Fan Fiction ❯ Stolen Prayer ❯ The New Player ( Prologue )

Disclaimer: I don't own Legend Of Dragoon. And I refuse to repeat myself for the next 99 chapters. So I won't.

Author's Note: Yes I know these are boring to read, but I suggest that you do because I personally think that it's important.

Yes, yes, you don't see many kinds of these stories nowadays…or ever…which is sad because I like the W/L paring. Yes, you read me correctly. This is a Wink/Lloyd story. See? Aren't you glad you read this? Now if you don't like this pairing, you can click the back button. I wasn't even going to post this story until I finished it for fear of its popularity. But…I'm giving it a shot. I already have this story written out, so you don't have to worry about writer's block or anything like that that could be delaying the time it takes for me to post a chapter.

The time that it takes for me to post a chapter, however, depends solely on you readers and how much you let me know what you think of it…hopefully not in a negative way. But now that that is out of the way, onto the next topic.

Characters die in the story. Get over it. I didn't just kill off characters that I hate; I killed off characters that I needed to and had a PURPOSE for dying and so, yes, I killed off some of my own favorite characters too, but I resurrected some as well. If you don't like resurrection stories, now you know about it and you can leave. If you don't like stories that have character deaths, you now know about it and can leave. If you're curious as to who I killed off and it's a big deal to you, e-mail me and I'll tell you who I have killed in the story. Okay, 'killed' sounds like a very hostile word now so I'm going to stop using it.

I apologize if I sound rude and I want you all to know now that I am not referring to everyone, but I HAVE received reviews that have complained about pairings I have placed together or people I have killed off, or this that or the other.

But really! I'm a nice person! I promise! Cha!

Oh, by the way, I was using my AP English vocabulary book with this story, so there's a lot of big words. I'm pretty sure most are used in context, but if they aren't, please let me know. This story started out as an English project, so I'm sorry that there's a large usage of vocabulary. Curse AP English!

Anyway, on with the story.

Stolen Prayer

Prologue- - The New Player

'I walk the streets alone
On feeble bones I ride
My sins are etched in stone
I got no place to hide

Well, I was unshakable
In what I did believe
I feel so breakable
But have I been deceived?

You showed me your paradise
And your carnival of souls
But my heart keeps telling me
That ain't the place to go

Well, I'm not invincible
So I want you to leave
Well, I'm so convincible
But have I been deceived?

I take your words and try them on
(Yeah, it's a perfect fit, boy)
You tell me one size fits us all
(Yeah, like an old straightjacket)
Well, tell me why I'm so afraid
All my words are spoken
All my words are spoken
All my words are spoken
In a stolen prayer'

--Alice Cooper (Stolen Prayer)

"Turn that ugly mug around so I can see you!" The voice was crisp, icy, and vituperative. It flowed through those vicious lips like an echo in a deserted cave. It was demanding, intimidating, but not for him.

The wind howled like a dragon would when its appetite fell below satisfaction. The bitter cold brushing against him was urging for a battle. It yearned for bloodshed. No one could see the crimson pool after the storm had taken its fill. There was no moon to detect them any longer.

The man's back was turned to the hostile life form and his scornful words. He refused to stagger against the ground, disturbing what little soil was left there anyhow. He chose to be deaf to the words, ignoring the bestial man altogether.

"You're not deaf," The words caught his ears almost faintly as the wind simultaneously picked up just at that particular moment. "Stop pretending you are."

Was that a threat? The man didn't care. His priorities were not set on him. However, it was apparent that this man would not let him be. He sluggishly turned around in a semi-circle and stared the man down. "What do you want, old man?" The man spoke dully. He observed his enemy from head to toe.

No doubt that his adversary was a bandit. His unkempt attire and rusty daggers in his bony hands were enough for this man to tell. The bandit's eyebrows arched as he licked his chapped lips. He had the effrontery to spit back a nasty comment.

"Can't be as old as those ears of yours. I was debating about whether or not sign-language was appropriate enough for this confrontation."

"Touché," The man chuckled. "While I am enjoying the delightful badinage, I must end our chat here. I am a very busy man and have limited time to spend cavorting around with a 'sumptuous' man such as yourself."

"Are you implying that my hospitality isn't good enough for you?" The bandit asked.

"Hospitality is being made into somewhat of a travesty at this point." The man kept a close surveillance over the bandit, waiting patiently for him to make a furtive move towards him. "Why were you following me?"

"Ah, being blunt are you? I was hoping you'd keep the inane questions until the end."

"It's not a stupid question," The man remarked. "But if you think it is, then that can only lead me to one explanation."

"Which is?" The bandit grinned, exposing his toothless smile.

"You're obviously an aggressive fellow." The man drew a long sword from the sheath on his side.

"And your mind must be abundant with an overweening confidence that leads you to believe that you can pull a sword from your scabbard every time a man tries to make conversation with you."

