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  1. #1
    The Dragon Tyrant Raver's Avatar
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    Default [ Alteisen / Records ] Legends of Avalonia Prologue

    Official Summer Writing Prompt Entry: Myths/Legends

    --------------------------------

    Prologue


    Upon the precipice of the world's end, at the vast floating land of Atra, a fierce battle between the last Bahamut or dragon of gods and a lone figure ravaged the entire heavens with their fearsome clashes. Having already killed the remaining 9 Bahamuts, this lone stranger set out to hunt them all down; whether be for power, vengeance or just to test his mettle, one cannot know. Armed with his sword of overwhelming power, and his will akin to an unstoppable force of nature, he slew them one by one; unrelenting and without mercy that he cannot be called a human anymore.

    By slaying the nine Bahamut, he has acquired all of their wisdom, knowledge, strength and power. A Bahamut would have been above and capable of ruling over gods and demonic overlords, forces of neutrality and destruction to mete out indiscriminate divine punishment to those who threaten the very laws of nature itself. But to see them being slain like their lesser kind, was both in the realm of impossibility and sheer absurdity.

    As the floating continent began to deteriorate around them the contenders paused for a moment after their recent brutal clash. Both of them were already at their limit, both of them aware that their next clash would be their last. From its prowl, the dragon seemed to ease up its stance as it raised its head before its enemy; its size was akin to a mountain compared to the lone figure.

    Why do you continue to fight...?

    The dragon began to speak in its opponent's tongue through channeling its thoughts unto him. It may be talking telepathically but its voice was like thunder and had a prominent impact unto it. A mere mortal would have had his head be crushed by the mere voice of this almighty being.

    What do you hope to accomplish by felling me, like what you have done with my brothers and sisters? You fought without rest and recuperation, you already have been mortally wounded so many times, had your flesh torn apart by forces incomprehensible---yet you still fought like an opponent to be reckoned with...

    Slaying all of us will accomplish nothing. You will incur the wrath of both gods and demons upon you, and in time... this world would meet its inevitable end. All must end to bring about the new---that is the law of universe.


    The dragon spoke its piece upon its opponent, reminding him that everything the lone figure has done up to this point was meaningless. The almighty entity was curious in the slightest, to what drives this formidable opponent into felling all of them. As the dragon whom have felled numerous gods and demonic overlords who dared opposed it, the lone figure was the only one to have brought it unto its shameful brink of defeat.

    Upon hearing the Bahamut's speech, the lone figure finally eased his stance in a very long while since upon arriving in this forbidden land. His uttering nothing from his mouth, he spoke through the mind as the dragon did. As his torn and ragged cloak fluttered about the strong tempest around them, he stated his intentions to the dragon plain and simple.

    Hmm... hahahahahaha!!!

    The dragon suddenly burst laughing mentally and physically through its mouth full of teeth. The laugh itself was so loud and powerful that it was akin to a natural disaster, the shockwaves tore through the ground that the both of them stood on. The Bahamut itself was nonetheless amused by the statement that he gave it.

    Interesting---most interesting indeed!!! Never in eternities have I heard such a bold statement driven by either naivete or just plain stupidity!


    The dragon responded, mocking the lone figure's response.

    But on the other hand, that bravado does have weight to it... even if it is in the slightest.

    The almighty being went silent for a moment as if contemplating. Then it raised its claw and then using its entire colossal body to stand up on its hind legs; the Bahamut's sheer height looked like it already has exceeded the heavens itself. The sudden gesture made the lone figure raise his guard once more.

    But then, as the stranger was about to charge in, the dragon raised its claws and then stabbed itself with it, much to his surprise. Using its claws, the dragon made large incision upon its chest, cutting even through its rib cage. Using both its claws, the dragon then opened its chest to reveal its beating heart, coursing with unimaginable power.

    Consider this a surrender and an act of curiosity... I am offering my life for you to slay. If what you have said has truth unto it then I would personally witness it through your own body---along with the rest of my kind in you.

    Make no mistake... you may have acquired the accumulated power of the entire Bahamut pantheon, but 'tis not what it seems. To fell a dragon, you acquire their existence to merge with your own; but to fell a Bahamut, you become our vessel---our medium to unfold the divine retribution!

    If you do as simple as to forget your goal, or let your guard down... we will be reborn using your body. We shall use your body as a vessel to create the ten-headed avatar of destruction, remember it well... warrior...


