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.
Files of scenes-green
Alistair stood atop a building—hands crossed behind his back. There was only one thought in his mind.
'The city is burning.'
"Everywhere, there's chaos. People are breathing and living in destruction. Why are these happening?
"And why am I also a part of this?"
His heart raced, a discomforting sensation filled his chest. Nothing, nothing was great.
The earth pained his legs, and air suffocated lungs.
"I need to fix the issues here faster. But, Ragnör is a pain to kill. No, I can't even find his traces. How does an oversized rat hide so efficiently? "
Before he contemplated any further, a door burst open.
Stepping forth, with a pace filled with authority and discipline—arrived a middle-aged lady dressed in a coat, its hem swaying.
Tucked between her armpits, lay a yellow file. Rows of morbid pictures leaked from its opening, mortem views.
"Mr. Alistair, correct?"
"Yes."