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.
Shoot!
The drifting wind screeched, sweeping past steel and tin. Loud wails echoed from everywhere; source found nowhere.
The warehouse of gloom and lingering danger twisted the minds within. Their hearts raced inhumanly, drifting on an endless trail of fear. Drenches of sweat stained the floor damp, pilling, never to end.
"They're coming," Alistair said while sitting above the warehouse with legs sprawled. By his sides, Amilia stood at attention and gazed ahead. Her eyes dimmed, cold.
She had also seen the carelessly approaching individuals, less like traders and more so slaves to the task. Like a free kill for the Beheaders to easily take the goods: things weren't looking good.
"Alas, we must remain calm regardless of the changes," Alistair added, resting his forehead on his index and middle. "We have nothing to fear if we believe it does not exist."
"Is that why you're seated here? You have no fear in your heart?"