Oh Cruel Irony

Disease has poisoned the realms, claiming it to The Flesh. Fight back with what you have, but he has spoken, "Win no war, be overwhelmed."

Death is upon all those who fall and all those who resist. Fight back with what you have, but you can not win.

(i dont really like writing long chapters ... the first one is long cause i didnt know it was to be a story >.<)


1. The Beginning of Death

Yet, as the warm rays of sunlight painted the grassy hillside in a vibrant splash of colour, the cold glint of metal still sent shivers down the possessor's spine. The harsh contrast of life and death caused a half hearted smirk to form upon her lips; ironic isn’t it?

Far off in the distance stood proud forests, their branches expanding into the realms of the sky; braving the elements. The hushed tweet of distant birds echo throughout the trees, calling forth the season known to man as spring.

One being hovers alone in the expanse flanked by the east and west woodlands, protecting the evergreen plane between. Those who they guard against consist of life forms not recognizable by any animal kingdom. They roam the earth in search of their beloved prey.

A gentle breeze swept over the vast land before the warrior, bringing forth the stomach-wrenching smell of fresh blood. Her senses reacted instantaneously with such a negative response that the owner was sent reeling backwards. Funny how just the mere smell of death can cause the sudden urge to empty one’s stomach. She released a hollow chuckle while wiping the remains of a previous meal from the corners of her mouth. “So you came, oh cruel irony.”

Shadows shifted in the dark safety of the forests, concealing their presence from all but one. She cocked her head, listening to the peaceful music of the grasslands. The calming call of crickets could be heard from the sanctuaries of their hidden homes. A young doe bounded out of the forest perimeter braving the open world without the guidance of her caring mother. The source of the shadows had shown herself and the lone warrior gave a wiry smile. While the doe hopped around enjoying the freedom of dancing in unoccupied areas, she rested her weapon upon her shoulder, admiring the pure, innocent light of a child’s joy.

The sudden cry of distress awakened her from the world of dreams. She scanned the surroundings to find the more recent scent of blood. The young doe had fallen prey to the monster. Rocks flew and the ground trembled with every step of the approaching predator.

The very foundations of the earth shook in terror as the great predator drew near. It stood, towering over the snow peaked mountains in the far north; the souls of its feet, wider than the Tölmáar Lake of the south. With each step, the gap between her and it closed rapidly in size. She clenched her metallic weapon and raised it above her head. How long had she waited for this moment? How long had she yearned for revenge? And now it was finally here; the death sentence.

She lifted her head and closed her eyes. “I pray you give me strength for one more.” When she opened her eyes, the glare of the noonday sun had been shut out by an over shadowing beast, craving to munch upon her bones.

The monster reached down. She pounced on its outstretched arm and dashed up towards its face. Its peeling orange skin stank of rotting flesh, but that did not stop her accent. Reaching its discoloured shoulder, she leaped out into the air and hovered before its blurred auburn eyes.

Her ears echoed with the laughter of a child, and in an instant she was whipped away into the past. The ultimate joy and freedom of a child flashed before her eyes, followed by the screech of diseased , death purposed pain of a beloved sibling. She hesitated briefly, shock her head and reassured herself, “Rule # 33425: Memories are misinterpretations of dreams”

With one slice, it was over. Beheading an “infected giant” is a feat to be honored by, but heavy to bear. The lumbering bodily remains crumbled to the ground, soon dissolving to dust. She shook her head with great sorrow and turned to walk away. Pausing to bend down and wipe the crimson liquid off her blade, she stared at the substance as it slowly dripped down like the tears that fell form her face. After cleaning her weapon, she stretched her stiff legs and echoed a regretful sigh. “Goodbye my dear brother.”

As she wandered away, the constant cheerful chatter of multicolored air inhabitants rang hollow in her crack heart. Clutching her blade so that her knuckles turned white, she defiantly raised her fist to the sky, and cried with all the anger that had remained dormant within her for years, “Your life I shall take next, oh cursed cruel irony!”

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