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Not all is what it seems. There is more to the world than meets the eye. There exists a world of magic and spells hardly anyone has seen. Creatures of magic take form of that of the hairless apes. They are in a fight to survive. Trying to keep themselves alive from threat, from humans and even their own kind.

Dajirou crept silently through his forest home. His boot clad feet made no sound as he snuck up behind a herd of deer he had been tracking for the past three hours. Dajirou strung his bow and loosened an arrow from his quiver.

Sweat poured down his face, dampening his short black hair. His breath grew more hoarse and unsettled. Dajirou clenched his bow so hard his knuckles turned white.

He arose from his hiding place and released the arrow. The arrow flew straight and true towards its target, the neck of a young doe. The arrow hit its mark and the doe fell to the ground with a thud.

Dajirou approached the deer. It was still breathing and its eyes were wild with fear. Dajirou looked away from the deer, tears beginning to form in his black eyes. He muttered something in a long forgotten language, and the deer instantly went still.

Tears freely flowed from Dajirou’s eyes and down his cheeks. The sight would have been strange for a human if they came upon it as they walked through the forest. Here was a young man, no more than twenty-two, a thin, fit, lean and obviously strong by the size of his muscles, and he was crying over the deer he had just killed. The sight would have been strange for a human to see, but Dajirou wasn’t a human, not entirely anyway.

Dajirou was a Mystic. Mystics looked like humans, only they had a different scent and faint dark purple rings around their eyes. They also possessed the ability to see and control things around them, what one might call magic.

Dajirou knelt by the deer he had killed. He dried his tears with the short sleeve of his tunic and sighed. He placed a hand on the deer’s neck and gently closed its eyes. “I thank you for giving your life so that I may live. Nothing will go to waste. I will make sure of that,” Dajirou swore, silently.

Dajirou gathered his weapons and picked up the deer. He walked back to the small hut he lived in, in the middle of the lush forest, far from any humans, or at least partly.

On his way back to the hut, Dajirou saw the signs of humans everywhere. Be it the hiking trails, cut down trees, trash on the ground, or the scent of rancid smoke that all humans carried.

Dajirou grit his teeth. It was the humans’ fault the deer had to die. His kind could get along just fine drinking water and absorbing energy from the sun, but all that had changed. The waters had become poisoned and the energy from the sun was tainted. It was not enough to sustain the Mystics anymore.

Now his people barely numbered in the hundreds and they were forced to kill to survive. And of those who were born, fewer and fewer were able to call upon the ancestral magic. The Mystics were dying and it was all the humans’ fault.

The Mystic turned away from the signs of his natural enemy and continued to his hut. Outside of the hut, there waited a thin and scrawny, but slightly muscled, twelve year old boy with tied back, shoulder length black hair and eyes. Like Dajirou the boy wore a tunic and leggings, only his feet were bare instead of clad with boots.

The young boy approached Dajirou. “Welcome back big brother. How did the hunt go?” he asked.

Dajirou laid down his weapons and the deer. “The hunt went well Dahu. I only wish we didn’t have to do it. If those humans didn’t invade in our territory, we wouldn’t have to kill. We could live off the sun and drink the water as our ancestors did. Sadly that is not going to happen. It might never happen again,” Dajirou sighed.

Dahu looked at his older brother. “Can you tell me about our parents again? Please,” Dahu begged.

Dajirou sighed and shook his head. “I’ve already told you that story a thousand times, but once more won’t hurt. Mom had no powers, which makes us half-Mystic, and she died during your birth so you never met her, but she loved you deeply. Dad was away when mom died and he took it really hard. Our father was Danam, the most powerful full blooded Mystic left in existence. A month after mom died, Dad faced his greatest opponent ever, Soutin. Soutin was a rouge Mystic who sided with the humans. He killed Dad, something us Mystics don’t do unless we are forced to, so no one would stand in his way. Before Dad died he cast a spell that turned Soutin’s hair white and his eyes red. If any Mystics see Soutin they know he is a traitor and will not help him,” said Dajirou.

Dahu loved hearing the story of his father’s fight against Danam. Dahu might not have remembered his parents, but he loved hearing the adventures they had before he or Dajirou were born.

