The Black Dance

[The Black Waltz Project]

The wind shuffled in a low rotating circle, snatching up small bits of fallen leaves and throwing them around and scattering them across the forest floor. Low shrubs rustled slightly as the wind passed between them, like a gentle finger running through hair and passing through. The tall mahogany trees stood as silent towers, unswaying in their resolve and showing no weakness to the gentle breeze.

The sunlight beamed down in small patches as water would fall through children’s fingers, lighting up the clearing just enough to not be a bother. The rustling of the lake nearby added to the serene feeling and it was a peaceful place to rest weary eyes….or to train.

Through the calm a bolt of fire crossed the open like an arrow, fast and true. But as it got closer to the silhouette in the distance it began to flicker and fade, until a ball of snow flat out ended the fiery destruction. A cone of ice flew back in retaliation, the sharper tip extended to be a decisive killing blow. Another figure dodged the attack by jumping behind a tree, a fluttering cape all that was seen. Without warning a small strip of fire erupted, swirling in the air with the breeze. A few leaves were caught in the vortex, fueling the flames to grow stronger before it was unleashed and thrown towards the last known area where the ice bolt came from.

But the wind began to chill as the flames again began to flicker and fade, the resolve of the fire turning to ash. The entire area began to grow foggy as he winds began to freeze the skin. A few birds took to flight, alarmed by the sudden temperature difference, as clouds covered the sun and darkened the entire surrounding forest area. The water began to creak and groan as ice began to stretch forth and grow haulting the lifeblood. The shrouded figure moved towards the other in a menacing way, the cloak almost growing along with the shadows. A dark straw pointy hat was the only color in the black and white world created by the assailant, and the other seemed to shrink in power as it curled into a ball.

“Do you have any last thoughts?” A voice pierced the silence, a sickening fog coming from the standing figure. It was a deep, anger filled voice that belonged to a man. “Give up pathetic creature; it is check mate for you…” He said bowing down and ripping the other hat off his opponent. A pair of golden eyes pierced at the man, long curly hair bouncing down and away. She began to shiver as he she sighed loudly and then she nodded. Immediately the surrounding area began to grow warm again, the ice melting away quickly and the clouds disappearing altogether.

“I don’t mind losing to you, Dark.” The woman said irritably getting up by the pro-offered hand of her foe. “It’s just the creepy things you say when you do.” She bent down picking up a medium length rod that curled into a ball at the tip, red gems now adorning what used to be nothing more than twisted wood.

“Not my fault Sharon, and is it really going to be any less creepy if those blasted Knights beat you?” Dark replied, looking at his cane. It was now a fine dark blue with light highlights swirling like a staircase up to the jagged top, no gems upon this cane adorned it, but the tip grew longer and more ice like as Dark traveled with it.

Dark and Sharon were both brother and sister and one of the last few true mages of the dark arts. And to say they had an interesting year would only grow to anger them. Once powerful in their own right, they had their world shattered when their father went insane. Scattered away from their home by the fickle winds of fate they landed in Scara Brae with their other brother Wilfred. It was upon their journey to find their Uncle Yatari that they met the one man who would forever change their life. Vladimir Sigma. A man who called himself a Knight of the Apocalypse had offered his service to escort them, but it seemed more out of desperation than rather self interest. The ensuing journey had eventually led to a confrontation, and it was only by the power of their brother Wilfred that they managed to best the dark knight. However, it was only temporary and it was a great cost. The madman Vladimir had crushed Wilfred’s throat beneath his boot making it impossible for Wilfred to talk anymore.

Though the siblings escaped they had only fell into another death trap for Vladimir had forsaken his knightly order and was then hounded down. In the process and man known as Bester attempted to gather Vladimir’s weaknesses from them using mind raping techniques and torture. Again by the power of Wilfred summoning a minion of death were they able to escape. Though with Bester’s death it only meant certain doom. Now the trio of Black Mages was hunted by the Apocalypse, and it seemed there was more going on than any of them could gather or conceive.

“I’m so hungry,” Sharon whined. “Do you think Wilfred will be back soon?” she asked to her brother Dark.

Sharon was the youngest of the three mages. It was only natural she be the most inexperienced of the three. However unlike her brothers she had a bubbly personality and an inquisitive mind more mischief. Being only 5’7 it was easy for people to mistake her for a child, but time and time again she had proved she was anything but.

“I dunno,” Dark said dryly looking towards the clearing. “Why don’t you start the fire?” Sharon nodded and concentrated her thoughts as she gathered a bundle of sticks. When they were all together and properly placed she put her hands gently upon them and whispered a spell. Flame caught to the sticks and began to burn them. “Thanks.” Dark said sitting next to his sister.

Dark was the middle aged of the trio. He was only 5’10, a bit short for a black mage his age, but he makes up for it with his courage. More than once had he taken control of the situation when Wilfred wasn’t around, even being bold enough to step up to Vladimir. Yet Dark also possessed an uncanny ability to grasp things quickly, and he knew when it was best to just let his brother Wil handle things and when to be quiet. He felt he should be the guardian of Sharon, but in reality he knew it was Wilfred who took care of them both.
“Dark,” Sharon said placing her hand upon Dark’s shoulder. “Relax. You know it’s going to be awhile for Wilfred to get here.” Dark shrugged his sister’s hand off. He was upset enough as it was, for while his training was growing leaps and bounds, Sharon’s had seemed to Stagnate.

“I’m sorry, but until I know he’s here I’m not going to relax.” Sharon sighed.

“If you insist it Brother,” She said defeated.

“I do.” Dark said confidently nodding. Sharon shrugged before grabbing Dark by the shoulders and tossing him down upon the ground.

“You may be my older brother but I’m the one who babysits you both when we’re traveling! Now get this through your stupid head Dark! When it comes to taking care of this family nobody, and I mean NOBODY! is going to tell me what to do! Got it?” She threatened. Dark gulped much louder than he intended, nodding in silent fear. Sharon took a moment for the fear to set in, than released her brother. “Good, now I don’t want to hear another –“ A twig snapped rather loudly and both Waltz siblings were in a ready position, staves out and ready to cast spells.

“North eastern edge,” Dark said quietly.

“Double blast?” Sharon offered, taking a few steps back behind Dark. Dark nodded confidently, preparing to cast his spell. Another twig snapped, and both felt unease sweep over them as they turned to their left. Sharon began to shake violently, the fear setting in. Dark placed a hand upon her to calm his sister, but he stopped as he saw his own hand betray his desire to be courageous as it shook violently despite his will demanding it to cease.

“Sharon, get closer to me.” Dark whispered. But it was futile, for he knew he had no voice so long as his body quaked in fear. An eerie wind began to blow, and Sharon’s skin began to erupt in goose bumps alarming her and making her even more nervous.

“What’s going on Dark?” Sharon whispered. But she knew it was a waste of time. Even if he did know what was going on it would do neither of them any good. The clouds over head began to block out the sun as the clearing lost its only source of light. The fire had died as the wind picked up and nearly blew Sharon’s hat away.

As both got next to each other a presence approached from behind them, but it knew they couldn’t detect what was stalking them. And even if they grew aware another twig would snap. They were caught in the spider web now, and it grew more obvious that at this point the two mages were dead. Two icy hands stretched forth and almost caressed their heads without touching them. After a moment of pause the hand touched the very top of their heads and shoved them downwards.

“OW!” Sharon said annoyed. Dark just allowed himself to get pushed forward as they turned to look at their masked assailant.

“WILFRED!” Dark shouted at the top of his lungs.

“I SWEAR I SHALL KILL YOU!” Sharon said moving in on her elder brother.
Wilfred Waltz was the eldest of the Instruments of death. He stood the tallest, 6’3 and athletically built. His hat revealed the only trait of a Black Mage, their eyes. The golden orbs looked upon the other two mages, and Wilfred’s heart melted almost instantly. It had been very rough for them recently. He felt I was his fault, but for now all those worries fled his thoughts, as he felt happy to be with them.

Scooping into them he snatched each up in their arms, holding them tightly. They were the last things in his life, and he had gone to hell and back for them. They both hugged their brother as they began to talk like little children, first complaining about Wilfred’s approach, and then laughing about what they did while he was gone. Wilfred felt peaceful at this scene as they began to make dinner, totally relaxed and calm for the briefest of moments as they all just laughed. While he may not be able to talk to them, he knew that they were pleasing him, making him laugh when appropriate.

This cheery scene is what Wilfred wants from his life; a peaceful time to relax with family. But even the greatest of the three had no clue what was in store for them, but he did have just one clue; a dream or vision that he had after his uncle’s funeral. But he pushed those thoughts away for now, and enjoyed the serenity of the moment.

Yet further from the scene stood a small group of men, two in trees, and one upon the ground standing with his legs locked and arms across his chest. He didn’t even bother to pay attention to the man who snuck up behind him.

“So those are the Black Mages?” The man said sternly.

“Yes sir,” the man stopped trying to creep up upon his lord and stood next to him, squatting with a demonic grin across his face. “The project itself before us.”

“What project you fool?” The squatter shrugged.

“My lord, I hear only rumors. But for what I do know, Bester’s last thoughts were of this,” he said quietly. “The dance of death is only a three step waltz.”
The man gruffed it off. “Bester was a telepathic moron, and no more. His thoughts don’t concern me. And mind your own if you have nothing to say. We were assigned to kill them, now let’s do this.”

“Sir I have but a question?” the squatter popped up and began to dance around in a circle before bowing low and glaring into the eyes of his master. “Do you know how to Dance with death?” The senior officer took a moment and felt unease by the question. He didn’t bother answering it as he pushed the weaker man away.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Who are we? I dare ask the same of you. For in reality are we really anything at all? A Black Mage Riddle

The early morning dew slowly slipped down the hill of the tiny leaf that it called home. As it gently glided down to the stem it ran into many of its brethren. One by one the drop of water grew and grew until it became a title wave. But as it dropped off the leaf, it fell upon the earth and shattered like a wine glass. All the concentrated efforts of the water were useless against the power of earth as more and more drops pounded into the ground. Yet the earth stood strong against the bombing shrugging off the assault. As the sun rose the drops began to grow frantic, but soon it was futile.

During the war between the elements Wilfred was standing against the stream of water. His staff was behind him and his hands were outstretched over the water. Concentrating all his might he made a small cone erupt out of the water, like a windy tornado in a dusty valley. He poured more and more of his energy into making his creation mature. With a pure thought of will he made the twister dance gently across the water. Slowly left and right it moved. As he raised his hands ever so slightly higher and higher the twister grew drinking from the lake as nourishment to feed its vastly growing size. After Wilfred felt satisfied he took his other hand and placed it directly above his other hand. With all his might he placed the trembling hand against his throat. With determination in his eyes he opened his mouth.

