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.
Trust is truly rare
The streets of today were calm... too calm. Everybody avoided one another, as if proximity would cease the beating heart. Why? The storm had gotten closer. Whispers of men, like ghosts, took heed; stories of corpses crucified in alleys spread.
These were dark times, a cold age. Death ripped and culled, people wept and begged. Right and left, bodies sprouted like weeds.
And in this city of grim, Fred and Alistair could be seen meandering silently; the red lights from lamps shone in young eyes. But there existed an unsavory atmosphere pervading amidst them.
No.
It was between them.
Alistair's gaze seemed to darken under the incandescent light, starkly contrasting with the happy-go-lucky expression Fred wielded. This silent walk continued until eventually,
"Fred, let's talk," Alistair shattered the silence. "Explain your purposes. Your true ones."
As he heard such an odd question, Fred became dazed. "My true what?"