ToTNC: Arrival (Pilot Chapter)
Finally, it had reached the top of the hill where a vast, dead forest awaited. Inside a dark eerie gasp wound between the dark, contorted trunks of half dead, leafless trees. By now darkness stretched like an ominous blanket over the land, limiting sight of the forest to only ones on hands. The figure paused, drew its ‘clothes’ tighter then groggily stepped into the dark abyss, wobbling slightly as the oddly cold air brushed at its unprotected ankles.
Inside was as morbid as it smelled. Decay, death, and loneliness seeped from the damp, shin height grunge that layered the floor. He crooked figure seemingly merging with the trees themselves. Slowly, the nocturnal glory of the moon pierced the dark clouds that hung over the forest like a vulture over a dying animal. A single ray graciously hit the forest floor, illuminating a slight path. The moonlight’s silvery blue gave a fleeting mirage of life, but was soon faded as the cloud returned. The figure quickly followed the temporary path that was set, gingerly plowing through the rotting fauna with deliberately heavy steps. By the time the moonlight returned it came in a wave of light, casting another illusion of a sea of silver washing over the forest. He figure quickly followed until the forest’s morbid tyranny ended leaving a small path that lead out to a cliff. The moonlight came to a rest at the edge of the cliff then dove down below to brighten a whole field of tall swaying grass. The mere scene of the dancing grass in the moonlight eased a feeling of utter astonishment, each blade moving in a different motion, it gave the ground life.
After looking intently at the beautiful sight the figure began its wretched way down the side of the huge mountain. The rocks on the face of the cliff were like the scales of a snake, having a smooth surface and interlocked, it was too canny to be natural. Negotiation proved futile and the figure missed a footing completely, tumbling into the darkness below…
He finally caught sight of bristle fur that shone in the light like rattling needles in the wind. A prominent hunch, pointed ears, and a long curled up snout pronounced his killer as an alpha wolf. The rest of its pack anxiously darted to and fro behind, eager for some of the action. The alpha sized up its prey, sniffed the air at the fresh blood and seemed to smile as it dug its paws into the ground- readying for a lunge. The man breathed slowly, making sure to make short exhalations, he gripped the handle of the blade with all his might, ignoring the pain in his foot.
As if sensing the tension, the wolf made a huge leap, covering the entire 5 or so feet that separated them. Its huge dark body seemed to cast an everlasting shadow on the ground as it came crashing down on the man, snarling viciously all the way. The other wolves seemed to roar in approval, but immediately began dancing around again- still eager for some action. A short yelp rang out, and once again the night went astoundingly silent. The sound of bone cracking and sheering then filled the air as the stranger removed his sword from the rib cage of the fallen beast. The sound of blood heavily slapping the grass was suddenly loud as it echoed from the cliff behind him. Then, using the strength left he heaved the heavy thing off him, dropping the carcass to his right with a heavy thud.
The wolves shuffled in fear, snapping at the air in somewhat a state of disbelief. The man winced as he brought his left hand up to his shoulder to remove three teeth the dying beast left in his body, as he removed them more dark blood poured down his arm, a little sprayed on his cheek. He then held his blade firmly again, waiting on the rest. They slowly advanced, being more careful than the arrogant leader. Two branched to the left, and two branched to the right while a two advanced from the front. Keeping mental tabs of the six attackers he waved his sword in the breeze to look at them individually. Breathing slowly he whispered under his breath...
The blade crackled to life with sound of chirping birds and dancing tendrils of lightning, its light showing the determination on his face and the blood on his hands. The wolves jumped back in astonishment, and the two on the left retreated a few paces. The two in the middle seemed too defiant, however, and hungry. One leaped at the man who effortlessly cleaved its body in two, cauterizing the wound immediately through sheer lightning heat and energy. The wolf’s two halves slapped onto the cliff with a sickening sound of organs and bones. This was the breaking point, the remaining five scattered in fear, leaping over the tall grass and scurrying back the way they came. The man sighed openly, happy to be alive. The lightning coat sparked one last time before dispersing from the blade, casting the shadow of the night on his body once more. Yet again, he was in darkness…
He woke up quickly, the events of the night before rushed into his mind with vivid clarity. He jerked his hand to grip his blade, the blood acting like a slight adhesive as it had dried up from the night before. As he opened his eyes he stared into the grey pupils of death, and it looked like regret. As he jerked his head upwards he could see he fell asleep on the alpha’s carcass, its stiff fur felt strangely comfortable. He shuddered at his own though and quickly began brushing the dead hair off his chest. The voice called out again, and in the sunlight he could see two arms flailing in the air, waving from left to right as if signaling something. He tried to lift his hands in reply but his own weakness astonished him. It felt as if something had leeched him in his sleep. Scared that the figure in the distance would go away he began scraping his blade on the shale like rocks behind him, to his dismay it was barely audible. He closed his eyes in disdain, it seemed as if he was doomed to die in such an alien land in such a sad state. As he hung his head in defeat he heard footsteps above him. He slowly flicked his head up to look. Directly above him, a slender fellow with dark hair which slowly faded into gold stared down at him. He stood on the cliff wall, his feet covered in chakra and his red eyes staring into the stranger’s eyes.