“Water my mistress, water my passion. But Wilfred lost it. The twister began to spin erratically. He quickly used his other hand to stabilize the spell but it was futile. In his frustration he raised both hands to the air and swept them down before him in an X pattern. He turned his back as the watery tornado exploded. Water splashed everywhere as Wilfred walked away from the lake. He felt a single drop hit his face somehow, but reached up to remove it. It was followed by another and another. His throat swelled and felt as if it was on fire.

I promise my siblings, I will learn to talk again and protect you more confidently than ever. And he stopped the tears from flowing as he wiped them from his face. He had endured so much pain all because of one man. That one man had incapacitated Wilfred to the point where he could no longer reliably help his family and keep them safe from the evils of the world. It was only when blood was spilled that he had enough energy to summon his magic, for when a black mage smells blood and can taste its pleasant scent upon their tongue he may then enter a blood trance.

In this trance a Black Mage can summon his magic even more powerful with thought than with words when not in a trance. It was the only way Wilfred had been able to use his magic, but he only could only use it when his family was being harmed by another.

Yet Wilfred trained nevertheless focused on keeping his family safe. He had been able to cast simpler spells without the air of a blood trance. Yet even those spells would leave Wilfred exhausted and in need of much rest. But mastering his magic was just one thing hat Wilfred hoped to achieve. The other was a much broader and harder task. He was trying to regain his voice.
All attempts he made to regain his lost voice had been futile, only able to murmur a few words. He couldn’t yell even if he tried. And after each attempt he always found himself failing even more and more. He grew frustrated with each attempt, but seeing his brother and sister would cast the doubt away. He would do this for them and more if he was able. It was a point to Wilfred to train himself when they were asleep, and it became a burden to him. He would only let himself sleep only every other night. These choices were Wilfred’s and his alone.

The camp area was filled with smoke, which could only mean that Sharon was awake and cooking. The smell of bacon and eggs were strong in the air, and relaxed Wilfred. He was very tired and hungry, but he pushed the tired thoughts away and pressed food to the front.

“Good morning Wilfred.” Sharon said cheerfully. Wilfred nodded to her gently as he sat next to her. “What was that? Had a good night?” She mimicked. Her spatula began to scrape a little harder. “As did I, Wil.” She grabbed the bacon with her hand in frustration and regretted it immediately. Wilfred got up to help her, but she kicked a rock at his feet.

“IF YOU WON’T LET ME HELP YOU THAN WHY DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HELP US!” Wilfred’s entire body just tensed up. His eyes peered at his sister, and the unspoken question was shortly answered. Sharon began to break down into sobbing tears of anger and frustration as she spoke.

“Of course I do Wilfred,” She through bacon down. “I knew since day one. You are burdening yourself with this and while you may think your trying to protect us you’re only pushing us further away.” Wilfred looked down, softly scuffling back and forth. “You need us Wilfred, and we need you.” She said gently. Wilfred looked up at his little sister and smiled. “Now, I burned the bacon but the eggs are still good. Eat those while I wake up Dark.” Wilfred hugged his sister tightly, ruffling her hair and pushing her off. She ran over to dark and lit the tip of his sleeping blanket on fire. Dark quickly shouted profanity in alarm and kicked the fire out as Sharon watched on in giggling amusement.

“Sharon, you jerk!” Dark shouted. Sharon just laughed skipping towards Wilfred as she prepared to cook more food. Wilfred just gave a disapproving shake of his head, but smiled ever so discreetly to her. He somehow felt today was going to be a good day.

The last of the dew assaulted the ground, making a small crack in the surface.

[The Black Waltz Project]

The sun filtered itself through the trees, small beams of light attempting to penetrate the thick shroud of darkness. As the sun rose higher, the beams approached from a different angle, as if trying to gain leverage to destroy the yolk of shadows. Every day this titanic battle would rage on. A small boy screamed for help from the sun, stretching up as far as it could despite the earthy prison he was stuck in. As the time went on, the sun had no choice but to move on, no longer able to focus the light upon the imprisoned one.

“Water my master, Water my mistress.”

“Which spell is it, you bafoon?” The senior officer paced back and forth as he watched over the clearing where the Waltz’s were staying. A round stout man kept muttering the beginning of the spell over and over as he looked deep into an ancient tome.

“The answers aren’t going to be found by threatening me. I’m doing the best I can it’s just that this branch of magic is not my area of expertise. I was assigned to augment this group in the mission, not be a bunny.”

“Gents let’s not get off on the wrong the foot.” The skinny man said squatting. “Try looking up in the black section you poor excuse for a mage.” The round man made a motion to slap the mouth where the insult came from, but the senior officer grabbed the wrist and twisted it. The tome fell to the ground as the fat mage twisted with the motion of the arm, a yelp of alarm escaping his lips.

“Rufus my patience is almost at its end! Just listen to him and shut the hell up. Barty you shut the hell up as well!” the officer kicked the smaller comrade. “My patience is growing to thin of this waiting with you delinquents. The sooner this mission is over the better.” Rufus flipped through the pages quickly now after he retrieved his book and stopped to read at a particular area.

“I’m right aren’t I?” Barty said softly, bobbing back and forth on the balls of his feet. Rufus only nodded in response.

“It’s a water command spell. When he is near a body of water he can control it for a brief moment. Otherwise it’s just an offense spell using water. Not too terribly powerful, a step up from the three prime spells. It seems in those entire three nit wits they are, at best, junior mages. A small task force of our junior knights could cast more effective spells than them. I am unclear why the council assigned us to this mission.” Rufus shut his book and shook his head in a disapproving way. The senior officer growled very lowly dropping a picture of a man in a dark trench coat laying on the ground, nothing more than a rotting corpse.

“Can junior summon death to their aid? Can Junior best one of the greatest knights in our order? I ask this only because if it’s true than I better quit being a Knight of the Apocalypse for their training far surpasses my own!” Rufus looked down in embarrassment. “I thought not! Now everybody get over here! Licet you to!” A lithe muscular man dropped from above, a small Elvin cloak covered his shoulders as he put on a grin much like a cat amused with a dying rat. “I want it clear that those three are not to be taken any lighter than the priority dictated! This is official Knights work and we are official Knights of the Apocalypse. Now do me the courtesy of holding your tongues, quitting your bitching, and getting your heads in this game. The top Knight and the best telepath don’t get bested and killed by amateurs. Once a fluke, twice a second check. Remember that!”

“And third time completes the Waltz!” Barty chimed in clapping his hands together. The senior officer took all his force and back handed Barty, his face letting out spit as he twirled for a second bouncing on the ground far away from the circle. Licet laughed at the display of force.

“Jealous, Matthew? Jealous that other simpletons have something for which they can hold over the Sigma’s and you don’t?” Licet began to walk up the tree, his hands firmly pressed across his chest. “Ever since Xavier became the legend, and you became the…what did you become? Oh that’s right…nothing!” Matthew glared at his comrade but instead laughed after a moments unease.

“That’s okay Licet. After today, I’ll have something that not even the council will deny.” Matthew said, stretching his hand out a clenching it in a tight fist. “I shall have the death of the Waltz family, and all the glory that goes with it shall belong to me…”
“Do not forget Matthew,” Licet said lowly. “While the others do not out rank you I DO.” The elf did a back flip in the air landing square on his feet before the senior officer. “So we share this glory.” The lithe elf extended his hand to the ground gently picking up a flower upon the ground. He extended the flower to the man before him. Matthew looked deep into the elves eyes and then after a moment nodded, shaking his hand and crushing the flower in it. But as he shook his hand he felt pressure begin to crush the bones. He looked down and saw that vines began to wrap around his hand, slowly working its way up.

“Do not ever mess with me Matthew. My magic and skills go beyond human comprehension and I am too powerful to be swept aside and watch you take all the glory that should rightfully be mine!” Licet let go and Matthew immediately looked back at his hand. Just a single flower, picked from the ground rested in his hand.

Matthew tossed the flower down and walked forward. “Come on you all,” He said determinedly. “We have work to do.” Slowly Rufus and Barty gathered their things, not knowing what happened between the two men.

As the rosebud hit the ground, the little boy cried. The sun was slowly creeping away from him, letting the eternal darkness surround him for the last time.

[The Black Waltz Project]

As the mid-day sun hit the forest the glow of the morning had diminished, replaced by the gentlest of breezes as the Waltz’s progressed through the clearing. With their belongings packed they were now making way to whatever town they needed to go to and make their plans. Wilfred and Dark peered over a map of the area as Sharon stopped every now and then gathering twigs and flowers and making a crown with them. Oddly before she picked up anything in the forest, she asked for permission, waiting a few moments before picking the object she wanted up. Sometimes she waited so long Wilfred and Dark had to call back for her, but she waited until she got a response from whatever invisible creature granted her the earth’s bounty.

At long last the question was asked, Dark breaking the proverbial ice bluntly with a pick. “What are you doing, Sharon?” Wilfred gave a side ways glance looking at the twigs and flowers. Somewhere in this forest she had found red and even black roses. He made a mental note to look harder around him for such odd out of place things. His thoughts were interrupted by Sharon’s sweet voice.

“Nothing,” She said in a childish tone. Wilfred laughed slightly making Sharon giggle, but Dark wasn’t so impressed.

“You’ve been collecting crap all morning, slowing us down, we’re farther than we anticipated we would be at this point in the day and it’s all your fault! Now stop acting like a child,” It was as if a dark malevolent presence possessed Dark’s hands as he snatched the crown and tossed it to the ground. It exploded in a tiny pile of leaves, the twigs all breaking and the flowers being scattered around. But nobody was paying much attention to that as all eyes were upon Dark.

“What the hell-“ Sharon began to say, but was cut off by her brother.

“I’m doing my damned best to keep us out of danger so we don’t have to worry just one more day about being attacked and mauled and separated! Apparently something somebody has to think of because you sure as hell are not!” Sharon felt tears swelling up inside her, but she fought them back. She took a deep breath and nodded, looking back at her brother.

“Sorry Dark, you’re right.” Dark took a moment to prepare for her tantrum, but was surprised she caved in quickly. “I promise I won’t hold us up any longer.” Dark now knew what Wilfred felt when he couldn’t talk. After a moment of awkwardness he spoke, taking his left hand and scratching the back of his head in a nervous way.

“Ya well…” He began, but he too caved in. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come down on you that hard.” Sharon again just nodded approaching her brother and giving him a hug. He felt her embrace and returned it. As they broke off he saw in her hand the same twigs and flowers he tossed aside. “Wha?!” Dark was lost for words again as Sharon’s laughter became loud and rambunctious.

