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.
How it all started II
Two figures fell rapidly through a narrow space, maneuvering around numerous obstacles, creating distortions in the air by sheer speed and momentum.
They'd moved, twisted, and turned. In this mechanical pit of darkness and steel, the criminal duo was kings, monarchs. Masters of the art and the most skilled of the skilled.
Both of them soon noticed the reflective silver ground. It's sight enlarged by the minute, and the darkness from distance faded.
Jargon sped, diving forth in a blue.
A smirk flashed on his face, excitement rising in his heart. He glimpsed back in mockery, roaring out slurs, daring for Neth to respond.
However, upon seeing his partner's uncaring expression, an almost insulting one even, he became enraged.
Jargon reacted by whispering the words 'Weakling' in a way that Neth could hear.
Neth's expression contorted, scowling. He glared at Jargon, eyes like daggers.