![]() |
01-28-2013
|
3 |
don't call it a comeback
Join Date: Sep 2011
Posts: 8,268
|
**** yes, I like writing. I'm not the best at it, but I suppose FiMFiction says I was okay. Got some pretty decent ratings on fanfictions I posted there. Here's a little something I wrote a month or so ago, and have abandoned. I'm trying to pick it back up again, but as of now, my writing skill is nonexistent. Transcend The sword flourishes, as though painting with blood. “Master Lito!” An archer stumbled forward towards the fallen swordsman, vulnerable in the midst of the Noxian invasion. His own blood stained the ground, leaking from the impalement of a stray arrow. Embedded firmly in his neck, the archer knew his death was sealed. The arrow’s tip and length had been painted a dark red, appearing almost black despite the sun’s ember glow, laced with smoke of the fires. “Medic!” he cried frantically, in hope for the most fleeting consolation. Few swordsmen in the rear line turned and abandoned their position to witness the catastrophe. From the distance, an Ionian donning silver and red armor sprinted through the bloodied battlefield, tripping over the bodies that littered the ground. Ionia shall not fall. The voices were drowned, his vision darker than black. He promptly felt the fading sensation of a medic’s arcane energy course through him, in an attempt to surge life through his inanimate body… Was it? Perhaps it was a simple spell, maybe even Noxian execution magic. It felt nice. Serene. His body shivered, longing for a quick release. Lito wistfully smiled, the corners of darkness creeping in on his vision. The weak magic sensations were distant, ceased, leaving him at peace. With one final concentration of magic, he brought his unique, four-bladed weapon to him and faintly soared it inches above his bloodied chest. Drawing in his final breath, he choked out one last word to the soldiers around him, barely audible in the roar of battle. “Irelia.” Justice guides us, and I will not falter. Ionia shall not fall. True will cannot be defeated. I am Irelia, the Will of the Blades. http://www.shakespeare-oxford.com/wp-content/themes/sos/images/fhr.gif (Unsupported image host) Chapter 1 Inheritance She gathered her innate magic, forging two spirit blades on either side of her dark hair, glistening in the immersion of sunlight. With a seemingly effortless command, the two blades surged forward with sharp precision, stabbing into the tree with such force it cleared through the thick oak. With a grin of self-satisfaction, she summoned four blades and repeated the exercise, this time ensuring not to penetrate the tree completely. With a yawn, she slumped into the makeshift chair of a tree trunk and let her head fall back, eyes leveled at the clear sky with a sigh. Today was a rather pleasant day for those of Ionia, in contrast to the Noxian invasions which have been occurring rather frequently. She, as well as every other young Ionian had wished them over, as they knew their time was to come sooner or later. The time in which every Ionian is required to serve in the military for a minimum of three years, notwithstanding their usual fervency of retaining the natural, organic world and ridding it of the human poison which no antidotes exist for: war and conflict. She had her own reasons to bring the war to a standstill. Her own personal reasons to end the war. The war that had taken her father’s life. Picking herself up out of anger and fear, she abruptly shaped two spirit blades and cast them in reverse directions to transect at the base of the oak tree. Dissolving them once more, she walked away from the tree, towards the hut. Shortly after she stormed through the door, the tree collapsed and crashed to the ground, emitting an ear-splitting roar. Not long after she sat down, her brother entered through the front door, two paper bags in his arms. She looked up to face him, and then looked back at the ground, fleeting memories of her father’s inhumane death not four days ago passing through her mind. She was never the same, and she never would be. //And that's where I stopped a month back. Going to try to finish this again, maybe make a new thread for it if I like it. //Also, your writing you've shown us is pretty good. It's a promising start to flourish into a short story if you decide to do so. |