|From The Ashes
Author: Nix Blaque PM
Carter Darshani is just a normal 16-year-old girl. Or so she thinks; but when six mysterious strangers come around she's thrown into a life that- according to them- she's lived sixteen times before. The kicker? She's never made it alive to 17 before.Rated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,270 - Reviews: 7 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 8 - Updated: 01-29-10 - Published: 01-25-10 - id: 2768233
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The clinking of swords filled the air; covering cries of pain, anguish and anger. The noise was deafening, and left the impression that in the small, grassy field, it was armies clashing and not the two small groups of people. The situation was not a normal one, but neither were the people fighting. One side of the raging battle were cloaked figures: tall, and lean. They wielded their weapons with skill that showed definite practice. It was the other side that would have caused a scene, had anyone been there to witness the battle, other than those fighting.
There was only seven of them, smaller than the other team. The eldest was barely eighteen, and the youngest- still wielding her sword expertly- was the tender age of eleven. It was a battle that many would have scoffed at, writing the children off as already dead- or as good as. They would have been proven wrong. Even the sheer intensity of the battle showed that the seven youngsters were in good stead.
The two leaders were fighting side-by-side, complete opposites working in deadly harmony. The blonde-haired girl seemed to almost predict the next move of the elder, and black-haired boy, swinging out of the way seconds before his sword swung in a perfect arc- hitting the air where she'd just been stood. Between them, they were clearly dominating their fight against six assailants, whose faces were doused in the shadows of the hooded robes. Light and Dark worked together, creating a balance that seemed almost impossible to defeat.
Two more of the group, the remaining two girls, were having a little more trouble with their fight. They, too, were working together against the cloaked figures that clearly outnumbered them. Their battle was starting to look bad, when the three others made their way over. Though still outnumbered, just being together seemed to enable them to continue fighting for a little longer. Still, things weren't looking good for the small group. They were outnumbered, and all but the eldest two were tiring fast.
Swords were becoming heavy in hand, and blood and sweat alike was making sustaining a substantial grip harder. They were struggling, and they knew it. The eldest boy of the group, with light brunette hair and darker brown eyes- turned towards the two leaders. The two of them were still going strong, though the girl had sustained a wound on her sword arm that was hindering her slightly. The boy seemed unharmed, for the most part.
Things changed in an instant. One of the girls, aged fifteen took a turn for the worst, and found herself in a headlock- her capturer preparing to snap her neck. For a second she looked almost scared, and then her face cleared and her eyes turned the colour of a dancing fire. Her assailant- who the others now identified as a man, from his screams- yanked his arms away. The smell of charred flesh wafted from his now charred arms, and he seemed to see red- sword abandoned. The girl grinned slightly, and without warning, burst into flames.
For a second, the fighting seemed to pause, and then swords were being discarded as if by some spoke command. A different style of fighting began, hand to hand combat paired with a pure, raw energy that the beings seemed to be able to channel. Each had their own talent, their own gift. All knew how to use them. Flashes of brilliant red, green, blue, purple, white and black seared the now star ridden sky. The metal swords lay on the floor, their blades glistening with blood as they remained forgotten. For the moment, weapons were un-needed.
It almost seemed as if the small group of minors had regained control of the fight, and then the youngest girl screamed. Both leaders spun, their fights forgotten, to see the young girl being restrained by two burly figures. The female leader abandoned all caution and sprinted for her comrade, only to be intercepted. Cut off from her partner, she was weaker, and the trap snapped shut. The young girl was thrown to the floor, as the other members of her group desperately tried to draw the attention from the female leader. It did them no good.
For a while the field was chaos. All of the hooded forms seemed to want to attack the female leader at once, and she was having to use multiple powers at once to keep them at bay. She was using her energy fast, but there was no other way to stay alive. After only fifteen minutes of solid attack, the robed figures got the upper hand. The young girl fell with an anguished scream of pain, and lay, unmoving.
The male leader reacted instantly, roaring a "No." as his soulmate fell. Anger blazed behind his eyes, making him stronger as super strength kicked into place. He took down more enemies than ever, but it wasn't enough. The youngest girl was the second to die, falling near silently among the other broken bodies. Just another sacrifice in a long line of sacrifices. After the first two had fallen, anger made the others blind.
One after the other, they fell, until only the one remaining leader stood. Panting and out of breath, but defiant. The cloaked figures surrounded him, and for a moment there was silence other than panting, shallow breaths. Then what appeared to be the leader of the dark-clad group stepped forward. A pale hand reached up to remove the hood that hid it's face, and a man was revealed. There was nothing unordinary about this man, other than the fact that he had just unknowingly sentenced himself to death.
"Oh, look. How the Saviors have fallen. One after the other, their broken bodies hit the floor. And with them, all hope is lost." He laughed, a hint of mania in his eyes.
"You've never been more wrong." The surrounded boy laughed, before picking up a sword lightning fast. He stabbed it through his own heart before anyone could stop him; a small smile on his face as he fell to the ground. His last thoughts were the chilling prediction from a century old seer; the words that had predicted this very day.
'And from the broken bodies of the dead, the saviors will rise once more. And this time, no-one shall stand in their way. The oppressed will be free, and evil will be stopped; the Seven Saviors will come again.'
(This is just a short Preface [obviously] and the other chapters will be longer [hopefully] please let me know what you think, and the others should be up soon :])