Fan Fiction ❯ Not So Ordinary ❯ Chapter 1

Not So Ordinary

Welcome to a place where your best friend is a piercing, sharp, blade to protect you from death personified. A place where the fate of the world rests on the shoulders of a troubled blacksmith and his sword. But, this is no ordinary place, for as we take this trip with our so-called `ordinary' hero, he'll discover great powers beyond his wildest dreams, and find out he's not so `ordinary'.

"I'll swoop here later for my boy's sword," the customer added as he was leaving the shop. Boom! Crash! Clang!

Shortly after all the weapons had fallen from the shelf, the customer shouted, "I didn't do it!"

"Don't worry `bout it man, I got it," Antoine answered, "I ain't got nuttin' better to do."

Antoine was just your average blacksmith. A large dark-skinned man of good musculature, of great height and was thought to be good-looking after the grime and soot was removed from his features. Antoine was in his shop contemplating upon random thoughts that flitted through his head like a bee flying from flower to flower. He had made enough swords for the rest of the week because business was slowing down. As Antoine re-organized the weapon shelf, he found his favorite sword.

"Aw man, it's been a minute since I last scooped you," Antoine casually noted to his sword. He began practicing moves with the sword around the shop. When he fought with his sword, he flowed like a breeze blowing over rolling hills rather than stepping around. The moves were all intertwined, slurred together like a string of notes in a musical piece.

"It seems to me like you ain't lost a step."

Antoine awoke from his reverie to see he had a customer. The man who had walked in was of medium height with light brown skin and a somewhat humble, yet confident air about him.

"Hey man, can I help you with something?" he asked.

"No, but I think I can help you," the customer replied, "My name is Jevan. There is something you need that I might be able to get for you."

"I ain't be needin' anything you sellin' man, but if you wan-"

"Did I say I was selling anything? I said I could get you sumthin', not that I was sellin' anything," Jevan remarked.

"No need to be snappin', if you knew how many salesmen come by e'ry day you would react tha same way I did."

"Aiight, man let's drop that. Lemme get to my point. I ain't no fighter, but I help keep evil brothas from takin' over. I'm what you call a seeker. I seek out tha hero who can keep ol' dude on lock. I think that I found tha right dude for tha job."

"Uh-uh man, I jus' be a blacksmith, I ain't no hero. Besides, why would I risk my neck to stop some dude from doin' his thang," Antoine replied, "Anyways, what do I get outta this? What incentive do I have motivatin' a brotha?"

"The reward I'm gon' give you will take care a all yo' prolems"

"That's mo' like it. I'm in. Just what is it that I gotsta do, to get dis reward?" Antoine inquired.

"You gotsta go to Dycressia and beat down Dyvantré. But don't expect nobody to jus' roll over fo' ya, you gon' have so many dudes after yo' black booty you would think you was in jail," Jevan answered.

"Back this up a sec, I'm s'posed to be doin' what now? Who is this `Dyvantré' fool anyways?" Antoine remarked.

"Dyvantré is a dude who will cut cha befo' he even look at cha. He's also strong as hell and got dudes e'rywhere who go jus' as hard in tha paint as he does. If he comes up to rule, ain't gon' be no one who won't suffer. Enuf a dat, you need to kick rocks tomorrow. Plus I ain't got no mo' to tell ya. I be out. Deucez."

With that Jevan stepped out of the door. Antoine shrugs and begins to prepare for his journey. He has a strange feeling that he's being watched. He couldn't have known how right he was, because at that very instant Dyvantré was watching and waiting.

After Antoine had been traveling for a few days toward the border of newly formed Dycressia he stumbled upon an old man and his shack. From his appearance, Antoine guessed that he had already seen the best years of his life pass him. The old man had an unkept beard, clothing full of holes, and many dark lines about his eyes. The old man stepped out to greet Antoine with a welcome that didn't seem warm to Antoine's eyes.

"Hello Antoine, I am Othellus. I know that you have been sent on a mission by the seeker, Jevan, and I am here to stop you. He can be so blind sometimes. You are not capable of succeeding, for your heart has been blackened with voracity," Othellus remarked.

"Get up out my way `Gramps', I gots a treasure waitin' for me in Dycressia," Antoine responded.

"You are not the hero we seek, take this gold and return to your shop," Othellus said. Strewn on the ground lay hundreds of gold coins.

"Aw snap, thanks ol' G." As Antoine stooped to pick up the gold, a voice inside his mind told him not to. Antoine, you ain't need to pick up the gold, the reward ya need is in Dycressia. Fight yo' avarice, and press on towards yo' destination, his mind resounded.

Antoine stopped collecting the gold and confessed, "I don't need this. This ain't what I'm here fo' although it'd be raw to git that scrilla up in my pockets."

"Well, done Antoine. You have passed my test of worthiness, and may continue towards Dycressia. You may take 100 gold coins to do with as you please, but also take this key to help your journey." Othellus handed Antoine a solid gold key, shaped like a dragon on the hunt, that shone as if the essence of the sun itself dwelled its reaches. Then, the next day, Antoine continued his journey with gifts in hand.

Several days later Antoine reached the legendary Gate of Rhynescx. This gargantuan gate was famous for the mystical powers that strengthen its guardian and has repelled any and everyone that has tried to break through. There was a particular guardian of unparalleled skill guarding the gate currently who was renowned for his ruthlessness. He was the only thing keeping Antoine from Dycressia. Antoine approached as if he were a mighty king strolling up.