The young half-Mystic grabbed a short sword and staff that were lying on the ground. Dajirou looked at his brother. “Don’t go too far into the forest. There are a lot more humans in this area than there used to be. You aren’t that good at casting spells yet, so you’ll have to depend on your weapons for protection. Stay out of trouble and if you are in danger, shoot a red light beam into the sky. You should be able to do that much with your poor magic skills,” stated Dajirou.

Dahu rolled his eyes and left his brother’s sight. His walk was relaxed and fast, something Dajirou didn’t like. “Dahu’s going to get himself killed one of these days. His gate alone is proof of how much he still has to learn. He is too overconfident and not cautious enough. I wish you were here Dad. You would know what to do. You could make Dahu listen and teach him how to be more careful and cautious. You taught me well, but I still had a lot to learn when you and mom died. I don’t know if I can do it Dad. I don’t know if I can live up to your expectations and legacy. But I will try father. I will try,” Dajirou swore to himself.

Dajirou sat down on the ground. He began to skin the deer he had killed. Tears ran down his face each time his knife cut into the soft, tough hide of the deer.

Dahu carelessly walked through the forest. His steps were loud and unbalanced, his breath dull and uncaring. It was just like any other time he walked through the forest, or so he thought.

Dahu sensed an incredible rise in energy. He followed the energy signal to its source. The child couldn’t believe what he saw.

Not too far away from where he was hiding, Dahu could see a tall, strong looking man. The man only wore a pair of tattered pants and a decorated chest plate. The energy signature meant this man was a full blooded Mystic. By the white hair and red eyes the Mystic possessed, Dahu was sure it was Soutin.

Dahu grabbed his staff and lunged at his father’s killer. Soutin turned around and, with one hand, caught the staff of the person trying to attack him. The blood red eyes of the traitorous Mystic looked upon the young boy he could sense was half-Mystic.

A wicked grin grew on Soutin’s face. “You are the son of Danam. I can tell by your energy you are his son. Foolish child, you actually thought you could stand a chance against me? I will make quick work of you. Just like I did your father,” Soutin blurted.

Soutin ripped the staff from Dahu’s hands and broke it in two like a twig. Dahu drew his short sword and prepared to fight his father’s killer. As he did with the staff, Soutin caught the short sword with one hand and tour it out of its owner’s clutches.

Dahu knew he was in trouble. The half-Mystic turned and fled in the opposite direction. Soutin followed after the boy at top speed.

Dahu tried his hardest to stay ahead of his father’s killer. Think Dahu, think. What would Dajirou or father do in a situation like this? I wish I paid more attention to those magic lessons Dajirou taught me. Now I wish I remembered what he said when he spoke of the wind and coaxing plants to move to your will.

Suddenly it hit Dahu. “That’s it,” Dahu realized, “I’ll use the wind to worn Dajirou of Soutin’s presence. I hope I can remember the words to have the wind carry my message?”

Dahu muttered in the same language Dajirou had used to kill the deer. This time however the words were light and carefree, fun and playful, wild and unpredictable, just like the wind. The message had been sent to Dajirou. All Dahu could do was keep running and try to avoid the traitorous Mystic.

Dajirou had finished skinning the deer when he felt the urgency of the wind. The half-Mystic dropped what he was doing and ran into the hut. He quickly grabbed his long sword and a spare short sword.

Ready and armed, Dajirou ran in the direction the wind had warned him of danger. Words slipped silently from Dajirou’s tongue as he ran deeper and deeper into his forest home, towards what threatened its safety and the safety of his family.

Dahu kept on dogging the multiple powerful spells Soutin kept on casting. He tried to counter, but Dahu was too scared to properly counteract him opponent’s spell.

Out of nowhere, sword drawn and charging to the battlefield, was Dajirou. The two fighting Mystics smiled, Dahu for his brother’s arrival and Soutin for the chance to permanently eliminate all traces of his mortal enemy.

Dajirou tossed his brother the short sword. “Looks like you got yourself into trouble again. Nice job using the winds,” said Dajirou, “It came as a surprise you remembered that lesson.”

Dahu unsheathed the sword. “I pay attention. I just don’t always consciously listen.”

Soutin dropped into a fighting crouch. “Enough talk. I will destroy the both of you. Then all traces of Danam will forever be erased,” he shouted.

Dajirou and Dahu locked eyes. The two brothers nodded and ran from their opponent. Soutin mindlessly followed after the two brothers.

