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#legend179# -> RE: Son of Time (7/5/2012 22:05:33)
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Chapter One
Deep within the forests of Sekai lies the small village of Deeproot, unchanged by time and untouched by the sword. Khyber Alamari, just fifteen years of age, had never seen the world outside of Deeproot until the day something strange happened...
Young Khyber ran across the field, play-sword fighting with his friends Ethran, Markas, and Eris. He jumped from left to right, always managing to dodge an attack, and easily managed to run behind Ethran and jab him in the back.
"Ow!" Ethran shouted, jumping forward and holding his hands on his back. "How'd you get back there so fast?"
Khyber just smirked and and sheathed his wooden sword. "I win." He stuck his tongue out playfully.
Eris slowly walked up behind Khyber and stuck her foot out behind his, nodding to Markas, who drew his sword and jabbed Khyber in the chest. He stepped backwards in surprise, tripping over Eris's foot and stumbling for a good ten feet before catching himself on a tree. "Hey, you cheated!" He shouted in protest.
Khyber quickly drew his sword and got into a balance stance, beckoning Markas. The young boy leaped forward, slicing and stabbing at Khyber's chest, but neither were able go get an edge on the other. Each attack Khyber attempted, Markas just barely managed to avoid or stop altogether, and the same for when he attacked Khyber. Their battle lasted for several minutes, for the two seemed equally matched in skill. They came to a halt with Markas's blade barely holding Khyber's away from his throat, noticing that they had moved nearly a hundred feet from where they had originally been. And they were right on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the sea.
"Khyber, we need to get back. This ledge can't be very stable." Markas said, stepping back and holding his blade down.
"Sounds like you're scared." He replied, stepping back and holding his blade at the ready.
A cruel grin crawled onto Markas's face as he leaped forward, bringing his sword down in and overhead swing. Khyber closed his eyes as he raised his blade, knowing he wouldn't be quick enough to block the blade. It was in that moment that he felt something surround him. No, it wasn't something surrounding him....it was the lack of something surrounding him. He had no idea what it was, or what was happening, but it seemed like it took Markas longer to strike than it should have. Khyber easily managed to bring his blade up to block, and as soon as he was in position, everything seemed normal again. What had been surrounding him before was there once more. And Markas's blade came down with full force.
The ground gave way under the combined weight of Khyber and the attack he was blocking, and he went down with it.
"Khyber!" Eris, Markas, and Ethran shouted in unison, running to the edge in an attempt to save their friend. But they were far too late.
* * * * *
His mind raced as he plummeted towards the jagged rocks below, thinking back over the last few years. He thought of the loved ones that would miss him. His mother and father. His brother and sister. His friends. Khyber knew that he was too young to die. It wasn't his time to go. It was wrong for him to die here.
The feeling suddenly overcame Khyber once again. He felt like something were missing, as though there was a force missing. A force that was always present, but unnoticeable until after it was gone. He clutched his eyes shut as a single tear rolled down his face, wishing he hadn't been so stupid and had followed Markas's suggestion before the cliff had given way.
The force was back. It was surrounding him once again. Khyber forced his eyes open, and was startled by what he saw. His blade was pressed again Markas's, and they were on the edge of the cliff.
"Khyber, we need to get back. This ledge can't be very stable." Markas said, stepping back and holding his blade down.
"Y-yeah, you're right." He replied, dropping his blade and jumping forward, not stopping to take a breath until he was far from the cliff.
* * * * *
Late that night, Khyber stood a few feet from the edge of the cliff, completely baffled by what had happened hours before. He had been falling. He was staring at Death's door. But then he hadn't fallen. He had been right back at the moment Markas told him to move away from the cliff. His mind raced through the events of that day, and no matter what he thought about, he always came back to one conclusion; he had been in control. Regardless of what had caused him to not fall off the cliff, he had been in control of it.
Khyber was drawn from his thoughts at the sound of coughing coming from behind him. He turned to find a middle-aged man in dark leather armor kneeling on one knee, coughing painfully into his hand.
Not Finished
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