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.
Mother of plants
'Kill her'
A whisper was heard.
'Who hears—who speaks—Do you still listen, my beloved?'
Alistair's eyes darted and preyed, ears raised to listen. The intrusion of the intruder was palpable, ferocious, an obsession unsee-like blood; a velvet shade.
Luscious. Adulterous. Lecherous.
Unloved. Betrayal. Yearning.
"This voice." Alistair muttered. "It is different."
Greysword was unsheathed.
"Not Abdiel, or that titan. More unrestrained… More twisted."
It was ethereal—a soul of dreamy forms, or an idea that flickered, fleeting.
A voice at his shoulders: be free.
Then, he saw scarlet.
'I see you. Why hide, my love?'
"What!?" Alistair leapt with a push that was mighty—his heart yearned for escape; thoughts began to race.
The tears in space were stitched and latched by reality.
A wail echoed.
Eagerness personified.
… There was soon silence.