The tree of magic

This is a fanficktion With Tom Hiddleston, Chris Hemsworth, Zachary Levi and Benedict Cumberbatch, but the story is set in a fantasy World .. This is my first try at something like this so be Nice ;)
I imagine Them looking like on the cover..

The country Armagh has lost nearly all its Magic after a great War and the land is slowly whitering, the princess gathers a group of People who still posesses Magic, People cast out of a society that fears them..
One member carries a great secret With him. Can they save the land from the gathering darkness ? And Can They save themself


2. Chris story

 Chris was standing completely still, his hands and forehead resting on the wooden wall, even though his last fight had been rough, he didn't have a single scratch on him.
 The arena smelled of blood, sweat and the pine wood from which it had been build, it was a nauseating smell and even though he should be used to it by now, it made his stomach churn, he wondered what people would say if he threw up ?
 He concentrated on the coming fight and tried to filter out the sounds from the audience. People talking, shopkeepers yelling their prices, a sheep was baaing and in a corner two drunken men were fighting.
 He was tired and his muscles were sore and he was gracious that he only had this one fight left, then he would be done for the day. The a mug of ale and some food would do him good and after that a long nights sleep. 
 The owner of the arena Abram hit the big gong an yelled in his best ringmaster voice. "And now the final battle tonight, the invincible barbarian Chris against the swamp witch".
 A small woman with a bent back shuffles through the door to the arena, in old times he would have laughed and thought that there was no way he was fighting an old woman, but he had now learned to never underestimate an opponent.
 When Chris slowly walked closer to the witch he felt nude and vulnerable, he was naked except for a loin cloth made from animal hide and his only weapon was a long wooden spear.
 Suddenly the witch attacked him with a squeal that went through to the marrow and her claws left 4 deep scratches across his chest before he get her thrown of.
 "Vile witch". He mumbled to himself, the scratches burned for a moment, then they seemed to fade and slowly they disappeared, like the time was running backwards.
 When she attacked again he was ready and held her of whit his spear, the witch was shrieking, flailing her claws like a mad woman, angry not to be able to reach him.
 Suddenly she pulled back and a moment later a swarm of magical icicles flew around him, sounding a lot like angry bees, the air suddenly cold and damp.
 The sweat was running down his face despitenthe cold, when he fought the hitnall the icicles with his spear, when he hit them thy shattered into small clouds of silver sparkling ice partikles springling down on the ground.
 He felt a sharp pain in his right tigh, a big icicle had found it's way past him, penetrating his leg, he cursed but couldn't be bothered with it right now.
 Finally there were no more icicles and he grabbed the one in his thigh pulling it out slowly the audience was whooping, they loved blood and pain.
 Enough was enough, he walked toward the witch to end this fight, but as he cloosed in, his head and feet started getting heavy, he felt really tired all of a sudden.
 He looked up and saw she was holding a small lamp like object, dangling on a chain from her hand, there was smoke coming from it and he knew right away that it was the smoke that made him drowsy.
 His eyes closed and the dreams invaded his mind, he justnwanted to lay down and give in, to fall asleep, glide away into nothing and experience the sweet and alluring dreams.
 But he fought it, he had to finish this last fight, then he could go to sleep and escape this hell.
 Chris slowly slid tomthe floor, his eyes fought to stay open, but at last they gave up and closed, his body getting limp.
 The people betting on him to win yelled in ager at him, it looked like they were loosing their money.
 The witch slowly shuffled nearer, when she was standing right in frontnof him, he hit the lamp thing with a fast move, making it fly to the other end of the arena.
 He jumped to his feet and before the witch realised she had been tricked, he used the spear to sweep away her feet and he placed his right foot on her scrawny chest. As hoped she surrendered right away, he had won again.
 Abram announced him the winner, the ones betting on him whooped and the people betting on the witch screamed profanetis, some even throwing their gnawed of chicken bones after her.
 "Good fight Chris, for a moment I thought she had you, now go get some food". Abram clapped his shoulder, he was happy about the amount of money the fight had earned him.
 Chris found an empty table in a corner, slidingndown on the chair, asking the bar wench to bring him a mug of ale and some food.
 He enjoyed sitting alone, watching the weird assembly of women, while eating his food.
 Even though quite a lot of people commended on his fights and a couple of whores offered their talents, he felt lonely in midst the crowd, none of them knew him or saw him as more than todays entertainment.
 He didn't enjoy fighting to entertain these simple people, but henhad no choise, Abram owned him, like someone had owned him since he was an orphan boy, he was nothing but a slave to be bought and sold.
 When he hed finished his food he went to his small chamber alone, crawling into his bed and falling fast asleep, dreaming about being free and calling his own shoots.

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