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The Purifiers

September 05, 2015

demoIn the Millennium of Purification, a group of Elves and Dwarves join forces to purge the world of the dark magicks they themselves once helped unleash. Is there a chance to make up for their sins of the past and restore order to the world? Find out in the serial fan fic: The Purifiers.

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May 05, 2015

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September 05, 2015

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The Sword Bearer

Nimdae awoke curled up in a ball.  His hands covered his face.  He pulled his hands down and looked around.  A grass field is all that surrounded him.  "Hello," he called out.  His voice echoed strangely through the empty field.  He continued, "Is anyone here?"  His voice echoed once again, but there was no response.  As he picked himself off of the ground, he wondered where he was and how he was going to get back home.  The sun hung directly over head and made it impossible to tell his direction.

Suddenly, he became cast in a huge shadow.  He turned to see an enormous black palace.  Its doors were wide open, almost begging him to enter.  He walked up to the doors and looked inside.  There was a circular room with mirrors lining the walls.  Curiosity drew him inward.  As he entered, the doors slammed shut behind him and cut off all light.  In the darkness, he could hear a sinister voice begin to laugh.  Nimdae started to panic.  Then, as if a beacon, a light shone in front of him.  It was soothing and calmed his spirit.  In the middle of the light stood a sword, its blade driven deep into the ground.  Nimdae could not explain why, but he sensed something mystical about it.

A voice called out to him.  "Awake, Nimdae."

Nimdae grabbed the handle of the sword and drew it from the ground.  The voice called again, "Rise and face your true destiny."

He looked at the sword.  Then, he raised it above his head.  Cracks of light began to form in the darkness.

"Awaken," called out the voice one more time.

Nimdae awoke in a cold sweat.  It was all just a dream.  It was the same dream for the past week.  Each night it grew more intense.  Something was definitely calling to him.  However, nothing seemed to make sense.  He was determined to find out what it all meant.  Yet, he didn't know where to start.  He tried his best to remember the details of his dream.  In the background, behind the black palace, he could remember seeing the Lepesi Mountains.  He had a strong feeling that he needed to go there to get his answers.

He walked to his closet and opened it.  In the corner, leaning against the wall, was a replica of the sword from his dreams.  He had commissioned a black smith to make it.  The sword was perfect except for the fact that it was missing the four jewels on the bottom of the pommel and the center jewel in the crossbar.  Despite his efforts, he could not find replicas of those jewels.  He began to pack a bag of his belongings.  When he finished he grabbed his bag and sword.  He took one last look at his home and then departed for the Lepesi Mountains.  He knew he wouldn't be returning anytime soon, but it didn't matter at that moment.

Nimdae awoke curled up in a ball.  His hands covered his face.  He pulled his hands down and looked around.  A grass field is all that surrounded him.  "Hello," he called out.  His voice echoed strangely through the empty field.  He continued, "Is anyone here?"  His voice echoed once again, but there was no response.  As he picked himself off of the ground, he wondered where he was and how he was going to get back home.  The sun hung directly over head and made it impossible to tell his direction.

He traveled for days before he finally reached the Lepesi Mountains.  He began to ascend the mountains.  When he reached their peak, he surveyed the land.  However, there was nothing other than the vastness of the Wasteland.  His heart sank.  After all of that effort, nothing was there.  He had been sure that there would be something to help him make sense of everything.  He turned in defeat, prepared to make the long trek home.  He wondered if it was all just a dream, nothing more.  Then, for a reason that lacks logical explanation, he turned back towards the Wasteland.  In the middle of a giant grass field there was a black palace.  He was sure that it wasn't there just a second ago, but there was no denying that it was there now.

He headed toward the palace.  Before long, he was at its massive doors.  From the size, no single person could move them.  He searched the other sides of the palace, but the only entrance was through the main doors.  He had come too far to turn back now.  Using all of his might, he pulled the handles.  With the first pull, the doors began to slide open.  Nimdae let go, but the doors continued to open on their own.

Inside was a hallway of mirrors.  Nimdae grabbed the handle of his sword, ready to draw it in an instant, and entered cautiously.  As he walked down the long hallway, each mirror reflected his image in some different, monstrous way.  Near the middle, one of the mirrors reflected his image perfectly.  He stopped and looked at it.  He wondered why this one was different from all of the others.  As he stared, he began to hear two voices coming from it.

The first was a female voice that sounded old and crackly.  "He is the one.  Death hides behind that face.  You must kill him quickly.  Do not toy with this one like you did the rest."

The second voice was male.  It laughed at the comment of the woman.  The laugh was the same as the one from his dream.  Deep and harsh, the voice sent a chill up the spine of Nimdae.  The man spoke, "This boy is the one?  He can't be more than twenty.  Look how scrawny he is.  I'm disappointed in you.  I believe old age has begun to play tricks with your abilities."

"Do not mock me, Alakar.  You will soon come to realize how right I am."

