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.
I have divided the dark
"It is here… but can this really be called silence." Murky eyes gazed upon rows of machines, armies. Troops of unwavering will.
The protectors pointed blades to the protected—the weeds. No mercy. No heart to be seen.
Blood slid down pavement; souls returned to earth.
Young were the children, their flesh so very tender, as they moved their appendages in the sea of flames.
Mothers clutched their throats for air. Puppets on strings, they floated, fish on hooks; remains dangled.
Fathers held a head, kneeling—hollow whites poised upon a bleeding neck.
"The-these, these people…" stammered a voice, a dim figure hidden in the shadows. "These beasts."
"Oh Diviners, I doubt your information. It's bloody bout to kill me."
A mop of hair peeked out, the shadowed face of Eltic unveiled. His left hand wielded a dagger in reverse grip.
"No, even better. Yanza is cornered. He is a beast, bleeding. Teeth yanked. Neck on a plate."