The festival should have been filled with laughter and joy but those who were running for their lives were feeling anything but that right now. Petrified and afraid of the old menacing figure who was spreading his evil amongst them, uncaring as to how many he hurt. A figure who radiated greed and evil with a sneering expression that only made him appear even more arrogant. He had come to this place for one reason, to ruin the spirit of the season and to hoard all of the valuables that were left behind for himself. A selfish being of the worst kind, his magical aura filled with darkness and misery.
Shuffling along, the old man would direct his spirit, a ghostly girl in appearance to do his bidding. She would swoop and chase after people, creating horrible amounts of fear that would corrupt the minds of the poor victims, as well as freeze them solid with the powers of ice. Giggling all the while, she seemed to thoroughly enjoy her task and soon enough, the once warm and inviting festival had been turned into an ice covered ghost town, with seemingly no one willing to stand in the way. It truly did seem as though she and her master would be allowed to just do whatever they wished.
That was until another figure came into view, dressed in a set of red and dark blue armour, her expression completely devoid of any emotion. Her yellow eyes simply bored into those of the old man, almost as if she was looking through him. Just another insect to be removed, another being of darkness to be destroyed and another foe to be brutally defeated. There was no mercy or joy in her gaze, just a simple desire to end him. He had made a grave error in attacking the festival and it fell to the woman to deliver his punishment.
“Stay where you are,” she commanded, her voice emotionless and cold, “You have made a terrible mistake by attacking these people and it falls to me to rectify it. I do not care why you decided to strike at those who were enjoying themselves nor does it matter. There is only one resolution to this. You, dead at my feet. I will treat you precisely as you have treated your victims and perhaps then, you will find forgiveness before I deliver the finishing blow. I will not bargain nor be bought off. You have sealed your own fate, the moment you cast your first spell.”
The old man simply laughed in response, a scratchy cackle that seemed to reverberate around the frozen festival. “You are incredibly overconfident in your abilities, child,” he then replied, “Do not simply think of me as a miserable old fool. I am more than capable of taking on someone of your level and I must admit that I was becoming rather tired of facing cowards such as these insects. From the looks of you, I would say that you are not all that different from me. Twisted, warped and cursed by something beyond your comprehension. By the time this is over, I will know everything there is to know about you and drag every fearful moment from your miserable existence out for the world to see.”
There was no response from the blonde haired woman, who instead simply drew an ice covered blade that had been attached to her back and sprinted forwards, using her abilities to increase her movement speed. With another laugh, he would snap his fingers and cause the spirit to block her path, unleashing a burst of ice shards that Kalama was forced to swiftly block with her sword. Ice met ice in a battle of wills although the mage admirably defended herself, performing a deft combination of defensive swings in order to protect herself. So many hours had been spent honing her abilities and they were now blossoming. For a while, it seemed to be a stalemate but eventually the mage began to move forwards, cutting through the shards and starting to plough onwards again. Surprised, the spirit would then access her second magic, launching a tendril of black energy that travelled towards the mage and managed to slip through her guard, striking her in the chest and tapping into her psyche.
With a grunt, Kalama would try to fight despite the attack but as the fear began to flood her mind, her eyes widened as the memories began to rise to the surface. That day. That fateful day. When her and Aoi’s lives had been changed forever. The day the curse had been awakened in both of them, as well as the death of the rest of their village. She could see every horrific moment as if it was happening now. Images of the souls of her fellow villages being forced out of their bodies, every scream of anguish, every field of crops that had suddenly turned brown in a moment. The sight of Aoi lying motionless on the ground, the curse having already made its mark on her and finally, the moments where Kalama had felt her own emotions be drained from her. Every single positive feeling had been sapped from her, leaving as little more than an empty shell, filled with misery, self loathing and disgust. A sense of being that she had been locked into ever since.
Falling to her knees as the memories continued to flood, the old man would laugh evilly as he stepped forward, “My, my. It has been some time since I last found a target that carried such darkness within them. My spirit here has not fed as well for so long and I am tempted to take you with me as a source of nourishment. I warned you not to underestimate me and now you are paying the price for that mistake. Kalama. Yes, that is your name, is it not?”
