Fantasy Realm of Conflict | Part One: The Age of Shadows

[Satanic Nightjar]

Ravenpaw

 

[Satanic Nightjar]

PART ONE: Age of Shadows
Character in use: Icarus Fletcher | Side Characters: Members of Shadow Brilliance | Location: Freakshow performance | Interactions: Soul | Mentions: Soul​

It was a chilly evening, the hint of moisture in the air suggesting an oncoming rainstorm. Five mysterious men approached the massive stadium, their hoods low to conceal their identities. Their journey had been long and treacherous, but now upon their arrival not a single one of them questioned the necessity of their extensive travelling. Tonight would announce the beginning of a new era, clearing the once vague borders between the conflicting sides. Tonight, there were only two options - join the Shadow Brilliance in their question to ultimately rule the empire, or pray that you have worthy alliances.

The leader raised a fist, gesturing to spread out. Slipping inside the building as naturally and inconspicuously as possible, they stuck to the edges in an attempt not to gain unwanted attention. The blinding lights assaulted them from all angles, obviously in need of adjustment. Audience members filtered in and made their way to seats, directed by armed guards who angrily swatted at cameras that invaded their space. The competitors were being prepared, organized into a slightly chaotic but roughly single-file line, facing the main entrance to the arena. Employees and volunteers pranced around the building, searching for work to accelerate the progress of the frantic preparations. In the sea of faces, it was amusingly simple to become lost, especially if you were trained to do so. This mission would be nothing out of the ordinary - despite it's crucial importance, there was no additional challenge. It was easy to imagine they were back in school, being sent on routine spy missions throughout the lands.

The leader managed to maintain occasional brief eye contacts with his companions as he was sent to an unoccupied seat relatively near the front. Hand habitually fingering the dagger concealed beneath his cloak, he scanned the area, searching for any obvious signs of a trap. An easily avoidable ambush was the last thing that they needed on this night, and it was critical that nothing went wrong. The fate of their world was balanced on the tip of a knife, and it was vital for it to tilt in the favor of the Shadow Brilliance, lest the empire fall yet again into darkness. Mistakes so serious as those were infrequent and mustn't be repeated.

Absentmindedly, he began to caress the edge of the blade, considering the different ways in which tonight could go down. Extremely improbable that everything would go precisely according to plan, although anything was possible. No, more likely was that something or someone would interfere. The only question was when, and how it was to be prevented. With a long sigh, he relaxed back into the chair, remaining vigilant in the case of a threat suddenly arising. There was no point in concerning himself over the details right now when absolutely nothing could be done. The plan was in place, agreed upon unanimously by the Council, and far beyond his control now.

(~~+++~~)
​

Icarus Fletcher emerged from just beyond the horizon, a worn bag of necessary supplies slung carelessly over one shoulder and his messy hair concealed from view by a dark hood. His pace was fast considering how long he'd had to maintain it, but walking was the only means of transportation available to him at the moment. The sun was disappearing rapidly, and he didn't want to be caught in the dark. The Freakshow wasn't particularly far from here, but in the suffocating darkness of the night, getting lost was far too easy. He knew this from experience.

Silently slipping through the primary entrance of the stadium, he allowed himself be directed to a seat near the front, next to a middle-aged man who appeared to be equally mysterious as he himself. Forcing an indifferent expression onto his face (even though he was wearing a hood that covered it), he leaned back and paid no attention to the outside world, hoping it would grant him the same mercy. Since the day he was born, precisely twenty seven years and one hundred forty-seven days ago, he'd been on the run, escaping arrests and death sentences from various captors. Cursed with the mark of a demon's child, he would never be able to reveal his face without facing severe consequences.

But now was not the time for self-pity. He'd come to enjoy the show, to allow himself to be fully absorbed in the mindless violence, and that he would.

 

[Ravenpaw]

Soul


Soul straightened his collar and looked into the mirror. He smiled. He liked having a TV show of his very own. Although it was all about killing people, he loved it. Besides, killing people was how things got done in this world. As he prepared himself to walk on stage in front of thousands of people, he thought about the rumors of a group called the Shadow Brilliance, one that didn't believe in violence. He laughed about that thought. I mean, how could someone be that stupid? Soul had no idea, but decided he'd definitely stick to his own beliefs.

He pranced forwards, and peeked through the curtains. The seats hadn't completely filled up yet, and he had been told it would definitely be a busy night. So he retreated and looked at his watch impatiently. Five minutes until the time of the show. He studied his boring surroundings and sighed. A bunch of old empty boxes, chipped off paint, a big trash can, and a shelf full of tools, measuring tapes, and other random junk. Would these despicable five minutes of waiting time ever come to an end?

Three minutes. Soul groaned. He was always impatient when it came to things like this. Always. He twiddled his thumbs in a very counterproductive fashion. He hated waiting. Thought every bit of it was horrible. But unfortunately for him, it was something he had to do quite often. I mean, everyone in life had to wait pretty often. Souls eyes darted to a clock on the wall and he smiled a thin, careless smile, the one he was born with. The one that gave away Soul's inner mercilessness, ruthless personality.