He opened his mouth to speak but it was too dry, the feeling felt strange, the feeling of trying to talk. He hadn’t done that in months. The cloak on his head hid his face from the sunlight and the piercing eyes of the accuser. He then allowed his sword to fall in his lap as he slowly removed the garment. He revealed, dirty matted black hair, short and spiky. His eyes shone an eerie crimson haze on his cheek bones, almost like jewels. The man staggered back a bit at the sight.
Unable to produce a sound the man shook his head lazily. His eyes reflecting sunlight with such beauty it was hard not to look into them.
The man shook his head lazily again, his eyes seemed to swell with tears. Taken back by this sudden display of emotion he folded his arms, trying to ignore it. The stranger hung his head again, looking at his gruesome injury as a few flies began buzzing around the exposed bone.
As he lifted the man with a strong grip he protested, grunting while pointing his blood crusted chin at the ground- his sword and sheath. Silently protesting, the man used his foot to flick the blade up for the stranger to catch it. He then flicked the sheath up to catch in his free hand.
The man mustered all his energy for a single syllable and exhaled loudly while saying one word.
Tales of The Night Child
Prologue
Prologue
_______
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, as if a fire had blazed past from in the day. No crickets chirped nor frogs croaked, it was oddly serene. In the fading sunset a shadow lazily challenges a hill, seemingly allowing the dry wind to push him upwards. The figure was limp, its legs looked like they had trotted every mountain range in the land. Its garments were torn and ragged, and the colors washed out to a different shade of gray per piece. Never the less, the figure continued despite its obvious hindrance. Finally, it had reached the top of the hill where a vast, dead forest awaited. Inside a dark eerie gasp wound between the dark, contorted trunks of half dead, leafless trees. By now darkness stretched like an ominous blanket over the land, limiting sight of the forest to only ones on hands. The figure paused, drew its ‘clothes’ tighter then groggily stepped into the dark abyss, wobbling slightly as the oddly cold air brushed at its unprotected ankles.
Inside was as morbid as it smelled. Decay, death, and loneliness seeped from the damp, shin height grunge that layered the floor. He crooked figure seemingly merging with the trees themselves. Slowly, the nocturnal glory of the moon pierced the dark clouds that hung over the forest like a vulture over a dying animal. A single ray graciously hit the forest floor, illuminating a slight path. The moonlight’s silvery blue gave a fleeting mirage of life, but was soon faded as the cloud returned. The figure quickly followed the temporary path that was set, gingerly plowing through the rotting fauna with deliberately heavy steps. By the time the moonlight returned it came in a wave of light, casting another illusion of a sea of silver washing over the forest. He figure quickly followed until the forest’s morbid tyranny ended leaving a small path that lead out to a cliff. The moonlight came to a rest at the edge of the cliff then dove down below to brighten a whole field of tall swaying grass. The mere scene of the dancing grass in the moonlight eased a feeling of utter astonishment, each blade moving in a different motion, it gave the ground life.
After looking intently at the beautiful sight the figure began its wretched way down the side of the huge mountain. The rocks on the face of the cliff were like the scales of a snake, having a smooth surface and interlocked, it was too canny to be natural. Negotiation proved futile and the figure missed a footing completely, tumbling into the darkness below…
……….
A loud howl, and the pang of pain shook his brain to life as his eyes hurriedly searched his surroundings for an answer. A second howl seemed to resonate in his very bone, the one that jutted from his foot at an awkward angle, his blood looked black in the now daunting light. It glistened with an eerie feel of beauty, with its high viscosity it slowly oozed down the bone and soiled the beautiful grass. He struggled to place his limp back against the very rocks that betrayed him. After a few tense seconds of gritted teeth and labored panting he finally made do, squinting his eyes in the distance at the adjacent cliff. He then realized he was in a valley, a deep, dark valley with seemingly no way out. Another howl rang out, it sounded closer this time. His heart rate began to pick up pace, his hands now hastily searching through a ruined sack for some sort of defense. It was there, thankfully. He gripped its sleek finish and with a heavy sigh pulled a magnificent blade from the sheath, it shining a darting reflection on the smooth cliff face. A snarl rang from the darkness, but the tall undulating grass now became the enemy as it hid the horrors that sought to end him. After placing the sack over his destroyed leg he held his blade before his body vertically, his face still hidden by the dusty old cloak over his head. A growl curled from the lips of a foul beast as it slowly advanced on its prey. By now he had already deduced its location based on the sound.He finally caught sight of bristle fur that shone in the light like rattling needles in the wind. A prominent hunch, pointed ears, and a long curled up snout pronounced his killer as an alpha wolf. The rest of its pack anxiously darted to and fro behind, eager for some of the action. The alpha sized up its prey, sniffed the air at the fresh blood and seemed to smile as it dug its paws into the ground- readying for a lunge. The man breathed slowly, making sure to make short exhalations, he gripped the handle of the blade with all his might, ignoring the pain in his foot.
