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Flight of the Clockwork Empress

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Flight of the Clockwork Empress

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby ShrimpMayo on Fri Jun 06, 2014 7:07 am

Mayo speaks: Hello, this part of RPG. I just recently discovered that, hey! You can also share writing here. That's why I whipped this out. Ever since my random prompt generator said, "You are the number one suspect for a crime you didn't commit", this plot has assaulted my brain and would not leave. So I wrote it.
Things to know: English is not my native language so of course I'm no expert. This was also written on my phone where I have limited access to spelling and grammar checkers, so I apologize for mistakes. I am also not experienced in writing action scenes, so fight scenes included in the story might not be graphically accurate. I am also not an expert in magic, weapons, and the general world that this story is set in, but I really want to try my hand at it so I apologize for mistakes. The main character's weapon here is a war scythe. No, it's not one of those reaper scythes, it's the useful weapon scythe. Many thanks to FantasyNameGenerators for its general awesomeness and help in generating names for this story. Oh, and iTranslate. I've rambled on enough, let's get this story going

Chapter One

The heavy rain muffles the rapid footsteps of the lone traveler in the muddied ground. The howling wind bites brutally at the skin beneath their hood. Heavy droplets fall and block their vision, but they continue to run. Run, as fast as their feet can take them. Their robe flaps behind them, the harsh weather tearing down the wool material. Their boot sinks in the damp soil and it takes a huge show of strength to pull it back out. They continue running as though the little hindrance hadn't happened. There's no time for to slow down. They must run. Their persecutors are already catching up.

Hooves of two horses tear through the earth as they chase the hooded figure. Their riders, two heavily armored men, urge them to go faster. Behind their visors, their eyes narrow in on the shadowy figure that's quickly becoming closer. The horses neigh as if sensing that their chase is about to come to an end and their legs run faster, eager to get the quest done. They make great time against the on foot runaway, and soon enough, the hooded figure is nothing more than a foot away.

The hooded figure suddenly stops, their feet skidding on the mud as they keep perfect balance. The two horses take a little longer to collect theirs at the sudden halt, but they soon recover and circle the figure. The guards draw their swords as a bolt of lightning strikes overhead, illuminating the golden insignia of the Kingdom on the hilt of their swords. The tips of their blades pointed at their sole enemy, they prepared for a battle that could very well end their lives.

For a few heartbeats, the figure is still. The horses had just rounded around her a second time as a particularly strong gust of wind blows, pulling back the hood and revealing the face of the hunted. Her hair is instanly soaked by the heavy pour. A second bolt of lightning strikes to be immediately followed by the roar of thunder, and the auburn haired woman raises her gloved left hand. Her movement is swift as she rips off the glove and slaps it to the soil, the marking running from the tips of her fingertips and disappearing beneath her cloak begins to glow an eery blood red light, which causes the horses to raise their legs in the air. It throws the two knights off balance and they fall to the ground; simultaneously, an alchemy circle forms around the woman and her lips form the words to a language unknown to the men, "Aus der Dunkelheit fordere ich Sie."

The moment the words leave her lips, the night stills. Leaves are caught in midair. A lightning bolt pauses a mere inch before it strike a nearby tree. The knights halt in their descent to the earth. Time stills.

Her hair is soaked and sticks to her face, strands of dark hair forming a veil over her eyes. Still, it is not enough to hinder the bright neon red glow of her usually pale green eyes. Now, raw power erupts in them as she hold both hands out, poised to hold a long weapon. "Death Scalpel, hervorkommen!" she screams into the night, her voice hoarse and echoing in the silence.

The knights fall with a loud thud, but they are quick to get to their feet. One of them gasps as he takes in the sight of the woman they had been sent to capture holding in her hands a weapon they've never seen before. A war scythe with a snath almost five feet in length and made of a dark blue material unknown to mankind. Its blade is wider than an average scythe's and its inside curves into a crescent perfect for tearing flesh, the sigil of the Clockwork Empress - two gears inside an alchemist's cirlce - carved into the metal. The other tip of her weapon holds a small and equally sharp blade imbued with a dark stone that oddly resembles an eye.

