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ringulreith -> RE: =Elemental Championships 2009= Grand Finals (8/3/2009 17:15:49)
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Blaze was enveloped by light the likes of which he had never seen. All around him, tendrils of every single color moved about, weaving in and out of each other, twisting, turning, intertwining; it was as if something had taken the entire world apart, bending the threads of existence to their will, so that shapes unimaginable danced freely about in the void of creation. The light was soft, soothing to the vision, and calming to the mind. All of his aches gone; his worries dismissed; his weariness faded. He felt as if he was part of this ever moving web of color, like his entire being was a single thread, swaying in the winds of fate. He tried to move—but he had no body. He was only but a conscience, floating upon the eternal waves of time. He had no emotion, no feeling; as if he had ascended to a state of euphoria.
Am I… dead?
This thought passed through his mind, if he still had such a thing, akin to another of the threads of creation wrapping around his existence. But did he exist? And if this was death, it was truly a wonderful thing—more wonderful than describable. For one to emortally exist in an eternal dance so peaceful, as if it were born from innocence was truly magnificent. To forget all pain, be devoid of all emotion, what more could someone wish for? For one to be able to look back on their life, to enjoy the memories with no regret, no sadness…
Memmories flashed by inside Blaze’s brain, each being replaced as fast as it appeard; his life as a child; growing up with his first family, in a society where crime was encouraged and honor non-existent; running away from his home; finding refuge with the Drakestorms, a kind, honorable family; training to become a warrior; training with the paladins; protecting all that he loved and cherished; coming to the Elemental Championships to honor his lord, the lord of light; and finally, his last moments in Spike Arena—his katana swinging down at a young man’s shoulder, body aching, energy depleted, his blood being drained as it hit the cold blue metal floor. But as these memories winded through the bowels of his mind, he felt a sadness overcome him. As his life flashed by even now, he could not help thinking it had all gone to waste; most of it was spent training, training for a future that would not be there, and promicing to protect a world that he would not live to witness grow and thrive. If only he was still alive, he could have done so much more…
And you can…
Wha—but I am dead… Cursed to forever exist in this haven, knowing that I did little for my people, my world, my lord. I have failed him, dishonored him… A new sadness came over Blaze, one of not being able to honor his lord; quite the contrary, one of having dishonored him completely.
My child, you have done no such thing.
Hmm? Blaze was somewhat taken aback—was he not the only one here? And yet, here was this… voice, was it? No matter, it was talking to him… But how?
You have done well, my child.
Well? Well in what… I have died, failed to protect the world I vowed to do so, and have dishonored my lord.
No, Blaze Drakestorm, you have not. Quite the contrary, you have pleased me greatly…
M-My lord… Blaze tried to bow, to show some sign of respect, but alas, he could not. How could he bow when he had no body to do so?
Yes, Blaze. You have done much to uphold my honor throughout your life, and you have pleased me greatly. You shall be proceeding to represent me in the Elemental Championships.
So I have succeeded?
Yes you have, my child.
Thank you, my lord.
Now, rise, the sun’s fury!
As these last words echoed in Blaze’s mind, he saw the light surrounding him start to slow down dim. Slowly, the light disappeared, and was replaced with darkness.
Blinking and stretching his limbs, Blaze slowly opened his eyes. He was in a dark stone room, with the only source of light coming from ahead. He was sitting on the cold stone floor of the alcove, nude except for a soft linen loincloth. As he looked around him, he noticed that all of his equipment had been placed along the alcove’s left wall. His armor was there, set on a stand. As he examined it closely, he marveled at its newfound sheen. It had not looked this good ever since he had bought it. Every blemish, dent, even the finest particles of dust had been removed from it, leaving it gleaming brilliantly. Beside them hung his sword and shield, both shining like his armor, and beside them was a small platform where his clothing lay. But even more surprising than the new shine of his equipment was the lack of any scars on his body—lack of any pain, now that he thought of it. For this, more than anything else, he was happy.
He wasted no time in getting up and striding to where his possessions were. First came on a pair of new underclothes and a pair of socks; then his tunic and pants; then his greaves, covering his thighs; then his boots, soft and warm; then his vambraces, covering his lower arm; then his custom vest, with the front top half of it replaced by a light steel plate; finally, his scaled gauntlets were slipped on his hand, both adorned with a sun painting on the backside. Next came his sword and shield, falling into their places with practiced ease. Fully garbed, Blaze turned to the front of the room, and started walking forward. As he did so, a large, magnificent gate was lifted, as if acting on his whim.
The gate, however, did nothing but obscure the truly jaw-dropping seen behind it. In all of his life, Blaze had never witnessed such a magnificent display of the light lord’s power. A pillar of light, much taller than he was, stood just outside his room, shimmering and eluminating everything around it. It was truly magnificent. It was, indeed, so beautiful that Blaze had to stop his walking to admire it. It was only a fraction of the light lord’s power though, and Blaze knew this. Its light shined over his flowing platinum hair as he continued, his footsteps turning from loud echoing thuds to soft crunching as he emerged onto the arena sands. All around him, he could hear the loud din of the croud, like the annoying buzzing of a fly; but he knew it would not go away, knew he would have to endure it. So it was filed away in his mind, where it could not pester him.
As Blaze drew level with the pillar of light, he took a moment to examine the arena he was in. An octagonal field of red sand, with a pillar representing each element standing sentinel at each side, with another room much like his behind each. At one end, near a miniature tornado that he presumed to be the pillar of wind, he saw a young man dressed in armor much like his, wielding a longsword and a shield the same shape as his own. Blaze smiled at him. There was nowhere to hide, and this Blaze took on with a smile. As his observation finished, he knelt down in front of the light pillar, silently preying to the light lord. His prayer was silent, and nobody heard it but himself and the light lord.
He had been chosen, and he would show the world the power of light.
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