Arcanist Tales
“The tale never ends, until a hero conquers the demons. May science and will prevail.” *** Alistair Neon Percival. The True Apostle of the Luminiferous Aêther, The Reckless, The Defender of all Beings, Self proclaimed king of emotional blackmail, Reborn in the year 1980 NC. His goal? To be the strongest and attain all magical, scientific, and economical knowledge in the world! However, with the flames of war staining the vast world, soldiers bidding their family farewell, and kingdoms of the realm butting heads to see who has the biggest stick. Institutions on the rise, large and small, each competing for benefits while experimenting on the common populace in the name of science. This is the tales of the Alistair, the practitioner of all things Arcane and most especially. The Apostle Of Aether. Note: contains strong themes of violence, real world knowledge, and slightly opinionated narration.
All I need in this life of sin... is fire
Fear lurked in beating hearts; danger reared its head before eyes. It appeared as silence—the strange ambience before a tornado struck.
Alistair held a knife to the beggar's throat; his arms shook because of tense nerves. However, this beggar wielded no fear, as those eyes reflected only a void, a dead inside disposition evoked by an abhorrent life.
"Kill me, anyways; no one will care," the hopeless man moved closer, allowing the blade's edge to scrape his uvula. "I've long been abandoned to rot!"
He stared straight into Alistair's eyes, daring him without uttering a word. But, all that met him was a gaze devoid of emotions, and he understood.
"I guess you too have been abandoned to rot, huh?"
The welcoming smile tugged at Alistair's beating heart. In pain, he let go of the beggar with a warning, "Scram and never come back." Without a moment wasted, the homeless man dashed out of the warehouse, fading from the trio's sight.