    Upon saying its last statement to its opponent, the dragon watched as the lone figure readied his sword. He need not heed the dying wish, for the dragon already knew his response. As the sword gathered the powers of the heavens and channeled the power of slain dragons he had felled, the last of the Bahamut looked upon its opponent once more.

    One last thing, warrior... do tell me your name.

    The dragon asked, as the lone figure seemed to raise his head to meet the almighty entity's gaze.

    "...Walthrane... or just Walter."

    I see... a name worth remembering.

    As the dragon said its response, Walter's blade was already plunged unto its beating heart. The dragon did not even roared nor let out a screech of agony, it died a silent death, befitting an old dragon. As the last of the Bahamut finally slain, so did the essence of the floating continent of Atra.

    Using the last of his strength in that blow, Walter just fell to the ground with the injuries and fatigue finally caught up with him. As the land of Atra torn apart by both force of the heavens and below, Walter's unconscious body finally fell unto the ocean below. His body sank until he finally hit the ocean's floor, un-moving and not breathing.

    His body and soul now entered a healing stasis that would ensue for years to come... until finally in a span of a decade, his body finally drifts ashore. With his fate ahead of him still unknown, Walter lied still under the radiant sun. After years of sleep, a smile slowly drew from his face.



    To be continued...

    ---------------------------------------------------------

    Chapter 1 coming at September 2018! This is just a prologue and preview for a fantasy setting spin-off of [Astonished/Amazed], hope to see you all by then!
       

  2. #2
    The Dragon Tyrant Raver's Avatar
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    Default Re: [ Alteisen / Records ] Legends of Avalonia Prologue

    Prologue Part 2

    -----------------------------



    A long time has passed since the complete annihilation of the celestial continent of dragons, Atra, the world itself was thrown into turmoil. The prophecy that the first sign of the end of the Age of Myth was the foretold destruction of the very medium and mediators of the divine will, the dragons. With the Bahamut all slain by an unknown assailant, the dragons that survived the fall of Atra scattered throughout the globe; losing much of their power, they were ousted from their rightful place upon the heavens beyond gods.


    Following the catastrophe, both universal factions of the heavens and underworld now both sought to claim dominance over the realm. With the dragons exiled, there was no stopping them from vying for the total control over world itself.

    With the end of the Age of Myth, and the Age of Man being met by an impending war---the world was about to change forever...


    -----------------



    Meanwhile upon the mortal realm, a long fragile peace has seen its end. In the continent of Avalonia, the second largest land in the world and the birthplace of almighty legends, flickered the first spark of war. Kingdoms in turmoil, mountains of casualties and rivers of blood has already taken hold in mere 5 years.


    The former kingdom of Bavilius re-consolidated itself as an empire upon the death of its former King Pelagius. The usurper and the assailant of the former king, an ominous man named Gilgas, rose quickly upon the throne unopposed. Shortly after crowning himself, King Gilgas began his bloody incursion en masse and re-established the Bavilius Kingdom into a warmongering empire.


    In a short span under King Gilgas' rule, the Bavilius Empire conquered neighboring kingdoms and countries with lightning speed. Their army marched under a black banner, as they charged unopposed. Their unnatural vigor was akin to a demon, with each of their battalions consists from 20,000 to a 100,000 strong.


    As the empire continued their unrelenting advance south, their next destination was undoubtedly the Kingdom of Camalan. Located at the southwestern part of the continent just beside the Oriental Free Holds, Camalan was but a small country that did not even amount to ten percent of the land. Its reigning king, Vortigern Marcus II, was gradually losing the hearts of its people due to his compulsive nepotism.


    Half a year after Davos, which bordered Camalan to the north was conquered, the small nation was doomed to be conquered next. With the dark army of the Bavilius Empire now nearing its doorsteps, it would be a matter of time before Camalan becomes surrounded. The king and his subjects became increasingly stressed to what action should they take next.


    ----------------------------


    Camalan Citadel, Uther Castle




    With the enemies threatening to corner them, King Marcus called for his noble subjects, close advisers and knight-commanders for a war council. They discussed the impending matters, mainly the encroaching empire's army. Diplomacy was already considered, but the ambassadors the king sent were either killed, imprisoned or defected.


