The kingdom was in disarray. Whoever looked into the sky would run away in fear, and the others would follow out of trust in the ones around them. There was a woman in the air, and by her abnormal appearance and black rags, one could tell she was bad news, but it was the flying broom that confirmed their anxiety -- a witch has finally infiltrated the kingdom.
No one even cared to worry about the child she was carrying away. In times of panic, people usually tend to forget about others, but if they would have taken a closer look, they'd realize it was no other than the prince, Allan Rose.
Swept away in a vivid dream, Allan's mind was somewhere else entirely. As if he had come back to life, he woke up in his dream with a large embrace of breath.
"So you're finally awake Allan?" Said Nikolai from the other side of the room. "Come on, join us."
"Join who?" He thought as he looked to where they were.
There he saw a younger version of Nikolai. He must have been a year younger than he was before his brother's passing, and next to him, young Asiya and Fable. Holding open a make shift blanket door, he waited for them to crawl into the fortress of sheets, covers and pillows.
"Allan come on, we're gonna to start soon." Fable said.
Seeing fable, and hearing his voice, tears began to flow from Allan's expressionless face. His memories knew to cry, but because his mind was taken to the past, he himself didn't.
"Allan, you are crying, why?" Fable asked.
Allan rubbed his tears away. "I don't.. know..." He said softly.
"Well then hurry up crybaby." Nikolai said as he pushed Fable inside, and then Asiya. "Come on Asiya get in!"
"Don't rush me, I'm going!" Asiya whined as she crawled inside.
"You too Allan." He said eagerly.
Not only was Allan taken to the past, but his mind as well. Somehow seeing the nostalgic image of Nikolai rushing everyone inside, Asiya's shorter hair, and Fable's golden freckles made his heart thump with excitement. As Nikolai pulled him inside, he was transported from a overly bright room, to an enveloping darkness. It was pitch black since their eyes had become sensitive to the light outside, but with legs kicking, elbows touching, and shoulders pushing, they could easily find where one another was.
"Fable announced the obvious. "It's dark..."
"Well then, go on Allan. You have the curliest hair, rub it on the blankets." Asiya said.
"I'll do it for ya!" Nikolai said after he got in, and put his arm around Allan.
He put him in a headlock, and grabbed a part of the hanging edges of the blankets, rubbing Allan's head against it. Sparks of lightning shot through them like they did through the clouds, partly unmasking their faces in blue light before quickly going away.
"H-h-hey, stop it!" Allan yelled as he pushed him off.
"I want to try, I wanna try!" Fable said as grabbed a blanket edge and proceeded to rub it on his head.
Like before, sparks ran through the covers, making for a spectacular sight. One after the other, they all began to mess around and rub their heads on the blankets, and soon it was almost as if they were outside during the middle of a lightning storm. This was one of Allan's most cherished memories that he was reliving once again, and in those moments, his mind was the furthest away from reality. The reality that he was being flown hundreds of feet into the air, away from safety.
At this point he was too far gone from anyone else. Unless he came back from his memories, he would be a goner for sure. But there was someone nearby. Even as high as they were, someone was there, climbing the very body of the castle. If you would to look up at it from the city, you would only be able to describe the windows as black dots. That's the reason no one seen the man that climbed them.
Jumping from one window ledge to the other, and then climbing a few more, he made his way up hundreds of feet into air. The higher he got, the more dominant the winds became. Like waves, they blew, coming in strong before leaving so that another could take their place.
Most of the time the weather was nice, even up there it would only be a little chilly, but today was an odd day. It started off bright and sunny, and without warning became dull, full of darks clouds, and unforgiving turbulences. One of those turbulences forced the hood off of the climbing man's face, uncovering his long awaited Identity.
The castle's eyes, and the winds whispers were the only ones that could tell the tale of his appearance. Darker skin than most, but yet still fair, and wavy black hair that fell over his forehead. Those traits were not so much different than many of the common people nowadays, but his eyes told another tale.