She lets the toe of the blade touch the ground as she locks her eye on one of thd knights; the eerie glow surrounding her weapon a stark similar to the shine her eyes have taken. The knight shakes and scarmbles to grab his fallen sword, but she is faster. Her left foot plants firmly in front of her and she performs an arc, her blade slicing through the sheet of rain that's continually falling all around them. In that millisecond, a half of her battle is over. The knight falls on his back with soft thump, blood escaping from underneath his armor.

The remaining knight hurries to his feet, weapon clutched desperately in hand. Despite the shaking of his legs, he holds his stance with determination. If he dies, it would be for the Kingdom. Still, he isn't one to wish his life to end so quickly, so he tries, albeit futilely, to convince the woman to come in peace. "Clo-Clockwork Empress," he begins with a shaky voice. His teeth rattle both from fear and the cold weather. "You-You are an enemy of t-the state. Come sile-silently and accept your just-your just punishment."

She turns slowly from her hovering position over the fallen knight as she takes in the remaining knight's form. She can see that underneath the heavy armor, his body is built for fighting and that he is stronger and faster than the fallen one. His sword, albeit slightly shaking, is imbued with a magic she is very much familiar with. Its blade glows a bright yellow and she frowns at its strength. The man doesn't see it, of course. He isn't of magic. He does not know the true strength of the weapon he's wielding and perhaps the Empress could use that to her advantage. She twists her body forward, her grip on the scythe hard and calculated. The toe of the blade centers in on her opponent, merely a few feet away.

He wields a short range weapon and is at an advantage, but she will not let that deter her.

Rain continues to pour around them, creating a veil in their vision. Lightning strikes, and the knight makes his move. He rushes forward, sword held overhead, with a thunderous battle cry. She easily parries the attack and pushes the knight away. He stumbles on his feet and puts a considerable distance between them. Much better, the Empress thinks as she positions herself for her move. Her hands firmly in place, she swings the scythe around, forming an arc similar to when she attacked the first knight. But this knight sees it and he manages to duck in time, and lunge forward to thrust his sword into his opponent's chest.

The Empress sees this and releases the grip of her left hand on the weapon. She raises it towards the attacking man, the markings glowing yet again, as she mutters, "Entfernt." The man illumintes in a red glow as he is pushed away by an invisible force and slammed into a tree. Breath escapes his lungs in a harsh exhale and the weapon falls from his hand. She is quick to push it away with her scythe.

She shakes her head as she takes a step towards him. He makes a move to attack, but her raised hand renders him motionless. "False accussations," she says tersely before nodding to the fallen knight. "Bring your friend to the nearest healer and leave me be, or I shall wipe you out as well and have him die of blood loss." The scythe lifts until the tip of its blade rests against the knight's breastplate. "Your choice."

The rain has stopped and dawn finds the young woman swaying on her feet as she walks aimlessly forward. Her clothes are tattered, ruined by the storm, and her eyes droop with exhaustion. She hadn't meant to exhaust her magic, but the small show of force added to the fact that she hadn't had a proper rest in days is starting to take its toll on her. Her face twists in agony as a pang of loss hits her body in a tidal wave. She cannot see it, but she knows that the dark purple gem embedded to her choker is starting to crack. Her magic is dwindling and, in turn, so will her life.

She needs to find shelter, or else... Her fingers move to carress the gem as she murmurs, "Nephtrandite, Zeig mir das Licht der Hoffnung." The world spins around her as the edges of her vision blurs into the abyss. She feels consciousness slip from her grasp. The last thing she sees before she's swallowed by darkness is the silhouette of a bunny in the distance and the ground rapidly approaching her vision.


The Empress turned her eyes away from the view outside the window and regarded the only other occupant of the room with a small smile. The taller and older woman pulled herself up to sit on one of the counters filled with bottles containing various colored liquids. She huffed a puff of air to push the stray strand of blonde hair that had fallen over her sapphire eyes. Beneath her pristine white lab coat, the Crimson Lady's sigil was printed on her shirt.

