Legend: Origins

[Kirun Wolf]

[center]This is my first submission for a creative writing forum.[/center]
[center]You are all welcome to comment on anything.[/center]

[center]Please, tell me what you think of my writing![/center]

[center][b][size=6]Legend: Origins[/size][/b][/center]

[size=4][b][spoiler=Prologue[/b][/size]]

[size=3] In the eternal dusk that marks the end of times, only solitude grants reprieve from chaos. The subtle breeze that drifted across the field would be so calming given difference circumstances. Yet the breeze carried with it the stench of death – stifling, nauseating and relentless. Kirun stood, a still shadow in the moonlight, gazing upon the fallen. As he breathed in the harsh air, Kirun took a step; the sound of crushing bones breaking the otherwise serene silence.

As he walked across the field of battle, Kirun could feel it. That feeling of emptiness that accompanies only the lonely; the sense of imminent misery that the misanthropic lament; but this time was different. That dense, heavy emptiness that had for so long filled his being had transformed; rather, it had expanded, for Kirun would no longer remain confined to the loneliness that existed in his heart. No, he had finished his task. The universe was now empty, void of life. For this day had marked the final battle; and Kirun, the Chaos Knight – the harbinger of death – had emerged victorious.

Kirun gazed upon the fallen, taking the time to look into every pair of eyes he could find. Soulless and unrelenting, the eyes that stared back were nothing more than physical manifestations of mass. One set in particular caught his attention, and as Kirun stared into the eyes of a young woman, possibly even his age, he thought he noticed a subtle movement. He felt a heaviness in her gaze, and knelt beside her. Looking closely, he noticed her lips her moving, silently beckoning the envoy of the end to listen. Kirun brought his lips close to her ear, and whispered; almost inaudible, softer than the wind, his voice was soothing amidst the surrounding death. He placed a hand softly beneath her cheek, and slowly turned her to face him. Bringing his lips close to hers, he paused, letting her eyes scan his own. Those hazel eyes burned into his, then scanned his lips; her tongue flicked out softly, moistening her own – a reflex, but a telling one nonetheless. Kirun leaned in, and pressed his lips against hers, weaving softly to match a rhythm that was slowly fading. She faltered, exhaling harshly, and as he stared into those hazel eyes, he saw the glimmer dim; laying her gently among her comrades, he rose.

Kirun scanned the dark, and closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. His charcoal-brown wings, though frayed, momentarily spread from the chill that traveled down his spine. Slowly dropping to his knees, Kirun lay the sheath of his fabled weapon before him. The katana had been with him through everything; and as he drew it he noticed that even in this miasma of darkness, “Black Dragon” emitted its soft, legendary glow. This moment should have felt different. In any other circumstance it would have. Kirun felt nothing when he drove the blade through his own heart; as his existence faded into the consuming dusk, Kirun let out a soft sigh, meeting eyes once again with those of the hazel warrior-ess. Then his vision blurred, and not wanting to keep death waiting, Kirun closed his eyes for the final time.
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[spoiler=Part I - Dreams]

I’m falling.

Everything is dark, but then again my eyes are closed. Did I close them out of fear? I can’t remember. I could just open them…but I don’t want to.

Why not?

Drip. I felt it on my cheek. A warm drop of rain, a solemn herald of the imminent storm; I dare not move as it traced its way from my cheek down to my chin, finally coming to rest at the base of my neck, whereupon it was absorbed by whatever clothing I wore. I mourned its passing; the lonely drop had been my only window to the outside world, and now it was gone.

Drip. A second friend, this time arriving on my shoulder. I contemplated opening my eyes, but the thought was fleeting, as an intense chill darted through my body, indicating once again that sight was not an option.

How did I get here? There must have been some…mistake. I strain to recall my previous engagements, but I am interrupted by a foul stench creeping its way into the deep recesses of my nasal passages. I gag.

I’m starting to feel scared again. Again? So I was afraid, but of what? I long for something, anything, to break the heavy silence. I strain to relax my eyelids; they have grown tired from being shut so tightly for…so long? How long had it been since I closed them?

Drip. I rejoice. A momentary reprieve from the surrounding abyss. I feel a softening in my body, as the tension which had been building up since my last guest had visited my shoulder.

Drip, drip, drip. The rain feels good, and the foul stench that had so rudely pervaded the air is softened. Low and guttural, the rain calls out to me…

No, not the rain. The sudden realization that I am not alone paralyzes my body and mind. All of my being trembles as the dark thoughts that accompany the unknown, those demonic creations of the imagination that terrorize the lonely, seep into my mind. I strain both to listen and to not, lest I be beckoned once more.

“Kirun.”

I hear my name. This voice – this horrible, foul voice! I cannot run, I cannot hide; all I know is that every inch of my body is quivering, repulsed by the creature from whence the call originated. Even worse, as I strain to control my fear, I feel the creature coming closer.

“Kirun.”

The rain is calm, steady; but what was once my only reprieve has begun to transform. Slimy and texturized, the rain sticks to my body; I feel filthy. I cling to the silence now; compared to the terrible voice I welcome it…so long as I don’t have to hear…

“Kirun.”

My thoughts are gone. I feel those cold dead lips inches from mine, and as I put a thousand faces to the tormentor in front of me, I sense a stillness; fear has gripped me whole, and I know the time has come.

Drip. Down the bridge of my nose, a drop finds its way into the crease of my lips. Reflexively, my tongue darts out, gliding across my upper lip, gently gathering up the droplet. As I carry the lone drop back into my mouth, I notice a familiar taste. Blood.

My eyes fly open. A storm of blood falls from the sky. Red in a sea of charcoal; the abyss is alive with a surreal lighting of unknown origin. The shock of sight momentarily spares me, but then I see its face.

Inches away from me, staring me in the eyes, something I could only describe as what used to be a person smiled unrelentingly. Hair, matted and grey, unceremoniously fell over its face, but did little to mask it. Its smile, jagged and mocking, dared me to look into its eyes. I cringed, trying to stop myself, but I knew what was to come.

“Kirun.”

Into its eyes I gazed, as the beckoning of the voice was irresistible. Emptiness, sorrow; the smile had been a lie. Worse than evil, worse than pain; these eyes carried nothing but the promise of salvation through death. I was lost in those eyes; I knew I could not look away, and as I submitted to their will they challenged me, daring me to look away, reminding me of the final piece of the puzzle.

Drip, drip, drip. I was free from those cursed eyes for as long as I willed to search out the source of this blood storm. My eyes turned upward, scanning the darkness. I had been tricked. Those eyes, those hollow eyes, had betrayed me to an even worse fate. For just beyond my reach, hanging by their own entrails, were the bodies of my loved ones. My mother, father, friends and lovers all hailed me as they coated me with their warm blood. Into their eyes I gazed, and one after another greeted me with only sadness in their eyes. They were still alive.

I screamed; but I can’t even hear my own voice. Caught somewhere between those eyes and the shower of blood, I close my eyes and cry. Never again. I will never open them again. Slowly fading into the deep of my subconscious, my only salvation shall be in my dreams.

I’m falling.
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[Kirun Wolf]

Man, a week with no commentary. That's just... harsh.

[Kōsuke Ueki]

I have to admit. This is something I've never come across. This story sounds like it would actually become a book. If you still intend on continuing this, I'd like to see more. However, one thing I'm wondering about is what exactly is going on in this story?