Zephyr POV
"Hm, is that a horse and a...rider?"
Zephyr narrowed his gaze ahead. He saw a beige carriage manned by a rider dressed in cream and brown clothes approaching from the other end of the dusty road. From an initial glance, the fellow looked like a traveller transporting heavy cargo.
Once the fellow bore a little closer, Zephyr could see the youthful features a little clearer. Olive skin, with short black hair neatly trimmed and a round face. Their gazes met, and Zephyr was surprised to see the stranger forming an almost elated smile of relief to see him. He pulled his horse to a gentle trot. The approaching carriage slowly skidded to a complete halt a few feet away.
Zephyr dusted his clothes down before expertly dismounting his horse. He proceeded forward but immediately noticed the youthful face cautiously and slyly observing him.
Still seated atop his beige horse, the fellow strangely remained unmoved for a short while before slowly climbing down.
"Greetings, uhh-friend?" said the well-spoken boy.
His voice unsurprisingly sounded just as young as he looked.
"Say, you don't happen to know where I might find the next town of populace?" He asked with a cheerful smile
Zephyr's brow lifted ever so slightly against his usual expressionless mask. A small realisation surfaced before he held out one of his heavily wrapped hands and gestured towards the sloping narrow path.
"You just came from that way." He replied coolly. As far as he knew, the nearest town was along the road he was heading towards.
The youth looked slightly troubled to learn that, but his cheerful countenance quickly restored itself after a few moments of thinking. A question seemed to bloom in his thoughts.
"My name is Cero. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And your name is…"
Zephyr studied the youth for a few moments before responding in a flat tone.
"Zephyr."
"Ooo, nice name. Zephyr-Zephyr, it sounds a little familiar. But I can't put my finger on why that is." Watching the smiling youth purposefully dawdle was beginning to irk him. Luckily, he made a pact with himself to at least try to be warmer to others. He read somewhere during one of his many personal studies on ways to appear normal to strangers. One of the most important aspects of a normal childhood was friendships between youths of a similar age.
Despite the apparent show of deceit lingering in the youth's shadow. Zephyr understood these experiences would pave a more profitable way for him along this journey of fixing the broken social norms he was staved off by his conditioning.
As his childhood had ushered in a general practice of murder in silence, Zephyr was under no illusion that this journey towards 'being normal' might be an uphill task. And so, Zephyr's goals thus far had centred around searching for remedies to correct the wrongdoings of his very bloody upbringing.
Amidst his daydreams, he was oblivious to how many times the fellow had tried to get his attention.
"Say, friend, we could go as a single unit. D-don't mistake me; I wouldn't want to trouble you, but…"
He felt a cold prick against his wrist, but he pretended not to have noticed and continued forward. Zephyr passed slowly beside the medium-sized wagon covered with a large beige covering. His eyes narrowed, catching sight of tiny dark, wet droplets dotted against the sandy stones. Zephyr purposely turned his gaze away. His blue eyes paid extra attention to the round-faced youth still smiling from ear to ear.
"Hm, sure we can travel...together Zero, was it?" asked Zephyr
"Cero!" The youth snapped slightly out of his chirpy character.
A brief smirk tugged at the corner of Zephyr's mouth. He strolled boldly towards the young man and held out his hand. The two clasped one another. The handshake was firm, but Zephyr quickly noticed something. His brow lifted as a rouge thought strayed through his mind.
"Say, hardly see anyone braving these roads. You not from around here, I take it?" He queried curiously
"Hm? Braving you say, are these plains that dangerous aha. More of a reason to remain together then right." Suggested the boy called Cero.
Zephyr would usually agree, but there was an underlying problem here.
"It's about 20 miles to the next town." Said Zephyr, slightly peering around the youth towards the lonely winding road stretching away from him.
"Hm, that so? I guess time flies when you're riding for so long, Ha-ha-ha."
Zephyr scanned the youths' clothes carefully. There were hardly any traces of dirt against his bright robes. His brow narrowed in deep thought, and something made him steer his attention towards the clothed wagon again, this time to the side of the dust road. The moment he locked eyes upon it, he felt something wrong.
