• A Bright world
    (Cluster #1)
    The main characters are Logan and Blade. The plot is…well you’ll have to find out ^.^
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    PART 1


    Through the tall grass which clung to his boots, strode Logan Yutar. The air he possessed was of confidence and self-satisfaction. He held this air with no shame; after all, he had done the deed. His mission was complete.

    Contrary to the numerous carcasses that surrounded Logan, no terror, fear or disturbance showed in his step, he passed the dead as though they were nothing more than broken toys. A fallen woman body that was strewn across the path lay in his way and, with a steel capped toe; he kicked her out of the way. No emotion flitted through his eyes.

    The field of dead bodies had become familiar to Logan over the years. It was the battle field he had fought on many times. Victory was always his. Logan never fell for the last time. Not with the life crystal.

    Acidic smoke billowed from the fire Logan had built to burn the dead, the foul smell clung to his cape and wrapped its deadly tentacles around his neck. With only a smirk, Logan unwrapped the feeble smoke trail and never once slowed. This was a time of victory. A time of death.

    Emotionless grey eyes scanned the field from its tree ringed edge, searching for something with no interest. They found their target and were carried towards it. Emotion was betrayed for the first time in the grey eyes as the pace in which they travelled quickened. Thirst filled them, filled every corner until nothing else could be shown.

    Crawling on a broken leg was a girl of maybe seventeen to Logan’s assessment. A survivor, an enemy. Cold metal that spilt the air silently ended the girl’s feeble attempt to escape. All were dead.

    Logan turned the girl’s dead face over to touch the half-sunlight so he could examine her further. Only a small spark showed in his grey-wash eyes as he realised the girl was beautiful. Banished quickly, the spark retreated to where it came from and black humour took their place, filling it with far more power.

    “What a waste of beauty.” Mocked Logan, his voice a deep seductive murmur, edged with the black humour which was blazing in his eyes. Swords returned to the waiting stations, the steady strides claimed Logan’s legs again and he reached the gate, leaving the field more quickly. Rust had possessed the latches of the gate, causing the opening to be slow and loud. Unfazed by this delay, he continued with his previous air down the next field. Towards the statue.

    Black as the midnight sky, the statue stood out glaringly amongst the over-grown, pale grass. Unable to conceal the wonder that flashed in his eyes, Logan admired the statue’s beauty as he halted; his boots were now a deeper shade of grey from the wet vegetation.

    The statue consisted of two magnificent, night black rings, towering over the pathetic vegetation of the field, drawing the eye. Caught up in the beauty of the statue, Logan stood, transfixed in the grass. Drawing breath quietly, he began to slowly walk towards the statue, reaching inside a pouch hanging from his neck. Glistening in the sunlight, he pulled out a purple coloured crystal, so dark it nearly matched the statue before it.

    Trembling, Logan lowered the crystal into a bowl, waiting at the foot of the statue. Immediately, the bowl filled with a glowing liquid, immersing the crystal entirely. As the liquid twisted and writhed as through it had form and life, Lids fell like curtains apon the grey eyes of Logan the ring’s assassin and the hands that were linked picked up the bowl.

    Pale-skinned lips parted as the bowl breached their surface, the living liquid tumbling down into the beyond. Wincing, Logan had to admit the liquid burnt and pained his throat, yet he knew what was next and succumbed to enduring the liquids torturous effects.

    Visions appeared behind the closed lids and Logan saw for not the first time, the Dark profile of his master, the master now, of this world. Pride filled Logan as he once again witnessed his lord and gratefulness once again overcame him for being saved from the siege.

    Painful memories overcame Logan for a moment as he remembered the beginning of the take over, as he had fought to keep the rebels at bay. He imagined being one of the rebels and laughed coldly; knowing death would have been the only path of him. The ring master was unstoppable, without equal.

    Reopening, his mind beared witness again to his master. The black outline was as it had always been merely black, no features or obvious shapes. Sound began to emerge from what Logan believed was his masters lips.
    “You have served me well Logan Yutar, the assassin of night. Once again your mission has been fulfilled without fault or flaw.” Came the cold hiss that was now familiar to Logan. Emotion seized Logan’s mind at the flattery, more powerful than in the field with the dead.
    “Master…Thank you. It is an honour to serve, an honour to fight.” Shivers raced down His spine as Logan addressed his master.

    “There is only one more thing I require from you assassin.” Replied the hiss, stating no welcome for Logan’s thanks. Lights filled Logan’s dream eyes at the prospect of pleasing his master.
    “What will you have me do master?” he enquired, heart pounding as his psyche raced to find something he had not yet accomplished.
    “Wipe out the rebellion entirely.” Echoed the soulless voice in the vision, the vision which suddenly drew to a close.


    Grey irises were suddenly visible as Logan’s eyelids flew open as the vision ended. Gasping, Logan keeled onto his knees and regained his breath, a simple after-effect of contacting the ring Master. Emotion slowly faded from the grey eyes and returned to being silent at the back of Logan’s mind. Emotions were for the weak.

    Large hands rose to Logan’s temples as he thought deeply about his last and ultimate mission. Destroy the rebellion. It had never been done before. Reclaiming the dark crystal, Logan allowed the veil of sleep and dreams to take him and he laid his Black haired head in the damp grass, eyes closing slowly as the blackness took him.

    PART 2

    Smells of roasted sausages wafted temptingly over to blade, drawing him even closer to the camp fire. It was a miracle the raiders had managed to get sausages. The emotionless ones only ate an unknown food.