    King Marcus has pondered that the only option was to fight back, as he ordered a few months back to assemble the army to his subordinates. The court has already agreed upon charging through the old Davos with all of their forces but without any alternative approach whatsoever. Those who intended to oppose the king's notion were coerced---except for one rebellious knight-commander...


    "...Sir Galahad... must I really repeat myself?"


    The king groaned at the knight's seemingly mocking formality. He was aware of Galahad's personality, yet was appointed Knight-Commander and Warmaster of his own elite regiment because of his profound leadership and unmatched prowess. The king was clearly not in the mood to humor him, as they were in a desperate position.


    "Oh yes, your majesty! Repeat it as many times as you will, but the fact won't change. 'Tis obvious that the empire has this already planned-- the second that we're deceived by their slow march, they'll surround us like cornered sheep."


    Sir Galahad responded with his tone beaming with condescension yet calm. He was merely voicing it in a way that the king would listen, or else he would be coerced if he does so much as stutter. The king has already rejected other approaches different from his, and this would not stand for Galahad.


    "To put it simply, your strategy of sending 10,000 soldiers against an army of 40,000 strong right in the middle of old Davos is just plain suicide."


    He added whilst beaming a rather wide grin on his face, his confidence was radiating much to the horror of his colleagues and the ire of the king.


    "Have you forgotten the generosity in giving you the post despite the fact that you're a commoner, Sir Walthrane Galahados Olven!? Despite your questionable claims of being the son of my former compatriot---the late Lord Lancelion, I gave you that post in his honor and in exchange for your loyalty!"


    The king reminded his knight, once again, how he acquired such prestige for a commoner. Sir Walthrane Galahados Olven, better known upon the king's court as 'Sir Galahad', and just simply 'Walter' to his close friends and comrades. Under the Vendragon banner, he was the Knight-Commander of the elite yet infamous regiment.


    "Well setting aside my dead old man, I am truly grateful, your majesty!",


    "Then---",


    "But!"


    Walter cut the king off before he could even coerce his subject; raising his head, he looked at the king with a confident smug expression.


    "--I did not pledge my loyalty so that I can rush headlong into disaster. I pledged my loyalty unto this country that Sir Lancelion the Bright loved, not the inept drivel that sits on a throne and calls itself a king.",


    "INSOLENCE!!!"


    With that final straw, the king stood up from his throne and brandished his blade charging at the impudent knight. The nobles watched in awe with the king's form as he closed his distance; King Marcus was an exceptional warrior and general before ascending to the throne, some say his skills with the sword persisted even with his old age. With no plans to counter him, Walter just stood his ground with his mocking grin as if knowing the consequence afterwards.


    But before King Marcus could cut Walter down, a bold figure leaped in between them in the nick of time. He sported a gallant coat with white armor, long flowing blonde hair with a stern yet warm disposition. One of the Knight-Commanders and the patron of the leading noble house of Pendavos of Camalan, and closest friend of Walter.


    "Please sheathe your sword, your majesty.",


    "Step aside, Sir Drake!"


    The king angrily gritted his teeth upon seeing the leader of the Knight-Commanders defend Walter. Sir Drake Arthur Pendraque of the house of Pendavos, also known as Sir Arthur the Absolute, the only knight of Camalan to have received the highest prestige. He was trained under Lord Lancelion, and he was Walter's first acquaintance upon arriving at Camalan more than 10 years ago.


    "You are aware that I cannot, your majesty. You cannot kill an ally before a battle! I beseech you!",


    "SILENCE! Sir Galahad has overstepped his bounds. It's time that he knows his place!"


    The king began lashing out even at his most trusted knight, but Drake was unfazed by it.


    "Lord Arthur, even for protecting your friend, you're going too far---",


    "FOOLS!!!"


    Drake suddenly radiated a semblance of enmity upon the enabling nobles.


    "If Sir Galahad were to die here, then it would be one huge loss for our army! Are you all capable of comprehending that!?"


    The nobles and even the king himself flinched at Drake's assertion.


    "Uh--ahem! Killing him won't get us anywhere."


    The king awkwardly walked back unto his throne, putting up a face to hide his embarrassment. While Walter was the rebellious kind, his exceptional martial ability has contributed greatly to the kingdom's military progression. Despite the baseless slander and criticism of the court, the Vendragon regiment exceeded expectations from Walter's peers.