As if sensing the tension, the wolf made a huge leap, covering the entire 5 or so feet that separated them. Its huge dark body seemed to cast an everlasting shadow on the ground as it came crashing down on the man, snarling viciously all the way. The other wolves seemed to roar in approval, but immediately began dancing around again- still eager for some action. A short yelp rang out, and once again the night went astoundingly silent. The sound of bone cracking and sheering then filled the air as the stranger removed his sword from the rib cage of the fallen beast. The sound of blood heavily slapping the grass was suddenly loud as it echoed from the cliff behind him. Then, using the strength left he heaved the heavy thing off him, dropping the carcass to his right with a heavy thud.
The wolves shuffled in fear, snapping at the air in somewhat a state of disbelief. The man winced as he brought his left hand up to his shoulder to remove three teeth the dying beast left in his body, as he removed them more dark blood poured down his arm, a little sprayed on his cheek. He then held his blade firmly again, waiting on the rest. They slowly advanced, being more careful than the arrogant leader. Two branched to the left, and two branched to the right while a two advanced from the front. Keeping mental tabs of the six attackers he waved his sword in the breeze to look at them individually. Breathing slowly he whispered under his breath...
“Chidorigatana!”
The blade crackled to life with sound of chirping birds and dancing tendrils of lightning, its light showing the determination on his face and the blood on his hands. The wolves jumped back in astonishment, and the two on the left retreated a few paces. The two in the middle seemed too defiant, however, and hungry. One leaped at the man who effortlessly cleaved its body in two, cauterizing the wound immediately through sheer lightning heat and energy. The wolf’s two halves slapped onto the cliff with a sickening sound of organs and bones. This was the breaking point, the remaining five scattered in fear, leaping over the tall grass and scurrying back the way they came. The man sighed openly, happy to be alive. The lightning coat sparked one last time before dispersing from the blade, casting the shadow of the night on his body once more. Yet again, he was in darkness…
……….
“Oi!” Came a strange voice, it came from way off in the distance, and echoed its way to his ears.
He woke up quickly, the events of the night before rushed into his mind with vivid clarity. He jerked his hand to grip his blade, the blood acting like a slight adhesive as it had dried up from the night before. As he opened his eyes he stared into the grey pupils of death, and it looked like regret. As he jerked his head upwards he could see he fell asleep on the alpha’s carcass, its stiff fur felt strangely comfortable. He shuddered at his own though and quickly began brushing the dead hair off his chest. The voice called out again, and in the sunlight he could see two arms flailing in the air, waving from left to right as if signaling something. He tried to lift his hands in reply but his own weakness astonished him. It felt as if something had leeched him in his sleep. Scared that the figure in the distance would go away he began scraping his blade on the shale like rocks behind him, to his dismay it was barely audible. He closed his eyes in disdain, it seemed as if he was doomed to die in such an alien land in such a sad state. As he hung his head in defeat he heard footsteps above him. He slowly flicked his head up to look. Directly above him, a slender fellow with dark hair which slowly faded into gold stared down at him. He stood on the cliff wall, his feet covered in chakra and his red eyes staring into the stranger’s eyes.
“Name yourself, wretched spy!” He spat, hand reaching into his pocket.
He opened his mouth to speak but it was too dry, the feeling felt strange, the feeling of trying to talk. He hadn’t done that in months. The cloak on his head hid his face from the sunlight and the piercing eyes of the accuser. He then allowed his sword to fall in his lap as he slowly removed the garment. He revealed, dirty matted black hair, short and spiky. His eyes shone an eerie crimson haze on his cheek bones, almost like jewels. The man staggered back a bit at the sight.
“Whoa there! Those eyes, you wouldn’t happen to be an Uchiha by any chance would you?” He accused, the scorn evident in his voice.
Unable to produce a sound the man shook his head lazily. His eyes reflecting sunlight with such beauty it was hard not to look into them.
“Good, so you might not be a Konoha spy after all… But you could be a spy none the less.” He said, half talking and half pondering to himself. He then looked back at the stranger, “I see you look badly damaged there. Should I leave you to rot or for the wolves to have at you tonight?”
The man shook his head lazily again, his eyes seemed to swell with tears. Taken back by this sudden display of emotion he folded his arms, trying to ignore it. The stranger hung his head again, looking at his gruesome injury as a few flies began buzzing around the exposed bone.
“Come…” The man said as he hopped from the wall beside the stranger, placing his arm over his own shoulder. “You’re going to die here if I leave you.”
As he lifted the man with a strong grip he protested, grunting while pointing his blood crusted chin at the ground- his sword and sheath. Silently protesting, the man used his foot to flick the blade up for the stranger to catch it. He then flicked the sheath up to catch in his free hand.
“Ok we have to leave everything else…” he said slowly, unsure if the man could still hear him. His face was pale and sucked in, no doubt from the loss of blood.
“My name is Albel by the way, Albel the Wicked..” He smiled at his own name.
The man mustered all his energy for a single syllable and exhaled loudly while saying one word.
“Yosamu..”
Credits
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- Albel
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- Me =]
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