There was a time, when the oceans cried in despair as hellish fire consumed them all. A time my grandfather remembers vividly as a tale spread through the mouths of my ancestor...
The time when everything was in despair because of one demon who emerged as the devil, the one who was not the progenitor yet ruled over ever demon that came before him, he was not an angel but he was the second devil to ever dominate the race of angels before his ultimately demise at the hands of a man feared by all, who took advantage of his weakened state.
The devil's face and name remained unknown as even an utterance was feared to re-ignite the dwindled flame... Few years later, the existence of system changed the whole memories around, and now no one knows about the devil except for me as I was the only one who believed in the legends that were otherwise thought of as an illusion of my grandfather...
The cool breeze of air, and the chirping of the birds outside perched against the hard barked trees made the eyes of James, a young man in his 16, flutter open as he blinked for a few seconds to let the fogginess of his dreary dream fade into nothingness for dreams had no meaning in the living world.
His jadelike eyes twinkled under the ray of light coming from the open window looking at the cotton curtains swing in a rhythm as he got up from his resting place and smoothened out the creases of his grey robes that was loose fitting.
Briefly he yawned, as he looked around his rooms observing some of the trinkets that his cousins had given him, all with some kind of expensive stones embedded inside. The clock on the wall dinged as the hour hand reached the house of [10 AM]
He paid no heed as he took some steps to the mirror in front of him that leaned against one of the tables containing those precious jewelries, even when he said he had no need for those, but his father knew his liking to shiny objects that seemed dazzling and so during every month whenever his father went to excavation sites with his troop to be a savior for the people trapped there, he always brought James such things.
James took a look in the mirror, for he ought to readjust his appearance that was completely unruly and untidy. So, he went to the bathroom and came back a few minutes later standing in front of the mirror with some new robes that had their clan's dragon's emblem that had been painted red like the hollow moon.
He wrapped his long black hair into a ponytail with a black band, his pale face delicately handsome and his build was statured towards endurance more than strength though it would be wrong to say that he had no strength in those fists of his.
Many girls were in love with him, but he paid them no heed, for he knew if they understood his real personality they would all depart just like bees after consuming the nectar of pollen seeking to go to their abode. No matter what you look like, it wouldn't hide the weakness of yours The reflection in the mirror whispered dreamily, his eyes glazed in thoughts that were not of this world.
I know, but at least unlike you my dear friend, I don't waste time on lament James retorted with a pompous smile that seemed to make the reflection grunt in anger. He swiftly turned his head to the bed, looking away from the mirror that fed his delusion like the owner of the hellhound living right next to them.
He opened the door of his room, but he didn't leave I am missing something the thought passed as he narrowed his eyes in an attempt to remind his brain of the missing memories, Oh right! I am missing my dagger.
With a flair, he retraced his steps and slid the sheets off the mattress looking underneath his bed that had a slight gap underneath enough for someone's hands to enter along with some insects but since he usually kept his room clean, no pesky bugs could bug him out during the departure to the dreary dream world of his.
Underneath the gap, he could see the gleam of silver which generated a smile on his face as he without a grunt forced his right hand inside, drumming the floor for his weapons and then he felt something hard that had slight borders to it The handle, He thought as he tightly wrapped all five fingers of his around and with a grunt leaving him, he pulled it out.
The dust underneath flew out along with the dagger making him cough as the smell of cobwebs were quite off-putting making him curse under his breath Oh god why do spiders scamper around even when I try so hard to extinguish their races. Go live in another house why do you persist to stay in here!? Nevertheless, he was not ready to ruin his mood for an itsy-bitsy spider. The dust particles danced in front of the sun rays as he got up coughing, must be the allergy's effect.
He got up, as he pushed against the pavement gazing down at his right hand clenching the dagger tightly almost as if it would grow legs before it ran away. A dagger roughly 9 inches, with the polished silver blade curved at the end (good for slashing) as the handle was red in color marked with the runic symbol of their pagan god Barthomos.
"JAMES! COME DOWNSTAIRS" The screams of his father distracted him quite, and so he sighed grabbing a brown leather sheath on his desk perfect for the dagger which he sheathed before hooking it to his brown belt.
I wonder what does he want now? James thought with a frown as he still didn't like his family so even after they did lots for him as the memories of his childhood still plagued like a parasite in a plant's body.