    "Thank you for your understanding, your majesty. Bow your head!",


    "Geh! Th-That's right."


    Drake forced Walter to kneel down with him to express their gratitude upon the king.


    "However, the fact that he decided on his own to go against my orders to go to war and that the soldiers marched without a commander is another matter. A punishment is in order."


    The king calming down a bit, pointed Walter's fault despite this. It matters not that the king's strategy was flawed, but it is the fact that Walter refused to obey direct orders from his commander-in-chief. Even the offender himself was willing to acknowledge that.


    “Then, if you would hearken my words, your majesty. How about placing Sir Galahad under house arrest until your triumphant return?”


    With his quick thinking, Drake suggest a fitting punishment for his colleague with a side of formality for the fickle king.


    “If your majesty defeats a strong army without Sir Galahad, then what better to prove the offender wrong but actions? There is no harsher punishment for someone who values their honor.”


    Drake added to reinforce his point. Upon his suggestion, the court of nobles began talking to one another to contemplate upon it. Walter and Drake stood their ground and awaited the king’s decision.


    “As expected from the knight with the most prestige--very well.”


    With the king finally made up his mind, he stood up from his brass throne and faced his subjects with the utmost sincerity.


    “Sir Galahad, by the power vested upon me of Camalan, I hereby place you under house arrest at your estate.”


    The king declared, much to the dismay of the majority. Most noble houses have been trying to rid Walter of his right to claim his father’s inheritance, but they were trumped two-steps ahead by Walter’s men and women of the Vendragon banner. To them, he was nothing but a bastard child of the late Sir Lancelion, a smear of dirt upon the prestigious king’s court.


    “I will accept the punishment in your accordance, your majesty.”


    Walter voiced no objections whatsoever and just kept his smug disposition. Knowing from the corner of his eye, looks of distaste from the nobles who opposed him was enough. Drake on the other hand, sighing a breath of relief as he escorted his friend out of the court.


    ---------------------------------------



    Before the two part, Drake and Walter stopped by the lounge first. The two decided to have a break from that stressful ordeal. The two men settled down and shared a good drink by the table, before the serene atmosphere.


    “Sorry about that, Drake.”,


    “So you were counting on me to mediate for you after all? You could’ve at least tell me beforehand..”


    Drake just groaned as he handed Walter his glass of wine.


    “And how would you even expect to go well if you can’t even act the part?”,


    “Touche’”,


    “I just knew you’d stop him for me.”,


    “I really can’t hide something from you, Sir Galahad.”,


    “Stop calling me that, Sir Goody-Two-Shoes.”


    “Hahaha!”


    The two shared a toast for nothing special, just the two of them would be more than enough. It was Drake, whom was the first person who welcomed Walter in Camalan; it was through Drake’s help that Walter became a knight of the kingdom, owing it to Walter’s father, whom was Drake’s mentor. Though he had never any use to prestige, Walter was still grateful that someone was willing to scale heights just so he could have a place in Camalan.


    In regards to Walter’s father, the two never met once. It was his mother that constantly told stories about him when he was young. His mother was Lady Gwen of Evere, a former noble of Davos, exiled for her secret affair with Sir Lancelion.


    Walter never hated his father nor adored him, even in his mother’s stories. But if given the chance, he would like to meet him. The only memory he had of him was his father's sword, which served as Walter's birthright to knighthood.


    “So… is this toast for victory?”


    Drake uttered as he took a sip with a troubled look.


    “Hell no. Just to have your unit come back alive.”


    Walter bluntly replied, the odds of Camalan losing for the upcoming battle was still apparent.


    “So… do you really think that we have no chance of winning?”,


    “None. I spent days surveying the area through my scouts’ reports. The Bavilian Empire is putting all the stops. But if we took command while still in Camalan territory, there is a way…”


    Though blunt, Walter spoke with unwavering confidence as if he has already planned ahead.


    “But sadly, the King won’t listen to what others has to say. And I don’t feel like dying for an ‘honorable cause’--that’s just bull. What we need right now are soldiers, not dead heroes.”


    He grunted in frustration as he slouched down the couch, after downing his glass in one gulp.


    “Heh, that’s just like you. But you do have a point.”,


    “Guess you could say we’re opposites.”


    The two shared a brief chuckle as they poured another round of liquor by the table.


