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Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1177165
Enter a wold of fantasy and magick. Follow Falin M'or on his journey to save his world.
Magick
R Jamison F
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The skyline is fills with vibrant colors and the sun sets in the sky. The colors seem to emanate from the sun as it forms a yellow half circle is the center of the skyline. It is time. I have already begun to prepare for my journey. Something about tonight does not feel right. I decide against my traditional grab. My black Puma half boots and back ankle socks fly onto my feet as my hands guide them. Black jeans always accent my Pumas; especially when I wear my old belt. I swear to you it looks as old as Merlin would be; if he were still here. I slide my, “emo” shirt over my head. It reads, in small white letters, “clearly misunderstood.”

I wave my right hand and the rest of my candles erupt into flames. I slip on my black, leather trench coat. I feel around my belt; making sure my knife is there. The brown leather sheaths my Dragon Lord. It was forged by the greatest blade master ever; Gil Hibben. Since my Dragon Lord; no other knife has been able to beat its raw power and beauty combined. I place The Book in my shoulder bag and sling it over my right shoulder. I may need it tonight. I place my gloves in my back left pocket of my jeans. I decide to take my new cut off gloves; the ones with the blood red streaks. I summon my staff. Ol’ Lily has been with me since my first duel. Just feeling her smoothed wood gives my orgasmic feelings. I pick up my cane. As I place El Diablo into his holding place on Ol’ Lily; the eyes of the skull seem to glow ruby red.

There are two main divisions of magick. The light and dark. Ol’ Lily represents the light side of magick; while El Diablo represents the dark. There has always been a debate over the use of dark magick. I believe that to be true to the nature of magick and be a true magick user; one must embrace both the light and dark magick. A common misconception is that dark magick is evil magick. That is not so. Even light magick can be used by evil users. It is not the magick that defines the user; but the user who defines that magick. It is time for me to go. Oh, my name is Falin. Falin M’or.

Chapter One
A Look Into Our World

Falin M'or is walking down a paved road. Suddenly, out of the darkness of the night, a girl appears in front of him; out of thin air.

"Falen M'or, what the hell you doing here?"

"Come now, Falin M'or. Surely you know what your sister is doing here. I saw you getting ready. As soon as I saw you walk out of the house with you silly staff and cane."

"What did I tell you? My staff and cane are to be respected. Ol' Lily and El Diablo are just as much a part of this family as you are."

"I know, I know. Any way, who are you going to fight tonight? I can't wait to see the show. I can see if now, Falin M'or, the new Champion."

"Falen M'or, you have no idea what I do. All you know is that I fight. This is not just a game or competition. This is so much more for me. As a. . . a. . ."

"As a Najatia War. . ."

"FALEN M'OR! You know that you are not to mention that. If our people were to find out that the Najatia. . . The Najatia are remembered. Our people remember the Najatia and their efforts."

"I sorry, Falin. Please, let me come to watch you. You know; I'm almost old enough to begin training."

"Falen, no! I cannot allow you to do such a thing. Go home. Maybe next time. Now, Go Home."

"With all due respect, brother, No! You will have to magic me away. I don't think you have the heart to do that."

After a pause Falin agrees to let him sister accompany him on his journey. Little did they know just how long the journey would be. Nor did they know just how serious a Najatia's responsibilities could be.
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Garrack Moledan was very happy. Garrack Moledan couldn't wait for the night's festivities to being. Tonight was a night that his people looked forward to every month. Each person's abilities would be tested tonight. Hopefully, he would get to face Falin M'or. It was about time someone put that miserable ass in his place. The M'or Clan was an embarrassment to everyone. They were one of the few clans that still preached that they attempt to make peace with the rest of the world. The witch hunts were so, so long ago. Anyone of his people who actually wanted to forgive the humans for what they did were insane. We are human just like them. We just have magical abilities. The M'or Clan stood for everything that was wrong with our people.

"Garrack; have you left yet. You don't want to be late."

That must be his mother or owho else was always telling him what to do. Why must they always bother him.

"I'm leaving now. Perhaps I will get lucky. I might be able to face that idiot, Falin M'or."

"Now, Garrack, just because the M'or Clan has no idea what they say or do doesn't mean that you should call names. The M'or Clan means well. Maybe; in time they will understand."

"Yes, Mother. I go now. I think I'll just teleport myself there. It's better than walking."
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It was almost time for the event to begin. The stadium was filling up. Everything was going well. Now if only William Jonance could pop in. It would really let The Delcianon relax. As Delcianon; it was his responsibility to govern and guide his people. If only Jonance could appear in a cloud of smoke. If only The Delcianon could be sure of whether he would have to reveal the existence of the Najatia. He heard a noise in the next room.

