a quarter of the field. He twisted his body and leaped into the air high above me. Falling straight down towards me, he pulled his cloak in front of him. It turned into a silver spear with the edge pointed down right at me.
Twisting my hand again and moving it to my side, I grasped the earth around me and encased myself into a bunker made of dirt and stone. I could feel the clash of the metal hit the enclosure, cracking the roof. Shooting outwards the stones darted in every direction like nail driven torpedoes. Balin spun like a tornado, deflecting all of the stone that came into contact with him.
"Stop this madness." Balin shouted at me, "like hell you can defeat me. You don't have the guts to kill, you never did."
Ripping the handle off my cane, I tapped the blue crystal against my forehead. I could feel the pain as my body ripped into two, tearing right down the middle. My head felt like it was being sawed down by an old rusty and dull saw. But now, standing beside me was a mirrored image of myself, an illusion.
"That's new." Balin said, turning his cloak into a silver metal.
"This ends now!" I howled after him.
Both of me ran towards him, one from the right, the other from the left. The one on the right shot a bolt of lightning at Balin's feet while the other rumbled the ground as it shifted below him. Throwing him off balance, the me on the right shot out a shockwave pushing him backwards as the me on the left apported behind him with my hand and cane extended.
A wave of light blew out from his shield, as it disinte-grated. The second me on the right disappeared.
I stood with my cane wedged into his heart. He had moved into my apparition, fusing his body with my blade. I pulled it free, blood dripped from the edge of my sword as my brother fell to the ground.
"You were always so naive." Balin said to me.
"And you never listen brother. If it wasn't for you, peo-ple would still be alive." I told him, sheathing my sword.
"No! You can't blame me for that. I did what I had to, I did what anyone would do if they saw their family and friends hunted like dogs just because they were different. We didn't start or deserve this, the Church will burn for its crimes against our world. I promise this." Balin said coughing up blood.
"Go now brother, as I clean up your mess again, I shall see you in another life." I said walking away from him. He yelled for me, but I couldn't look back, he didn't deserve it.
He brought this upon himself.
The Apprentice
By Allen Brown
" Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. "
- Edgar Allan Poe
Prologue
The pastor took each step with intent as he approached the podium, he was careful to not disturb the ground beneath him. His legs dragged, as if they were weighted, along the freshly cut grass shining from the dew that coated it the night before. The atmosphere was heavy, and the air thick. Silence crept the hollow grounds like daises invading a field of roses. Gripping the podium, the pastor zeroed in on us, his audience. Diverting my eyes whenever his glance hovered over to me, he began, "Ladies... Gents..." He spoke in a thick Irish accent, pausing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He has clearly done this a thousand times, something I imagine one could never acclimate to. Continuing, "We gather
Twisting my hand again and moving it to my side, I grasped the earth around me and encased myself into a bunker made of dirt and stone. I could feel the clash of the metal hit the enclosure, cracking the roof. Shooting outwards the stones darted in every direction like nail driven torpedoes. Balin spun like a tornado, deflecting all of the stone that came into contact with him.
"Stop this madness." Balin shouted at me, "like hell you can defeat me. You don't have the guts to kill, you never did."
Ripping the handle off my cane, I tapped the blue crystal against my forehead. I could feel the pain as my body ripped into two, tearing right down the middle. My head felt like it was being sawed down by an old rusty and dull saw. But now, standing beside me was a mirrored image of myself, an illusion.
"That's new." Balin said, turning his cloak into a silver metal.
"This ends now!" I howled after him.
Both of me ran towards him, one from the right, the other from the left. The one on the right shot a bolt of lightning at Balin's feet while the other rumbled the ground as it shifted below him. Throwing him off balance, the me on the right shot out a shockwave pushing him backwards as the me on the left apported behind him with my hand and cane extended.
A wave of light blew out from his shield, as it disinte-grated. The second me on the right disappeared.
I stood with my cane wedged into his heart. He had moved into my apparition, fusing his body with my blade. I pulled it free, blood dripped from the edge of my sword as my brother fell to the ground.
"You were always so naive." Balin said to me.
"And you never listen brother. If it wasn't for you, peo-ple would still be alive." I told him, sheathing my sword.
"No! You can't blame me for that. I did what I had to, I did what anyone would do if they saw their family and friends hunted like dogs just because they were different. We didn't start or deserve this, the Church will burn for its crimes against our world. I promise this." Balin said coughing up blood.
"Go now brother, as I clean up your mess again, I shall see you in another life." I said walking away from him. He yelled for me, but I couldn't look back, he didn't deserve it.
He brought this upon himself.
The Apprentice
By Allen Brown
" Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. "
- Edgar Allan Poe
Prologue
The pastor took each step with intent as he approached the podium, he was careful to not disturb the ground beneath him. His legs dragged, as if they were weighted, along the freshly cut grass shining from the dew that coated it the night before. The atmosphere was heavy, and the air thick. Silence crept the hollow grounds like daises invading a field of roses. Gripping the podium, the pastor zeroed in on us, his audience. Diverting my eyes whenever his glance hovered over to me, he began, "Ladies... Gents..." He spoke in a thick Irish accent, pausing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He has clearly done this a thousand times, something I imagine one could never acclimate to. Continuing, "We gather
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