OoC: It's finally here, Z. =B

BiC:

They say all good things must come to an end, but is the same true for the bad? Can evil and malice disappear just as suddenly as relief or euphoria, or does it stick around in the dark corner of our hearts? Does evil ebb away at the innermost thoughts and feelings of society, only to be pushed aside for brief moments of valor, then rear its ugly head once more?

In the distance, across the hilly and wild flower-strewn fields stood a sleeping giant. Mt. Arat had not erupted in over three hundred years, but that did not mean the people of the area trusted it. Rightly so, since the mountain had since become the home of a viscous demon. Ah, but this was not any ordinary demon, but a demon that could forge swords as expertly as the one that made a sword most fowl: Vaskalen.

The red-haired and quite novice swordsman looked out of place in such a beautiful setting. His clothes were worn and dirty, and his once vivid emerald eyes had a slight glaze in the light. Yet, he was not alone this time. Walking a few paces behind him, extremely dissatisfied with the upcoming meeting was a man also out of place here.

He was like the other man’s polar opposite. He wore a striking, striped business suit that look like it had just come back from the cleaners. The man’s hair was neat and tidy, and his eyes were still the sharp shade of hazel they had always been. Furthermore, on his back he held a large bow and quiver while the other man wielded a sword.

“How much longer is this going to take?” Spoke the sharply dressed man.

“Another hour of walking,” replied the man ahead.

“You need to loosen up, Galan. I mean, just because you got beat up so thoroughly is no excu-”

“Don’t you dare bring that up, Zalif!” The man cut off indignantly.

The man known as Zalif simply rolled his eyes and kept his mouth shut. Galan was much more violent these days, especially after his defeat to what he called ‘The Man in Green’. Mioska told him a bit about the man, and that he had recently passed on. Being a part of the shadows, she could hear things even in other dimensions, so long as shadows existed. Still, the two of them decided not to share this information with either Galan or their master.

In fact, it was a relief for him to know that the shadow-wielding girl was pretty well her former self. It meant all that was keeping him bound to the sword was time, since she planned to betray it. Well, if that moment is to come, it had better come soon, he thought as they began to climb the mountain. It would only be a couple of minutes before the sword met whom it needed to meet.

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(Avy by insaney, sig by an assortment of various ZUers present and past. You know who you are. =3)
Figments of my Imagination.