"Jonance; is that you?"

No answer.

"Jonance?"

The Delcianon walks into the following room. He sees a small white falcon bleeding on the carpet of the room. It appears to have flown through the window. The Delcianon waves hands over the falcon and chants something under his breath. The falcon is hovering in midair.

"Your aviation wounds are healed," The Delcianon said, "You are in a binding spell. Show me your true form or I shall kill you now."

A bright flash of light fills the room. The Delcianon raised his arms and hands to cover his eyes.

"Jonance; what happened?!"

Floating in midair was William Jonance. He was covered in blood.

"I thought that I healed your wounds," cried The Delcianon.

Jonance's voice is rapsy and wavering.

"You did. You healed my wounds. You healed the ones that happened when I flew through the window."

"Will; who did this to you?"

Jonace coughs up some blood.

"You know who. He's on the move. His people are beginning preparation for the final stage."

"Will, are you sure? I can't reveal the Najatia unless you are sure. Are You Sure It Was Him?"

"It was him. He showed me his face. He told me to tell you, before I die, this world shall be his. He wanted you to know that your kindness started something that could never be stopped. He has never forgotten your generosity."

The Delcianon waved his arms and floated Jonance onto the carpeted floor. As he held Jonance in his arms and spoke.

"Will; he won't take this world; like he did the others. Rest in piece, old friend. I will tell the people. It appears that the Najatai Warriors need to be revealed for the safety of this world."

Jonance raised his head.

"Lukas Ionas, Delcianon, He's coming here. He's coming. . ."

The Delciaion interrupted, "We will be ready for him. . . and his followers. Will, rest, I will take care of everything."

"Lukas, he coming here. . . tonight! He's on his way! There is no time to tell anyone anything! Just action; no words."

With that William Jonance began hacking and coughing up blood. He turned onto his side and died. Lukas Ionas gently closed his eyes.

"Your loss will not have been in vain."

Lukas gathered his composure, picked up his staff and The Book, and headed from downstairs to his podium. As he walked; he was trying to put into words what he was going to say.
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Falin and Falen M'or had just arrived at the stadium. Admittaly; it really wasn't a stadium. It was more of a underground lair. As usual; Falin had teleported most of the way to the stadium. Unlike clans, such as the Moledan Clan, who could afford to live near the stadium; many lived far away from the stadium. Falin liked to walk. he would always leave a bit early. That way he could walk half a mile, teleport, and than walk the last half mile to the stadium.

Garrack Moledan was enjoying his wine. It was an aged favorite, straight from the vinyards of France. It was called A La Paris. Not one wine was better. The rest his immediate clan has just teleported in. They had a great view from their box. Garrack, on the other hand, was wondering around in the back. He could not wait to fight duel tonight. As he rounds a corner; he stops dead in his tracks.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in."

It was just his luck to have run into Falin M'or.

"Garrack Moledan, walking among the unprivliged! And on a dirt floor no less; this is a Kodak moment! Either you lost your money and are now one of us; or you are here to mock the underclass of society."

"Come now, Falin M'or, you think I would stoop so low as to mock others because they do not have what I have. You dare think I would mingle with people below by choice?," scorned Garrack. "No; I am here because I am on my way to talk to The Delcianon. The Moledan Clan has business to attend to. Besides; it's not like a clan such as yours will ever amount to anything. Take it from me, Falin; your clan represents everything that is wrong with our society. Let's forgive the world for the witch hunts. Let's live among them; help them. Let's let the entire world of our existance. Let's give the world a chance to finish what let started! Our people would be better off if people like your clan died! But; all that could change. Why don't you let that whore sister of yours. . ."

Falin M'or stood up and drew his Dragon Lord and Ol' Lily.

"Why don't we finish this right here? Hmmm? Falen is not a whore. You on the other hand; are a bastard!"

Garrack scoffs, "Pleeease. You don't stand a chance. I'm twice the caster you are. You wouldn't last five minutes."

Falin takes an offensive stance, ready to lunge at Garrack and defend his Clan's honor. The Delcianon appears. He is running, carrying his staff and The Book.

"Delcianon," cried Garrack and Falin.

The Delcianon stops.

"Listen; gather everyone. I have an important message for our people. Be on guard; you may need to use some force."

"Delcianon," asked Falin, "I don't understand. Why do you look as if the world has come to an end."

The Delcianon was already walking away; headed for his personal viewing box; where he could also address the crowd.

"Gather the people. Just gather the people. GO!"
© Copyright 2006 R Jamison F (rjamisonf at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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