Fiction Post 2/26 - Part I
Doesn't seem like I'm going to be writing 2000 words of one story today, because I'v been writing parts of a bunch of smaller projects. I'll be posting the results as I feel that the stories reach their respective levels of completion.
“You're reaching too far, Darius,” he spat, “Try it, and I'll rip you limb from limb.”
The young fencer merely pointed his sword. “You're clinging to the old ways like they're the only thing with worth. Magic is dead.”
Magic, the primal force that allowed mankind to shape the world, was a power created by belief. Like all Gods, man gave it form and power. Without that, it was just words and gestures without any significance.
“You are a fool,” declared the wizard.
“You'll be a corpse,” countered Darius, a cocky grin crossing his face.
The wizard flicked his wrist and a jolt of green lightning arced from his hand, settling around the fencer. A binding spell, it would paralyze the impetuous youth as the mage set up a killing blow.
That is, assuming it worked. The fencer lunged forward, bringing his sword in line with the wizard's heart. It struck home, piecing flesh and bone without stopping.
“I grant magic no power, so it has none over me. Your studies have been for naught, Old one.”
The wizard tried to respond, but all he could muster was the gurgling of blood in his throat.
“Whisper a spell with your dying breath, Prove yourself a fool.”
He withdrew the sword, kicked the wizard onto his back, cleaned the weapon on his opponant's robes, and walked away in silence - content in his power.
“You're reaching too far, Darius,” he spat, “Try it, and I'll rip you limb from limb.”
The young fencer merely pointed his sword. “You're clinging to the old ways like they're the only thing with worth. Magic is dead.”
Magic, the primal force that allowed mankind to shape the world, was a power created by belief. Like all Gods, man gave it form and power. Without that, it was just words and gestures without any significance.
“You are a fool,” declared the wizard.
“You'll be a corpse,” countered Darius, a cocky grin crossing his face.
The wizard flicked his wrist and a jolt of green lightning arced from his hand, settling around the fencer. A binding spell, it would paralyze the impetuous youth as the mage set up a killing blow.
That is, assuming it worked. The fencer lunged forward, bringing his sword in line with the wizard's heart. It struck home, piecing flesh and bone without stopping.
“I grant magic no power, so it has none over me. Your studies have been for naught, Old one.”
The wizard tried to respond, but all he could muster was the gurgling of blood in his throat.
“Whisper a spell with your dying breath, Prove yourself a fool.”
He withdrew the sword, kicked the wizard onto his back, cleaned the weapon on his opponant's robes, and walked away in silence - content in his power.