Origin Stories seem like a good place to begin a writing "Career" of sorts, so here I am. This isn't really a chapter, it's more of a sample to see if the public thinks I'm good enough to continue writing. Please give some feedback...*Nods*
The sun’s last fingers crept along the celestial blanket high above the castle town of Doma, painting the sky red with its dying breath. The moon prepared to take control of the kingdom his brother once reigned over, sending forth his army of stars to secure the land, eventually rising triumphant in the canvas of the inky night. The child of light and heat still kept his hold this hour though, calling to those who fear the darkness where thieves and murderers hide, to shut themselves inside their homes and nestle into bed, awaiting the rise of daytime and another time to work.
        Such was the scene in Doma, townspeople scurrying about like little mice, eyes and mind both on one object. Taverns and Bars slowly opened their doors to the crowd, the sight and smells of ale and unwashed masses; waiting to bellow and jeer with their drinking buddies, meeting all who pass by. Demons, dragons, angels, knights, mages, all common in this region of Gaera, also went about their business, sometimes in the guise of a normal person approaching a shop for last minute household items, or returning to the castle after a hard days work. This city was always active though, even at the latest hour, taverns would close and drunkards would scour the roads in search of more drink for their palette.
        A certain being hung from the roof of a bar, his knees bent carefully around a supporting beam. His cerulean eyes swirled with the darkness of a demon as he watched another creature of the night with scrutinizing pupils. This demon swayed gently, apathetic to the world around him. The lip of long black trench coat also dangled along this boy, kept afloat by a mysterious force in the air, magic. His shadowy hair swung back and forth, hanging from his head in large spiky clumps. Murky Blue jeans, long and baggy, covered his legs, bending around the beam also. They easily hid the top of his dark hiking boots, laced up and moving back and forth idly.
Azure diamonds followed the other creature in the bar, blinking in a lazy fashion. His lips drifted slowly apart, then closed again. The rodent, skittering across the floor, turned its nose up at the young demon and sniffed curiously. The interests of a rat being few, it continued along the wooden boards of the floor, lightly dusting the area with its tail before crawling onto the stone slabs that blanketed the walkway. Soon enough, it left sight.
The young man dropped from the roof and pushed off the bar top with his hands, twirling on his palm and landing on his feet with a certain wind-like grace. His shoes tapped lightly against the ground, his weight causing a slight creak in the decrepit boarding. He blinked silently in the night and disappeared suddenly, leaving behind only the smallest amount of pure black smoke in his absence.
Walking down the road to the Doman Castle, this nameless shadow clutched a mysterious weapon, a silvery blade adorned in crimson and sapphire tangles of color. The pole of the glaive was composed of a color only matched by the essence of midnight draw into a single object, the deepest of nothing. Sorrow and fear drifted from the blade, dispersing in the night, little demons hunting for more to angst to feed from.
This young man, with family bonds so strong in strength, beaten only by the pure hatred that seemingly forms them.
This young man, who will never see the pure light of happiness.
This young man, who will never truly be un-tainted.
This young man, going back to where it started, just to end it all.
This young man, Taiar Siru Valcrist.