[u][b]The Fell Arts[/b] Alon's Apartment, Dojoville 4:53AM[/u] [i]Dreams are... powerful. To a mage who rules through emotion and his mental fortitude, dreams are a major catalyst to all his powers. But one doesn't simply dream... for to get to the end of life, you must walk through hell first. Alon, shirtless and wearing only his sweatpants, lay asleep on the floor of his apartment. He had only the energy to change out of his cloak, too tired to ex-quip; and even then, he had simply collapsed on the floor. It was not his preferred sleeping platform, mind you, but he had no trouble falling asleep. The fitful dreams that followed, though, were not of his desire... [/i][quote]"Everybody, get back!" [i]The soldiers yell as if in unison, the staccato cracks of gun fire and the bass that is the explosions filling the air. A grenade had been tossed, seemingly, and Alon had heard it through the comms. The team was having a tough time in there... The swelling anger inside him, like a raging ocean, threatened to overflow. Attempting to stand, he moved to do so when the sound of armour plates clacking reached his ears, reminding him he was at gunpoint.[/i] "I'm fine... they aren't. They need me in there." [i]The soldier just shook his head. [/i] [u]"Sir, we are under strict orders to keep you here. You're a threat to both our team and the mission."[/u] [i]His words were shaky, the sound of screams rising in pitch through the comms. It was clear the team was in more of a threat than they could ever imagine. Finally, the break in the clouds; a shining light on Alon's attempt at action.[/i] [u]"Men! We've secured Python! Send him in; we need help evacuating!"[/u] [i]The women's voice was full of static, gunpowder drowning her out. Little did they know that they had only lit the fuse to something so terrible... With an evil grin, akin to pure malevolence, the mage stood. Before the soldiers could move back, they felt a strangely dark aura pushing them back. Although, they didn't raise their guns. In their eyes was only fear. ~~~ Chaos. Absolute -blam!-ing chaos. The mage entered the warehouse, the enemy overwhelming in numbers; nature had already whipped up to something intense, winds upwards of 100km/h racing through the huge area. The dust and sand from the dunes came with it, and as his flaring cloak signified his entrance, the soldiers, friend or foe, stopped a moment in fear. With a mighty roar, the mage snapped. Winds carried sand fast enough to suffocate and skin those alive who stood in it. Blades of air and ice eviscerating bodies left right and centre, icicles the size of trucks impaling dozens of men at a time while hoisting their bodies up into the air. Fire, so much fire; mind-numbing explosions only added to the hell that he had created. Chunks of gore and meat, blood and skin, tossed around like tumbleweeds in the burning hellhole that was the warehouse. They had all evacuated, by now; the foolhardy enemies stuck by their orders to stay and fight the imminent threat. And Alon? He didn't give a damn. The rising emotions of anger, fear, hate, all boiled up into a moshpit of power. So much, he didn't know what to do with it. He took a bullet; one, two, three, five. But he moved on like a robot, destroying [u][b]EVERYTHING[/u][/b] he saw. He couldn't control the twisters of fire, the vortex's of hell. At this point, he couldn't even control himself. The worst of it all was the fell arts, or elder magic, he used. The shadows bent to his whim, the very darkness of his soul feeding the power of these attacks. The orbs of darkness seeped into their foe, exploding from within them in the most painful death possible. Other orbs simply expanded quickly, biting out a whole chunk of their body before sucking it into oblivion. Some exploded, sending the now dead men flying across the room. Dark purple fire touched at those who came close enough, consuming their mind and driving them insane. Some had it easy; Alon raised his hand, and their souls flew from their body, the empty shells dropping dead. All of it was the mage, though. 1000, 2000, 3000 men. Against one. In his final moment, the mage stood in a dome of ice thick enough to protect him. Screaming aloud, he pushed his arms outward; the room instantly combusted, blades of wind carrying almost plasma-like heats outward in every direction killing everything. The blades of wind sliced anything in half, the temperatures melting people alive. It turned the warehouse into an oven, yet turned up all the way to the temperature of a star. Finally, as the smoke cleared, the room was silent. Ashes fell from the ceiling, the eerie calm horrifying. Bodies hung in pieces from the roof. Blood littered every object. The smell of burning flesh clung to his nostrils. As the mage collapsed from exhaustion, he started to cry. Cry for hours; in the little spot of untouched floor, the charred circle he stood in a symbol of his deeds, he sobbed. The woman who had called him in came and put a hand on his shoulder. Words were exchanged, and feelings were shared. But in the end, nothing would ever console the mage. As one who preached life, he finally realized that all he brought was death. [/i][/quote] ~~~ [i]With a start, he awoke. The series of dreams... the sequence in which they came random. He hated it. The mage got up groggily, covering his upper body with a shirt. Training. The mage needed something to keep it off his mind. Silently, he walked out the door in normal attire. The cold never bothered him anyway.[/i] ~~~ [i]Climbing up past the Dojo in it's forestry setting, he settled near a village, just outside the view of peeking eyes. He'd sprinted all the way up, his breathe coming out slightly harder than normal. It'd been a while. Slowly, putting his hand down to the ground, he transmuted the earth beneath him into solid rock beams. Hoisting them on his back, he kept adding more and more and more. Eventually he held enough that would crush any man, but he held it with not just his strength but determination as well. Grunting, he stormed up the hill in front of him, running it up and down. Next, swordplay. The trees up here were thick and tall, the boreal forest he had settled in a wonderland of snow and dream-like centurions of the land. Standing tall, he picked the thickest tree; and with a flash of light, his 1.5m claymore, Ragnell, appeared on his back. Drawing the heavy golden blade, his muscles surfaced as his arm strained with the familiar weight. Raising the blade up he let out a feral warcry, hacking and slashing at every tree in his range. With dancing swipes and powerful lunges, he worked away at the trees with a fury unparalleled, allowing all his emotions to run free in a destructive manner. Cries and grunts escaped his lips, the sound being drown out by the consuming silence of the forest. His feet glided on the deep snow, his step light despite the weight of his armament, and his sleeveless shirt didn’t faze him in the below zero temperatures as his body felt like it was on fire inside. Crashing down, many trees fell under his powerful swordsmanship, and with one final slash he finished another off as it groaned, collapsing under it’s own weight. Panting, the mage leaned on his sword for support. He’d been at it for more than an hour now, his lips smiling with satisfaction. Collapsing in the foot deep snow, he let the crystals cool his skin and calm his flurry of emotions. The night was but just a memory to him; then again, it was always the memories that bothered him. Sighing, he rose from the ground. Checking his bionic again, the full arm prosthetic shown off in all it’s sleek, gunmetal grey glory in the sleeveless top, he allowed the sword to dissipate in the light that consumed it, flaking away like flower petals into the air. The smell of brimstone filled the air as his mind raced again. He wasn’t anything special. He was nothing more than a boy pretending to be an adult. He was useless; they’d all die in the end. He was weak. He was alone. He was hypocritical. He was stubborn. And worst of all, there was nothing he could do about it.[/i] [b]GODDAMN IT ALL!!![/b] [i]Thrusting his hand outward, the tallest tree around was engulfed with the haze that brought the smell and exploded into millions of splinters. The bits of wood shattered like glass rained from above, the haze having forced it inward to the point that it couldn’t go anywhere but out. In a plume of fire, it had combusted and exploded. Standing strong, he looked down with shame. His emotions had gotten the better of him. He really was just a kid, and there was nothing he could do about it.[/i]