    “So I really can’t convince you to skip the campaign?”,


    “I’m happy that you’re worried about me, but---”,


    “I’m not?”,


    “Hehe… ah yes… that is so like you.”


    Once again, the two shared one more toast of wine. Drake and Walter got along like bickering brothers, polar opposites between an exemplar knight and a notorious rebel. Yet despite their differences, they held great respect towards one another.


    Other than his men and women, Drake was the only friend he could count on upon the vast masquerade of the king’s court. To him, it was just one massive den of corruption born from King Marcus’ compulsive nepotism. The atmosphere reeks just as much as a gambling den by the alley that even Drake attests to it.


    “Well… I better get going. Before suits come a-running to inspect the estate.”,


    “Right now?”,


    “What do you mean ‘Right now?’, I’m on house arrest, remember? Geez…”


    It had been a few hours and bottles later, Walter decided to finally get to his imposed punishment. It was a shame they had to cut the soiree short, but rules are rules. The moment allowed them to somehow forget their impending problem of an invasion, even for a short while.


    “Take care, Walter!”,


    “Heh, ‘take care’ he says---I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying that, idiot!”


    Walter boisterously responded, but he meant well. Especially when Drake’s unit was to be at the formations on the morrow, against a seemingly one-sided resistance against the incoming Bavilian army. As Drake saw his friend off the door and prepared to go back at the court hall, he froze as he saw a rather imposing figure that was approaching from a distance.


    She donned a beautiful white and red dress, her presence exuded grandeur. While not exactly adorned with jewels nor gratuitous amount of make-up, her smile and gentle presence was enough for her to stand out. But her most notable features were her unusual tan skin tone and her brightly-colored red locks.


    “P-P-Princess Althea Athanos! Ah! Pardon, you just caught me by surprise.”


    Flabbergasted, the exemplar knight payed his respect to the royalty before him.


    “Hehe… Don’t fret sir Arthur, I am merely on a stroll. And didn’t I tell you that you don’t have to complete my name like that? Hmm… you’re really forgetful when it comes to my given privileges. Shall I make it a decree instead?”,


    “N-No! Unnecessary, Princess Thea.”,


    “Hehe…”


    The princess had an aura of warmth with a mellow playful attitude about her as she addressed her knight-in-subject. Althea Athanos, the youngest of King Vortigern Marcus II’s children and only daughter in the family. A hothouse flower, she almost never leave the castle grounds for the most of her life as strictly imposed by her father.


    Due to her unusual appearance and upbringing, she was loathed and shunned by her father. Her mother was of a mysterious origin, being wedded to the king as part of a political truce between connections to kingdoms overseas. But despite that, Princess Thea was able to maintain some considerable imperial power over her subjects, although not as free-rein like her siblings.


    “Pardon me for asking, but is it alright for you to be wandering around? Maybe I can be of your escort?”


    Drake suggested, as he figured since the princess was before him, he might as well accompany her at least.


    “A kind offer but I am actually looking for someone.”,


    “Oh? Who might be this ‘someone’, your majesty?”,


    “I have heard Sir Galahad was here, have you seen him by any chance?”




    ------------------------------------


    Camalan Citadel, Imperial District




    “Bella! Here girl!”


    As soon as Walter stepped out of the premises, he whistled a sharp tune to call for his steed. Then from the distance, galloped a tall obsidian horse with a majestic silken mane almost the size of a Hippogryph; the Hippogryph being a lesser descendant of its mighty ancestor, the proud Griffon. The obsidian horse was armed with black armor and plated reins, a bona fide war horse.


    “Good girl.”


    Walter gave his proud steed a thorough scritching which the horse seemed to like. Despite its monstrous and fearsome appearance, his horse named Bella seemed like a tame domesticated hound around its master. Walter jumped on her saddle and held the reins.


    “Alright, Bella. Let’s go home.”


    Prompting his steed to move, the horse did as her rider said and proceeded unto the streets of the Camalan Citadel. While the other knight-commanders would have demanded a paraded entourage upon the streets, Walter did not mind walking through the bustling streets unannounced.


    Though he did stood out because of Bella, but everyone whom he caught attention to just gave them a friendly wave. He was the only member of the king’s court whom was willing to humble himself upon Camalan’s citizens. He did not greeted the common folk as an official with power, but rather he just met them like old acquaintances.