He would briefly turn to his spirit, who nodded her head in answer, having retrieved the information through her fear powers. “Yes, Master Scrooge. Her thoughts also seem to be focused mainly on another young woman. Aoi, from what I can tell. They appear to be very close from what I am seeing.”
“Fascinating,” Scrooge replied, “Then perhaps once I have finished with you, I will visit your lady friend. If her thoughts are as dark as yours then I am sure Past here will be able to have another lovely feast.”
Any other threat and perhaps Kalama would have paid no attention to it, lost in the magic of the spirit. As it was, it seemed to strike at Kalama’s heart directly and instilled with her a sudden burst of adrenaline and resolve. The fear that had been drilled into her was being washed away by something else. Anger, an anger that she had not experienced since before she had been cursed. The spirit and her masters threats had managed to break through the barrier that had blocked her from her emotions for so long. Pure hatred pulsed through her veins and with a violent shake of her head, she managed to shake off the spirits magic.
Stepping back, the spirit would try to back up and collect herself but that Kalama returned to her feet at that moment and unleashed a powerful burst of lightning that tore through her defences. Howling in pain, the ghostly spirit collapsed to the ground, twitching horribly as the bolts fried her. Scrooge himself backed away in alarm and after about ten seconds of the horrifying sight, the spirit would explode, returning back to her realm, much to her summoner's shock.
Her muscles twitching slightly, Kalama would activate an ability that she had always been reluctant to use, having struggled to use it in the past due to her lack of feeling. Yet now, with her body pulsing with anger, it could not have been a more appropriate time to use it. Tapping into her newly found rage, her body would start to crackle with a red coloured force energy, her gaze burning with power and wrath. Taking her sword in hand once again, she would charge forwards once again, her sword swinging for the old man’s head, consumed with rage.
Again, he would tap into his box of tricks and summon another spirit. An older woman, who looked quite similar to the first one, riding a reindeer steed. Kalama was having none of it, however, raising her hand and launching a powerful push of force power that sent the rider flying off of her mount and crashing into a tree. As for the mount? Well, she wasted no time and leapt up into the air, coming down with an almighty blow that removed the beast's head from its body, resulting in it crumpling to the floor.
The rider recovered at this point, drawing her own ice covered blade, ready for battle although a little groggy. Kalama simply summoned a second blade, made of pure moonlight and darted towards the woman, resulting in a brutal sword fight. The spirits' desperate defence against Kalama’s rage fuelled offense. it was a devastating display of aggression and was only a matter of time before the blonde broke through the spirits’ defence and delivered an all mighty blow with both of her blades, defeating the second spirit.
It seemed the Scrooge had realised his error and wasted no time in unleashing yet another spirit, a cloaked one that had little in the way of features. However, Kalama had no time for it and simply threw her moon blade at the being, piercing it through the chest and causing it to writhe with agony. The mage would then burst into moonlight, teleporting to her blade and releasing a burst of light when she reappeared, causing the spirit to shriek even more. Mercilessly, the blonde would then pull out her moonlight blade, before delivering another dual blow with both swords to send it back to the spirit realm.
Before Scrooge could do anything else, Kalama would cause her blade to disappear and release a projectile shaped like her hand towards him, resulting in it wrapping around his throat. Once the spell made contact, the blonde would start to clench her hand into a fist, gripping the old man’s throat and causing him to desperately struggle to breath as he was lifted into the air. Caught in her grip, there was nowhere for him to go and as she squeezed the life out of him, his movements began to slow until with one last squeeze, a horrible snapping could be heard as his neck broke, resulting in his body tumbling to the floor.
Her foe defeated, the mage would then take a few steps forward and stand over his lifeless corpse. Her expression was one of pure hatred, a sensation that she had been robbed of for so long. The damn had broken and as Kalama simply stared, she began to feel slightly overwhelmed by the sudden rush. It was not only anger that she felt and as her emotions returned to her in spades, she simply had no idea about how to handle them. It was all so much to deal with and so in desperation, she simply looked to the heavens and screamed at the top of her lungs, unleashing a torrent of force power that could have split the sky. A roar of not only victory but one of unbridled desperation. She felt so much anger, joy, sadness at that moment and her only solution was simply to screech to the heavens for an answer. It was all so much to take and the smallest part of her could not help think that perhaps she would have been better off not rediscovering her feelings.
