Join Date: Jul 2009
Re: [COMPETITION] Epics and Legends Writing Battle
Angel as in ChaosArchangel, XD!
Okay. I know I risk being disqualified, but I'm about 400 words over the limit. Unfortunately this time I cannot delete any parts of the story, so here we go. Loved Big Bang Age, loved the title.
Title: Pure Pure Heart!
Number of words: 2093
Shards of light leaped off blades of leaves, eager to catch a new, different destination as they rained down on the wild forest of life. Nearby, a ferocious waterfall roared its wrath with unrivaled vigor, eternal and beautiful to anyone whose cycle in this world shorter than it. This was a world she had sworn to protect for a very simple reason, although the only person she had confided about this nearly bashed her skull, frothing.
Well, she supposed that stealing barrels of beer everyday wasn’t really nice, but it’s not like she gave a damn about that bitchy panda’s opinion. It’s not like Furion would ever drink that hundred years old liquor stuffed in his stinking robes either, that’s why she drank it in his place. It took one hell of an effort to get away from that ancient elf whose eyes reflected bloody rage, but if she was given another chance to do it, she will. She’ll do it with a little bit more precaution, while making sure not to lose control of her fine senses and ‘accidentally’ pull out that hilariously long beard at night. Boy, it was fun screwing around with the Sentinels. It was so delightful that she giggled like a true devil every night in her sleep with imaginary horns and little wings growing out of her body, or so she was told, by her.
Her sight blurred as if fading and her mind blanked out. When control finally slipped back into her soul, blood and death has already stabbed every inch of the once-beautiful face of nature. The foul stench squirmed deeply in her lungs, writhing as if to excite, but she was emotionless. Steel. If the Lich King had thought that horrible stink would break her and hasten the taint, he was way off the target. Her flickering orbs of blue settled coolly on the bigger scraps of meat placed perfectly before her feet.
The Pandaren Brewmaster’s grinded face almost writhed in agony.
The Phantom Assassin turned away from the carnage and began to walk. There was no apology, not sadness, and perhaps a little regret that one of her sources of good drink was lost forever. She could do nothing for him, and did not deserve to, because she was the murderer. The taint will continue to corrupt her heart and soul until she was nothing more but an empty shell, and then she would become the ideal killer, the perfect Goddess of Destruction. It was inevitable. The deed was done. In order to save someone important, she had speared herself with darkness and played a most dangerous gamble against the Lich King. It was only right that her one and only foolish mistake resulted in ultimate tragedy.
The grass rustled once, then once more. Surprised that she still maintained her own will, her eyes gazed sideways to meet the new adversary. There stood a failure worse than death as translucent orbs stared straight at her own dying blue.
* * * * *
The Lich King waited for the return of his new champion. Rarely has this monster among monsters favored any subordinates as he saw all as mere pawns and thrash; but the Phantom Assassin, Mortred was one of his best converts yet. Born as a Warden yet lived not as one, she was a free elf who knew the pits of creation’s evil, yet was never bothered or even touched by the black depths of corruption. He soon realized that she was the embodiment of purest soul, a holy symbol of good whose come-to-be can only be miracles of miracles.
He wanted to paint her black so bad he thought he would die of madness, every day. As if he wasn’t crazy enough to begin with.
There was her strength to be desired too. At the age of seven, she fought her way out of the Warden’s filthy den, dealing zero deaths during the process. No one knew where she went. Three years later, even those who fought her themselves thought she as a myth. Invisible as a ghost, quick as lightning, and never existed. She was the top among genius, and she held skills that the Lich King much desired: Kill.
The Lich King broke away from his thoughts as he took notice of the incoming presence. His gift has come. The pure maiden whose soul was now blacker than his. Her lost eyes burned a hellish yellow as she walked ever so gracefully towards his throne, Darkterror’s head skewered on the tip of her sword. So, she had managed to kill the master of time himself. Then, the loss of one of his greatest generals was nothing. Nothing at all.
The Scourge of all evil welcomed his absolute murderer, and impossibly, smiled.
* * * * *
“Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!” Mortred’s strikes are out of the world. Her well-honed steel sang a shrilly tune as it tore towards the ethereal spirit Shendelzare Silkwood, whose twin blades stood ready in defense. It was a sure kill, a flare of power so powerful it would detonate like a bomb upon contact. And yet Shendelzare, with all her weaknesses and obvious disparity in power slammed one sword at its weakest point, an intelligent rhino whose mighty charge and deadly horn stopped that snarling chakram dead at its tracks.
A failed frontal assault, Mortred’s already invisible figure vanished as if in retreat, except that her blade had skewered the enemy over a thousand times from a thousand angles. It doesn’t matter if he could block her attack appropriately by aiming her weak points, she would overwhelm him with sheer numbers.
Or would have, if not for the second blade that waltzed into the game and literally danced. It weaved a symphony of joy and freedom, soaring and leaping again and again across the air as her every hit was deflected with deadly accuracy. A laughing ring jingled inside her ears as she was caught mesmerized by the dazzling radiance of killing lights.