"Shall we be on our way then?" Zephyr performed the brightest smile he could muster and hid away any concerns he carried.
"Aha, Yes please, shall you lead the way?"
Zephyr nodded to the request and swiftly twisted around on his heels to rejoin his horse.
"Wait here, i'll get my-"
The sound of iron sharpening iron cracked behind him. A smile tugged at the corner of Zephyr's mouth. He dropped low and carried his momentum forward. At the same time, his hand swooped down and gathered the slender metallic rod pressed against his hip. He unhooked the iron from his belt and tossed it. The sounds of electricity hummed away from him.
Zephyr twisted on his heels, gathered his entire weight beneath his soles, and shot forward; he blurred through the air like a shadowy leopard.
He blinked once and bore upon the youth who had caught hold of the lightning rod with his bare hands. Zephyr first noticed that same cheerful smile spread sinisterly wide against the youth's face. He sensed something and swiftly narrowed his brows; he noticed a long metallic scorpion tail emerging from behind the youth.
He stretched forth his palms in response to seeing that. Quickly, his fingers formed the somatic expression of the darkness element. He wrapped his middle finger around the index. And formed an O shape with the other hand.
[Rank 0 - Shadow Cats Breath of Night]
Before his mouth finished muttering the incantation, he sucked in a large breath and blew through the o-shaped hole. A breath of darkness burst forth. Before the clouds of black consumed the boy, Zephyr caught the look of shock just before everything turned dark.
The shadow moved around him like a living being. Zephyr felt the baleful energy stir over his skin. To those born beyond the secret black hills where his family castle stood, the darkness was something to be feared. But to Zephyr and those also with the blood of Utano running through their veins, the shadows…were practically like their kin.
[Shadow Step]
Metal cut through the air. Zephyrs' movements were almost inhumane. As he expertly evaded and squared his feet sideways. His arm dropped, and a second black rod fell out of his sleeves. Zephyr's eyes flashed open; he saw a clawed hand covered in poisonous-looking gas bearing his way. He struck first, and his pole punctured flesh.
[Black Flamingo stance: 4 steps]
He released his grip and ducked low enough to wriggle past the youth's outstretched arm. Along the way, his elbow struck the boy's bone.
"One."
Zephyr ran against his toes and moved even closer like a bird on land bearing sight of its prey. The youth still held onto the first rod Zephyr had thrown earlier. He snatched the other end and pulled it closer. The heavy clouds screened around them and howled mercilessly.
Zephyr felt a coldness almost taunting his soul to sink deeper into his sleeping ire. The shadow elements' potency for negative energies was an endless hunger. Zephyr hated to feed on it. He carried too many memories of shadow users turning into blood-hungry slaughterers. And despite the unavoidable scent of his very nature, Zephyr rejected the hatred. He would live freely without bearing the sins of the killers of his family name.
Electricity rode against the black pole and ran up the youth's arm.
"Aaaaargh!" Screamed the boy in agony.
A dark voice growled from Zephyr, "I won't be contained, 2."
Zephyr reclaimed the second pole and yanked it free. He dove straight towards the boy; the pole splashed blood against the beige robe before ferociously impaling him in the stomach.
"3"
He pirouetted to his right side and snatched the pole away from the boy's grasp. Then he aimed for his heart and drove his final attack clean through it. Despite the thick shadows circling them, Zephyr could see the bulging whites in the boy's eyes.
He exhaled softly, stepped back and watched the morning light gradually disperse through the shadows. Zephyr took a step back and examined the body. Blood soaked through the once spotless robe, gradually pooling a puddle of carmine beneath his feet. The boy was stiff as a log, and his eyes sat glaringly open. Zephyr watched with a complicated expression as the lights dimmed away from the boy's eyes.
A cold shiver ran down his arm suddenly. Zephyr bit the underside of his bottom lip. He was still not comfortable with killing; his mother would mock and scold him if she saw him like this. Despite the unavoidable dangers surrounding him at every turn, Zephyr never desired to kill. He smoothed the furrowed creases between his brows. A dark light glazed over Zephyr's gaze. His mother was hellbent on forcing him to carry out her desires for him, one way or another, it seemed.