His eyes were black, not to be mistakened with dark brown, and his sharp eye brows were the same. Like a wolf, they were beautiful, strong, and full of purpose. These were the same eyes that met with Findrel, the kings squire from earlier. But too fast for anyone to get a second look, he covered his head once again, and continued his journey up. For every window he passed, he would quickly glance inside, and then move onto the next. His fluid movements had no flaws, mistakes were a stranger to him.
After a while he finally he stopped at one of the windows, indistinguishable from the rest. "This...is it." He said as he crouched down, and pulled something from his cloak. Small, and thin, it was a no other than the key he had stolen from Findrel.
The window had just one lock at the top and bottom. After unlocking the bottom one, It was obvious this window hadn't been opened in awhile after he unlocked the top. Even though it was free, the window still held there stuck, until a wind persuaded it open. He quickly hid on the side of the ledge, slowly peaking his head inside to see if the loud noise had attracted anyone. Seeing that no one noticed the screech, he welcomed himself in with a clean leap.
Now that he was inside, he could take a closer look. Seeing as the the room was drenched in water, and everything else was scattered about in a mess, he became confused. "Maybe I may have chosen wrongly..." He said as he walked further in.
His foot accidentally kicked a golden rod that was lying on the floor. He then picked it up, and came to terms with himself. "Well, being wet doesn't change it's value." He said before crouching down to find more items.
Every thing he found that held a price, big or small, he placed into a pile, being careful not to scratch or ruin anything. By the time he was done, the room had been cleared out. everything but the bed. The bed was too wet for him to consider taking anything from it, still dripping from the earlier occurrence he had no idea about. He dismissed it from his head, and stood near the pile. With everything in it, it was as tall as him.
From his long cloak he pulled out a fairly normal looking handkerchief. It was old, tan and dirty, must have been quite cheap too. But instead of wiping his face with it, he unfolded it until it was completely spread out. Then grabbing the two ends of the square, he stretched it out as far as his arms wing span could go. He then shook it out a bit, until the handkerchief was as big as a king sized sheet.
"Now just for the final step..." The man said as he spread it over the pile. Once the other side of the sheet had fallen over the other end of the pile, it shrunk back to normal size, making the pile shrink into the size of a small ant hill. He then picked it up, and tied it into a baggie. His job here was done. From the moment he stole findrel's key it was clear that he was a thief.
"Stealing just to cover a lie..." He mumbled as he grasped the baggie, putting it in his cloak. "Pathetic..."
With the window left open, a surge of wind suddenly blew in, and with it, a strange screech. Sounding like a single pin scratching along a table, it caught the guys attention. He ran to the window, and instantly caught sight of the witch and the boy she carried from afar. They were coming his way, and fast.
"Unbelievable... she plans to sacrifice that boy does she? Well it's about time I took care of them already anyhow." He said before turning back into the room. "I need something to throw..."
He started looking around, searching for something small enough to throw. At this point he kind of regetted clearing the room out, there was literally nothing he could find, but then he looked at the bed. The bed which he completely ignored had something on it. Silver, and round, he had never seen something like this before, but it was just perfect for throwing.
"That'll do." He said as he reached over the bed and grabbed it It was the elemental sphere, but to him it was just a way to take the witch out of the sky.
Walking back over to the window, he tossed the ball in his hand a few times and then aimed at the witch who was now just a bit away. Getting the correct focus proved to be difficult in the inclosed walls of the room. He sighed, and jumped onto the window ledge, spinning around, and climbing over it.
The winds were strong, but just like before, he climbed up swiftly until he got to the slanted roof top. Then he stood there, and began to aim once more. As he was aiming he noticed the circular indent on the ball, so out of curiosity, pushed it. Exactly the same as before, it started to glow dark blue, levitating with impulses of lightning.
At first he was startled, but seeing as the lightning was already running along his forearm and doing no damage, he grabbed the ball once more. The longer he held it, the more intense the lightning became, now zapping the roof below him. "This looks like it packs a punch..." He said before swallowing his breath, and steadying the aim of his hand.
