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Rated: · Novella · Fantasy · #1639106
The start of a short story or novel or maybe nothing? any insight welcome (needs editing)
    Lightning pierced the heavens as the four ascended the weathered tower's ancient steps. Paushing momentarily to study the horizon through a crack in the wall Sheydrin made note of the mass of animals below him. At last the weight of what was about to occur dawned on him as he fell in step behind the others. As the group reached the towers roof they spread out each going to one of the four corners. When they reached their places rune etchings in the roof began to glow in the moonlight, pulsating the power that had been poured into them throughout the previous years. The storm raged on in the distance, becoming less perceptable as a cloud of energy encompassed the men. Visible unrest infected the animals below, swarming like a plague until soon not a single one remained at ease. Unable to prevent it and unable to flee they watched, horrified as the foribidden act continued.
    Moods darkened on the tower as the toll of the spell began to effect the weakened bodies of the aged men, a ritual of this magnitude should require ten fit Xorthels and had it not been for the exceptional power of each of the participants it would have taken all their lives. As time progressed conditions outside the protective cloud worsened as others took notice of the deed and began attempting to interupt it in time. Furrowing his eyebrows Sheydrin began the more difficult task of preparing his body to become a vessel for the force that would soon enter him. It had taken years of planning, learning scriptures that were ancient when the world was young and taking the steps neccessary to ensure no attempts to thwart their plans were successful. Glancing to his left Sheydrin saw Thordil stumble momentarily before regaining his balance. Unfortunately even the strongest Xorthels were in a league vastly below that which Sheydrin found himself in, all the more reason for him to become the vessel increasing his strength an unfathomable extent and ensuring not only the survival but also the success of his race. Delving even deeper into his core Sheydrin brought forth yet more ilypser and sent it into the bodies of his companians granting them the much needed strength to continue. Strong as he was however Sheydrin knew that there were those out there who could challenge him even if he became the vessel and unfortunately for him one such individual had taken keen interest in his activities. Ilypser so concentrated and strong that it burnt the atmosphere as it travelled raced from the most northern peak in the world, gaining velocity as it sped towards its target. Blisfully unaware of the immediate threat to their safety the four exalted as the ritual neared completion, their hopes, their dreams mere seconds away from being obtainable. Just as the last bits of ilypsers left the participants and cascaded into the runes drawing the ritual to a close the foreign spell shattered the cloud and knocked everyone, most importantly Sheydrin from their locations.
    Although succesful in shattering the concentration of Sheydrin and his companions the foreign assaulter was unsuccesful in preventing the materialization of the sought after force. The force flew true straight to the point where only moments before Sheydrin had been standing in anticipation but finding nothing there in which to call home ricocheted off the roof and went careening into the night. All their dreams crumbled, their flames of hope extinquished the four quickly transformed and sped off into the night before any other unwanted visitors showed up to put an end to any future attempts at the ritual or even their lifes. From a distance the foreign assailant chuckled as he watched the men scatter into the storm and their abomination race without purpose into the darkness, a chuckle that turned into a grimace as he watched its journey. Looking back Sheydrin cursed at his ill luck, without becoming a vessel and having depleted so much ilypser he had no choice but to bide his time while he and his men recovered before they tried again. He released a cry of frustration causing the remaining three Xorthels to look over their shoulders at their troubled leader. In unison they joined in the wailing, a sound so sorrowful it caused the gathered animals to slink away in fear. In the distance a newborn cried.

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    Reathin woke up to the sounds of an owl winging after its prey. After repacking his supplies he set out on the path again, ready for another night of travel through the forest he'd called his home all his life. The trees were familiar, the animals predictable, it was a peaceful life relatively free of the dangers that plagued the rest of the world. At least thats how it used to be, before the war had broken out between the various races of the land, causing travel by day to be far too dangerous for anyone, even one who had spent his life amongst the trees learning how to survive. Travel at night provided much needed cover. The constant cries of the crickets and footfalls of the deer made it near impossible to be detected, however it also made it difficult to detect others.
    Shortly after setting out for the night Reathin found himself the subject of a far more dangerous predator then he was used to. Spectral claws pierced his soul as he was taken down from behind by a beast as black as the night itself. Images flickered one after another faster then they could be registered while Reathin succumbed to shock. As his body collapsed to the earth his soul refused to give in. Startled by the resistance the beast struck again, harder, more viciously, its only
goal to bring a quick resolution to the hunt. Reathins soul withstood the onslaught, parrying savage claws as if they were but pinpricks until finally unleashing an attack of its own. With inhuman speed its arm transformed into a whirl of ilypser and before the beast could react it was pierced and the stream, like liquid fire seeped through its veins. Writhing in pain the beast lost the concentration that had caused its grotesque form. In the shadow of Reathins soul the body of a woman curled up and awaited her end. With the imminent danger gone, Reathin's soul sank back down into his huddled form leaving two unconcious beings in the clearing.
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