"Sive?" Elodie called out as she approached the older woman. "All the other magi my age are training outside. Can't I join them?"

Sive's eyes softened at the young magi's words. "You know why, Clockwork Empress," she emphasised the green-eyed girl's title. They both knew the relevance of name and how it has bound Elodie all her life like unbreakable chains. Sive petted Elodie's hair with a sad smile, "You're simply stuck with me, Eli."

A small grin crept its way to Elodie's lips. "Stuck with you?" She made faux-gagging gestures, which earned her a playful chop on the head from her mentor. She held her head with a small pout. "Abuse!"

"Shut up," Sive said whilst chuckling, Elodie laughing along with her. In that moment, everything was fine between the two of them, but the moment was over as quick as it started. Sive's lips curled down as she suddenly went silent, bringing the atmosphere of the room down with her. Elodie's eyes narrowed in on her mentor.

"What's wrong?"

Sive's eyes hardened as she firmly grabbed at Elodie's arms. "Listen to me, Eli." The serious tone her voice had taken was enough to make Elodie stiffen. Never before has she heard her mentor speak in such a grave manner. "For the last few years, I've constantly been at your side. I have protected you from others' wrath and from the brevity of your own powers, but I will not always be by your side."

A feeling of dread gripped at Elodie's person and she shook off the blonde's hands on her shoulders. She took a step backwards, eyes wide and unbelieving. "What are you trying to say, Sive?"

Sive sighed. She had expected this reaction, but the countless practice sessions in front of the mirror she had done prior was not enough to help her in actually getting her point across. Still, she had to try for the sake of Elodie. "You know I love you, right? You are like the younger sister I never had." When Elodie gave no response, Sive was given no choice but to continue to try and break the bad news. "I will not be here long."

"Why?" the Empress asked in a short, clipped tone.

Sive gives a small and sad smile. "I'm sick, Elodie."

Sick. The word shook Elodie like a polaroid. She shook her head. "No." Her voice was shaky and watery, but Sive could do nothing. "No," she repeated, this time firmer than before. "Go to a healer."

Sive shook her head in a silent defeat. "There is no cure."

"You just haven't looked hard enough. We're magic, for the sake of all that is holy!" Elodie all but screamed. Her eyes shut tight in an effort to expel the pain gripping at her heart.

Sive jumped down from the counter, feeling the ground under her feet begin to shake. Her trained eyes quickly spotted the way Elodie's entire body shook, how her fists clenched so tightly that she white knuckled. She saw the air around Elodie begin to shift, much like it always did when her magic activated itself. The markings on the young woman's arms lit up, and Sive knew she must step in before things got too much out of hand.

She didn't fancy getting lost for all eternity in a timeless abyss even if her health was quickly deteriorating. So, she did the only thing she knew would work. She moved cautiously towards the unseeing woman and engulfed her in an embrace. The Empress struggled against the arms, but Sive held on. She began to hum a lullaby that never failed to calm the young magi.

Quickly enough, Elodie began to lose the tension in her shoulders and she clung to Sive as though her life depended on it. And for someone who never had anyone in her corner other than Sive, it kind of did. "Don't go. Please don't leave me-"

Her words were muted by the bang of the doors suddenly being swung open. Seven men garbed in the Royal Guard's uniform marched in, swords drawn. Sive immediately moved to put herself between Elodie and the knights. She openned her lips to demand what they're doing in their laboratory, but her words were cut off by the appearance of the Guard's Captain, Xylia Remes. Her dark hair swung behind her with every measured step and her cold, grey eyes zeroed in on the cowering Elodie.

Her words are clipped and harsh. "Clockwork Empress, Elodie Peyre, you are under arrest for the murder of King Lytton's son, the Prince Antoine."

-End of Chapter One-

I'm working on a short story: Flight of the Clockwork EmpressHit me up on Tumblr

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Re: Flight of the Clockwork Empress

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby shadowthelost on Wed Jul 09, 2014 2:52 pm

That, to be honest was quite good. Very descriptive, I think for a first chapter.
Who...really cares. It's just...

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