    With the usual daily routine of these lively citizens, it was almost as if it was just your typical day. He could not even imagine being under the Bavilius Empire. With war upon them, Walter promised himself to protect these humble citizens no matter what happens.


    “Ah… hah… finally! I’m here…!!! Camalan!!!”


    Meanwhile, from the city’s gates, one loud free spirit made her first step inside the city. With her boisterous entrance, the people around her began to look at the newcomer with the utmost eccentricity. But she was far too oblivious to even pay attention to their wanton attention.


    “Attention! Citizens of this proud kingdom! My name is Hinokami Miyamoto-no-Kurome! And I’ve come--hearing about the great Sir Galahad and wished to challenge him on a duel!”


    Casting away her cloak, as she revealed her identity with unwavering pride that the onlookers cannot help but stare. She wore a vibrant red armored kimono with blue sleeves with a jacket on her shoulders fastened by Sode or Samurai shoulder armor. She was armed with two pairs of katanas from both sides of her hips; judging from her look, she may have hailed from the eastern continent of Yamatoshima.


    “Now then! Galahad-dono! I have come from---er…”


    Her pacing came to a screeching halt as her stomach decided to remind her that she has not yet had her fill of food. The crowd she amassed just burst into laughter at the hilarious development, before continuing on with their daily routine. With her hunger kicking in at the worst possible time, the proud samurai from the east clutched her belly in discomfort.


    “Ah… Three days… no food… hungry… ah! Money.”


    Kurome then hurriedly reached out to her kimono’s loose sleeve.


    “Gyaaah! M-My wallet! I’m doomed!”


    She screamed as soon as she discovered that the sleeve where she put her wallet in, had a hole in it. Which meant that she must have dropped it in the middle of her venture. She just flopped on her hind downtrodden in this unexpected events.


    “I can’t challenge Galahad-dono with an empty stomach… uuuu… I was so excited that I forgot to pay attention to my belongings.”,


    “Umm…”,


    “Hmm?”


    Kurome suddenly felt tugging on her sleeve, seeing a little girl beside her.


    “Weird miss, would you like some food?”,


    “Food!? Show me--wait who’re you called weird---auuu…”


    Before she could even refute the little girl’s statement, her stomach assaulted her again with a critical hit.


    “Follow, follow Mina. Mama’s food--best in Camalan.”,


    “Eh? Well okay…”


    Standing up, Kurome let the little kid lead her to a nearby food stall. When they arrived, her nose was immediately tickled by the delicious scent of fresh-cooked meat and stew and the sweet fragrance of food. Kurome was drawn to the sight of all these food stuffs all lined up on the stall.


    “Oh! Mina, where have you bee--who is this woman with you?”,


    “Mama… Weird Miss needs food.”,


    “O-Oh my.”


    The woman managing the stall was surprised at Kurome’s appearance, whom her daughter Mina dragged along. The former seemed to be trembling and twitching with her knees about to buckle any moment. She has never seen an individual in a pathetic state.


    “Come come. You looked like you’re one step away from a coffin.”


    Out of sympathy, the mother and child let her inside their house just by the stall. Next thing Kurome knew, there was a feast before her enough to feed 5 families. She finished it in one sitting before they could even blink.


    “Sorry for the inconvenience!!!”


    After finishing her meal, Kurome prostrated herself before the mother and child to apologize, much to their surprise.


    “Ah--ahaha. No need. ‘Tis all on the house for now, you just looked like a corpse when you came here.”,


    “Hehehehe… Weird Miss is funny, mama.”


    Mother and daughter were both embarrassed and amused by her over-the-top mannerisms.


    “Although, I didn’t quite know your name yet.”,


    “Ah! Hinokami Miyamoto-no-Kurome! At your service!”


    Once again and with greater vigor, Kurome introduced herself, never once faltering in her own words. She exuded a bright presence like the sun, warm and gentle yet empowering. She was beaming with an honest smile that showcased how big her heart was.


    “So then, if you don’t mind, Miss Kurome. Did you came from the Oriental Free Holds or were you from Yamatoshima directly?”,


    “Oriental Free Holds?”


    She crossed her arms in question as they went back outside on the food stall. The mother then explained that the Oriental Free Holds was a group of neutral cities at the eastern part of Avalonia. It was founded by refugees from Tian Long and Yamatoshima after the great war, hundreds of years ago.