“How did you do that?” He managed finally.

“I knew you’d realize what an ass you had been as soon I caved in, and my reward for not fighting was Wilfred gathering my stuff and letting me know I can continue to play with the forest so long as I keep up with you two!” Dark turned to Wilfred who shrugged as he grabbed the map tossing it to Dark. “But-“ That was Dark’s last word as Wilfred’s golden eyes grew into two small slits. Dark felt a little betrayed, but he knew anything more was futile. Wilfred did know better than Dark, and he yielded to that knowledge.

They continued their walk as the sun began to give into the night, Sharon still gathering things from the forest as Dark and Wilfred led her to the nearest village.

~*~*~

As the night grew closer the Waltz’s felt their limbs growing steadily tired as each step started to become more a chore than a subconscious activity. They voluntarily skipped lunch and promised a big dinner when they reached the town deciding an hour or two into the darkness was worth being in a bed for the night rather than the ground.

Wilfred’s senses were tingling, but he didn’t know why. Something in the air was alerting him to be mindful, somehow screaming that someone was watching. He looked at Dark who nodded, letting Wilfred know that he shared his suspicious feelings. They both looked at Sharon, who was still playing with the crown as she maneuvered around the twigs trying to get them all to hold as one.

As if a tree fell in the forest, Wilfred and Dark both drew their staves towards the sound of the snapping twig. Sharon was the only one who looked behind them, and she quickly dropped her project going for her staff and casting a strip of fire towards the middle of her brothers. A small screech of panic was heard as a shadow darted out of the way.

A solitary man charged out from the forest into the road, a long bastard sword held tightly in both his hands, left pointing outwards as he tucked it close to hip. Dark reacted fast enough, freezing the ground. Whoever was charging though was far expierenced in battle as he leaped in the air extending his arms out and placing his legs firmly on the ground, sliding on the trick Dark tried. Wilfred held his staff out and tried his damnedest to cast a spell, but nothing happened. The sliding warrior checked Sharon flat on her face. He placed his boot on her face, rubbing it as he grinned taunting the two brothers. Wilfred, frustrated with the situation threw his staff at the man, and to everyone’s surprise the staff connected with his knee, felling the man long enough for Sharon to roll off to the side and cast another spell. Despite the warriors best efforts he started to slumber peacefully.

Behind Dark and Wilfred two men slowly made their way out sneaking up on their prey. Wilfred turned Dark to face them and all three stood staring at each other, confused as to what to do. Dark reacted first, a large sickle forming before him, but as fast as he made it was quickly dispelled.

“Try me again Black mage!” the fatter man shouted. “My magic is far superior to yours!” Dark tried again, and the fat man waved a small wand dispelling it. The shorter and skinnier man laughed sadistically, placing a dagger in his mouth and holding two more in hands as he began another attack run, but a strip of fire hit square on the chest knocking him back and tripping him. Dark took advantage of the moment, screaming as he cast the spell,

“Cold hatred of a fight, terror that stalks night, the grave and beyond hear my song. The three headed dog that guards your gates, grant me their power fueled by hate!” The earth shook for a moment around Dark as a large spire of ice erupted. Dark took his staff and smashed the block, tiny sickles the size of a thousand knitting needles all aimed at the fat man. “Dodge this fatty,” Dark whispered blowing gently on the ice sending it forward. The mage swung his wand to no avail and covered himself for fear of the unknown. But moments before impact the ground shook again, a large rock rising in defense of the other mage. The ice shattered against the granite and Dark cursed in frustration.

“WILFRED!” Sharon screamed causing Dark to turn to her brother who was locked in a fierce combat by the warrior. The large sword nearly chopped Wil’s head off and immeadieltly Dark knew the way the weapon was being wielded was in the same way Vladimir wielded his; arrogantly and, worst of all, in a toying fashion. Dark was prepared to cast another spell when he felt one dagger against his back and two against his neck. A cold sickening voice spoke to him in a muffled tone as if his mouth held something in it,

“Give upth mage, your time isth upth!” Sharon watched in horror at Wilfred, unaware a tall lithe man walked plainly up to her, With a flick of his wrist vines enraptured her, capturing her as well. In a few moments the flat edge of the blade hit Wilfred square against the side of his face knocking him out. Dark’s eyes darted around for someway to help but soon he felt the back of his head get hit and he was knocked into the dream realm, his sisters screams his only lullaby.

[The Black Waltz Project]

The demons’ shadow’s danced wildly on their back drop, some jumping for joy, others only moving in a rhythmic circle but each in beat with crackles and pops of the music. Some danced off their prison stage and landed upon the flesh dancing there and then retreating. The dance continued so long as the music played.

Sharon was the first to awaken, the flames awakening her slowly and calmly so she didn’t make to much noise. Her body felt tense but she knew was not being tied up. She checked her body for cuts and bruises before she noticed Wilfred and Dark were both tied up. Each brother was tied up using multiple ropes at the ankles, thighs, wrists, arms, and back to back. They couldn’t move even if they tried.

As she took the time to survey her surroundings Sharon now saw why she wasn’t tied up like them. It required an immense amount of teamwork and concentration. While Sharon and Wilfred would have been difficult, she was sure they could escape, but Dark wasn’t as nimble as she was. But she realized it was more just an extra precaution than a means to hold them indefinitely. They were inside a tent and she positive it was locked up tightly. The floor mat was sewn to the wall sections, and the rods were made of steel. She looked out the little doorway, and figured as much. If they tried to simply walk out they would walk off a cliff. They were trapped. Worst off the linen prison casted shadows horribly with the fire, so anyone watching would know the second she was about and out. Her only option was to wait.

“A curious construct the little girl made,” A heavenly voice stated patiently. “Don’t you think Matthew?”

“I could care less what toys girls play with.” A man gruffed back. She could see the taller man walk towards the tent, and then turn towards the man he talked to.

“You should Matthew. I have an exercise for you, if you feel up to it.” The voice was so soothing and calming. The man got up, placing a plate on the ground.

“You wish to train me now, on a mission.” This wasn’t a question, it was said in such a deep tone Sharon could smell the resentment. That man must have been Matthew.

“I had an honor done to me Matthew…A great one. I am an elf, I live a long life.” Matthew spat on the ground.

“Get on with it Licet,” Matthew said sternly. “I want morning to be rid of you.” Licet the elf just sat, his limber features dancing as a shadow on the wall.

“I am lucky then, for you were just a child at the time. The End Times Battle I take it you do not recall?” Licet asked curiously. Matthew shrugged leaning back and kicking his feet up on another log.

“No, I don’t. I was stationed at the Fortress of Pestilence training under Lord Kisada. The Avatar Melina Dahlios was just killed by Xavier-“ Licet immediately cut off his companion.

“Sigma was cleared of all charges. It was with Master Frenzy’s in trepidations that the avatars fell, not his.” Matthew continued.

“Then what is the point of your exercise?” Matthew returned in a fury. Sharon could tell Licet was toying with his patience.

“My point is that I was there, and after that battle I had the honor of serving with Xavier and he taught me so much. You see, Xavier knew about the Waltz’s before they became a threat.” Sharon’s heart froze. “A fool named Vivitarian, and two others. A husband and wife couple I believe named Agni and Ardur Waltz.”

“Spare me all this please? If I wanted a bed time story I would have asked for it, now get on with it!” Matthew yelled. Sharon cursed silently, wishing to hear more about her parents.

“Curious to me, Matthew, that a black rose would just grow in this forest, even a rose at that. Especially these twigs…so strong and durable, yet unwilling to bend to my will.”

“I admit,” Matthew said a little calmer as he slowly stood up to shift something in the fire. “That those things are out of place. But I care not for it.” He continued sitting back down.

“Ah…than you failed my exercise.” Licet said sagely. Matthew was silent for a moment and Sharon was sure he was going to explode, but to her surprise he merely laughed.

“Explain then.” He said mildly.

“Xavier taught me to look around. Surroundings are important but what is in those surroundings? Why are they there?” Licet got up. “They all have a purpose, it is up to us to decipher it. Sometimes…sometimes Matthew, the simplest things end up turning into the greatest treasurers of legend. For in my hand is Agni’s headdress, a simple gift from her mother she intended to pass to her daughter. And do you know how long this little headdress has passed from generation to generation?” Matthew was engulfed in the story as was Sharon. She strained herself to listen without moving to much as she drank in every delicious detail about her family.

“Spare me the suspense. You mean to tell me that bundle of twigs and flowers are something special?”

“Yes I do. You may not have a knack for things like this, but how long does a flower live when cut all the way up to bud where it spawned from?” Matthew thought for a brief second.

“I’d suppose not long at all.” Licet made a motion and Sharon assumed he held up the two flowers. Now that she thought of it, both the flowers she found were perfectly alive, but not growing out of the ground. “I’ll be damned, I was wrong.”

“No Matthew, you weren’t. I’m trying not to condescend you or make you feel stupid. This is a training exercise to teach you to be aware and think outside the mortal realms while still thinking inside it. This common flower, combined with these common twigs makes a very uncommon artifact of great power.”

“But what?” Matthew was now trapped by what Licet was saying. As was Sharon, screaming inside her head for the answer to more information on her mother, but Licet only laughed turning to the tent.

“I’d tell you, but our guests have awoken.” Quickly Matthew walked up to the tent with Licet. The sound of swords being drawn made Sharon shiver as she curled into a tight ball.

As they approached the tent the demon shadow’s all fled as the music of the crackling fire stopped playing.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Sharon closed her eyes as tightly as she could, the tent was ripped open as the sound of a dagger ripping through cloth broke the uneasy tense air. Sharon felt two warm hands lift her quickly as if it were a mother lifting a babe from a crib. She dared to open one eye and saw the warrior Matthew starring back at her, a grin upon his face as he shook his head in a disapproving way.

“You need to learn to stay asleep little girl.” He joked. Suddenly his face became stern and full of rage as he barked loudly. “RUFUS YOU FAT WORTHLESS GIT! AT ATTENTION NOW!” Sharon now opened both eyes and was startled to see a small almost frail looking man dancing around with a dagger placed firmly in his mouth. He stopped only long enough to laugh as the man undoubtedly to be known as Rufus entered.

“My lord?” He asked cautiously. Matthew turned so fast Sharon was sure there had to be magic involved. His fist had made contact with Rufus’s chest and the mage flew back outside bouncing upon the ground coming to a stop before the flickering fire. Slowly the mage got up coughing up blood as the man with the daggers laughed jumping up and down pointing at his companion.

