Kreel curled his fists. Comrades in black robes fell all around him. Their bodies littered the battlefield far more than the beasts did. They were losing. Fast.
A hound barreled its way towards Kreel, snarling. It had just broken out of the tree line. The hound’s tongue flopped from side to side, dripping pools of saliva. A thick hide protected it, latched on like chunks of raw flesh. It would protect against most weapons. But not all.
Kreel bent his legs and drew his right hand back, cocking it. Sparks tinged the air around his fist and continued to gather.
That’s it. The addictive sensation that came with using the Element washed over him. It had accompanied him throughout many of his military years. Like a dose of sugar, it elated him. The sparks grew into blue shackles reminiscent of lightning. This was the Element. His Element.
Kreel took a breath to calm down. The hound was a few seconds away. The Element spurred, lightning firing in all directions. The hardest step was here.
Condense. Like a black hole, his fist sucked in the stray lightning, gathering it into a crackling azure sphere that was ready to explode at any moment. The hound lunged at Kreel, jaw snapping, and Kreel met it with his fist.
In an explosive flash, the hound flew to the side, its head caved in from where Kreel had punched it. The hound twitched – the last fires of a dying beast.
The battle was far from over. One small fight like that wouldn’t turn the tide. But with the explosion, Kreel had hoped to reel in a larger prey. He succeeded. Only, he had reeled in the largest.
A goliath marched from the horizon, each step shaking the earth. It towered over the battlefield like a mountain. A mountain of stone and grey turned animate by the Element.
What little of his soldiers that remained quaked.
“Goliath!” someone screamed, unleashing a wave of panic upon the black army. The soldiers scrambled, dropping fights and sprinting towards the borders of Pharoal with stricken looks on their faces. The beasts dashed after them. Escaping was a narrow road.
Kreel wasn’t equipped to fight a goliath, but was anyone? He couldn’t ask or order his men to stay. With the sun rising behind, the goliath casted a deep shadow on the battlefield, swallowing men and beasts alike. Darkness had come as a goliath. The age where humans could fight against them wasn’t here yet. Sparks gathered around Kreel’s fists. But he would try.
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THOMAS
Three months. That was how long he’d been in this godforsaken world. And he hadn’t gotten anywhere. When he woke up at the doorstep of the tower, no longer on Earth, he had at least expected safety and security. The ability for a fresh start. Instead, he found himself in a dark alley of the Second Floor.
“I have 15 credits,” Thomas said, staring at his feet. “I know it’s not enough, but it’s all I have.”
“That’s not the tribute,” a rough silhouette grumbled. The organization seemed to send a different person every time. The alley was too dark to tell who it was, but they were big. An enforcer. With no moons or suns inside the tower, it always was dark in Scofield, except for a few electric lights or flickering flames. That is, only if you were on the lowest floors. When Thomas had stood outside the tower, he had seen white marble castles at the high floors, among the clouds, breathing fresh air. Glass bridges ran from mansion to mansion, open to the sky. The sun hit them and parted into a million dazzling rays, falling ever so sweetly onto the golden field outside the tower.
It was glamour and luxury the likes of royalty. It was peace and excitement. Thomas’s heart had pounded when he first saw it. His blood had boiled at this new world. But getting there would never happen. The low floors made sure of it.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“I don’t have the rest,” Thomas breathed, “I’ll get it as soon as I make some more money, but –“
The silhouette flashed, and the air flew out of Thomas’s lungs. Thomas rolled onto the pavement, gasping, clutching his gut. His nails dug into the ground as he struggled to breathe. His misplaced dreams of happiness had been beaten out of him over the last three months. Scofield had blinked out of existence any part of him that thought he could rise, that thought he could be happy.
“That’s not my problem,” the silhouette replied gruffly as he towered over Thomas. Now that they were closer, Thomas could notice the man’s bulging muscles. “It’s yours. Clean up your mess. And bring double the tribute next time, Visitor.”