    By the Treaty of Avalonia, they were able to keep their independence from other kingdoms within the continent, in exchange of establishing trade with them. Over time the Eastern Free Holds grew into a bustling trade capital of the entire Avalonia, them being a medium that connects the eastern culture to the west.


    “Oooh! I would love to visit there someday. But sad to say, I came from the main land of Yamatoshima itself! The land of lions!”,


    “Oh my, I imagine you must have quite the trip to venture from that other side of the world.”,


    “Umu!”,


    “But then why did you come here at Camalan of all places?”,


    “Well that’s because---”,


    “Mama! Mina going out…”


    Before Kurome could state her purpose, she was cut off by a running Mina holding a small wreath of flowers.


    “--I think I’ll stroll a bit more. Thank you for the hospitality, ma’am.”


    With her objective still in mind, Kurome bid her farewell to the family that took her in. She followed Mina on her way out and watched her run along by main street. But as she was about to go on a different direction, she caught the sight of a knight riding tall black-armored horse walking through the main street.


    She saw as Mina reached out to this knight, the latter accepted the little kid’s flower wreath to put it on top of his steed’s mane. She sensed that this knight somehow projected a rather powerful yet mysterious presence about him, a familiar feeling. It was the same as her master’s and her brother’s, which meant there was no denying it.


    “I found you! Galahad-dono!”


    Kurome adjusted her belt and ran towards her objective.


    “Kuh!”


    But was then impeded by a rather busy crowd before her, it was midday and it was peak hours of business here in this city.


    “I must… follow him! Excuse me--coming through!”


    Not losing sight of her target, she maneuvered through the busy crowd with the utmost haste. Although Walter was seemed to be gaining more paces than she was, Kurome was about to lose him. With quick thinking, Kurome inspected the surroundings to find a plausible shortcuts to catch her prey.


    “I guess it can't be helped--toh!”


    Using her peak agility, she jumped off the sea of crowd and began using the environment itself to traverse easily towards Walter. Free running and scaling through the urban environment with her superior balance, agility and reflexes. From the far distance, she saw Walter and his steed making a turn towards the next alley.


    “All or nothing--hiyaaah!”


    Building up tension on her legs, she then launched herself high up with considerable velocity. Jumping over three buildings in a single bound, gaining large amount of distance towards her target. As she landed, she saw in time that Walter just made another turn to the next alley.


    “Heh! I got you now!”


    Or she thought, now without any obstacles in the way, she ran at full speed in pursuit.


    “GYAAAH!!!”


    As soon as she made the turn where Walter was, she was greeted by Bella’s long snort right on her face, in which caught her completely off-guard.


    “What are you doing?”,


    “GYAAAAAHHHH!!!”


    It was then followed by Walter appearing behind her that caused her to fell on her hind.


    “Here.”,


    “Th-thank you.”


    Kurome took his hand to help her stand up, a rather embarrassing first encounter; Walter waited patiently for her to gain her composure back as she dusted herself up.


    “Okay then, who might you be? If you’re the messenger from the Eastern Free Holds, I already paid the shipment’s due--”,


    “Haha! I knew it! Galahad-dono!!!”,


    “--okay, guess I’m wrong.”


    Walter stood corrected as he faced Kurome, the woman from the far eastern lands stood before him as a challenger.


    “I’ve been searching for a strong opponent all my life. I’ve defeated so many in my travels, I came out on top of my own country. But being the top in one place, isn’t gonna cut it! I want the world to resonate my name! Hinokami Miyamoto-no-Kurome!”


    She was just as beaming, maybe even more than before, that Walter himself couldn’t help but be impressed by her bright presence. From the looks of it, she’s just looking for a proper fight with him in which he respected. If she was an assassin, they would not be conversing right at that moment.


    “I’ll be honest, I like your confidence and the gimmick you’re going for. Not an ounce of stuttering, so my guess is you’ll want to start with me?”,


    “As expected of my opponent! Yes! Your name has been known in the world of swordsmanship! One of the four ascending dragons of the entire world! If I defeat you, then I can become a dragon too!”


    She was just honest to a fault, Kurome’s dreams resonated in her words. The Four Ascending Dragons Kurome mentioned also known as the Four Heavenly Kings referred to the four strongest swordsmen across the globe, whose swordsmanship were peerless and unmatched---invincible under the heavens itself. Walter was one of them, before he arrived in Avalonia, he has traveled across the globe to train himself and refine his edge to its peak sharpness.