“Care to wander why I did that?” Matthew said full of annoyance. “It’s very simple I must admit. I asked a simple thing of you, and you simply just DIDN’T do it!” The man rubbed the back of his head as he looked to Sharon.

“I don’t understand, Barty watched me cast all three sleep spells. She should have been out until morning at best!” Rufus became slightly angered. “Why is she still standing!” He started to convulse as his hands turned into two small fists.

“If it pleases you my lord,” The man with the dagger said removing the article from his mouth. “Rufus did indeed cast such a spell, and he made no shortcuts with it.” Everybody looked at the smaller man.

“You vouch personally Barty?” The angelic voice of Licet sang out from above Sharon’s head. Barty nodded, but lifted a finger.

“I do however,” He said glaring at Rufus. “Reserve my tounge for how effective his magic is!” he said in a dark sickening voice. Rufus’s eyes turned into two tiny slits as he glared at Barty. Matthew remained quiet before turning to Licet and Sharon.

“I am no longer leaving the fate of this mission up to fickle magic. Rufus, as your senior officer I am reporting to the council that you have failed in your part in this mission and that punishment be reserved for your teachers and not you. It’s not your fault you’re a miserable mage, if anybody it’s theirs!” Matthew said in a matter of fact voice. Rufus’s face spoke volumes. It was as if his tiny little world just shattered. Barty laughed uncontrollably now, even falling to the ground and rolling all over the ground. Licet spoke again, his voice calming every nerve in her tense body.

“I shall brew up a potion to knock her out as well as make extra for the other two. But don’t blame all this on Rufus until we understand the situation more.” Licet said, his tone getting a bit more stern. Matthew began to grow irritated but the a spoke again, loudly. “If Rufus can produce concrete evidence as to why the mage simply in her sleep countered his most potent sleeping spell, than I will personally vouch for him. However, if I am going to stick my neck out for him, he most produce that which I ask for if he didn’t,” Licet said in a toying fashion. “Then on top of your recommendation Matthew I think I will add more.” Rufus heard all the unspoken threats in his mind as he immediately went to work, running away to what Sharon could only assume was his tent.

“Barty, go catch dinner,” Matthew barked. “And make it edible this time!” Licet walked out of the tent and for the first time Sharon could get a clearer understanding of her surroundings. It appeared they were at the edge of a mountain range and the cliff was just into a valley that led up the side of it. Still the drop wouldn’t leave anybody in tip top shape to run away if they lived at all. From what she could assume about being on the run and hiding, the advantage was the ability to see who was coming, and have only one way for someone to approach the camp.

“Clever,” She barely whispered. Licet’s head dropped a little lower, his sweet intoxicating voice whispered in her ear so only she could hear it.

“You are in a lot of trouble right now, I’d be a wise little girl and remain silent.” He wasn’t stern in his tone, more brotherly like. As if Licet was doing her a favor. “I am taking her with me to keep an eye on. Stay with the other two magi. I doubt Barty and Rufus can survive a round two should they awaken.” Matthew nodded walking into the tent of sight leaving Sharon all alone with Licet. They both remained silent as they entered into the darkness of the forest.

[The Black Waltz Project]

They walked for what seemed like hours and Sharon heard the forest speaking with her. It was asking if she needed anything else for her headdress but she refused. Right now she needed her staff, a few spaces of separation and if any were available she thought miserably, a prayer. She stretched her arms out and continued to walk, glancing behind her to see if Licet looked weary. To her dismal luck, no. She however didn’t feel threatened at all in the situation. Licet had been kind to her, even helping her out, but there was something about him she couldn’t place.

“We are here, please sit.” Licet said snapping his fingers. A group of vines pulled a log closer for Sharon to sit.

“Um,” Sharon felt awkward. “Thanks.” Licet nodded once starting a fire. After the sounds of popping and crackling filled the air he began collecting various plants for his sleeping potion. As the boredom finally reached its climax of a leaf falling Sharon spoke. “How do you know so much about my mother?” Licet dropped the vial he took out of his bag caught unprepared for anything of that magnitude from Sharon so early.

“You are very personal and frank Sharon Waltz. Ju-“

“If you finish that statement as just like my mother I’ll pounce on you and punch the puss out of your face you…you….uh…”

“And you are also very hot tempered. You tend to get way in over your head. And yes, I’ll say it. Just like your mother. Or so I’ve heard.” Sharon grew so annoyed by the comment she crushed leaves in her hand without even knowing it. HOW DARE HE! Sharon thought seething as her eyes focused upon the elf. He has no idea WHAT he is talking about. I can be nothing like a mother I never had! Sharon focused her anger at the man, but he continued to talk,

“I’ll admit Sharon,” His voice began to sooth her nerves again. “I didn’t know much about my family either. My mother and father were killed. I watched who did it. Eventually I killed the one who did it and became a Knight of the Apocalypse.” Sharon spat as she heard the name.

“I don’t care for your history simpleton fool! I asked about my mother now start telling me!” Sharon instantly wondered where the words she said formed from. Her heart felt very dark but she had no reason to be this upset. She looked back at Licet. He was startled again as he nearly broke a vial. He turned to her and produced a small smile.

“Very well, but I admit it’s not much.” Sharon leaned back preparing to hear the words he spoke. “Your mother was Agni Waltz, Black Mage, died at age 29, reasons due to stress. Married to Ardur Waltz, died 53, reasons unclear. And now you know what I know.” Sharon stared at the Elf and blinked slowly, multiple times. He pulled a pot out of his bag and placed it in the fire.

“You have got to be kidding me…” She breathed in a seething voice. “That’s all you know?” Licet shrugged now pouring the vials into the pot non-phased by the twigs she was now snapping in anger. After a moment he spoke in a sage like tone.

“I know a little about a lot.” Two more vials were pulled from his bag and emptied into the pot. “You on the other hand know little about nothing.” Sharon felt insulted but kept her mind focused. She looked at the fire for focus and then returned to the conversation.

“Tell me,” She said in a stern voice, again looking at the fire for focus. “What is this potent artifact my mother had? What common things did I find are going to make a very uncommon item?” Licet laughed this time, stirring his little pot as smoke began to swirl into the air.

“That my dear is nothing. Just the artifact I thought you were building turned to be wrong.” Sharon studied him for a second. The more she focused on her hate and the fire, the more Licet’s angelic voice turned to a Sirens call. He was no longer warm and inviting. But he did nothing different and wasn’t being any less polite. Sharon had no real reason to mistrust this idle chit chat but her body screamed for her to see something she couldn’t understand.

“Than amuse me, what did you think I was building?” Sharon countered. Licet stirred casually as he looked up at her. “And yes, I don’t care if it’s boring to hear.” He laughed again.

“Very well,” He said sagely. “Have you ever heard of the Crown of Ashes?”

[The Black Waltz Project]

Dark slowly woke himself up as he felt the side of his face ache with pain. He tried to move his hand but found it was tied up, as was his entire body for that fact. He felt very sore and the first thing he saw was a warrior glaring at him. Dark sighed loudly knowing that he wasn’t going to be going anywhere.

“Good you’re awake now as well!” the warrior was furious at this statement he made. “Rufus is so going to die. That fat worthless excuse for a mage.” Dark recalled the man with the wand being stout and porky and figured that was to be Rufus. “Barty!” Matthew called. The lithe man with the daggers returned and Dark instantly knew who he was. “Tell Rufus that another awoke. He is in deep at this point.” Barty bowed low very low to the warrior.

“My lord, not that I like the fat one, but his time frame for the spell does coincide with this hour. Rufus is not in the wrong here.” Dark’s eyes focused on the warrior and he was shocked to see him look at Dark’s golden eyes.

“Fine, bring him to me anyway.” Barty left the room, still bowing low as he walked backwards out of the tent. As soon as they were alone the Warrior talked. “I am Matthew Jarter, the best pupil to leave the fortress of Famine! I have trained under Lord Kisada and your magic does not impress me. I’ll admit that I forsake Magic to augment my own strength and thus I know little about it. Do you follow?” Dark looked at the man, then shrugged. “Damn mages, none of them know anything.” He muttered looking away.

“Oh yeah,” Dark spoke in a mocking tone. “I’ll just tell my prisoner to help me with a personal problem like he was my best friend, deeerrrr, that sounds like a good idea!” Mathew approached Dark and his boot was inches from his face.

“At this range I could kill you, does that sound like a good idea?” Dark caught the hint. He looked up at Matthew with a cold stare studying for a moment, and then speaking in an icy tone he asked,

“What did you want to know about magic? Why don’t you have the fat man answer you?” Matthew walked towards the opposite wall facing away from Dark.

“He has been failing me lately. Sleep spells, tell me…do Black Mages counter them easily?” Dark laughed at the silly question. He could not grasp how anyone could be so blind to magic.

“You have no clue about magic at all…” Mathew turned to Dark and lifted his boot. “Alright, alright, jeeze.” Dark sighed and spoke softly. “Magic has no definite or boundaries save for one generic rule. So you know, there is never black and white, only grey areas. That’s the only rule. People can make things happen, others can raise the dead, really anybody with the mind to want to can do anything with the right power and training very much in the same way you train to be a warrior.”

“Go on, I am more interested in the basic arts.” Dark laughed a little more, very amused that the mighty warrior was looking to his prisoner for answers to simple questions.

“Mostly I think magic is split into ‘omancy’s and arts. Geomancy, and Necromancy, Herbomancy, to name a few, are magic that can be done innately with mind and little to zero augmentations. Black, White, Blue, Red, these are generic colors that basically tell you what the art is capable of. Arts can also be heavily augmented by items or tomes, but generally you don’t need to have them to summon spells.” Matthew stared at Dark for a moment and Rufus looked at the Black Mage.

“Do you have concrete evidence for us yet Rufus?” Matthew spoke. Rufus began to shift around nervously. “I’ll take that as a no. This mage here is very useful. I’d ask him.” Rufus looked right into Dark’s eyes and after a moment he spat right into his face.

“I’ll go back to my books. I’ll find your answer.” Rufus stormed out of the tent and walked away. Matthew laughed looking at Dark. He approached the mage and bent down low.

“You three have made a mockery of Rufus. He is so furious that you three keep countering his spells that I bet he can’t see the obvious reason is because your black arts are just a stronger branch of magic thus making you stronger.” Dark was humiliated as the spit rolled down his face, and he used his shoulder to wipe it off. When he was done he looked up at Matthew.

“Let me put my answer in the way a dumb barbarian could understand.” Matthew’s face grew cold as he glared at Dark. “Just because a person is a highborn fighter doesn’t mean a runt peasant can’t beat the crap out of him.” Matthew got up and turned around facing away from Dark.

