Omega-3
Get your Omega 3 Fatty Acids, kiddos.
HEART OF A WARRIOR: BONDS OF THE SOUL
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*CLACK*
*CLINK*
*CLANK*
The sound of the rails slamming beneath the thunderous wheels fills your ears as you stand out on the deck. The comfort of the technological giant that is New Arkon City fades behind the rolling hills, your shifting your attention to the land ahead. Vast fields of billowing green grass zoom by beside you, groups of small animals startled by the train leap away and scurry off in a panic. You lean to the side, holding your arm out over the rail as a swarm of huge, glowing butterflies begin to fly alongside the huge transport. Their wings tickle your hand as they flap quickly, wisps of blue essence fluttering off into the wind. As the insects advance forward they're suddenly driven away as they near the huge pillar of thick, black smoke that pours from the front of the train. Thinking to yourself, you let out a sigh, leaning against the metal railing. What had driven you out here? New Arkon was the most ideal place to be living, the advanced comforts of modern technology available at your beck and call. Elegant buildings and structures made for a gorgeous skyline. A captivating display of light illuminated the city at night, bringing even those who retired to their sheets early to look outside, if even just for a moment. Even with such incentive to remain where you were, you couldn't help but feel bad. Everybody knew of the situation out in the Furtherlands. It was so much easier to turn a blind eye to the desperate pleas for reinforcement, so much easier to isolate yourself from the outside world. The city officials had already done so, throwing their stalling excuses. Every year, the number of recruits dwindled as the allure of the future kept them away from the call to action. As these thoughts begin to cloud your mind, you start to become upset. You turn your brain back to the better parts of New Arkon. Those glowing lights, the beautiful skyline, the sleekness of it all. Suddenly, the image of your city is torn from your mind as you're jerked forwards, almost stumbling onto the floor. The train had come to a stop, resting now at a standstill as the last of the smoke escaped the stack. With a hiss, the gate on the exit platform slammed open, creaking a bit. You take in a deep breath, pulling in a big gulp of fresh air. Awkwardly, you shuffle off the train and onto the station platform. For the first time in the entire trip, you realized that there were other people on board. Some of them had been skulking around on the deck, others within the various cabins. Eventually, everybody was out on the platform. Grimacing, you cringe as a metal screech rings out. The train was leaving, and with it, your chance to turn back. You reach out as if to grab hold of the exit gate, but your fist clenches around nothing. The massive, metal monster thunders off into the distance, leaving behind that trail of ugly smoke. A cool wind blows across the platform, small, blue petals drifting lazily by. One of them lands on your shoulder, and you reach to pick it up. Doesn't look like it's from any flower you've seen before. Looking around, you take note of the people beside you, some of which you recognize, others total strangers. It would seem however, that you're all here for one reason for another, most likely sharing at least one motive. As the group shifts around in an awkward silence, a ghastly creak breaks the silence, calling your focus. The door to the Reception Building springs open, and a young, rail thin, lanky person steps out from the shadows.
"This is all of them?" He mutters to himself, shuddering a bit.
They were almost 6 feet tall, with matte black hair that hung down in their face a bit. Quite pale with sunken and tired eyes, you might even think they were some kind of apparition. A tattered and faded red cloth billowed from their back in the light wind. They wore a light armor which didn't even cover their entire body, and seemed more for looks than as anything that could provide suitable protection. One thing that really stood out however, was the object the carried with them. A lance, long and thin, was gripped tightly in their left hand, glinting a bit in the afternoon sunlight. It was made from some ivory colored metal, and appeared to be well taken care of. Small wisps of white light fluttered from it occasionally, dancing around in the air for a bit before dissipating into the air. Despite the pristine look of the long weapon, it seemed somewhat worn. He slipped it slowly into a holster on his back, giving it a small and discrete pat before looking up at the group. Their piercing, light-grey eyes focused on the mob, scanning cautiously. You can't help but gulp as you feel them pass over you.
"Well then," they called out nervously.
"If you'd be so kind as to follow me then," he beckoned, motioning with their bony hand.
The man turns and retreats back into the building, leaving the group in silence. Taking one last breath, you step forward. Your day had led up to this moment, whether you were ready or not, it was here. Time to step into the fray.
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