FloatingFlames
Lovable Narcissist
Everybody's doing it! This is preview of my chapter fic that I'm writing, if anybody is interested. It's actually a rewrite of my very first fic. The plot may seem completely absurd to you at first, but really, I tried to be as vague as possible while giving a little insight as well. Any questions are welcome as well as comments. I hope to deliver to you, the faithful readers (let's hope), an entertaining experience. This prologue isn't the best representation of the fic, but I hope it accurately portrays what's to come.
You should know what the strange man is when you're done reading, or at least have some speculation. =)
Anyways, I won't ramble on too much, because there really isn't much to say but 'Enjoy'. So... enjoy.
This fic has gone from "An Ancient Betrayal" to "The Final Chapter" To "Green Sky of Chains" to "This Illusion" and back to "Green Sky of Chains". Whew. Damn titles. ._.
Green Sky of Chains
Tale of a Creation
Prologue
A man with a bleeding soul entered through the shaky doors and into the bar which was rustling with liveliness. He was shrouded head to foot in raggedy clothing, and a hood concealed his face, although tanned, scared flesh was vaguely visible. What seemed to be an unceasing glare was not seen but more felt; he trudged toward the bar, each step emanating with a bizarre disdain. He took a seat next to an aged old man. No one in the bar even gave the man more than a glance.
The old man on his side smiled and took a sip of his drink. His eyes closed, he began to speak to the newcomer, showing yellowing, rotted teeth. He looked like a poor, homeless man, but the way he spoke showed resounding intelligence.
“How’s progress, if I am allowed to ask?”
The cloaked man did not respond immediately, he ordered a drink with a simple hand gesture and then stared ahead into space. Several minutes past before he said anything, and when he did, his voice was rigid and raspy; it was quite clear he had not uttered a word in a long time.
“Why the hell would you care, you god damn traitor?” He croaked; his voice was little more than a painful rasp. A coughing fit and dark red blood followed these words. He quickly wiped his mouth with his cloak, which was already stained in a brownish red in many places. The old man paused momentarily, taking another drink.
“Harsh words.” Another short pause followed. “However, I honestly don’t see that someone with the condition you have can continue with something so ambitious.”
The ancient man received a glare equivalent of the phrase ‘screw you’. The stranger’s drink arrived; he grasped it and brought it to his lips, his arm shaking noticeably. He missed his mouth on the first attempt, but managed to find it on the second. He chugged nearly half the bottle before slamming it on the counter. The old man waited for a response, but when he received nothing, he continued.
“And you call me a traitor, but really… I left the cause because it was useless. It can’t happen ever, not even now when this hellhole of a country is weakest.”
An emotion must have been struck, because the aged man’s guest began to speak, this time much more quickly.
“You’re ignorant old man; you can’t see what I’ve seen. I’m much more in touch with him then you are.” He stopped, and began to breathe. “I’ve spoken to him. He’s sending …someone… He has plans, don’t believe otherwise…” The man stopped again. He could not speak in continuation. “He’s alive. No one sane would doubt it…”
The old man finished his drink and smirked. “From what I can see you’ve lost your sanity. You’ve become blinded by this endeavor. You say you’ve spoken to him, have yo--”
The man erupted angrily, raising his voice to a threatening level. “Shut up Agathor, you dirty human! You are worthless – you possess no connection to him whatsoever!”
At this, many people stared both nervously and peculiarly at the enigmatic customer at the bar who was shaking with complete fury. A small quantity blood escaped his lips and trickled down his chin, but he wiped it away hurriedly. Several more moments passed.
“You and I both know your speaking lies. Without my help you wouldn’t be where you are in the project.” The wrinkled Agathor smiled and picked bits of dirt from his grayed beard. “And why do you continue to insult humans? You’re working with them. Without their aid you would be a one man project. Surely you don’t think you could succeed on your own?”
The enraged mystery began to calm. He took a very deep breath, as if he was about to dive into an ocean, and began.
“What I mean is that… humans in general are…troublesome and incredibly foolish. There are some, whom under proper guidance, work towards the right cause. You were one of them yourself, were you not?”
Agathor simply nodded without uttering a word. Seeing that he would not procure another comment from the elder, the mysterious man went on in his thick, deep rasp:
“I don’t expect you to see eye to eye with me anymore though. You’ve obviously had a change in your beliefs.”
“You’re quite right,” Agathor said sternly. He did not continue. The cloaked man sneered beneath his hood.
“I should have you executed so you won’t spread our secrets,” he spat in his deep, scraping voice. This however, made Agathor chuckle heartily.
“You can’t kill me. You don’t have the physical ability, nor do those under you. Besides, I doubt you could even bring yourself to kill me.”
A low sound, something of a growl, came from the stranger, but he said nothing. He finished his drink in one more chug and left it on the counter.