“I guess you’re right,” And he swiftly turned around and kicked Dark in the face, putting him back into a dream state. “Put him in Rufus’ room.” As Dark fought to open his eyes he gave in again to his darkness.

[The Black Waltz Project]

“What the crown is, so you know Sharon,” Licet began taking out a cup of water from his satchel offering some to Sharon, who refused it sternly motioning for the elf to continue. “Well, anyway,” he said taking a swig himself. “Is not full fact, I just know rumors and stories about it.”

“I understand that! GET ON WITH IT!” Sharon was annoyed Licet kept stalling for time. Even when he was being threatened he remained calm and it was beginning to take its toll on Sharon. Licet spoke again, his angelic voice now beginning to trespass on Sharon’s nerves as she grew to hate it.

“My, wouldn’t we be very bad at reading mystery books?” He joked.

“Try my patience and your death will be a mystery!” Sharon countered. Again her heart ached as the hostile words broke through the forest like a gunshot. Licet eyed her carefully and then smiled.

“You seem to keep forgetting that you are my guest here, so knock off the attitude little one. Or the only mystery I will hear about is the one explaining how you died, got it?” Sharon remained calm despite the threat. She was surprised to see the irritation grow upon his face. “Do you know what I can do to you?” He whispered in silent rage. Sharon shrugged in a so-so manner. She didn’t particularly care about what he was capable of and the less she cared the more she realized it infuriated him.

“I know what I could do to you, you-“ But as she spoke the words vines began to sprout from the ground, entrapping her as they bound her body. She glared at Licet as a vein in his neck began to throb it seemed. She just remained calm but eventually she cried out in pain as the vines began to squeeze. Licet recalled the vines after a moment and Sharon fell to the ground gasping for air. When she looked up she noticed the elf was packing his things.

“Come on you miserable child,” He said gathering up the potion and dropping it into vials. “You are nothing to me now. I thought you would be different, but it appears you are not.” Sharon got up, and her mind began to race with thoughts.

“What do you mean different?” She asked. “Did you think I would cooperate with you after a few nice gestures and kind words? YOU ATTACKED MY FAMILY YOU JERK!” Licet turned upon her grabbing both her arms and tossing her with all his might back onto the log.

“While others may care for the manner in which you destroyed Vladimir Sigma I do not! I am one of the highest ranking members of my order and I do everything in my power to show that I deserve such a position, but the council denies me! Making me share the glory I disserve with others!” He turned his back to Sharon as he continued to clean his working area. “Now however I have the means to elevate myself to where I properly belong! I don’t care about who bests who and why and how they did it! I care about what it takes to get that power and how to keep it!” Sharon slowly got up and began to walk away from the elf. His voice was no longer calming or irritating, it was just full of malevolence and spite now.

“Why does everyone want Vladimir so badly?” Sharon whispered more to herself than to her kidnapper. Licet laughed out loud in hysterics, his back still to her.

“Because Vladimir is the end bringer! The child of destiny! The prophecy spoke of a child who would bring about the end of the order, but simple mages wouldn’t care about that! Yet if I had what I seek, than nothing, not even the end bringer, could stop me!” He bent down low again, bending at the knees to grab a few twigs. Sharon used that as her opportunity. She turned as one like a rotating pillar and sprinted for it. Up and over logs she jumped as she tried to put as much distance between her and Licet.

It wasn’t long before the elf was upon her. He toyed with her and nipped at her heels playfully like a dog chasing a child. Sharon darted as fast as she could, throwing tree branches in his way but the elf was to good to be stopped so easily. Sharon broke hard to the right the second she passed a large oak tree sprinting as fast as she could.

“This ends now child!” Licet spoke darkly as the area became a sickly black. Licet became a blur as he darted ahead between the trees, moving amongst the shadows. Sharon just tucked her head and broke hard left. For a brief second she thought she lost him but the elf’s blur returned and she silently prayed for help. Doing her best to remember her terrain she broke hard to the right again and with what little strength she had she ran even faster towards her goal. Licet’s laughter rang through her ears as he appeared before her, blocking the edge to the cliff. Sharon tucked her hands in and shoulder charged at Licet. If she was lucky, she would tackle the creep and use his body as a soft landing pad. If not….she just decided to be optimistic.

“You take me for a fool?” Licet whispered seductively, and as the pain train arrived it went. Sharon felt no contact. She felt a gentle but ice cold hand upon her trying to snatch her up. As her body felt lifted she exploded her limbs open extending out every inch of her body. The grip Licet had faltered and he had to let go as her body sailed off the ground. She clawed at Licet trying to grab any part of her captor in hopes of killing him with her.

Time seemed to slow down as her body free fell. Her mage coat flittering in front of her as her hand stretched all the way out. Licet’s face had a puzzled look to it, genuine curiosity covered his face. She felt her mouth open, but couldn’t hear a thing as her body free fell. Soon the edge of the cliff was a blur as she felt the wind turn her over like rolling up paper. The ground came at her much faster than she intended and now could hear her own screaming voice.

Dark, Wilfed….I love you…

The world became black.

Wilfred woke up, his face covered in sweat and his throat on fire as he tried to scream.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Matthew watched as the final mage awoke, but it seemed so surreal as the mage shot straight up attempting to scream. It was startling and creepy and it made Matthew scream as if some strange dark omen befell him. Barty danced his way into the room and laughed at Wilfred and Matthew turned to his companion and barked out at him. “What is wrong with him?” Matthew knew there was more fear in his tone than he wanted to let off, but Barty just laughed.

“Master Waltz, he is soon going to Blood Trance. Licet was a fool…he didn’t know how to dance!” And Barty began to dance again as if with someone. Matthew looked at Wilfred in silent fear. The mage held his head in his hands, bobbing back and forth sobbing.

“What do you mean dance?” Matthew drew his bastard sword. Barty just continued to dance and laughed. Matthew made a motion to swing at him with his free hand, but to his shock Barty darted underneath it and pushed him back. “Barty?” Matthew said cautiously, but Barty was in his own little world he pulled out two daggers. Matthew made an attempt to grab at Barty, but again he dodged him and jumped back.

“My lord didn’t believe me,” Barty sang out as he placed both his hands upon Wilfred’s shoulders. “Now he must pay the price.” And Barty cut himself on the hand with his dagger, dripping his blood upon Wilfred’s coat. Matthew watched in horror as the blood was shed. But to his surprise Wilfred continued to bob and weave back and forth. It was as if some internal struggle was going on in his mind. This made Barty upset after a moment.

“OH YOU STUPID MAGES! KYCOO KNEW YOU WOULD BE TROUBLE! NOW BARTY MUST DO THINGS HIMSELF!” Barty turned to Matthew. “ALL MY CAREFUL PLANNING IS NOW GONE! KYCOO WILL BE UPSET! ALL MY CUNNING AND MANIPULATION! EVEN BARTY ACTED LIKE A FOOL FOR KYCOO! I DO ALL THIS WORK FOR NOTHING! I AM A JESTER DAMMIT! I PULL JOKES ON OTHERS NOT JOKES PULLED ON ME!” Matthew was lost for words as the man he thought he knew morphed before his very eyes. Matthew gripped his sword tightly and charged at Barty, his anger growing to new heights of frustration and rage. “OH TAKE A DAMN CHILL PILL YOU BALL OF RAGE!” And Barty jumped up and extended his leg placing it upon Matthews face. With all the momentum now going the opposite way Barty forced Matthew to fall on his back, Barty’s disgusting boot smashing his nose as he landed.

Barty shoved both hands in the air and bowed low as if performing for an audience.

Matthew fought hard for control. He wouldn’t allow his training with Lord Kisada to go to waste. Grabbing Barty’s leg with his right hand he rolled to his left side pulling up on his right hand. Barty rotated as if he was going to fall but his combat reflexes were phenomenal as he landed squarely upon his feet. Matthew got up using his hands but as he pushed up from his push up position Barty was already jumping up and down on his back.

“COME ON DADDY I WANT A RIDE!” Exhaustion took its toll as Matthew hit the ground, his back racked with pain. “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT? I’M KICKING YOUR ASS AND ALL YOU CAN DO IS ACT PATHETIC?!?!?! Hmphhh,” He grunted defiantly. “Laughable.” Matthew felt his face get kicked in and could feel the blood pouring out his body. “I’d cut you to ribbons if I had the time Matthew, but I got others to deal with. Ta-Ta!” Barty mocked blowing Matthew a kiss as he left the room. Matthew dragged himself forward but felt a boot crush his hand. Matthew weakly looked up and saw Wilfred Waltz standing above him. Wilfred’s cold eyes glared down upon Matthew.

“I…” Matthew coughed up blood. Wilfred leaned down and lifted Matthews head. Matthews eyes looked deep into the golden eyes of Wilfred’s.

For the last time in his life Matthew knew true fear.

Visions of death and agony filled his mind. The screams of those being tortured made his heart beat faster. Soon he saw his own death as he saw pinning vices being attached around his own eyes, a dark servant of some darker lord screwing them closer and closer to his eyeballs. Matthew threw up in front of Wilfred, but still Wilfred forced him to look. Soon the pins were all the way through his eyes as the blood flowed down his face into his mouth. He tried to turn his head and break free but his body was strapped tightly so he could not clear his throat as the blood continued to flow. Slowly he began to choke on it, refusing to drink it. Two swords stabbed the back of his knees destroying the knee caps and caused more tears of blood to flow, his mouth trying to cough it all up so he could scream in agony and beg for it all to end.

Then Matthew saw his heart beating rapidly before him. The pulsating organ was lying within a coffin and upon a table next to it he saw a small rusty dagger. He lifted his hand and grabbed the dagger, sobbing like a baby as he stabbed it multiple times.

Wilfred released Matthew’s body, dusting himself off as the lifeless corpse of Matthew moved and begged no more.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Dark felt every inch of his body tingle with danger, but his biggest problem was currently the fat mage asking him thousands of questions. It had been going on for hours as Dark yawned in a state of boredom and argued with Rufus about spells and theories. Extracting all he could before things got ridiculously pointless he knew that Rufus was an up and coming magician. Yet Dark knew that at his age he would have crushed Rufus like a fly with all the powers he would have known. Apparently the Knights of Apocalypse didn’t train their mages well. His thoughts were interrupted for the twentieth time that day as Rufus shouted at Dark like a yipping poodle.

“DID YOU SWALLOW A DISPELL SCROLL?” Dark fought hard, doing his best to keep his mouth shut before he busted out laughing.

“What would that do besides give me a stomach ache?” Rufus was getting more and more frustrated as he began to pace.