"You had me teleporting this whole palace from dimension to dimension running from, as you called him, 'Death's Shadow.'  Each time you tell me he comes closer and closer.  And now I find that your premonitions have ended up bringing us straight to him.  Not only that, but he is nothing more than a boy.  My patience with you grows thin.  Be thankful that I don't destroy you here and now."

"You still doubt?  Look at him.  See how deeply he gazes into the mirror."

Nimdae slowly moved closer to the mirror until he was face to face with it.  He touched it softly with his fingertips.  Suddenly, an image formed.  He saw a pale looking man sitting in a chair talking to an elderly woman with no eyes.

Alakar spoke, "It is almost as if he can see us watching him.  But how could he?"  He appeared frustrated.  He quickly waved his hand and the image vanished.

Nimdae continued to stare at the mirror, trying to understand what he had just witnessed.  He touched the mirror a few more times attempting to regain the image, but nothing happened.  He had begun this journey hoping that it would answer his questions.  However, it has only raised more questions than before.  After a brief pause, he decided that the only way to get the answers was to continue forward.

The end of the hallway turned into a forked path.  Two separate ways to travel.  Which way was the correct one?  Nimdae closed his eyes and focused.  Something inside him told him to travel left.  Without many other options, he listened to his instincts.  He turned left and continued onward.  The palace was a huge maze and he came across many forked hallways.  He searched it for hours.  Each time he came across a forked path, he would place his trust in his instincts.

Eventually, he came across a door.  He was able to sense dark forces from behind it.  He knew that it was where he needed to go next.  He tightened his grip on his sword and pushed the doors open.  He entered slowly.  Inside, he could see the man and woman from the vision in the mirror.  The man leaped up and drew his sword.  Its blade was pure black and stretched six feet in length.

The woman stood there calmly.  She had an evil smile.  "So tell me, Alakar, do you still doubt my abilities?"

Alakar shouted, "Enough, old hag!  Be quiet or I will kill you myself."  He then turned his attention to Nimdae.  "I'm not sure how you found your way through my maze of mirrors, but I'm afraid all you've accomplished is meeting your fate at my hands."  In his voice was a slight tone of fear.  Other than the subtle hint in his voice, Alakar appeared confident and ready.

Nimdae's mouth was dry.  He was too scared to speak.  He slowly drew his sword and held it firmly in front of him.  No matter what the outcome, he was prepared to meet his fate head on, even if it meant death at the hands of Alakar.

After seeing the sword, Alakar completely dropped his false facade.  Fear could be clearly seen on his face.  His voice trembled as he spoke, "That sword."  He paused for a moment as he composed himself.  He continued, "Impossible!  How did you get your hands on it?"

Nimdae looked at his sword and wondered what was so special about it.  However, he had little time to think as Alakar leaped at him, sword swinging.  Nimdae managed to parry it.  Alakar continued with a barrage of attacks.  Nimdae struggled, but managed to parry each one of the attacks from Alakar.  As he blocked Alakar's last attack, he could see the left hand of Alakar coming toward his face.  However, he couldn't stop it in time because he had been too focused on the sword of Alakar.

Alakar's hand stopped directly if front of his face.  Then, Alakar emitted a flash of light from his hand that blinded him.  He stumbled back holding his eyes with his arm.  Alakar took one more swing with his sword, intending to finish off Nimdae.  Without looking, Nimdae raised his sword and parried the attack.  However, his blade shattered on impact.

Alakar laughed.  "You almost had me believing the old hag.  But you've proven to me your true inferiority.  Now face the same fate as all who dare to oppose me."

Nimdae began to regain his sight when Alakar grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the floor.  The attack knocked the air out of Nimdae.  Alakar, still holding onto Nimdae's neck, began to drag him across the floor.  He tried to break free, but Alakar was too strong.  Nimdae could see a black mirror ahead of him.  That is where Alakar was taking him.  He struggled harder to free himself, but was unable to break the powerful grip of Alakar.

Alakar stopped in front of the black mirror.  He lifted Nimdae off of the ground and held him in the air.  Nimdae could feel his life being slowly choked out of him.  There was an evil smile across the face of Alakar.

"No Alakar," the woman interrupted.  "I know what you are thinking, but no.  Finish him and be done with it."

Alakar looked at the woman and then back at Nimdae.  Then, he threw Nimdae into the mirror.  When Nimdae hit the mirror, he didn't break it.  Instead, he seemed to pass through it and into a different world.  All that surrounded him was darkness.  The voices of Alakar and the woman echoed all around him.

The woman asked, "Do you pray for death, Alakar?  Why didn't you just kill him?"

"I've lived the past year in fear of 'Death's Shadow.'  I'm through living my life in fear," Alakar responded.

"You risk too much.  You forget the great destiny that lies ahead of you if you survive to greet it."