The man rose from his seat and headed to the door. Stopping in the middle of the room, he looked around and began to whistle a strange, foreign tune.
He left.
A trail of an unusual purple substance leaked out the bottom of his pant legs as he walked.
You should know what the strange man is when you're done reading, or at least have some speculation. =)
Anyways, I won't ramble on too much, because there really isn't much to say but 'Enjoy'. So... enjoy.
This fic has gone from "An Ancient Betrayal" to "The Final Chapter" To "Green Sky of Chains" to "This Illusion" and back to "Green Sky of Chains". Whew. Damn titles. ._.
Green Sky of Chains
Tale of a Creation
Prologue
A man with a bleeding soul entered through the shaky doors and into the bar which was rustling with liveliness. He was shrouded head to foot in raggedy clothing, and a hood concealed his face, although tanned, scared flesh was vaguely visible. What seemed to be an unceasing glare was not seen but more felt; he trudged toward the bar, each step emanating with a bizarre disdain. He took a seat next to an aged old man. No one in the bar even gave the man more than a glance.
The old man on his side smiled and took a sip of his drink. His eyes closed, he began to speak to the newcomer, showing yellowing, rotted teeth. He looked like a poor, homeless man, but the way he spoke showed resounding intelligence.
“How’s progress, if I am allowed to ask?”
The cloaked man did not respond immediately, he ordered a drink with a simple hand gesture and then stared ahead into space. Several minutes past before he said anything, and when he did, his voice was rigid and raspy; it was quite clear he had not uttered a word in a long time.
“Why the hell would you care, you god damn traitor?” He croaked; his voice was little more than a painful rasp. A coughing fit and dark red blood followed these words. He quickly wiped his mouth with his cloak, which was already stained in a brownish red in many places. The old man paused momentarily, taking another drink.
“Harsh words.” Another short pause followed. “However, I honestly don’t see that someone with the condition you have can continue with something so ambitious.”
The ancient man received a glare equivalent of the phrase ‘screw you’. The stranger’s drink arrived; he grasped it and brought it to his lips, his arm shaking noticeably. He missed his mouth on the first attempt, but managed to find it on the second. He chugged nearly half the bottle before slamming it on the counter. The old man waited for a response, but when he received nothing, he continued.
“And you call me a traitor, but really… I left the cause because it was useless. It can’t happen ever, not even now when this hellhole of a country is weakest.”
An emotion must have been struck, because the aged man’s guest began to speak, this time much more quickly.
“You’re ignorant old man; you can’t see what I’ve seen. I’m much more in touch with him then you are.” He stopped, and began to breathe. “I’ve spoken to him. He’s sending …someone… He has plans, don’t believe otherwise…” The man stopped again. He could not speak in continuation. “He’s alive. No one sane would doubt it…”
The old man finished his drink and smirked. “From what I can see you’ve lost your sanity. You’ve become blinded by this endeavor. You say you’ve spoken to him, have yo--”
The man erupted angrily, raising his voice to a threatening level. “Shut up Agathor, you dirty human! You are worthless – you possess no connection to him whatsoever!”
At this, many people stared both nervously and peculiarly at the enigmatic customer at the bar who was shaking with complete fury. A small quantity blood escaped his lips and trickled down his chin, but he wiped it away hurriedly. Several more moments passed.
“You and I both know your speaking lies. Without my help you wouldn’t be where you are in the project.” The wrinkled Agathor smiled and picked bits of dirt from his grayed beard. “And why do you continue to insult humans? You’re working with them. Without their aid you would be a one man project. Surely you don’t think you could succeed on your own?”
The enraged mystery began to calm. He took a very deep breath, as if he was about to dive into an ocean, and began.
“What I mean is that… humans in general are…troublesome and incredibly foolish. There are some, whom under proper guidance, work towards the right cause. You were one of them yourself, were you not?”
Agathor simply nodded without uttering a word. Seeing that he would not procure another comment from the elder, the mysterious man went on in his thick, deep rasp:
“I don’t expect you to see eye to eye with me anymore though. You’ve obviously had a change in your beliefs.”
“You’re quite right,” Agathor said sternly. He did not continue. The cloaked man sneered beneath his hood.
“I should have you executed so you won’t spread our secrets,” he spat in his deep, scraping voice. This however, made Agathor chuckle heartily.
“You can’t kill me. You don’t have the physical ability, nor do those under you. Besides, I doubt you could even bring yourself to kill me.”
A low sound, something of a growl, came from the stranger, but he said nothing. He finished his drink in one more chug and left it on the counter.
The man rose from his seat and headed to the door. Stopping in the middle of the room, he looked around and began to whistle a strange, foreign tune.
He left.
A trail of an unusual purple substance leaked out the bottom of his pant legs as he walked.
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