Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Chapter 4

Michael eyes opened, however with much difficulty. An intense glare of light pierced his eyes. His bones ached, his muscles were stiff and his mind was still a blur. Around him, he heard mutterings like “he’s awake” and “hey, are you alright?” He groaned in pain as he turned around and was greeted by Samuel’s relieved face.

“You were out cold for a few days, what were you doing in the hallway of Zoromak?” asked Samuel as gently as he could. Michael tired to get up and was helped by Samuel. Here, he saw Frederick, the announcer of the games who had his signature bright vermilion suit on, Thomas, his good messy-haired friend since he was young who now wore a cloak around his navy blue shirt. His belt had bottles and vials strapped on to it. And surprisingly, Triton, who was sitting in one corner of the room in a more causal piece of clothing with his large hammer strapped to his back.

“You ok chap?” said Fredrick with a sense of merriment.

“Just fine, thank you. Thomas! I did not know you were here. You were supposed to be in Crimsonhills practicing your alchemy.” Replied Michael as he massaged his bruised head to make him feel more comfortable.

“Well, your old friend here decided to come and cheer you on. I spotted him just after your match with Triton.” said Samuel while giving a harsh glance towards Thomas, “You have good friends here Michael.” Thomas just simply smiled towards Michael.

Michael looked at his limbs and chest. They all had burn marks scarred onto them. He tried to massage one, but was felt painful stings as he did. He quickly returned his hand and sighed with worry.

“Our healers couldn’t remove them, sad to say.” Apologized Frederick, “I’ve never seen burn marks like these since I saw a Daemon. Hah! Fought one myself I did.”

Michael’s gaze turned to Triton and immediately Samuel spoke, “We found out that he experienced similar burns. We also realized that he could not remember anything from that match or anything after he stepped into the arena. It was as though he was possessed by someone…”

“Or something…” Triton interrupted, now standing in front of Michael, “this only happened after I fought with this dark… assassin if my judgment was correct, before I set off for the arena. He was a tough opponent, swift and deadly. But one folly from him made him open. I struck, but to my amazement, flames that burned like the pit of hell scorched through my veins. Although I did not fall unconscious like you did, I would sometimes have this gap in my mind. I gap that I could not recall what fit in it and strange things always happened after that.”

Michael stared down thinking, “Could he be possessed at this very instant? He could not tell. But one thing was certain was that he would find out who or what Satan was talking to and-”

“Satan!” , that name flooded his mind with anger and hate, yet was also filled it with pity and compassion. Satan had been used by this “thing” and had suffered from it. “Frederick, did you find another person where you found me?” asked Michael with sudden anxiety.

“Aye, he’s just a few rooms away, still unconscious, poor kid.” replied Frederick with a little sympathy in his tone, “wished I could have done more.”

“I heard him talking with someone in the hallway. It sounded mellow and deep.” muttered Michael to the rest, “its voice sounded like a demon of some sort.” Everyone stared at him in either amazement on in utter shock.

“Did you see how he did it?” said Samuel, breaking the silence.

“No, unfortunately, I was discovered before I got close enough.” sighed Michael.

“Are you sure lad, he did not have any form of sign or mark on him that might suggest a little of his unknown companion?” said Frederick with great anxiety.

“No sir, I can’t remember much in that battle. It is as though his companion removed it from my head.” said Michael as he thought hard.

“Well, enough talking, the next match is about to start and I need to be present for the duel to commence.” said Frederick, trying to retain his posture while looking at his well-crafted, golden watch, “You should be getting some rest… Come ‘on Samuel, you should see the next battle, pretty exciting. The wizard of Kingoran against the warlock from the marshes of Zerihm. What do you say old chap, for old time’s sake, eh?”

Samuel briefly nodded and left the room, taking one last look at Michael, forcing a smile. Michael knew that they were not going off together just for the “exciting” match. But his thoughts did not pursue it for the time being.

All of a sudden, Michael’s head felt as though it was a balloon, pressurized, stretched to a point of incredible tension. He wailed in the pain that impaled his mind. Flashes of the “forgotten” duel with Satan gushed back into him. Triton and Thomas tried their very best to support him and preventing him from hurting himself. In the chaos, Thomas got struck squarely in the belly as he tried to keep Michael in his bed.

The pain mysteriously ceased as soon as it began, but for Michael, it was as though it had been years. He stared blankly into space, and then suddenly sprang up, accidentally striking the recovering Thomas. With an apology, Michael seized a pencil and began to draw. Triton helped Thomas up and they went over to see what Michael drew. It was a sign. No, it was more of a mark. It resembled the letter “S” with two curved lines on each side. Sort of like an emblazoned “S”.

“I remembered this… on his hand; it kind of had a mind of its own. I remembered that he screamed, of such pain, such misery, such agony…” mumbled Michael as he turned to the pair, “Do any of you want this symbol represents?”

Only Thomas reacted. He was in total shock and was now rummaging through the sack the brought along and took out an old but sturdy book. He flipped it open and fretfully flipped through the pages until certain page. He passed it to Michael and Triton looked from behind. On it was the exact same symbol, just that in that book, it was blood red. The two gazed on it and turned to Thomas for an explanation.

“That… That mark has not been seen in thousands of years” stammered Thomas.