"You're obviously after a bargain." The man told him, but did not release his grip on the hilt of his sword. Instead, he only held it tighter and thrust it outwards threateningly. "Sorry but none of my belongings are for sale."

"I didn't intend to pay for anything I stole from you." The bandit mirrored the man's movements as he held up a twin set of daggers. "What's your name, buddy?"

"You expect me to give my name to vermin like you?" The man smiled deviously. "Your would suffer from ignominy of expulsion if your men found you conversing with your prey."

"You are only a feckless youth," The bandit laughed. "It is no juggernaut that I have a quarrel with."

"So you just have to settle for me?" The man lurched forward slowly, as though he were going to pounce. "All right then. You may have my name. But then I am going to have to kill you."

"I advise you to recant your spurious words, traveler. But let's have your name just for the recording."

"Nicholai Delgado." The man told the bandit. "But it will only be your ephemeral existence that I take."

"So we shall see, Nicholai," The bandit said. "But I have already portended the outcome of this battle. And Lady Luck is not with you tonight."

"And so we will witness the Dance of the Macabre." Nicholai responded before ending the conversation.

With quick agility, the bandit hurled himself towards Nicholai, who effortlessly dodged.

"Tyro," Nicholai muttered as he watched the wisps of straggly hair soar by on the bandit's bald head.

The trees fluttered overhead as broken leaves rained upon the sylvan pathway, preparing for the burial.

'It will not be mine,' Nicholai thought . He was just as pertinacious as his opponent.

The bandit was quick to respond to his mistake as he pivoted on his back leg and was again in Nicholai's face. Nicholai had not miscalculated the acuity of the bandit's reflexes. He had been premeditating the retaliation of his adversary ever since he had evaded the first blow.

"You are not so stupid," The bandit remarked as Nicholai ducked the blur of the dagger. "I am impressed by your skills."

"Wish I could say the same for you," Nicholai said, his body bobbing up and down like a buoy as the bandit continued without intermittence to heave the dagger in Nicholai's direction. "I haven't even broken a sweat."

Nicholai danced around the bandit, and held the sword to his face as the bandit brought a long curved dagger down upon the steel. Sparks flew from the blade, heating Nicholai's face.

"I can fix that." The bandit said haughtily as he swung his other dagger at Nicholai's midsection. "You are nothing more than a mere neophyte."

Nicholai bit his lower lip to keep from snickering. It was almost a shame to have to slit the poor man's throat. "You are such a comedian." Nicholai commented as he swung his sword up in a circular motion, pulling the curved dagger from the bandit's hand. It rotated several times in the air and then fell to the ground with a resounding clank.

The bandit watched it for a brief second before gripping his second dagger with both hands. "It's only a paltry sum of experience you are displaying to me," The bandit told Nicholai, his voice wavering. "I laugh at your misfortune."

Nicholai was not chary about approaching the bandit now--not that he ever was. However the battle could now be ended swiftly and readily.

"I have already calumniated your name as a bandit," Nicholai shrugged. "Nothing more than that."

"Then shall we continue, oh dilettante one?" The bandit stepped back and leapt high into the air, bringing the dagger with him. Nicholai waited until the bandit was within range before slicing the air horizontally, taking the bandit's right arm with it.

The bandit crashed to the ground, clutching his bleeding arm with his unharmed left hand. He rolled over onto his stomach, smothering his arm with his body weight.

"Did you think that you were the only one allowed to use a sword in this battle?" Nicholai asked and then diverted his attention to the severed arm lying at his feet, still clutching the jewel embossed dagger. "Pitiful," Nicholai shook his head.

"W-Why you…" The bandit stopped mid-sentence as a fit of forceful coughs were choked up through his body.

Nicholai looked up into the starry night, the westward wind beating upon his back.

"I have somewhere to be," Nicholai told the bandit. "We'll have to continue our chat later."

"I…I will not let you disgrace me like this and then…then just walk away…" The bandit struggled to get to his feet, watching the retreating man before him.

"Tell it to someone who cares," Nicholai said nonchalantly, continuing down the snaking road. "I am setting forth my peregrination on the Continents of Endiness…and you are not on the route."

The bandit collapsed to one knee. "And just…what are you looking for?"

Nicholai did not bother to face the dying bandit. "The ultimate power." And he left it at that.

The prairie was as silent as a grave and the wind died, having its fill of blood. The bandit fell to the deceased that night, his soul devoured by the undead of Mayfil and his corpse lay saturating in his own pool of crimson. It was true what the man responsible for his death had said then. He would not live to tell the tale of the man named Nicholai Delgado.

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Well, that's the prologue for you. I hope you're enjoying it so far and if you're not, please make sure to let me know what I could do better (In a non-negative way, please. I would appreciate CONSTRUCTIVE criticism) and I'll see you all on the next update. Ciao.

Kat