Patiently he await for the perfect moment, when the wind stopped for just a moment, and then when it came, he threw the ball with explosive force. To the normal eye his arm would've seemed to disappear, that's how fast he threw the ball. From below it looked as if lightning itself had struck, quickly stopping short at the impact of it's destination. The witch's face.
In Allan's dream, he was still playing with his siblings, creating sparks with his fuzzy hair, but then everything started to get blurry. He was waking up, and the last thing he saw was the sparks that ran through the blankets come into reality -- running through the witch that held him.
Her body had become stiff, and shaking with each bolt that enticed her. She was so stunned that she couldn't even scream. From her face, the lightning from the ball pushed through out her entire body, slowly charring her inside and out. Unlike with Asiya earlier today, she did not guess, and therefor took the full impact of this child's play toy.
Allan had no idea of what had just happened, but he knew someone definitely saved him. Looking at the ball, he could see that someone used it as a weapon, for it was a toy for anyone that didn't know what it was. But before he could even react to any more of his surroundings, the wind blew off the witch's charred hands from her broomstick, sending her and Allan falling to the ground.
Almost instinctively, the man slid down the sloped roof top, and jumped off at the end, plunging himself at Allan.
With every pushing wind coming from many different directions, Allan didn't fall normally, and neither did the witch. Imagine being in the middle of a group of people, and each one pushing you back and forth to one another. This is what was happening, and they were falling fast at that.
The witch fell faster though. Her strangely large figure made her fall almost twice as fast as Allan, but Allan still fell fast non the less. Almost too fast for the man to catch up. The winds didn't have the same effect on him, no, but they had a different one. They pulled against his drapes, his hood, every fiber of his clothing, stopping him from reaching Allan any faster. Noticing that, he pulled off all his loosely hanging clothing, not caring for his concealment any longer.
Now it was only a matter of time before he caught him, but every millisecond that passed was precious as they weren't high enough to fall any longer than a few seconds. From far below them, a loud thump hit the top of one of the villages roofs. A crisped pancake the witch was, and soon Allan would be the same.
"Take my hand or you'll die!" The man yelled over Allan's historical screaming. He didn't have to say anything other than 'take my hand', because Allan would've grabbed it regardless, and he did.
He then pulled Allan within his arms straight away, and flipped over at the last second, landing squat down on his legs. The impact left an another loud thump amongst the roof tops, and a crater underneath him. As he stood up, Allan slowly wobbled out of his arms, and fell to his hands and knees.
"You're safe now, but you better get moving. She might come back from the dead and capture you once more." Said the man.
Allan stood quiet for a bit, breathing hard, and trying to understand what happened. Looking to his side, he noticed the crater that was made from the guys landing, and mumbled. "You're going... to have....bad knees."
The man smirked at his comment. To think his first words after all that would be a smart remark. "What's your name boy?" He asked.
Allan was about to reply, but then someone else did.
"Ala-kazam!" Choked the witch from the side of them on another roof.
The man grabbed Allan out of the way, and blocked the spell with a loose roof brick he picked up and threw in it's path. It exploded into a cloud of dust, leaving a silhouette of the witch's figure behind it before blowing off in the wind.
"Stay there." He said as he stood in front of Allan.
"How is she even alive?!" Allan yelled.
"You've betrayed us thief! You won't get away with this, you won't you won't, I will not allow it!" She screamed.
"Are you angry I betrayed you, or the fact that you had to use your extra heart to come back from the dead?" He asked her.
She grumbled, and coughed out blood.
"Although it seems you died the first time when you got hit by that ball." He continued.
"Alazakam, alakazam, alakazam!" She screamed, randomly flinging spells at him.
For every zap, the man threw a brick in it's path, dashing through the dust, and getting closer to her. She then attempted to use the most common low class fire spell. "Ignis pilla!"
"That won't work on me." The man said, placing his palm at the front of her wand. All the fire that would have normally accumulated at the tip of her wand twirled around the man's forearm, and into his palm.