“But I already paid some - ”
The man’s kick sent Thomas rolling across the pavement with a scream. The world spun, and Thomas’s vision faded to black. Scofield was no place for a Visitor. It was no place to rise.
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3 MONTHS EARLIER
Thomas groaned. Too much light leaked through his eyelids. His bed felt hard and rough. He shifted, rustling soft blades, crunching something under him. Groggily, Thomas got on his feet. The ground seemed to move and spin like the waves of an ocean during a storm. Thomas careened to one side, and then to the other, but slowly, his vision seemed to stabilize. The sun took its place on the horizon, trees became still, and grass took over the ground. It was dawn, and reality sunk in.
Thomas rushed to a bush and retched. Thomas wracked his head, trying to recall anything, whether he had made it to his house or had just collapsed outside, but it was all a blur. He hadn’t drunk any alcohol. He was 17. In fact, Bill had made sure of it. So, what happened?
Thomas looked up. He had never heard of a place like this. It was unearthly. A calm wind whistled through red bushes and rustled Thomas’s hair as if to greet him. White trees curved like arches and rose into a dazzling blue sky specked with clouds. Maroon leaves populated the trees’ branches, forming a lush canopy overhead, and fell atop short golden yellow grass that swooned in the wind’s embrace. This could not be on Earth. Because in the distance, with a golden sun rising behind it, standing tall above the forest expanse, loomed a city upon a hill.
The city was as wide as a mountain range. Thomas couldn’t see its top as it continued into the clouds. Huge white marble complexes and planes formed level after level. Glass bridges connected towers in a beautiful web. This was a city that grew upwards, not outwards. Nearly halfway to the clouds, as tall as a tsunami, massive grey walls stood perched.
What they kept out, Thomas didn’t know.
As Thomas headed towards the city, he noticed that the air carried a certain feeling to it. With each breath, he felt electric, almost. There was a different element in the air. Something magical. This was not Earthly. The golden grass fell easily to Thomas’s steps in a constant rhythm. A dream, perhaps? Thomas’s head whirred, and he began to run without knowing why. White trees blurred past. Maroon leaves spiraled as they fell. The wind whispered. Thomas broke into a sprint. The wind called for him louder and louder like voices that were right by his side. Branches shook and waned, and leaves hurled towards Thomas, propelled by a force beyond Thomas’s eye. A thick bush obstructed Thomas’s way, but he charged through, arms closely guarding his body.
Thomas panted as he ran. The wind grew coarser and harsher while his breathing became sparser. Thomas gasped for air, but the raging wind didn’t allow it. It had sucked all the air out and replaced it with nothing. Void. He fell to his knees. The whirlwind of leaves was inches away now. It trapped and suffocated him. He could not breathe. Thomas’s body convulsed. The maroon leaves gathered around him in a furious whirl. The wind screamed his name, blaring over and over in an unceasing chant. He was not welcome in this world. Thomas had arrived for his death.
And then the force of wind dissipated. The leaves drifted onto the grass like all was normal. The air returned, as plentiful as it always was. Thomas thirsted, his cells crying for oxygen. He felt his consciousness fading, but in a few moments of clarity, he gathered his fists. Strength, that was what he needed in this new world. For survival. To live.
Foreign words and shouts flew by. A gate the size of a skyscraper opened with a machinic whirr, and a woman marched out. Fiery red hair fell down her back. She wore a slim grey uniform that stuck to her body, accentuating her curves, with gold lines running through and a black choker that wrapped around her pale neck. Behind her, men and women with more modest slim uniforms stood. They all looked fearsome with the rough air of a soldier. Sharp weapons held in hands. Scars around the table.
A feeling of competition and drive barged into his heart, spawning a mix of emotions that battled each other for control of his mind. Excitement. Fear. Ambitiousness. The will to power. Thomas smiled.
Yes, Thomas thought as his consciousness slipped, this will do perfectly.