Unexpectedly, plants began to block Soutin’s way and tangled around his limbs. The rouge Mystic slashed at the plants to get himself free.

Dahu was amazed by the plants holding off Soutin. Dajirou smiled at his little brother. “That was just a small spell I remembered Dad teaching me,” told Dajirou.

Soutin was starting to catch up with the two brothers. “We better hurry. Follow me. We’ll lead him to the cliffs. Nothing will get damaged there. Hurry, before he catches us,” Dajirou said, slightly nervous.

Soutin was finally free. He looked around. Instantly, he found the energy signatures of the two he had been tracking. “So you’re going to the cliffs is it? Run all you want, useless half breeds. Nothing will stop me from destroying you.”

Soutin summoned his energy and teleported to the location of the two half Mystic brothers. He could sense the two brothers standing on the top of one of the multiple, empty, stone cliffs that surrounded him.

The Mystic jumped into the air. He scaled the cliff wall in a matter of moments. Soutin was at the top of the cliff. Now all he had to do was finish off the pests and be done with it.

“You kids are dead. There’s nothing you can do. I will destroy you and the last trace of Danam, if it is the last thing I ever do,” Soutin swore between clenched teeth.

The two brothers dropped into identical fighting stances. “Follow my moves Dahu. We need to work together. Concentrate and feel the world around you. We need to feel every living thing in this area. We need to borrow their energy if we are to defeat Soutin. Now concentrate, and whatever you do don’t stop,” exclaimed Dajirou.

Words of the long forgotten language fell from the two brothers’ tongues. Energy from every living thing in the area began to flow towards the two brothers. Dajirou and Dahu focused all of their energy and the energy they had gathered into one point.

A blast of pure white energy rushed towards Soutin. Soutin braced himself. The blast hit Soutin, but he did not fall over. The treacherous Mystic stepped closer towards the two brothers.

Dajirou and Dahu forced more of their energy into the attack, but it was no use. Soutin kept on getting closer and closer and closer. There was nothing they could do. It was all over.

“Dajirou. Dahu.”

The two brothers heard someone say their names. Dajirou recognized the voice. “Father?” he gasped.

At the side of the two brothers appeared a man with the same tanned skin as they had. The man looked identical to Dajirou and Dahu and appeared to be in his late thirties. He was dressed in fine clothing and armor.

Dahu just stared at the man. Dajirou was simply shocked. “You have handled the battle well my sons, but Soutin is my concern,” Danam declared. Danam put his own energy into his sons’ attack.

For some reason Soutin sensed Danam’s energy. He put the thought into the back of his mind and kept inching closer towards his targets. The father and sons were having a hard time keeping back Soutin. “Concentrate Dajirou. Move past your fear Dahu. Are you two willing to let Soutin destroy the forest?” shouted Danam.

In one finally last attempt to survive, the two brothers and their father put ever last bit of energy they had into their combined attack. Soutin felt hot. He noticed his skin had begun to boil and fry. The farther he walked, the hotter it got, and the more his flesh cooked. Soutin ignored the pain and kept moving forward.

The traitorous Mystic screamed when he realized what was happening to him. The longer his flesh cooked the weaker and weaker he got. His power had completely drained. He was nothing. All that remained of Soutin was a boiling corpse.

Dajirou and Dahu fell to their knees panting. “Thank you father,” Dajirou panted. But there was no one there.

Dahu looked at his brother. Sweat was pouring down his face and getting in his eyes blurring his vision. “Who was that? The man who helped us?” Dahu asked.

Dajirou got up off the ground. “That was Danam. That was our father, Dahu. Our father helped us,” answered Dajirou.

A hand placed itself on Dahu’s shoulder. Dajirou was nowhere near his brother. The corners of Dahu’s mouth curved and a smile tugged at his face. “I’m happy to have met you father. Tell mother Dajirou and I are well. Fare well father. I love you,” Dahu whispered.

Was Danam’s appearance real or just an illusion created by the imagination? For Dajirou and Dahu it didn’t matter. They got to see their father.
22-25, F
1 reply
Jul 12, 2019
GwydionFrost · 51-55, M
Excellent craftsmanship. Strong, steady.

My editor brain insists on bringing one edit to your attention.

Rouge is red.
Rogue is rebel. 😉

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