What on Earthland would she do now and how could she possibly relearn how to control her emotions, having been robbed of them for so long? It felt like she was starting again from scratch.
(2002 Words)
Shuffling along, the old man would direct his spirit, a ghostly girl in appearance to do his bidding. She would swoop and chase after people, creating horrible amounts of fear that would corrupt the minds of the poor victims, as well as freeze them solid with the powers of ice. Giggling all the while, she seemed to thoroughly enjoy her task and soon enough, the once warm and inviting festival had been turned into an ice covered ghost town, with seemingly no one willing to stand in the way. It truly did seem as though she and her master would be allowed to just do whatever they wished.
That was until another figure came into view, dressed in a set of red and dark blue armour, her expression completely devoid of any emotion. Her yellow eyes simply bored into those of the old man, almost as if she was looking through him. Just another insect to be removed, another being of darkness to be destroyed and another foe to be brutally defeated. There was no mercy or joy in her gaze, just a simple desire to end him. He had made a grave error in attacking the festival and it fell to the woman to deliver his punishment.
“Stay where you are,” she commanded, her voice emotionless and cold, “You have made a terrible mistake by attacking these people and it falls to me to rectify it. I do not care why you decided to strike at those who were enjoying themselves nor does it matter. There is only one resolution to this. You, dead at my feet. I will treat you precisely as you have treated your victims and perhaps then, you will find forgiveness before I deliver the finishing blow. I will not bargain nor be bought off. You have sealed your own fate, the moment you cast your first spell.”
The old man simply laughed in response, a scratchy cackle that seemed to reverberate around the frozen festival. “You are incredibly overconfident in your abilities, child,” he then replied, “Do not simply think of me as a miserable old fool. I am more than capable of taking on someone of your level and I must admit that I was becoming rather tired of facing cowards such as these insects. From the looks of you, I would say that you are not all that different from me. Twisted, warped and cursed by something beyond your comprehension. By the time this is over, I will know everything there is to know about you and drag every fearful moment from your miserable existence out for the world to see.”
There was no response from the blonde haired woman, who instead simply drew an ice covered blade that had been attached to her back and sprinted forwards, using her abilities to increase her movement speed. With another laugh, he would snap his fingers and cause the spirit to block her path, unleashing a burst of ice shards that Kalama was forced to swiftly block with her sword. Ice met ice in a battle of wills although the mage admirably defended herself, performing a deft combination of defensive swings in order to protect herself. So many hours had been spent honing her abilities and they were now blossoming. For a while, it seemed to be a stalemate but eventually the mage began to move forwards, cutting through the shards and starting to plough onwards again. Surprised, the spirit would then access her second magic, launching a tendril of black energy that travelled towards the mage and managed to slip through her guard, striking her in the chest and tapping into her psyche.
With a grunt, Kalama would try to fight despite the attack but as the fear began to flood her mind, her eyes widened as the memories began to rise to the surface. That day. That fateful day. When her and Aoi’s lives had been changed forever. The day the curse had been awakened in both of them, as well as the death of the rest of their village. She could see every horrific moment as if it was happening now. Images of the souls of her fellow villages being forced out of their bodies, every scream of anguish, every field of crops that had suddenly turned brown in a moment. The sight of Aoi lying motionless on the ground, the curse having already made its mark on her and finally, the moments where Kalama had felt her own emotions be drained from her. Every single positive feeling had been sapped from her, leaving as little more than an empty shell, filled with misery, self loathing and disgust. A sense of being that she had been locked into ever since.
Falling to her knees as the memories continued to flood, the old man would laugh evilly as he stepped forward, “My, my. It has been some time since I last found a target that carried such darkness within them. My spirit here has not fed as well for so long and I am tempted to take you with me as a source of nourishment. I warned you not to underestimate me and now you are paying the price for that mistake. Kalama. Yes, that is your name, is it not?”
He would briefly turn to his spirit, who nodded her head in answer, having retrieved the information through her fear powers. “Yes, Master Scrooge. Her thoughts also seem to be focused mainly on another young woman. Aoi, from what I can tell. They appear to be very close from what I am seeing.”