"What did you do?!" The witch grumbled.
The man then put his palm on her chest, and pushed. An enormous amount of fire shot threw her back, leaving a charred hole through her stomach. She glared at him confusedly, and then fell to her back and died again.
"You killed her so easily!" Allan yelled from afar.
"She was the lowest rank of four. Any person with enough training could kill her." The man replied. "Come, look at the mark on her neck."
Allan was hesitant. Where he was standing was good enough for him. If the smell from her burning flesh wasn't enough, now he wanted him to do an autopsy. No, Allan wasn't having it. Any closer and he might've vomited. "I'm good." He said.
"Have it your way," He said as he stood up. "The next time you meet someone that practices the dark arts you won't know until you're half way across the world, being sacrificed by a group of people in cloaks."
"I've seen that mark before..the blue owl.." Allan said, beginning to breath heavily.
"Oh so have seen it?" He asked.
"Yes... at the shop.. the shop with.... Nikolai!" Allan yelled, before falling to his hands, panting uncontrollably.
"Hey!" He yelled, running over to him. "What's wrong, were you hit somewhere?" He began to check over Allan's body, but found nothing except for the pounding sensation of his heart beat. Allan's eye's then rolled back into his head, and he fell over. The man caught him before he hit the ground, and layed him down softly. "I don't have time for this." He grunted, and walked away.
As he was walking towards the edge, a longing feeling of responsibility had enticed his heart. It has been ever since he decided to save the boy, but now that he was leaving him alone. Passed out on some random roof, the feeling got stronger.
"Why do I feel like this..." He mumbled before clenching his fist, and grunting again. He then turned around upon deciding to go back. "Ok little boy, I'll help you." He said, picking him up, and throwing him over his shoulder.
In a swift leap, he jumped from the building, which wasn't very high, and began to walk through the Alley ways. He soon began to hear the roaring chattering of guards further away, coaxing him to run to them so that he may drop the boy off. Upon coming to the exit, he hid on the side of the wall, watching the few guards that ran that road. There were six of them, and among them, the skinny middle aged man from before that believed himself to be invincible.
"Witches are no match for me!" The man cheered.
"They are no match for him." Sung the rest of them.
"No matter who I'm up against, I will always win!" Sung the man.
Just like that, they cheered a song as they walked towards a tall burning bonfire in the middle of the road.
"He took his beer and drank it, and defeated the witches on a whim." Continued the chorus.
"I took a bath in fire, for I am the fires warrior."
"He then met the most powerful witch, and told her he would destroy her." Chorus song.
"Who am I?" Yelled the man as he approached the blazing flames.
"He is the essence of fire, he is the essence of fire, he is the essence of fire, he is the one, the child of the sun, and no one comes before him. The five other guards hit their glaves hard iron bottom on the ground, ending their chant in a bang.
"I will now bath in the fire we have created," He said raising his arms, and spinning around. "And go out to defeat the witches after I receive my immeasurable strength."
The group behind him stayed silent, watching him take off his gauntlets, and slowly reach for the flames.
Observing from the alley way, the man was baffled as to how this old guy had become so delusional. He knew for a fact he was about to hurt himself beyond repair, and his sense to help others kicked in. He gazed upon the fire, and unnoticeable to anyone else, it became calmer. Then as the man placed his hands within the flames, they did not burn him.
Seeing that his gamble had work, the delusional man was filled with reassurance, and laughed to the skies. "I'm am fire!" He yelled as he threw his entire body within the flames.
The guards were inspired. They all felt as if they had purpose in their lives now.
After a couple of seconds, the flames dyed out by the doing of the man in the alley way, but believing he had absorbed the fire, the idiot man walked out with an arrogant smirk on his face. Eyeing everyone of his lackies, they all began to smirk. "Let's go..." He said with confidence as they begun to march the opposite way of where the witches were killed.
The man that had controlled the fire looked at the boy, and then back at the guards. "They're not capable..." He mumbled before turning away, and vanishing with his next step.