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 Lost - Chapter 6 |First Blood|

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Matthew
High Council Member
High Council Member
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Posts : 938
Join date : 2010-05-26
Age : 21
Location : Realm Of Magyk

Character sheet
Name: MOD Matthew
Race:: Semi-Immortal Being
Occupation/Hobbies: High Councellor of the Council of Elders

20111011
PostLost - Chapter 6 |First Blood|

 
First Blood



Months had passed and Atre would soon be initiated, first blood happened tonight, he had been forged a soul dagger just hours before. This was to be the culmination of two years' work. He was exited, his on-hand palm was sweaty on the hilt of his new friend. First blood would seal the bond between knife and man, making the dagger an extension of his arm. He made for the cathedral, his target would be inside.
 
He arrived at the Cathedral soon after, the prayers were still happening. He moved up to the closed doors and examined them. He decided the best vantage point was the roof of a nearby building, Atre would need to follow the target somewhere less public. He climbed up and checked for nearby guards, they would be problematic if he was spotted. He had been given no description of the target, only that he was in the cathedral. 
"The knife will do the rest", They had said.
He found this confusing.
"How could a knife show me who to kill?", he thought.
He put the matter to rest, and sat down on the roof. The prayers were nearly over.
 
The prayers ended, and the people came out. Then Atre saw him, the target. It was just a gut feeling, but then he doubted himself. 
"Is this the right man?", He thought.
"Can't be"
Then Atre heard a feminine voice whispering right behind him, He turned around, slashing at air.
"Nothing", He thought. "I'm really anxious, I need to calm down."
 
The whispers came again, he listened intently this time. The words were like none he had heard before.
"Etá ô ghùèra, Atre nœ æcù, Æcù cí nètàn? Etá ô nètàn.", Said the whispers.
He didn't recognize the words, but somehow knew their meaning.
"Etá cí løckè, nètà réqí æcù.", came the voice again.
He looked at the rapidly dispersing crowd, he needed to find the target soon. Now he had two problems, he was going mad, and he didn't know who to kill.
"Ecœlí", said the whispers as Atre's eyes fell on a richly clad, rotund merchant.
This was the target, he had a sudden burst of excitement as the thrill of a game insued.
He knew what to do. 

The knife had spoken.
 

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