"My destiny is mine to control.  No one will tell me what to do.  Not you, not some silly premonition, and definitely not some scrawny boy."

"Yes, but you have drained your magical energies teleporting this palace.  You'll have no tricks left should he return."

"Don't be so foolish.  There is no escape from that dimensional prison."

The voices began to fade, but Alakar's final words echoed in Nimdae's head.  A "dimensional prison," that is where he was now.  If Alakar was right, there was no chance of escape.  Nimdae sat on the ground and tried to decide what to do next.

"Nimdae," a voice called out.  It was faint, but it was the same voice that called to him in his dream.

Nimdae stood up and tried to figure out who had called to him.  However, despite his best efforts, he couldn't see anything.

The voice called again.  "Come to me, Nimdae."

The voice didn't seem to have a point of origin.  It was almost as if the voice was all around him.  Nimdae turned around and began to walk straight.  He knew that he would find the source of the voice in that direction.  He was unsure of how he knew, but he knew.  As he walked, he tripped and fell.  He looked to see what had tripped him.  It was too dark to see at first, but as he examined it closer, he could clearly see that it was a human skeleton.  He began to wonder if this could all be some sort of trap.  However, he had to know.  He picked himself up and continued forward.

He walked for hours.  The voice still called his name.  The sound grew louder and he knew he was getting close.  Suddenly, he stopped.  He couldn't explain what, but he felt he had to stop.  He reached his hand forward and grabbed the handle of a sword.  Suddenly, he was able to see.  It was the sword from his dream, its blade driven into the ground.  With little effort, he lifted his hand and pulled it free.

An apparition appeared in front of him.  It was a young man with predominantly human features.  The main difference was his all black eyes and slightly pointed ears.  "Hello, Nimdae.  My name is Zhalos.  I am the spirit of Yagvu, the sword you hold in your hand."

Nimdae asked, "Are you the one who summoned me here?"

"The answer to your question is both yes and no," answered the apparition.  "One week ago, in your time, I sent out a psychic summons.  However, my message was weak and could not travel far.  Yet, you heard it at great distance.  No other was able to receive it.  Your own psychic abilities have kept me in contact with you since that time.  Each night you have summoned me.  Your psychic energies helped me to grow strong again.  You desired to find me; I have merely shown you the path."

"Now that I have found you, what do we do?  Both you and I are trapped here, in a dimensional prison."

"You still do not realize your full potential.  Your abilities far surpass my own, but they lie dormant.  They sleep until you find a way to awaken them.  Allow me to guide you."

Nimdae closed his eyes and opened his mind to Zhalos.  The two linked and became as one.  Nimdae raised Yagvu above his head.  The sound of breaking glass filled the area.  Light began to shine through cracks in the darkness.  Then, parts of the darkness shattered and began to fall like broken glass.  Nimdae was standing, Yagvu in hand, in the room with Alakar once again.  Beneath him were the broken fragments of the black mirror.

Alakar drew his blade.  His hands shook.  His voice trembled as he asked, "How?  How did you get free?"

Nimdae did not respond.  There was no need.  No answer could content Alakar, nor would it save him from his current path to destruction.  Nimdae stood calm and relaxed.  He waited for Alakar to make his move.  He didn't have long to wait.  Alakar leaped at him with a sword attack.  Nimdae, who was able to see the attack before it ever happened, parried it with ease.  Alakar continued his assault with attack after attack.  Nimdae was able to predict attack and parry it before a single one was able to get close.

Alakar began to swing wildly.  Nimdae could see that the normally cool and collected Alakar was out of control.  He knew Alakar no longer stood a chance.  With one motion, he knocked Alakar's sword out of his hands and into the air.  Nimdae placed Yagvu at the throat of Alakar and asked him to yield.  Despite his link with Zhalos, Nimdae still found the thought of taking a life repulsive.  Alakar grunted.  Then, he slowly lowered his hands.  Nimdae could sense Alakar's true intentions, but had to let the hand of destiny play itself out.  Nimdae lowered Yagvu and began to leave.  Alakar picked up his sword and tried to kill Nimdae from behind.  Nimdae turned and, with one strike, cut Alakar in half.  He looked down at the lifeless body of Alakar.  The battle was over.

Nimdae turned his attention to Alakar's companion.  She walked toward Nimdae and stood before him.  Nimdae debated whether or not to kill her.  She had an evil spirit and he knew she would cause him trouble in the future if he let her live.  However, he could not bring himself to kill someone in cold blood, no matter the reason.  Nimdae turned and began to walk away.

"You have killed Alakar," she commented.  "So what will you do now?"

He stopped.  "I will do what I was meant to do, find evil and stop it."

"Next we meet, what should I call?  Nimdae or Zhalos?"

Nimdae seemed shocked.  She knew both of their names.  She had abilities of her own, and they were strong.  Then he smiled and continued to walk out.  He responded, "It does not matter for we are one and the same."