“OUUUUU I swear I shall kill you if you don’t tell me what I want to know!” Dark sighed rolling his eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t know why your dumb spell didn’t affect Sharon. We hadn’t eaten that day and she was doing her own thing.” Rufus was beside himself as he tossed a book on the ground.

“YOU ARE LYING BLACK MAGE!” He shouted. “YOU’RE A LIAR! ALL YOU BLACK MAGES ARE LIARS!”

“AND YOU’RE FAT!” Dark really didn’t know where it came from but he was currently tied up and imprisoned, so if he couldn’t move he decided he might as well act like Sharon and be as annoying as possible.

“Tell me Black Mage,” Rufus leaned in upon him. “Is your magic stronger than mine?”

“Duh,” Dark replied. “I spent my time studying instead of dunking donuts in a glaze dip.” Rufus’ hands gripped both sides of the chair Dark sat upon and he ripped the arms out with his rage throwing them out of the circular tent. “Whoa there buddy, it’s called anger management. People in your order really need it don’t you think?” Rufus again approached Dark.

“That’s it, I challenge you to a duel.” Dark laughed again, leaning back on his chair.

“Try me all you want, but without my cane and arms being free I won’t accept. I know it sounds funny, but every now and then I just get this crazy idea that I need to be able to move in a duel.” Rufus’s arms stretched out like two small hams and his pudgy fingers began to choke the life out of Dark.

“YOU FILTHY, TAINTED, LYING, DILLOUSIONAL,” But as the words came out a hand grabbed Rufus by the throat and tossed him back easily. To Dark’s surprise it was the Lithe man named Barty.

“Yes, yes Rufus, we all know what you are, but the mages must not be harmed for Kycoo. He wants this one and the oldest one still breathing.” Dark checked the expression on Rufus’ face just to make sure he wasn’t the only one confused. To his shock, he wasn’t as Rufus looked at his comrade in confusion.

“You mean the master homunculi Kycoo? As in the Hex Mage Kycoo?” Barty turned and smiled a large chessy grin.

“VERY GOOD!” He produced a small candy treat. “Have a treat you good dog!” He tossed the candy to Rufus, but he swatted it away with his wand. “What is this?” He said full of mock shock. “Are you fasting?” Rufus lifted his wand arm up and looked at his assailer carefully.

“If you are a puppet of a Hex Mage than you must have been acting this entire time.” Barty nodded, over extending the action as he laughed pointing at his foe.

“This entire time Rufus I have been created since birth to do one simple job. Infiltrate your order and wait for signs of the project! And should I find news of such things, I was to test the project out. Turns out the project is busted but with Kycoo running the show the instruments of death can be re-sharpened to take out the world in a glorious symphony of death and destruction!” Rufus looked towards Dark and suddenly his eyes filled with bewilderment.

“So you three were the demon project…The ones created for the traitor general war in Lavinya! If that is true than I must,” But Barty cut him off.

“You will do nothing Rufus, cause I plan to kill you all! Licet is off pretending some potent artifact will make him more powerful than he imagined, but what that Drow doesn’t realize is that he was a distraction to create dissension in the ranks with that glory hound Matthew, you were just a simple by product and manipulating your pride Rufus I charmed Sharon so she would awake from your spell when I felt like it. With Matthew being a magic paranoid freak he would blame you making you worry more about your worthless hide than anybody else’s. With everybody having a private agenda it was easier to move unseen! I danced my merry way around you all and now I get to lead this show!” Drawing up three daggers in his hand he tossed one into his mouth and through the other two at his foe. Rufus quickly jumped back as a dagger hit the place where he stood, the other missing entirely. Rufus quickly took the next move casting a spell upon himself. Soon to Dark’s amazement Rufus’ speed seemed to increase.

“Casting spells to enhance you will not bring you to the level that I am at!” A small strip of fire erupted from Rufus’ wand but bounced off Barty harmlessly as he laughed. “Rufus, I am a construct of the highest caliber! Kycoo himself forged me in the same anti-magical steel he forged the Juggernaut with; the flesh of a thousand magi covers my skin. Except for a select few magi, which you are not one of, I am impervious to the weak! “ Another spell hit Barty but it only showed to prove his point. Dark was terrified and impressed. The amount of alchemy and magic involved in that level of creation was astronomical and it made Dark wonder who this Kycoo guy was and what he was all about.

Barty danced his way over to Rufus, he used every charm, spell, and enchantment he could think of. But soon Barty grabbed his wand hand and snapped it. With another simple motion he dislocated the shoulder joint ending any chance for that side of his body from being useful. Screaming in pain Rufus tried his best to fight back using his other arm to swing wildly at Barty as he tried o back away. Dark had to admire the fat guy in that respect, in fact he admired the order he herald from for it was them who taught Vlad and Rufus to fight beyond pain.

Yet despite Rufus’ training he was clearly no match for Barty. The lithe warrior took the wand arm snatching up the wand it held and then pulling the overweight mage towards him as if he was tangoing with him. After spinning Rufus to his knees he took the wand, twirled it in his hand up to his lips kissing it, and then without warning stabbed the wand through Rufus’ neck, blood spurting everywhere. Releasing the body and watching it fall Dark knew he was now the only man left alive in the room. Barty turned to him with a sinister grin.

“Pray Black Mage….see if the gods will answer a puppet like yourself!”

[The Black Waltz Project]

Wilfred stalked the small campsite that had imprisoned his family. Not sure how or why he felt sick to his stomach after the dream he had of his sister. She was running away from some dark creature and then there was blackness. He couldn’t piece it all together but as the slow realization that his sister Sharon was in danger he knew the least he could do at this point was find her. The forest was thick with foliage and tree stumps as he walked, looking for some small signs of where his sister went. Yet as he traveled down the road he couldn’t find any trace of her. Frustration filled his mind as he tried his best to calm his nerves. He gently placed a hand to the ground to steady his heart that was racing wildly. A thousand thoughts entered his mind as he tried his best to sort them all out.

Let her be dead, Wilfred…let her go… Wilfred shook his head in defiance. It is not weakness to mourn her, Wilfred…she would not want you to torment her… Again Wilfred shook his head. You still believe her to be alive? Than find her! Go to her and find her! If she breathes than you must help her! Wilfred nodded getting up. The forest is your guide…listen as she did… Wilfred closed his eyes as he waited for some sign.

After a moment he looked down at his feet and nearly back pedaled in surprise. A solitary Black rose lay at his feet, and not more than a few yards away lay a solitary red rose. Scooping them up and moving forward he noticed a particularly odd colored twig, a gray and weathered looking stack of them that seemed to stretch towards the east near the cliffs. He gathered them up in his arms and began to frantically search for more of them. As he approached the cliff he soon saw the footsteps, heavy imprints in the dirt as if somebody was running. He started to feel nauseous as he tracked them all the way to edge of the cliff where a patch of dirt looked kicked up. Taking a deep breath Wilfred looked over the side of the cliff.

Beyond a doubt he saw the frail and broken body of his sister Sharon. A lifeless pale look upon her face, crimson liquid already spilt from her fall splattered all over the ground. Wilfred fell to his knees in rage as he pounded the ground, grunting noises being all he could produce from his quivering body. Wilfred dropped the twigs and roses down the cliff, not watching the wind gently drop them to the ground near her head. Wilfred felt the tears fall from his face as they hit the ground. Emotions stirred in him as he remembered hugging her the previous day, playing with her as a child, and thinking of the last time he physically said the words he loved her. He gripped the dirt in his hands as he sniffed the air. The wind lifted up and directly into his nostrils as the scent of blood filled his senses. His golden eyes turned slightly red as his anger reached a climax of pique perfection. Slowly getting up he turned back towards the camp and took a few steps towards his new destination.

I WILL SUNDER THEIR SOULS IN THE FIERY HELL FORGE AND CAUSE EVERY LAST MOMENT OF LIFE TO BE AN AGONIZING LESSON IN THE VIRTUE OF PERFECTED DEATH! I SHALL TAKE GREAT JOY IN WATCHING THEIR BODIES QUIVER IN FEAR AND TORMENT AS THE PUPPET OF DEATH BECOMES THE MASTER PULLING THE STRINGS! THIS OUTRAGE WILL BE ANSWERED FOR AND THEY WILL REPAY THE DEBT THEY OWE ME WITH THEIR TEARS OF BLOOD AS I TAKE EVERY LAST THING FROM THEM! Wilfred stalked back towards the camp as the clouds began to grow dark and gray overhead. Thunder began to roll in the hills with each step Wilfred took.

In the valley below birds began to play with the twigs.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Dark was now officially freaking out. He couldn’t understand what the hell was going on anymore and his body ached in pain as Barty dragged him out of the camp. Trying his best to rationalize the situation only made it seem that much worse for all he knew was that Barty wanted him and Wilfred. He hadn’t even begun to wonder what happened to his sister Sharon and wanted answers. As if his mind was being read he heard Barty speak, releasing his grip on Dark and frantically grabbing at his head.

“OI! You stupid magi are more trouble than I care to deal with right now! Kycoo will be so displeased. No matter…the taller one must come back to get you eventually. I shall be patient and you shall be quiet.” Barty said turning to Dark and rolling him onto his stomach with his foot. Barty immediately drew up four daggers, two in each hand, and called out. “HALT, who comes hither nearer to the insane asylum?”

“You fool it’s me Licet. Where is Matthew I need to report an….what the hell has happened here? It ranks of blood and looks like a…” Barty started to chuckle as Licet took more into the scene. Dark rolled onto his back and could see the elf looking at Rufus.

“I know not what happened but the taller one got away. He will be back however, we must be ready, we must.” Barty began to dance towards Licet but the elf rose a hand motioning the creep away.

“Disgusting vermin, leave me be. Is Matthew dead as well?” Licet asked in a barking fashion. Barty nodded. “Great, that makes three deaths.” Barty dropped two daggers staring at them stupidly, looking at his hands.

“But I count only two my lord.” Barty said sheepishly. Licet sighed running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Ya well the girl ran off a cliff and died.” Licet replied angrily. Dark suddenly felt empty inside as he tried quickly to process what he just heard. Licet just continued on as if this news mattered little to him. “And whatever secrets she had went to the grave with her. No matter however, we will just gather the brothers and leave.” Barty shook his head disappointedly, grabbing his daggers from the ground.

“Tsk Tsk my lord,” Barty began to dance again. “It appears you don’t know how to dance with death to well.” Licet gave a quizzical look at Barty, the same look Rufus gave Barty, and Dark would bet all the gold in the world it was the same look of confusion that Matthew had before Barty betrayed him. With no warning at all Barty through all four daggers at Licet with amazing force aiming at the Elf’s head, but Licet countered cat like reflexes dropping to the ground and pouncing forward, tackling Barty and rolling with him.

