04-12-2017, 01:38 PM
The Haunter’s scream was horrible to behold, its anguish burgeoning forth in a flailing mass of shadows. The sudden burst of energy was enough to shatter the Sage’s defensive barrier, and the darkness swept over the four primes, knocking them all to the ground and obscuring the world and each other from view.
The Sage found himself in a void, his own form outlined by a strange white trim, separating him from the blackness that swirled above, around and below him. He sat up, unsure of what had just happened. Like the fuse of a bomb, firey letters began to trace themselves into the darkness in front of him. The Sage squinted in the harsh light and turned his head away, but the words followed. No matter what direction he looked they were there in front of him, their igneous message clear.
ҨԖҊՅӔժ ӨԥҊ ՃӨҊժҨ
The Sage clasped his hands to his ears, head throbbing as the message was bored into his brain. “Spread our words” The Sage grit his teeth against the onslaught, unable to close his eyes. The pounding grew into a crescendo until it overwhelmed the Sage’s senses entirely.
When the Sage realized it had stopped he jerked upright. A short distance away the heaving form of the haunter was slumped on the floor, unable even to maintain its flight. Kuzuru had struggled to his feet and was now limping towards the haunter, his stuttering gate painful just to watch. The Demon’s sword was out, hanging limply in one hand.
The Sage winced as he shifted onto his knees. “Don’t do it Kuzuru!” he called out. The Demon turned and looked back at him with a face of grim resolve.
“Do NOT start this again old man!” The Demon practically roared, “This… thing… has been trying to kill us since the moment we got here. Now it’s almost done and you’re telling me not to finish the job? Fuck off!”
The Sage did not back down. “Listen to me Kuzuru, that is not the way we want to approach this. Don’t make me fight you here. The painted girl has wrested some portion of control from the spectre. She now has a share in controlling the world we are in.” He said, glancing at the two comatose primes a short distance away, before fixing Kuzuru with an even stare, “We both know who’s side she will be on if we fight.”
The Demon returned his gaze coolly, though his eyes were a fire of rage. “Your funeral then, old man.” The Katana snapped shut into its blade and the demon stalked a short distance away, muttering to himself.
The Sage staggered to his feet, and slowly made his way over to the wheezing haunter. Its disembodied hands lay on the ground nearby, twitching slightly as the main body slumped on the floor. The Sage drew near, and though it made no move to respond the haunter’s eyes watched him.
“You’ve lost control, spirit. The life you are stealing is now beyond your grasp. Go peacefully into oblivion, and do not trouble again the world of men.” The Sage intoned. The haunter’s breathing slowed as the Sage spoke and it began to fade out of view. “Be at rest. Life must pass away, do not hold your end against the world.”
Suddenly the haunter’s eyes snapped open. And its disconnected claws grasped the Sage’s shoulders. He jerked back in surprise as the haunter lunged forward, its large tongue raking his chest and face. The Sage’s vision went dark as all the warmth fled from his body.
Kuzuru swore and dashed over as the Sage collapsed in a fit of violent shuddering. “Senile old codger!” he shouted as his katana flashed back out of its sheath. The haunter whirled around to face him cackling, his tongue leering as it floated back off the ground. “I told you this was the wrong move!” Kuzuru grunted and brought his katana down into the haunter’s face.
The Sage found himself in a void, his own form outlined by a strange white trim, separating him from the blackness that swirled above, around and below him. He sat up, unsure of what had just happened. Like the fuse of a bomb, firey letters began to trace themselves into the darkness in front of him. The Sage squinted in the harsh light and turned his head away, but the words followed. No matter what direction he looked they were there in front of him, their igneous message clear.
ҨԖҊՅӔժ ӨԥҊ ՃӨҊժҨ
The Sage clasped his hands to his ears, head throbbing as the message was bored into his brain. “Spread our words” The Sage grit his teeth against the onslaught, unable to close his eyes. The pounding grew into a crescendo until it overwhelmed the Sage’s senses entirely.
When the Sage realized it had stopped he jerked upright. A short distance away the heaving form of the haunter was slumped on the floor, unable even to maintain its flight. Kuzuru had struggled to his feet and was now limping towards the haunter, his stuttering gate painful just to watch. The Demon’s sword was out, hanging limply in one hand.
The Sage winced as he shifted onto his knees. “Don’t do it Kuzuru!” he called out. The Demon turned and looked back at him with a face of grim resolve.
“Do NOT start this again old man!” The Demon practically roared, “This… thing… has been trying to kill us since the moment we got here. Now it’s almost done and you’re telling me not to finish the job? Fuck off!”
The Sage did not back down. “Listen to me Kuzuru, that is not the way we want to approach this. Don’t make me fight you here. The painted girl has wrested some portion of control from the spectre. She now has a share in controlling the world we are in.” He said, glancing at the two comatose primes a short distance away, before fixing Kuzuru with an even stare, “We both know who’s side she will be on if we fight.”
The Demon returned his gaze coolly, though his eyes were a fire of rage. “Your funeral then, old man.” The Katana snapped shut into its blade and the demon stalked a short distance away, muttering to himself.
The Sage staggered to his feet, and slowly made his way over to the wheezing haunter. Its disembodied hands lay on the ground nearby, twitching slightly as the main body slumped on the floor. The Sage drew near, and though it made no move to respond the haunter’s eyes watched him.
“You’ve lost control, spirit. The life you are stealing is now beyond your grasp. Go peacefully into oblivion, and do not trouble again the world of men.” The Sage intoned. The haunter’s breathing slowed as the Sage spoke and it began to fade out of view. “Be at rest. Life must pass away, do not hold your end against the world.”
Suddenly the haunter’s eyes snapped open. And its disconnected claws grasped the Sage’s shoulders. He jerked back in surprise as the haunter lunged forward, its large tongue raking his chest and face. The Sage’s vision went dark as all the warmth fled from his body.
Kuzuru swore and dashed over as the Sage collapsed in a fit of violent shuddering. “Senile old codger!” he shouted as his katana flashed back out of its sheath. The haunter whirled around to face him cackling, his tongue leering as it floated back off the ground. “I told you this was the wrong move!” Kuzuru grunted and brought his katana down into the haunter’s face.
If history is to become legend, it first must be recorded.