Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Tale of the Silver Dragoon ❯ Prologue

Authors NotesNormally, I don’t put in notes from the author with anything I do. But in this case I thought it prudent. The story to follow this is an ongoing project. That is first and foremost. I started writing this my last year of college and during my off time at Army boot camp. However, I have not gotten around to attmepting to continue. Second of all: a word on the world that this story takes place in. Originally, it was meant to be the world or prigin for a character I had created for a Online RP game in which I was playing. It took place at a School where peoples from many worlds came together. For those who want to know anything about the world that this come from, I would suggest you go here.http://www.geocities.com/dark_angel_998/I realize it is not the prettiest website, nor the flashiest, but I am not a web genius.But the short fo it is this: it is a world where Fairytales do exsist. The world had not advanced to gunpowder and modern devices. It is middle ages high fantasy. And for those who want to know..I created this world long before the "Brothers Grimm" movie came outThat is all I need to really say for right now. Please, enjoy the story. And I hope to continue it as soon as possible.OtakuAngelD(OAD)


Prologue: "Mikal!!" The roar echoed across the battle field. "Mikal!" Again it rand, down through hundreds of the bleeding, wounded and dead. "Give back the girl!" The voice came from a silver form on one side of the field. A large man, much larger than any of his counterparts, clad in the purest silver armor. Amour now awash with red and brown. Awash with blood and soil. "Never!!" A second, deeper voice echoed back across. A voice as dark and angry as the suit of ebony robes and mail. "Never! I need this. You need this. This is for you, Hanz. Remember it, Hanz. Remember the dream?" Silence for a moment. Something that should be wholly impossible on such a field of battle. Even amongst the ranks of foes, not a sound. Not a movement. When Dragoon spoke, all became silent. It stretched a long, painful moment before the silver clad knight closed his mercury eyes is sorry and quiet guilt and disgust. Once again he spoke, voice a deep growling. Accent heavy, making him seem far angrier. "This wasn't it, Mikal. This wasn’t what I wanted. I never asked for this. The dreams...the dreams....are just that. Now, give me the girl!" The black clad priest shook his head slowly and his robes shifted aside. Hidden until this point, a delicate body lay on the ground. She seemed asleep. Teenaged face still streaked with tears. A wreathe of pale black flowers set in golden blonde hair. "Is this what you want? Is this really what you want?! Look at her, Hanz. She's not like us. She's human! She'll destroy you." From the other side of the bloodstained field, all the sound came back. From the Silver clad man, all there was was a deep snarl. A roar that proved how human Hanz was not. AN ancient anger flashed though his eyes. "I don't care. She's exactly what I want. She's of no use to you. Your dream is a nightmare. She is my dream." The dark sorcerer-priest slowly smiled. A wane smile, showing more teeth than actual happiness. A sick smile of an unbalanced mind. "Hanz, there's still time. Forget the girl. Come with me. We were a team. An unbeatable team. There is still a chance,. my friend. The Gold is still far away. it's our chance. No more being told what to do. No more Gorlitz. No more Celestial. Don't you want revenge, Hanz...For the Orihalcon. Think about it, Hanz. Too long have humans like hon held our leashes. It's time to use one to break out chains. Help me break them, Silvertalon. Break your chains...Silver." Shimmering silver hair sagged over tightly closed eyes. Proud head drooped and shook one last time. "Mikal...we were friends...comrades. You were poisoned in the mind by dark deceits. You are no longer Onyx. You are truly Black. You were my brother, and as your brother, it is my duty to stop you." Mikal, all those things...my freedom....I..." The large man wavered a moment before his eyes feel upon the girl. "I love her, Mikal." He whispered. "I love her." Mikal seemed to hear that soft whisper. One hand went down, crackling black as his lips moved in silent prayer, hovering over a very thick tome. Around him, the blood in the field started to boil, making the area into a crimson steam. On the ground, the girl opened her eyes. Wide with fear, and blank. Her lips seemed to move in a silent plea. A plea to the man in the silver armor across the field. A moment later, she crashed upon the ground again, blood sipping from around the flowered crown she wore. All around, the warriors of the Dark priest surged up. Once dead, now alive again, baited in the blinding red mist. Forward, they surged towards the tiny force headed by the one in silver. Soon, the red haze his everything. Yet the blanket did not hide the flash of silver light, more blinding than the sun, followed by a streak of midnight back as two ancient Dragons clashed in the middle of the rapidly dying undead. Only one more things was heard before everything was enveloped in a cacophony of swords and the roars of the Monsters ruling the battlefield. "I..I'm sorry, Mikal. We can't be friends anymore...Hold on Nivan. I'm coming for you."