“We know that already, it is in this book. We want to know what it means.” said Triton with amazing calmness.

“That mark… as my master taught me was the mark used by, as our people call it, the Zel-narks, or more commonly known as the mark of destruction. It is used by the Daemon lords from the “outside”. The other worlds.” spluttered Thomas hesitantly.

“So, this… thing who Satan communicates to is a daemon lord?” questioned Triton.

“It could be. But my knowledge of this symbol or runes is quite shallow. If you really want to know more about that mark, I know someone whom can help you. He lives not very far from the arena. But the journey will be treacherous.” Replied Thomas as he tried to calm himself.

“Well, if anything that hurts you comes along, I’ll just crush it like a bug.” chuckled Triton as he turned towards Michael, “You also have him to help you, right Michael?”

Michael nodded and replied, “Of course we would like to meet him. Just lead the way and if anything hostile comes, rest assured that I will silence it. For I am a-”

Michael’s eyes began to be engulfed in fear and horror. He rummaged through his arms, hoping that whatever he was thinking was proved wrong.

“What's wrong?” asked Triton.

“This” replied Michael with much despair as the held out his left arm. There, just lay a naked arm where the angel gauntlet had once been.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Chapter 3

Michael slowly headed back to his room through a hallway he had rarely ventured. He tried to locate a corridor which will bring him to a place which he hoped was familiar to him.

“Hmm… let’s see… that one or that one.” mumbled Michael to himself as he glanced around the dimly lit hallway, “I knew I should have taken the left turn. Darn…”

He took a few steps toward the nearest bend, looking back as he went. In his ear, he could hear faint noises that he could not make out. He tried to move further into the bend as silently as he could. As he did, the sounds became words. One voice who spoke them sounded all too familiar. The other was one which was totally unknown but somehow froze his blood as it spoke.

“This kid is strong. He uses his head…” mellowed the low and demonic voice that echoed through the rooms.

“It doesn’t matter; I will crush him like all the others. He just got lucky in his previous fight.” replied a harsh voice which spoke with hatred.

“Be cautious young one. He may be the one that could stop you. His way of fighting, his aura, his crest, looks much like-” the mellow voice paused, making the hallway completely silent.

“I better start running” thought Michael as he turned. What greeted him were eyes full of anger, which glared fiercely at him.

“What are you doing here Blondie?” sneered the dark figure which now backed Michael to a corner.

“Eh… I was just finding my way back to my room. So if you don’t mind.” Replied Michael softly.

“Kill him” boomed the demonic voice which seem to come from nowhere.

Satan unsheathed his blade which portrayed those of a bat. The blade started to shine blood-red as he prepared to thrust the blade into Michael’s flesh. Michael reacted quickly by placing his crest into his gauntlet saying the exact same words as before “Divine gauntlet… Angel seal!” An intense light burst from his gauntlet, blasting Satan away in a massive force.

“You’re going to get it” snarled Satan as he got up. His once free hand now also with a crest, one with the outline of a devil’s head embedded on it. “Demonic gauntlet… Devil seal!” screamed Satan as he thrust it into his gauntlet on his right hand. A similar flash of light engulfed him but this time; it burned like the flames of hell. What came out was Satan with his demonic armor. Half-matured horns grew form his helmet, claws also protruded from his gauntlets and flames ran through his scaly plate.

“Ok…” commented Michael as he unsheathed his crimson sword. Satan advanced, advanced quickly. Michael had to move back to keep up with the blows from his demonic rival, whom again forcing him to a corner. Michael leapt to the wall and jumped from pillar to pillar, only to realize that his adversary crumbled the path behind him. Satan summoned up three surges of energy from his now blood-red sword and casted them towards he angel knight. Michael deflected the first one but had to perform an aerial barrel roll to dodge the other two. As he landed, the wall behind him shattered from the force of the surges.

Satan immediately responded by charging towards Michael, his blade glowing more and more intense. Michael quickly exposed his blade to the rays of sunlight which shone through the cracks in the ceiling made by the shattered wall. His blade also started to glow with increasing intensity as his advanced to face his opponent.

The blades met, sending a shockwave across the hallway. They exchanged blows, creating quite an amazing display of lights from their glowing blades. The shockwaves produced by the two blasted away furniture, lights and even the remaining walls. Michael tried to take flight to gain the upper hand but was only returned by a barrage of flames from the hands of Satan. Michael got up and did a series of similar motions from his previous fight, his blade glowing as bright as the sun. Satan also did a series of actions, with his blade glowing like a hundred rubies.

Both of them leaped screaming, “Celestius, Illuminate, Holy Might!” and “Celestius, Inferno, Burning Slash!”

The surges of energy exploded as they collided into one another, sending a massive force which devastated the hallway, leaving only the two exhausted combatants standing on each end.

“Enough of this…” rumbled the demonic voice again from nowhere.

Satan’s gauntlet suddenly rose up by its own. A mark which Michael had never seen before drew on it from Satan’s blood. Satan screamed, in total agony, pain and suffering. The mark instantly glowed rapidly and flames shot out of it. Michael tried to evade the approaching flames, but was cornered and engulfed in it.

It burned him. Burned like the flames of hell. He screamed as the flames scorched not only his skin, but his very mind and soul. As he fell into oblivion, a deep and demonic laugh surrounded his mind…