“YOU GUYS ARE NUTS!” Dark screamed as he fought with his ropes trying his best to escape.

“STUPID DROW, GIVE UP!” Barty shouted in frustration as he broke free punching Licet in the kidney and kicking him to the ground. Licet used the momentum and rolled to the ground back onto his feet in a ready position as the two stood off. Licet kicked his left foot up and touched it with his right shuffling back and forth motioning for Barty to come. Barty laughed twirling backwards with arms stretched out like a bird and turned back on Licet bowing low in a charge, daggers held in both his hands, one dagger held in his mouth.

Meanwhile Dark was half way out of his ropes silently hoping the battle would take a long time and neither would notice Dark trying to escape.

“Filthy creature!”

“Stupid dark elf!” The insults flew in the air like two kids fighting in a school yard as they tussled back and forth. Dark felt his hands against something sharp and realized one of Barty’s daggers was near him. He felt the hilt in his fingers and slowly inched his hand up until he could use it to cut the ropes. His wrists hurt as he cut but after a few minutes of cutting the ropes were loose enough to throw off. Proud of his cunning he stood up in triumph.

“Score one for the Waltz’s!” He whispered to himself as he got ready to run. Yet as he took his first step his body felt racked with pain as Licet crashed into him. Both tumbled towards the doused out fire rolling on top of each other. Licet cursed in Drowish as he got up quickly, charging back into the fight. Dark took a moment to regain his thoughts, sure he broke something at least twice in the same fall. He slowly looked up at the fight and was impressed to see Barty in action. The inquisitive and curious mind of Dark was amazed by alchemy, and to watch the construct known as Barty fight was quite impressive.

“What the hell am I doing? I gotta get the hell out of here!” Dark realized getting up as he got ready to run again. Yet as he stepped up his ribs yanked him back into the ground as he breathed heavily for air. Now he had no choice but to watch the fight.

Licet kicked up into Barty’s face, but the golem was to fast as he blocked it with his fists. Allowing the momentum to shift in Licet’s body Barty did a hammer blow, placing wrist upon wrist and leaving both palms open as he slammed them into the Elf’s stomach causing him to fall backwards and bounce a few feet.

“What is with you?” Licet cursed as he wiped the spit from his face. Dark did not know the reason he thought this, but he shouted out the answer.

“He’s a construct! A very powerful alchemist created him!” Licet took only a brief moment to look at Dark as he rolled back, avoiding the hammer punch that Barty swung downwards. The impact of Barty’s fist hitting the ground shattered the earth and sent cracks all around the impact area.

“Who created him?” Licet asked kicking Barty in the face with a well timed back flip. Barty took the blow but remained on his feet, a demonic grin upon his face. Dark racked his brain trying to remember the name.

“Some guy named Kycoo!” Licet froze starring at the golem. Barty laughed maniacally as he looked at the elf.

“Don’t you get it Licet? The greatest humonculus in the entire world created me! No amount of harm will stop me from simply crushing you. You are as weak as Matthew and Rufus. Seeking power in the form of forgotten ‘toys’ and rare pieces of ‘garbage’. I studied you Licet, I know you are a glory hound as much as Matthew, and if I placed the seeds of doubt in this group you would all break. You are weak Licet, because you are jealous that Matthew would share the glory of returning the Waltz’s to the council and you wouldn’t. Hell I bet you knew Matthew was just going to take all the credit! A small insignificant shadow is what you are you filthy fleshbag!” Licet’s fists turned to two small balls as he grinded his teeth at the comment.

“What are you saying about me?” He asked in a seething tone. Barty laughed as he pointed at the Drow.

“You are always overlooked Licet, and nobody thinks your worth a second of attention. And I frankly agree. You are nothing to me. A damned annoying fly that eventually I will squash! Your power means nothing to me, and your skills are as laughable as a bad dramatic comedy! Give in to me and stop this foolish game of cat and mouse. I am done playing with you now for I have work to do!” Licet’s rage now boiled over, and Dark could see a fire inside him that he never knew existed in any one creature.

“Don’t you dare UNDERESTIMATE ME!” Licet bellowed slapping his hands together. The ground erupted as a large rocky prison formed around Barty. The golem was non-phased however as he yawned pushing on the rocks making it unable to entrap him. Yet Dark could see the real plan in motion from far away. Licet was very much indeed a man of great power, and Barty was a fool to underestimate him.

Vines snaked out of the forest and slowly crept up on the construct as he laughed shouting insults at Licet, unaware the ropes began to loosly form around him. The second he became aware they all constricted around him closing in on his face and arms.

“What is this?!” Barty said in anger. The rocks, no longer being held back, began to enclose upon Barty before soon he was locked in that prison. As Dark looked at Licet he saw his eyes flaming with green energy, and he turned back his attention to the rock that was now sinking into the ground before it was soon buried beneath the ground. Barty’s voice could be heard screaming all the way down until the ground sealed itself muffling and then eventually drowning out the noise.

Licet turned to Dark with a sick look upon his face as he silently made his way over, but as he grew closer the elf’s attention drifted to behind Dark. Taking a deep breath he looked behind him with his eyes closed in pain. He slowly opened them and saw his brother Wilfred glaring at Licet with red tinted eyes full of pure hatred. It was obvious Wilfred was in a blood trance and he turned back to see Licet slowly beginning to laugh.

“She deserved her fate…” Licet whispered spitefully. “She doubted my power the same as the fool I just killed.” Wilfred stepped forward, his mage coat flittering behind him, occasionally whipping Dark in the face.

The two stood off in an eerie stand still, their minds both fueled by hate for different reasons. One man was fueled by revenge for the death of a loved one, the other motivated by the hatred of being underestimated time and time again. The two glared at each other, red eyes locked upon green.

As the winds picked up the duel began.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Dark was stunned for words or actions. Wilfred and the drow elf Licet were both standing before each other in pure hatred for reasons beyond Dark. Wilfred’s face was unlike Dark had ever seen before, a determination to right a wrong was the only thing he could discern from the look on Wilfred’s barely seeable face. Then again, Licet did say something of a strange nature. He could only imagine what the two warriors were thinking at this point.

~*~*~

Wilfred looked at the elf with cold ice running through his veins. He was sure beyond a doubt this was the man who killed his little sister and this was the man who was to answer for it. He cared not for the reasons why the elf was so angry, it was trivial at this point. He was sure Licet felt the same way. All that mattered now was proving to other who was better.

Licet made the first move, rushing forwards at Wilfred in a wave of speed inhumanly possible. Wilfred stood his ground placing a hand up and concentrating before him. As Licet came closer a strike of lightening struck just before Wilfred forcing the drow to back off or be hit and paralyzed by the strike.

Wilfred took the next turn bringing his hand back and throwing it forward, a ball of lightening being sent forth. Licet watched as the sphere grew into a horizontal line and he dropped to the ground to avoid it. Wilfred used this move to set up Licet just where he wanted him, placing both hands forward and raising them up. A blob began to form above Licet and after it grew to the size of a large rock it dropped to the ground. Licet however figured a spell would be coming, using the earth to create a shell around him. The Poison spell ended up just splashing everywhere giving Licet the next crucial move.

The elf took no time to dart out from his shell as he charged forward like a rapid wolf knocking his whole body into the black mage sending Wilfred flying backwards onto the ground. Quickly regaining his composure Wilfred slammed both hands upon the ground creating a small pond of water around him that rose like a shield. The vines tried in vain to penetrate the water as Wilfred was standing again, jumping out of the water and placing his left hand upon it and then passing the water through his hands at Licet like rope. The water sprayed into the Elf and Wilfred continued the onslaught throwing another orb of lightening. Licet realized the spell combination and placed both hands forward. The wave of energy passed by him, creating a void where the mage stood.

“We are going to have to do better than this, mage!” Licet said beginning to shuffle in place as he picked up a leaf from the ground. Blowing on it towards Wilfred thousands of tiny razor like leaves flew past Licet. Wilfred blocked his face as the leaves pushed him back, cutting him spots as it dug through his coat. When he dropped his hands Licet was already delivering a hay maker hitting Wilfred in the face. Wilfred kept his ground spinning back facing the drow only to be hit again. Wilfred took four more blows as he began to walk around punch drunk. Licet placed his hand on the ground, picking up a handful of dirt in his left hand. Focusing his energy the dirt hardened into a rock around his fist and Licet turned to finish off Wilfred.

Wilfred was still groggy as he watched the stone fist coming at him, but he quickly turned this what seemed to be weakness against his foe, countering with a punch of his own, except Wilfred’s fist was covered in ice. The two fists connected shattering upon impact, the shards of ice momentarily blinding Licet, the chunks of stone forcing Wilfred to back off. Wilfred had the small advantage as he focused his energy around the elf’s face, a sphere of darkness clouding his vision. With Licet effectively blinded Wilfred knocked him down body checking him to the ground. He took in a deep breath and then lifted both hands again, an icy prison starting to form around Licet. The elf however could easily feel the cold and made a rock prison around himself to shield him from being enclosed. When Licet was good and ready he lowered his shield and glared at his opponent.

“You are not supposed to be this powerful, mage!” Licet was beside himself with anger. He should have been more than a match for all three of the stupid Black mages, but instead they proved to be a thorn in his side. He vowed to change this situation and to do so immediately.

Wilfred was getting tired, but he still had plenty of tricks up his sleeve as he waited for Licet to make his next move. He vowed to avenge Sharon for her death, and he was the oldest brother. He had to keep his promise.

As the two charged at each other again thunder rolled deep in the hills.

[The Black Waltz Project]

The birds gathered up dozens of twigs and leaves, flying throughout the forest at top speed as they snatched up the wood in their talons before dropping it off the cliff. There a squirrel was attentively watching, scrunching up the twigs and fashioning them together in a large circle. Another squirrel placed upon the wreath the Black and the Red rose, giving shape and definition to the bundle. As the birds returned they dropped off more twigs and leaves for the squirrels to use. Taking only the most greenest of leaves the squirrels wrought them into the combination until at long last, an owl hooted signaling the job was done. The squirrels dragged their creation up the hill a little ways until the reached a small looking rock. Placing it upon the crown of this smooth surface they ran off, content with their job.

~*~*~*~

Wilfred and Licet charged at each other like two gladiators, a warhammer made from the earth in the drow’s hand, a sword made of ice in the mages. The two smashed their weapons into each other, the sword piercing into Licet’s upper thigh, and the hammer cracking into Wilfred’s chest. Both men fell to the ground, Wilfred unable to breath easily as Licet screamed in pain. Licet dragged his body back as Wilfred hunched back to his feet, heaving loudly.