    He himself has not yet met these other masters of the sword, nor would he want to. Out of the Ascending Dragons, he was the only one to live out of frugality. He cared neither prestige nor fame, to him, being ‘invincible’ was trivial at best.


    As for Kurome, she would be considered a rarity among warriors, not everyday that you get to meet someone as full of energy as Kurome was. If anyone, she should have been to inherit the title of master of the sword. Walter should have been at his estate right now, but a quick duel would not hurt.


    “Alright, you seemed determined. I’ll humor you.”,


    “Ah! Thank you so much Galahad-dono! Yes!”,


    “Heh… Alright just take your stance and come at me whenever you’re ready.”


    Walter relaxed his stance whilst Kurome prepared her quick draw stance with her dual katanas.

    "Oh and one more thing."

    All of a sudden, Walter's tone changed from a laid-back carefree knight to that of a deep-toned battle-hardened warrior.

    "If you're gonna duel me. Then I can only assume, you're prepared to meet you end. After all... it would be disrespectful if I hold back on you.",


    “...!”


    As soon as she touched the grip of her swords, a crushing pressure suddenly washed over her. It was so strong that she felt her hands become petrified from gripping her swords, a single twitch was like being pricked by a needle. A cold chill began creeping up her neck then wringing it, like a serpent about to devour her whole.


    <”Wh-What is… going on…? Why can’t I--!!!”>


    As she raised her head to face Walter, Kurome knew where this overpowering pressure was coming from. Walter was not even in his fighting stance, but upon a closer look, he projected no openings and can attack any time the moment she makes her move. Kurome was delusional, her mind and instinct clashed as she was beginning to witness her opponent's nature.


    <”...his stance… no… his presence, he’s like a colossal mountain…! Argh… I can’t”>


    She could see it, in every possibility how her opponent would effectively cut her down in a single stroke.


    <”I’m… I’m afraid…? I’m--I’m scared…!”>


    It was not before long that her shoulders began trembling and her legs petrified, this was fear. This was the first time she felt threatened, she felt that her life was on the line. Her mind and instincts telling her that the moment she draws her blades, a vague sense of danger would definitely come.


    <”No… No…! Get away! Get away! Run!”>


    Her mind was screaming, her heart thumping like a machine running on its last gears. She was silently panicking that her body was beginning to give out; this has never happened before, even in the countless opponents she has faced to get here. Facing Walter would mean facing certain death, this was what it was like to face one of the four masters of the sword.


    “YAAAAAAH!”,


    “Oops.”


    Walter easily avoided her attack, he could not bring himself to strike back the moment she drew her sword. In the end, Kurome forced her body to move resulting in a rather reckless swing. Her body finally gave up and she passed out, Walter caught her before she could even fall to the ground.


    “She may have been beaming, but she was reckless. I guess she couldn’t handle a contest of wills---she's not prepared.”


    Walter carried the unconscious Kurome in his arms and prepared to place her on Bella’s saddle.


    “Oh my~ Oh my~ there you are… my knight in shining armor…~”,


    “Goodness sake, if you’re not drinking, you’re fooling around with women.”


    All of a sudden, two powerful figures appeared out of the darkness and beside Walter. A man and a woman of tall stature, both donned rather peculiar outfits that would deemed anachronistic in their country. Both of them exuded divine and fiendish presences about them.


    “Sigh… bugger off you two. This country bumpkin just had a little culture shock, is all---Goenn... Omnia…”


    ============================

    Prologue End

  3. #3
    Pyro with a Keyblade KingdomKey's Avatar
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    Default Re: [ Alteisen / Records ] Legends of Avalonia Prologue

    I am loving this story! Is the Goenn in this prologue the same one that's a demon king in the other? Is this like a sort of cross over or different reality of sorts for Walter to live in? And oh my god, I was at the edge of my seat when Walter was being charged at by the king. Damn, he is one smug and fine looking man. It really is badass to see Walter or should I say Walthrane stand up to the king to prevent a bunch of men from dying in battle. And Kurome showing up in this made my day. I love how she wants to challenge him but faints in his arms instead at the end. Or how she nearly faints and gets taken in to be fed by someone kind. This was super entertaining. I do hope there is more of this in the future, Tyrant Raver. :D

 

 

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