The guard boomed, "Who you be?"

"Who be I? Who is you?" Antoine retorted.

"I be Tyrel, the great guardian of dis `ere gate" he said.

"Well, I gotta get by so I can handle my business with Dyvantré."

"You ain't getting through."

"Fool, you besta move befo' I regulate ya sorry behind."

"Who you think you is, dissin' the great Tyrel?!? I be runnin' thangz `round `ere foo'. WORTHLESS SCUMMM!!!!!!!!! It's time fo' you ta get stole on!"

Then they rushed each other with the wild ferocity of an untamed flame burning with vigor and pride. The swordplay was so intense that lightning struck their swords whenever they collided. Antoine fought bravely but Tyrel was just bigger, stronger, and faster.

"Uunnnhhh!" Antoine grunted as he hit the ground.

"You was talking big earlier, where you at now?" Tyrel taunted. As he raised his sword to strike down Antoine with a final blow, he saw an impoverished family rush over to try and help Antoine rise to escape. "You goin' `gainst my pull `round `ere?!? For that you gon' git iced, bia's!" Tyrel exclaimed as he charged up to deliver punishment to the offenders. Because of the distraction, Antoine had recovered enough of his strength to move, but he was now faced with a predicament. He could run and try to escape Tyrel or he could try and save the people who helped him. His first inclination was to run but his conscience popped up again to lend its two cents in. Antoine, ya know what cha gotsta do. In your mind and heart you know what's right. This family didn't risk they butts for you to abandon them and surrender to `dis foo'. Go handle yo' bidness, his mind told him.

Antoine rose from the ground through his pain and deflected Tyrel's attack. Then with a roar of rage he unleashed a Fury attack. Since y'all are new here let me (Mr. Narration) fill you in. A Fury attack is a special attack that can only be done by an extremely small portion of the world where emotions (rage, pain, sorrow, etc.) are converted to a plasma-like energy substance, and charged and/or released through the hand. Now that You're up on things, let's get back to the story. The attack so devastating Tyrel was instantly slain.

"Oh thank you sir, for saving us," yelled the family as they turned to leave.

"Wait up!" Antoine called to them, "I owe you my life; the least I can do is give dis rite `ere to y'all." Antoine handed the 100 gold coins to the family.

They responded as they ran into the distance, "Oh you are a saint. You have given us a most wondrous gift, and filled our hearts with hope." Antoine was covered in a warmth that made him smile. He was cheesin' from ear to ear.

After journeying three days from the Gate of Rhynescx, Antoine reached the door to Dyvantré's castle. There was an odd shaped keyhole and no door handle. None of his efforts had any effect on the door. He then remembered the words of Othellus and used the key to disable the barrier behind the door. Then he was able to break it down. At this point he realized he was at a disadvantage from the beginning because they knew he was coming and were totally prepared for him. They hurled everything they had at him. Then he threw it all back. They unleashed wave upon wave of lackies, drones, and traps to stop his progress. It only served to aggravate him as a mosquito nags a person's ear on a summer day. They could not possibly overcome his skills and end his quest as he fought his way, filled with determination, through the castle. After fighting his way to the top, Antoine came face to face with Dyvantré for the first time although it felt very familiar. The strangest thing was that they looked like brothers.

"Hello Antoine, as you can guess, I'm Dyvantré."

"Yeah I kinda figured."

"I have seen your prowess on the battlefield, Antoine. You should join my side, share my endless bounty, we could rule the entire world. We would be like gods, no even greater than that. Anything you could ever wish for would be provided to you. Come and join me."

"Yeah, that would be cold to rule the world. But I can jus' tell that as soon as we rise to power you would cross me, and plot on me behind my back. Besides, I don't need or want any of that."

"Antoine, you is `bout three seconds away from bein' toe-tagged," Dyvantré remarked harshly, "Look at what you've done to my vernacular, you've angered me so."

"Yo Dyvantré, one mo' thang befo' we gets it poppin': Yo Momma."

"Hell naw, you didn't jus say sumthin' bout my momma! Thems fightin' words!"

"Well then let's get it on Big Dyzzle."

With those words, they engaged in an epic battle to determine the fate of the world. Their fury lit up their eyes like a full moon on a clear starry night. Flames erupted from the ground and licked at their feet like hungry demons harassing their next meal. Each clash of their swords, pound of their fists, and kick of their feet echoed throughout the area like a sonic boom resounding through an empty canyon. All that was around them was scorched to the ground forming a dank mess that was pulsing smoke and ooze. Though both had fought extravagantly, Dyvantré was handing Antoine his butt on a silver platter.

"GrrrrrrAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" Dyvantré roared.

"Uunnnnnnnhhh!!!" Antoine moaned as he hit the ground hard. He picks himself off the ground and says the one sentence that could either doom or save the world: "Let's end this."

Each man squares off for the final charge. Then they rushed each other, putting all of their energy into the one final attack. Antoine puts so much fury energy into his sword it changed form into a legendary weapon that has no name or description because you can't really see it. SLASH!

They both hold their pose to see which one received the most damage. Antoine drops to his knees and pants heavily while Dyvantré stands and laughs at him.

"You have lost Antoine! HAHAHAHA!