Zephyr clenched his fists tightly and exhaled coolly to relieve the tension writhing around his body.
The living darkness was at its most potent when he committed such acts. Zephyr gave the dead body another complicated look. He was no younger than he was, and yet his life had ended due to a death call. His gaze turned cold whilst he remembered the very nature of his mother's side of the family.
Their way of thinking was simple enough to understand.
If they couldn't have him.
"Then no one can." A sardonic smile creased against his lips once he said that to himself. Those exact words had been retold to him by his mother. But so be it. He wasn't going to bend or break under their pressure. His fate and his own way of life were in his own hands. Zephyr fastened the special rod against his belt and steered his attention elsewhere.
"I'll make my own destiny. One way or another."
He shifted his cold gaze towards the concealed carriage nearby. Ever since he first laid eyes on the thing, there had been a growing sense of something dark exuding, like a poorly hidden scent of death. One of the unnatural habits shadow weavers adopted was the acute sensitivity towards things of the underworld or the very real evils lurking beneath the veil of magic that surrounds everyone.
Zephyr called it a curse ever since he felt the ghostly shadows of the dead roaming around his castle at a young age.
He straightened his posture before he moved forward with caution. His fingers unhooked the long obsidian pole away from his hip again. Zephyr counted 8 seconds before he reached it. He peered against the thick sheet wrapped around the entire carriage.
A growing sense of danger prickled against his skin. He finally reached the carriage and steadily held out his shaking hand. Cold sweat sleeked off his brow as he suddenly twisted his head around. A strange green mist poured out of the dead boy's body. The gas made a squealing sound and turned into a thick paste, hardening in moments before it twisted into the shape of a thorn. A tiny bud grew out of the tip, and a pink bud the size of a human head bloomed and coifed into a dazzling pink and white Lilly.
The bud crawled out of the flower, and a small human eye glared at Zephyr.
"You fowl little boy! To cut one of my children down like this. You will repay me with your organs and pretty blue eyes."
Zephyr grimaced at the hideous thing. He blinked once more and raised his black pole out to one side.
{Black Foxes fire}
A black flame snapped against the metal and drew a line of fire against the shimmering rod. His movements were swift like a panther as he stabbed forward, plunging the iron into the base of the green creature's supposed body. The eye jerked forward. Red veins swarmed over the whites of its round eye before a douse of black flames engulfed its entire body.
"Heh-ha-he-haha- you think this ends here! You rotten Utano Brat! If I have to chase you down to the ends of the earth- I WILL! But mark my words. I wizard V will have my-."
Zephyr slammed his rod into the shrivelled eyeball, turning it into a bothersome paste against his weapon. He exhaled a deep sigh and massaged his temples. He had only been away for a few weeks and had already incurred some kind of blood feud.
He knew the assassin was likely sent by his mother, and he knew this quite confidently. But he already knew there would be no point trying to prove that. These assassins would likely rather die than suffer the retribution of his mother's clan.
Zephyr twisted against his heels and noticed his stead had fled back up the sloped hill. He breathed another regretful sigh.
Between dragging himself back up those hills or dealing with whatever monstrosity dwelt beneath the wrappings of that cloak slung over the carriage. Zephyr wasn't sure there was a positive between either. Perhaps he should just decide on the one less likely to kill him.
Zephyr chose the route of less provocation as a result, and began making his way up the hills again. It was better to keep his nose out of trouble whenever he could.
He could only hope that would decrease the chances of him running into danger, although he inwardly didn't buy it. His grandfather once told him superstitions were sometimes a fun way to understand life. For now, Zephyr would lie and pretend until his life changed completely.
Just as he turned his back against the carriage, a wheezing voice called out from his rear. Zephyr faintly heard the words 'help' in a distorted gargle beneath the cloaked carriage. He chose to ignore it; he shook his head from side to side to dispel the nerves before continuing up the sloped hill towards his horse. That prickling sensation never stopped until he rode a good enough distance away from that carriage.
All in all, Zephyr was pleased that his journey had finally begun. He only now hoped he was sensible enough to survive the troubles coming his way.