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.
My fur
Lights swept all corners of Gauthem... the wails had dwindled to sobs.
Armies marched as if blind—corpses disregarded. The haze bled scarlet. Citizens alive gaped in morbid fear, kneeling: a prayer to the Aêther.
Many lived. A many died. Treachery burrowed deep in Gauthem uprooted overnight. Only seven remained.
There were seven more to fall.
"This place is next," a figure whispered, bleak eyes observing—hair tethered to the wind.
"We are too cruel to our fellow man. Spilling blood for empty notions of loyalty and honor…" Alistair said, sighing. "I am the same; a life shall fall to vengeance."
His gaze shifted from the scenes of destruction, scanning, silence reflected—
—Until Aradric.
Fogs of war shrouded, black vans parading—armored and armed. Men situated within smiled, cackling, weapons of silver glistening. Ammunition carted in boots.