep purple as the orb of energy swallowed the electricity, only further intensifying the sphere’s size. Before the woman could move, the ball of sheer power greeted her, electrifying and burning her, then throwing her straight backwards. Then she hit something, and stopped suddenly. It felt as if someone erected a brick wall in the middle of the road; she was traveling straight backwards. It was dark now, only the electricity that encompassed her body gave any light, and even that was dimmer than before. She felt two hands, one on each of her shoulders. They spun her around in place, in an about-face. She stared up to see the cloaked man, there, right in front of her. It had to be at least a thousand feet she had traveled, probably more. And he had moved faster than her.
She looked up into the black hole, where his face should have been. Her gaze only met blackness. Still in his grasp, she attempted to bring her right hand, charging a ball of electricity in the palm of her hand, above her waist to try and get one shot at him. She screamed as she let the ball go, careening at his head. It was deflected by the black hole, but not before a flash lit up the inside of his hood for a brief second. She saw a pair of golden eyes staring at her, and a frown of disgust. Her sky blue eyes widened when she saw what was revealed to her. Then she let out a slight whimper of fear.
“Stupid *****,” the man’s deep, bass voice escaped from the hood. His right elbow arched back, a transparent purple blade appearing at the end. It slid down his arm toward where his hand should be, and with his left arm, he grasped the woman by her lower neck, and the purple blade of energy sliced her throat. She crumpled to the ground, lifeless, her sky-blue eyes forever staring toward the charcoal sky. The hooded man turned around, and continued walking.