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The Chronicles of Ludmilla

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Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Prologue: The Heretic

For every Magus born through time, every hero engraved for eternity was a legend just as grandly notable. Histories and stories etched on the ever expanding, everlasting and ever moving…wheel of Fortune.

Panting, that's all he could hear. Sprinting through this dark alleyway of deep shadows and foreboding emptiness, he ran like his very life depended on it, the soles of his feet paralyzed from the cold and dried in blood. Where was the enemy? The danger that led him through here like a mouse sprinting from a feline yet had reached a dead end. He glanced around him, gaze darting in all four directions but all he saw was a towering brick wall which seemed unreasonably terrifying now.

"Shit! Shit! They didn't tell me it would be like this, the hell was that thing!?"

He shouted, the tips of his fingers seemingly jutting through his hair as he held his head in a crazed manner unable to comprehend what had happened just a few hours prior. The screams, the shouts to run, they'd come here with a simple purpose of assassinating a noble family in hiding, the process was supposed to be that simple so why had it turned out this way?

"Are you tired of running now?"

He flinched, every hair on his body stood as that sweet calm voice only appropriate for a child had made it to his ears. He'd caught up, he'd ran for so long and even abandoned his friends simply to raise his chances of survival but even that wasn't enough…just who the hell was he?!

"S-Stay back!!"

He blurted but who the hell would feel intimidated over that? The Man…no it was actually a child that stepped forward, a little boy in nothing more than a tattered coat of deep brown, he dragged his feet through the cold and damp floors of Luran…feet that were glazed in a thick layer of crimson but from the looks of how he walked, so leisurely without a wince or reaction, that wasn't his blood.

The man grasped an item in his left hand with much fervor now, still glazed over in fear however did his hands start to tremble and the child noticed. It was a wicked smile that smeared his scarred face, his eyes of bright yet sickening emerald were filled with a desire for bloodshed.

"You've got courage!! Admirable and refreshing, it's a shame your allegiances lie in the fog" The boy said with an expression of sadness but the excitement and joy couldn't be hidden—no—he wasn't even trying to.

"Monster's!! What we stand for is justice!! For our souls to walk amongst her eminence once again, the false gods and ideologies of power must be wiped out!" He shouted, they were a group of heretics, mad men, blasphemers. the titles were endless but further away from the truth, there were secrets that the Republic and the empire kept hidden, a secret held within their towering church spires, gloomy buildings and greyed skies, a secret he detested.

his words however were in vain for they fell on deaf ears, unnervingly anxious for a fight.

"False Gods?" The child laughed, his face practically laced in ridicule as he stared at the man; "That's a lot of confidence coming from a man willing to worship a whittling wyvern over a true dragon"

"Those are no dragon's!!"

The boys face seemed to turn into one of contempt at those words, the emerald green in his eyes now harboring a glint of malice far more terrifying than the playful desire to bathe himself in his blood. His wand then flickered into his grasp from the large sleeves of the trench coat he wore, it was crystalline in nature, deep emerald and seemed to glow at his touch.

When the man saw this, he flinched. That wand, just how many lives had it seen and ended? He felt terrified, however, running had long since become an option scratched out and gone. Scampering for the resolve to hold his own wand straight and point it at the boy with a look of murder although trembling did the child smile at him, his wand now beginning to emit a strange and eatheril shade of green from its blunt tip.

"May his everlasting eminence of death, ruler of despair and who's wings cover all things dead and lurking be satisfied with this gift" said the child to which the man laughed mirthlessly.

"To hell with that damned lizard!!" His wand began emitting a bright light at its tip, a shade of crimson as he gazed with fury, trembling fear and conviction.

It was silent for a while, the two locked in gaze as both wands sat pointed at the ready till the child made a gesture and the man reacted.

"Fawning Flames!!"

"Silent Winds"