“Fascinating,” Scrooge replied, “Then perhaps once I have finished with you, I will visit your lady friend. If her thoughts are as dark as yours then I am sure Past here will be able to have another lovely feast.”
Any other threat and perhaps Kalama would have paid no attention to it, lost in the magic of the spirit. As it was, it seemed to strike at Kalama’s heart directly and instilled with her a sudden burst of adrenaline and resolve. The fear that had been drilled into her was being washed away by something else. Anger, an anger that she had not experienced since before she had been cursed. The spirit and her masters threats had managed to break through the barrier that had blocked her from her emotions for so long. Pure hatred pulsed through her veins and with a violent shake of her head, she managed to shake off the spirits magic.
Stepping back, the spirit would try to back up and collect herself but that Kalama returned to her feet at that moment and unleashed a powerful burst of lightning that tore through her defences. Howling in pain, the ghostly spirit collapsed to the ground, twitching horribly as the bolts fried her. Scrooge himself backed away in alarm and after about ten seconds of the horrifying sight, the spirit would explode, returning back to her realm, much to her summoner's shock.
Her muscles twitching slightly, Kalama would activate an ability that she had always been reluctant to use, having struggled to use it in the past due to her lack of feeling. Yet now, with her body pulsing with anger, it could not have been a more appropriate time to use it. Tapping into her newly found rage, her body would start to crackle with a red coloured force energy, her gaze burning with power and wrath. Taking her sword in hand once again, she would charge forwards once again, her sword swinging for the old man’s head, consumed with rage.
Again, he would tap into his box of tricks and summon another spirit. An older woman, who looked quite similar to the first one, riding a reindeer steed. Kalama was having none of it, however, raising her hand and launching a powerful push of force power that sent the rider flying off of her mount and crashing into a tree. As for the mount? Well, she wasted no time and leapt up into the air, coming down with an almighty blow that removed the beast's head from its body, resulting in it crumpling to the floor.
The rider recovered at this point, drawing her own ice covered blade, ready for battle although a little groggy. Kalama simply summoned a second blade, made of pure moonlight and darted towards the woman, resulting in a brutal sword fight. The spirits' desperate defence against Kalama’s rage fuelled offense. it was a devastating display of aggression and was only a matter of time before the blonde broke through the spirits’ defence and delivered an all mighty blow with both of her blades, defeating the second spirit.
It seemed the Scrooge had realised his error and wasted no time in unleashing yet another spirit, a cloaked one that had little in the way of features. However, Kalama had no time for it and simply threw her moon blade at the being, piercing it through the chest and causing it to writhe with agony. The mage would then burst into moonlight, teleporting to her blade and releasing a burst of light when she reappeared, causing the spirit to shriek even more. Mercilessly, the blonde would then pull out her moonlight blade, before delivering another dual blow with both swords to send it back to the spirit realm.
Before Scrooge could do anything else, Kalama would cause her blade to disappear and release a projectile shaped like her hand towards him, resulting in it wrapping around his throat. Once the spell made contact, the blonde would start to clench her hand into a fist, gripping the old man’s throat and causing him to desperately struggle to breath as he was lifted into the air. Caught in her grip, there was nowhere for him to go and as she squeezed the life out of him, his movements began to slow until with one last squeeze, a horrible snapping could be heard as his neck broke, resulting in his body tumbling to the floor.
Her foe defeated, the mage would then take a few steps forward and stand over his lifeless corpse. Her expression was one of pure hatred, a sensation that she had been robbed of for so long. The damn had broken and as Kalama simply stared, she began to feel slightly overwhelmed by the sudden rush. It was not only anger that she felt and as her emotions returned to her in spades, she simply had no idea about how to handle them. It was all so much to deal with and so in desperation, she simply looked to the heavens and screamed at the top of her lungs, unleashing a torrent of force power that could have split the sky. A roar of not only victory but one of unbridled desperation. She felt so much anger, joy, sadness at that moment and her only solution was simply to screech to the heavens for an answer. It was all so much to take and the smallest part of her could not help think that perhaps she would have been better off not rediscovering her feelings.
What on Earthland would she do now and how could she possibly relearn how to control her emotions, having been robbed of them for so long? It felt like she was starting again from scratch.
(2002 Words)