Shendelzare saw her chance and immediately feinted a quick cut at Mortred’s face, drawing her chakram like magnet with the feather-light sword before he swung the hilt of the bright, sure blade to his opponent’s wrist, effectively disarming her. The Phantom Assassin finally recollected her thoughts and leaped back ten meters, a distance where she could toss her hidden daggers without obstruction. A slight pause reigned as both sides snatched hungrily at the chance to seize their breath, albeit for different intentions.
On one side, she was ready to kill him. On the other, he was ready to save her.
Shendelzare lifted his right arm and cocked his sword to the ground, and without waiting for her to respond to this cease fire he spoke, “I supposed that you knew right away that I am not her.”
Mortred’s eyebrows raised a little. She had turned her heart and body into steel in order to kill this enemy, but his choice to speak was interesting. Therefore she shall listen until he reveals an opening. Moreover, this enemy clearly has a grasp of her fighting patterns. She pretended to massage her weapon’s arm and she adjusted the daggers hidden beneath the sleeves of her clothes, and spoke with murder, “How dare you control her body! I do not know who you are, but I swear to Elune that by the time I’m done with you you’ll wish that you’re dead!”
The Shendelzare who was not herself took a good look at his swords. He knew he had definitely summoned his own weapons to fight, but they strangely transfigured into something else. One was a dull-edged, heavy sword which dexterity could seek for chinks in the armor. The other was a flat, thin half-blade that could race the wind itself with its unbelievable swiftness. Perhaps it was the rule of this world? At any rate, they sure helped tremendously during that terrifying duel just now. Even with the container’s battle memories he nearly had his head lobbed off at least a dozen of times.
But now wasn’t the time to think about his life. His duty here was clear, and there was only one way he could think of that would work. It was death at best, but he’ll have to prolong that for as long as possible before returning to the throne. It must be long enough to pass on her message to Mortred.
“Heh, this job really sucks.” He chuckled to himself. He could see that Mortred was growing increasingly edgy, and so he quickly said, “I am sorry. I did not want things to turn out like this.”
He caught a flash of confusion, and although she was still as rock the tension was visibly lower than before. He gave a sigh of relief, and readied himself for death.
“She sure was full of hate. Anger. She swore to kill you even if it meant to lose everything. Well, if you ask me, I think she’s a big idiot who deserved to be ended by the Void. Do you know how disgusting it is for a great spirit like me to be in a failure’s body?”
Poison. The poison of words ripped apart whatever control she had left. Like a mad beast she flew through the distance between in an instant and thrust her bare hands. All she could think of was to rip out her enemy’s heart, to stop his filthy mouth from tarnishing her sister’s name –
He never resisted. The slender limb sank deep into his ethereal form and grabbed hold of his fake heart. Pain exploded like fireworks in his head and Shendelzare’s form struggled to maintain its physical existence. Perhaps it was shock; a slightest uncomprehending at the complete surrender of her formidable enemy, but she did not crush his heart immediately. She allowed him a fraction’s time to speak. That was what he aimed for, since the beginning.
“Still – Agh – She never… hated you. Not even once… So…”
He never did get to finish his sentence, for beasts have no use for words. Therefore she simply crushed his heart and snarled wickedly at his toppling, fading figure. As his body fell past Mortred, his lips moved as if to pass on a final message…
* * * * *
The corruption was complete. It started with a devil’s oath, it progressed irreversibly with a loved one’s murder, and it ended with the second killing of Shendelzare Silkwood. The Lich King’s consciousness slithered into her heart to find not a single light within. So he broke her after all, the creation’s purest soul. No words could describe the red ecstasy that coursed through his mad soul as the Frozen Throne shuddered with laughter for the first time since when.
That was why he never suspected that it would be his final laughter.
The chakram sailed through thin air and sank deep into the Lich King’s throne, shattering his consciousness. It was by luck that the core of his soul, the glacial-sealed armor remained intact. The reformed mind shrieked painfully in late agony and rage; disbelief leaving cracks on the surface of ice, “Not- possible! Why? How?!”
The Night Elf slipped a dull-edged, heavy sword from her waist strap and swung. As if tracing a shivering straight line of death, cold steel slithered and slashed apart the glacial prison of Scourge with blazing speed. The core was fully exposed. Unbelievably, impossibly, the Lich King was dying.
He, an unyielding Sword of Justice that always seeks goodness and never fails. Sange.
“You… You!!!” Those were the last pathetic words of a centuries old fool who would never find salvation.
Mortred stared blankly at the failing shadow. The flat, thin half-blade then leaped a hundred slashes that utterly destroyed the core of the Lich King, and thus the Scourge of All Evil was killed, forever.
She, a soaring Blade of Freedom that flew but has never, ever left your side. Yasha.
The curse has been lifted, and needless to say the Scourge’s camp was in utter chaos. Already the essence of the Lich King, the darkness began to pour out of all that was infected. An escape now would be child’s play.
With his last breath, he said, “End this suffering. You are the only one who holds, but does not be hold. For her…”
“Lastly, I have something to say.” She leaped over a fence carved out of bones and walked towards her hideout. Who was she speaking too? No one, really, it’s just that…
“You should have filled me up with liquor instead, idiot.”