Soul got up and walked on stage, smiling the same cruel smile as before. He was met by a round of extremely loud applause and cheering that he had somehow learned to ignore. Soul squinted his eyes because of the unforgiving camera flashes that he was greeted with. But he forced the smile to stay there despite the chaos, and put up a hand to silence the excited crowd. Scanning the sea of faces, he realized that he recognized most of them. He guessed he had memorized them from hosting this show so many times before.

 

[Satanic Nightjar]

Icarus Fletcher
Side Characters: Members of Shadow Brilliance | Location: Freakshow performance | Interactions: Soul | Mentions: Soul | Ravenpaw
​

The leader of the Shadow Brilliance squad noticed the young man take a seat beside him, sensing his demonic powers despite his obvious attempts to conceal his true nature. This was the threat he'd been waiting to appear had just materialized before him. On a typical day, he would've taken the time to arrest him, put him behind the bars that would restrict his great power. But today was not the day for distractions and traps - today was a day to be remembered as one of the boldest and most crucial moves ever made by their organization. Mistakes were not an option.

In a few moments time, the host, Soul, mounted the stage. His long suit was perfect and his smile was impeccable, obviously well-practiced offstage. He took a dramatic bow before standing and speaking, maintaining his broad grin. For the thousandth time, he introduced himself, told an aggressively unfunny joke. He began to bring the competitors into the arena when a deafening sound interrupted him. He was obviously accustomed to disruptions, as he never allowed the smile to be erased from his features.

As soon as the man gained Soul's attention, he raised to his feet, removing his hood to reveal the tattoos that identified him as a Brilliant. His companions mirrored his actions as he raised his fist into the air. Amplifying his voice with the power he'd gained from bargaining with a Sorcerer on the way over, he bellowed over the chaos of the crowd. "Tonight is the night you've all feared and hoped for in recent years! The end of darkness and a new beginning! Tonight is the night to prove your loyalties to us, or pray that you have strong alliances. Tonight, my friends, my family, tonight is the night to pick up your swords and join us on a mission to unite the world! Tell your friends, your families, spread the word, and deliver this message. No longer will we be oppressed by violence and forces of darkness! No longer will the Enlightened races suffer for simply existing! No longer will we be terrorized by demons we are unable to destroy with the limited power we are granted!

"For we are great. And we are one."

A massive fire erupted from the back of the room, preventing the audience from fleeing. "JOIN US," He shouted over the increasing chaos. "JOIN US, AND YOU WILL LEAVE THIS ROOM IN ONE PIECE! SPREAD OUR MESSAGE!" Fights were beginning to break out across the stadium, hand to hand combat and the sound of weapons clanging against each other. Tonight would either ignite a flame that would eventually grow into a war, or it would establish the Brilliance's control over the empire. Either way, their ultimate goal was accomplished.

{~~+++~~}
​

Icarus raised from his feet, drawing the sword that had been concealed by his cloak. A fight had broken out, weapons drawn, fists ready to fight. Many were even banding together to destroy the followers of the Shadow Brilliance, who were surrounding the cloaked men who'd caused the scene. A defensive wall had already been established. His assistance was not necessary, despite his temptation to drive the sword straight through the man's thin body. It would be gas to a flame that was already certain to burn bright. He would create a martyr, and that was far from the desired affect. Revenge was never a logical option. Dangerous. This wasn't to say he was giving up on it, no, no. He'd just wait until the right moment.

Silently climbing the stairs onto the stage where Soul had stood a moment before, he searched for any sign of a back door.

 

[Ravenpaw]

Soul started to call out the name of the first victim, but he was shocked when a group of slender, hooded men announced their identity and demands. He quickly slipped backstage. It was clear that these men were not on his side. Soul knocked down about twenty empty boxes that were covered in mold so he could escape through the stage door. He saw the shadow of the leader of the group in front of the curtains, probably on a mission to murder him. Soul had to act fast. So he scrambled out the back door and into the dark, cold winter night.

Soul watched from a distance and heard gunfire. He decided to go back. This time he went through the front door, and watched the violence and chaos unwind before him. He saw that the leader of the group had retreated from the stage, so he slipped back on, held up his hand and yelled,
"People, people! Why aren't you focusing on trying to catch the members of the Shadow Brilliance? Violence is okay, but these guys are about to escape unpunished! Have some sense!" Some of the fighting stopped, but not all. Soul groaned.
"I guess I'll have to do this myself, then!"

Soul ran up to the guards who were still trying to stop the fights.
"Forget about stopping it! Join it! Destroy this threat!" he yelled."Find the group of Shadow Brilliance members! They must be eliminated!" the guards nodded and spread out, helping the fight the best they could. Two people in the group were already down from the fight. Soul borrowed a gun from one of the guards and knelt. Then he aimed at the leader and shot.

Soul missed. He missed by very much, in fact. He sighed. He had never been anything near a master gunman. Really, Soul had never even reached mediocre. He shot a few more times, but again, he failed. Soul muttered several curse words under his breath.
Why can I not do a darn thing right? He thought. Of course, he did do things right very frequently, but everyone always thinks of their work as inferior to how it actually is.