Wilfred looked at Licet and saw an opportunity, taking both his hands and placing them outstretched to the side he began to think upon his spell.

Licet used every last bit of strength he had to stand as he focused his hatred upon this final earth shattering spell. Leaves began to swirl around him as the earth began to tremble.

Wilfred’s right hand began to glow as fire erupted in it, swirling up and down his arm as the flames grew in size. His left hand began to have a wispy form to it as wind seemed to be sucked into his hand and swirling up his arm. Both men glared at each other as they waited to see who made the first move.

~*~*~

The light returned to the groggy vision as the sun slowly focused into shape. Body racking with pain as it got up rising. Taking a look around at the ground the body felt very woozy, as it patiently waited for the soul to arrive like a cat waiting on a windowsill.

~*~*~

“NOW WE END THIS!” Licet shouted in fury as he released his tornado of razor sharp leaves and jagged rocks. Wilfred placed both hands before him as the strip of flame twirled with the fire creating a raging inferno that when combined with the twister created a pillar flame. Licet, being so close to the twister was feeling his body begin to burn away. Raising a rocky prison around himself he shot his tornado forward. Wilfred, in return stood still, allowing the flames to pass over him. Licet was in shock to see the mage’s clothes burning all around him, but his soul remained untouched. He could now clearly see what Wilfred looked like under his coat and hat. Sharp facial features locked in a glaring icy state, his hair narrowed and spiked up in neat rows. His eyes were burning red as the fire that engulfed him but Licet then realized why he did not burn. His blood was full of ice for revenge, his cold furious face only blackened his heart. Licet realized then and there that his fate was sealed.

The second the thought crossed Licet’s mind he felt a cold presence behind him. He turned to see the grim reaper, dressed in the darkest black, a mirror being held before him. Licet looked at the mirror and saw his own body, slowly burning away. He opened his mouth to scream but could produce no sound. His eyes began to swell with tears but instead blood poured out. He grabbed at his face, but saw only skeletal digits touching it. He freaked out trying to get away, but the rocky prison he used as sanctuary closed even tighter, slowly shrinking as the inferno now crossed to the inside. The prison became his tomb as Licet burned and perished, his soul taken by the grim reaper.

Wilfred nodded once in satisfaction, before falling to the ground exhausted and no longer able to control his body.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Dark was lost for words as he slowly crawled to his brother Wilfred. Somehow, someway, Wilfred kept at bay, countered, transported, and cast a spell all at once to defeat Licet the drowish elf. It was amazing to witness, but he was more impressed how Wilfred fought with so much determination. The skies returned to a normal color as the duel ended, but the battle was far from over. Small cracks began to form in the ground and it suddenly dawned on Dark just what those cracks were. After repeated tremors shook the earth the cracks erupted as a fist pounded out of the dirt. Barty slowly clawed his way out of the ground, like the dead raising from the ground, his face full of hatred as he released himself from his grave. Dark shook his head in disbelief.

“No, no no!” Dark whispered. With Wilfred exhausted and out of the known fight, and Sharon missing Dark had no chance against the construct golem of Kycoo.

“That is it little mage!” Barty seethed through his teeth. “I have had it with you and your family. Kycoo wants you, and wants you NOW!” Barty took calculated steps toward Dark, who feebly tried to throw a sickle of ice at his assailant. Barty allowed the attack to hit him, non-phased as it stuck through his left pectoral out his back as he continued to march closer. “Now you are mine!” He said seductively reaching a hand to grab Dark by the throat. Dark closed his eyes as he waited for the end, but to his shock it never arrived. He felt heat over his right shoulder and a pitiful grunt from Barty. He opened his eyes to see a very wide strip of flame blast Barty into the same rock that was Licet’s tomb. Dark turned to see his sister Sharon, a flaming wreath adorning her head like some sort of crown. Her entire body was engulfed in flame as she casually walked forward.

“My family has suffered enough for one life time, you monster.” Sharon said calmly. “I don’t think I will allow you to continue any further.” Barty grew upset as he charged forward at Sharon, but to Dark’s surprise she screamed in rage as the flames around her body flew forward along the ground blasting into Barty sending him reeling into the air before bouncing on the ground. She steadily placed her left hand up horizontally plam down and swiped it upon the ground. The entire area around Barty grew into flames as he shouted in pain, the flames licking away his flesh. He again got up and charged, but she gently placed her right hand up, palm facing out as another inferno sized strip of flame blasted him back into the pit of flames. She began to swirl both hands as the inferno turned into a pillar the heat was so strong even Dark was feeling ready to pass out. Barty screamed in agony.

“KYCOO PROTECT ME!” Barty screamed in fear. The flames took Barty on; slowly engulfing him until soon he was being incinerated. After a few moments Sharon released her hands, and all that remained of the golem was a pile of ashes.

Dark watched his sister Sharon as she walked up to him, the fires all gone and the crown no longer alive with flames. He had to ask.

“What is that you are wearing?” Sharon touched Wilfred gently as she spoke, slowly rubbing Wilfred back into reality.

“This is the Crown of Ashes. It’s a rare artifact of incredible power. When created it has the ability to raise somebody from the dead similar to a phoenix. It also dramatically increases ones ability in the arts of fire. I don’t know how I know this, but I think our mom was the last to wear it.” Dark just decided the best idea was to smile stupidly as if it all made sense. Wilfred slowly woke up, looking around. His eyes were no longer red with rage, but back to its gentle golden state. Before long he looked to Sharon, and immediately he jumped upon her, hugging his sister tightly, tears streaming down both their faces. No words between the two need to be said, it was obvious he was happy to see her alive and cared not for the reasons she was. After a moment of gathering, they all got up and left the camp.

[The Black Waltz Project]

Wilfred had a headache. It hurt him so much from all the crying, being in fights, and concentration he needed in that last duel. But he was happy as he watched his brother and sister eating at the restaurant table. They were safe now, and had been for three days as they patiently awaited their next move.

Dark had managed to regurgitate all he witnessed to them, and it appeared now another person wanted the Waltz’s hide. With two very powerful organizations chasing him down he realized more than ever they now had to be careful.

Wilfred’s thoughts were interrupted by Sharon, who had thrown her food at Dark, who in return threw his back. Wilfred sighed, smiling from ear to ear as he stopped them, Sharon’s Crown of Ashes getting tilted. Wilfred gently fixed it and then ruffled both their heads as he returned to his meal.

Despite what evils awaited, Wilfred stood ready to take on the tides of time if needed be.

But for now, he enjoyed the moment he had with his family and prayed for it to last as long as possible.

That’s all he could ask for, and that’s all he wanted.





(Spoils: Sharon Waltz wishes to receive the Crown of Ashes!

Crown of Ashes: A powerful artifact from long ago forged by the bonds of pyromancers and alchemists the twigs and the roses represent the undying heart of a phoenix. Black to represent the death, and the red to represent life . When created and placed upon the freshly dead, they will raise back into life, more powerful when they left just as the phoenix does.

In game terms, Sharon Waltz's Fira has been upgraded to Firaga.
The charge has been wasted to raise the dead, and will not work until Sharon dies again.

[AdventWings]

Phew! Sorry for the long wait! Either way, since you've been waiting for so long, I gave you a fairly thorough analysis of your writing. ^_^

Story

Continuity - 6
I could not really place when or where this was happenning and why, but the overall story did have a definite direction and you took your time to play it out.

Setting - 6
You were quite vivid and descriptive with your surrounding and how it affected the characters. At times, they served very effectively to build the atmosphere. Other times, such as the tend scene, it was just a bit too descriptive than necessary.

Pacing - 6
The progress of the story-telling was fair for the most parts, but interjection of long narrative exposition was quite upsetting to the otherwise fluid story-telling.

Writing Style

Mechanics - 4
After reading through the story several times, I have come to realize you have a tendency to misspell certain words such as "than" instead of "then" and using incorrect prefixes in your narration. Please check your dictionary if you are uncertain of some words and the common prefixes they are accompanied with. Also, in your first sentence you used sentences beginning with "the" back to back and that was a bit of an irksome experience. Don't be afraid to mix around with your sentence structure and avoid repetition wherever you can. It can work as a part of literary technique, so that's a subject you might consider looking into.

Technique - 6
There was not much technique in the story-telling sense but the use of atmospheric condition to build up suspense was very intriguing. The injection of history and background into the narration was a bit of a mood-killer and might work better if it is more appropriately placed than lumped together in one paragraph. Try to spread them out a bit, although the exact details is up to you to find out.

Clarity - 5
There were parts where some pieces of the narration did not make much sense, such as the little boy in the forest. By my interpretation, that was one of the forest nymphs who were helping Sharon construct the Crown of Ashes.

Character

Dialogue - 6
The dialogue was lively and well-done, but Barty's later monologue about his origins with Rufus was a bit long-winded. The other characters were played out well, especially the NPCs. The main characters, however, were upstaged because of their rather relatively lackluster lines.

Action - 6
Much of the action portrayed here revolved around fighting with various magic and physical combat disciplines. The center stage performers being Wilfred, Barty, Licet and lastly Sharon. Barty was particularly entertaining and the most believable because of his rather lively antics. As for the rest, it is apparent you have come the right way. However, at times the main characters are far too rigid and straight-forward.

Persona - 7
The differente personalities here did very well to foil and complement each other well, from Wilfred's passive front contrasting his blood trance rage and Barty's radical change of identity. While throughout the story the many characters portrayed vivid and intense emotional impressions, Dark still retained his rather passive and ambiguous personality, which is a foil to all the rest of the explosive personalities elsewhere.

Miscellaneous

Wild Card - 6
An interesting story and also an interesting cast of characters. The story-telling needs some more refining, but you are heading the right way. Don't give up!

FINAL SCORE – 58!

((Rewards + Spoils))

The Black Waltz receives 1,700 EXP.
I have considered giving you the Crown of Ashes but it seems to be fairly powerful in its own rights. This artifact, in game terms, grants Auto-Raise as well as an upgrade to Firaga to Sharon. That is perhaps a bit too powerful. I will need to have you talk this over with the Realm of Greetings Moderator to have it approved or otherwise modify it to appropriate levels. You could instead have Sharon earn the ability to create the Crown of Ashes provided the components are present. The condition would be that the Crown wilts after a certain period of time has passed and takes a certain amount of time to construct it as it had in this quest.

Either way, I look forward to your next installment of the Black Waltz Saga!

[Letho]

EXP added.