    Blade’s moss green eyes sparkled in the camp fire light yet they were troubled. Lola, his smaller sister, had predicted they were coming. The emotionless ones. Trouble tinted everything Blade smelt and saw, leaving no room for joy.

    He tried hard to concentrate on the banter surrounding him, tried to lift himself out of the depression Lola had set him in. Damn Lola, he though sullenly. She was known to be a party pooper.

    Rising smoke caused water to fill Blade’s eyes as it brushed his face and parted to move around him. Ducking, Blade seated himself beside Carline, a beautiful, olive skinned girl. Intelligent eyes fixed blade’s face, firelight sparkling off them. White teeth flashed joyfully beneath her lips as they parted into a smile. She was caught up in the celebration mood to.

    Stinging, blade rubbed his damp eyes, embarrassed to of been caught sulking. A wider grin replaced the previous one on Carline’s face at this, a laugh erupted from deep within her throat.
    “Don’t sulk misery guts.” Friendly laughter softened her order.
    “Can’t help it.” Were the only words Blade felt up to muttering.
    “Oh well. On the emotionless ones don’t sulk.” She still attempted to comfort him. Couldn’t she see he was permanently set in this state?

    “Oh! Let me show you the collections newest addition.” Another light, not the firelight, lit her eyes now. Unable to resist her gusto, Blade stood up, rather unwillingly. Moss eyes passing over the broken branches on the floor, Blade followed the bouncing twenty year old into the largest of the thirteen tents.

    Gasping, Blade’s depression was shattered by the sight of the broken artefact. He picked up the expensive China, admiring the deep cracks.
    “Is this genuine?” shock caused his voice to tremble. Old human possessions had been burnt when the emotionless ones took over, encase they were contaminated.

    “Uhu” came Carline’s response; the pride was obvious in her tone. Engrossed, Blade traced the intricate cracks that ran criss-cross across the surface of the jug. He stroked the smooth layer that was used for the handles, inhaled the musty scent inside of it.

    Reborn, carline’s smile returned as she watched his examination. Invitingly, Carline held out her hand for blade. Cheered, he accepted it and they strode off towards the meadow in the centre of the woods.

    Calls of the remaining birds of the forest resounded around them, filling any awkward silences. River Lowns rapids could be heard smacking the maze of rocks down below and the calmer waters ahead were merely background music to contrast.
    Through the thick layout of Pines Blade walked in silence, watching the floor for any roots that might trip him up. Moonlight shone down through the gaps in the leafy covering, making the way just visible. An unidentifiable emotion burned in Carline’s sapphire blue eyes but Blade couldn’t make out what it was.

    Patches of grass were the first signs they had reached the border to the meadow, then tale tale wild flowers were scattered around, bringing colour to the gloomy surroundings. Winding and twisting, the calmer water river was engraved on the other side of the meadow. A circle of pure moonlight proclaimed the meadow as well as a welcoming sign would have.

    Blade sat on the very edge of the short-grassed meadow, back stretched out among the short shoots, head slightly raised by the hands behind it, eyes glued to Carline’s moving figure. Smiling softly, the woman began to pick the flowers growing on the riverbank, concealed among the various reeds.

    Rising, she came to lye beside Blade, gazing into his watching eyes.

    PART 3

    Alert and searching, watery grey eyes scanned the tree’s borders for the breach to the meadow. Through that breach would be the shortcut to the camping sight. Waiting there, unprepared ignorant, were the rebels.

    Mounted apon a great dark mount was Logan, Shoulders facing the straight line of towering Pines. Emotion riddled his eyes; similar to the emotion betrayed when he had found a survivor, a fight. Hunger, hunger for blood.

    Fiercely, strong hands motioned the whip to strike the horse’s side, causing it to whine in complaint but began bounding to the forest’s edge. Horses showed emotion, they were weak.

    Moonlight from the full moon that shimmered dangerously in the sky reflected of the cold grey eyes highlighting the hunger even more. Irritated, the deep grey hood hanging around the back of Logan’s neck was pulled up to shield the pale face from the moons revealing light. Light would mean one thing, he could been seen, get caught.

    Caution was the only motivation behind Logan not giving into his desperate urge to canter at the maximum speed towards the now obvious breach. He must be careful.

    Once again the lids of Logan’s eyes closed as his mind flashed back to the previous night.

    It was bright in the apartment, the light reflecting of the whitewashed walls, shining metal surfaces glimmered in the dim light. Logan passed through rooms he vaguely remembered the names of. The Kitchen, the living room and a study. He halted when he reached the…the bedroom. Cowering behind the once magnificent four-poster bed was a quivering black bundle.

    Terror twisting its features, the face of a small child looked up into the thirsty grey eyes towering above it, the ones that were betraying only thirst, no pity, no regret. Glinting blades already raised high, the duel swords slashed down and silenced the scream that was about to come.

    One more rebel down, his family already beyond this world, this world which they were not worthy for.

    Closer and closer was his goal of eliminating all the rebels yet there were so many that it hardly seemed signifignant killing one small, snivelling child.

    Ominous and mysterious, the breach stood before Logan, awaiting his entrance. Stealthy now, he whipped the horse again, urging it on, hungry for the pain that would soon come. One thing Logan had not been prepared for were people already lying in his way.

    Across the river, lying blissfully in the trimmed grass were two emotion filled humans, weak and incomplete. Their smiling faces turned simultaneously to fix onto the washed-out grey irises, centred with a pupil, that were watching them cautiously. They screamed.