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The Dark Swordsman
Prologue: Magic Returns

Prologue: Magic Returns

A small red bird landed on the tree branch. The forest was filled with unseen life. Trees swaying in the light breeze, a chipmunk  climbed an old oak. Nuts shoved into its mouth, it settled down in a small hole in the oak’s bark.

Geese flew overhead in the cloudless sky, back from a warmer place. Insects swarmed on the ground, between fallen leaves and branches. The forest was filled with the sounds of summer, the sounds of life traveling on the breeze.

Everything fell silent, the birds took flight, the small animals hid. The bugs borrowed deep into the earth. Something churned under the old oak. Something dark, chaotic. Then the ground shook, sending small forest animals scattering. The earth rumbled for miles, sending everything and everyone into panic.

The oak split down the middle, a jagged slice. Splinters flew everywhere, peppering the ground. The earth cracked open, revealing a damp, dark cave beneath. The magic within seized its chance, it crawled from the cave, taking form.

First it solidified, turning into a thick amber liquid that slid down the small hill. It spread through the forest, seeping into the ground. It twisted everything it touched, changing it.

The small hill soon became a volcano of pure magic essence, spitting it onto the ground. It twisted the landscape, scarring it with magic. The unlucky animals that weren't able to escape were consumed by the essence.

Deep within the ground, in a hidden room long forgotten, the chaotic magic seeped through the walls, headed upwards. The cave was covered in a thick layer of cobwebs. A skeleton sat against the wall, clutching a small rusted key in one hand. A scabbard and dark iron sword in the other hand. Its clothes were in rags, moth eaten and falling apart. The empty sockets stared at the other side of the cave, into the darkness.

A little magic essence coalesced on the roof, into a single drop. The drop, made of pure, chaotic magic, fell. It burned through the ancient cobwebs without resistance.

The single drop hit the head of the skeleton with a plop that echoed throughout the room. It ran over the skull of the skeleton, seeping into the bones. The chaotic magic repaired the ancient bones that were close to turning to dust. It started to glow, the magic spreading through the dried marrow.

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Once the bone was hardened, muscles were slowly grown out. Then the magic rebuilt the skeleton’s heart, and other organs. Then the eyes were remade, the brain rebuilt. Once the organs and muscles were repaired, the magic started to regrow the skin.

The pure, chaotic magic was nearly done, now it slowly regrew the hair. It turned the hair an unnatural black. Nearly done, the magic moved onto the rags that the former skeleton wore. It restitched the cloth, burning it a dark, chaotic black. Once the rags were repaired, it traveled to the rusted iron sword.

It burned the rust away, revealing black iron. It repaired the leather grip and handle, repairing the black scabbard in the process. The magic was finished, sending out a jolt of electricity, it started back up the heart and organs.

    A few moments later, the boy awoke. He sucked in a breath of air, and coughed violently. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing unfocused, amber colored eyes that glowed in the dark.

    Once the coughing subsided, the boy lifted his head and looked around the cobweb covered cave. Feeling something in his hand, he looked down at the now shining iron key.

He held it up, looking at it.

It was masterfully crafted, with intricate designs in the iron. The boy looked in his other hand and saw his dark iron sword.

“Wha…?” He croaked, now starting to think. Then the memories came rushing back, like a tidal wave of doom.

His eyes opened in horror. He looked down at his chest, frantically looking for a mortal wound to the heart. He patted his chest, feeling for a stab that had speared his heart. He found nothing, not even a hole in his shirt.

He looked up, and around the cave. He scrambled up off his feet, leaving the sword behind. Franticly running  over to the other side of the room, looking for a door. Cobwebs covered him, but he ignored them. He felt around the wall till his fingers touched wood.

He looked at the ancient wooden door. There was a large crack in the door. When he looked through the crack, he saw a small empty stone room with another crack in the ceiling.

Upon seeing the empty room he let out a scream. It was a scream of anguish, anger, sorrow and fear.

He had failed, the magic and plague had escaped, he had been powerless.

Only one thought ran through his newly remade mind, ‘I have failed.’

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