Why Is It So Damn Complicated?


Flare stood, silent and very very still. This a couple years after Silver Mountain was destroyed. Since then he only traveled with Azureray, picking up everyones stories and legends writing every one down, about Blade and his death and becoming. Also of the sword and the warriors who battled him to their untimely end.

He was clad all in leather, with a darkened leather cape hanging from his shoulders. The lighter tanned skins were around his chest and legs, his brown hair was flowing freely, quite a little bit longer than what it previously was. 

He stood, again, looking at the vast disruption of rocks, looking for the one who had fallen that day.

He turned, watching the grass waver slightly in the wind as he walked in a fast pace. Azureray followed after him, nothing more than a well trained pup. His attitude had changed for the worse, now he was a loner and didn’t care about finding the rest of his kin anymore. He didn’t even believe he had a family, he just searched for a way to destroy Blade.

Sensami had proposed to him last year, and in turn he cussed her out, told her off, in all the horrible ways he always should have done. 

The orange in his eyes were no longer a flame kept alive by hope, the orange was dull, and very very lifeless. He continued to walk, still moving more quickly. Eventually, he broke into a run, leaving the tired Vaporeon behind. 

Two strong arms picked up the tired blue creature and swept her off, with the rustling of a black cloak back into the jungle area.

Flare stopped and looked back, finding his companion gone. He shrugged and kept on running, never caring about the outcome of the creatures disappearance. 

Many stories, told of Metallic Mountain, where he would find a sword, strong enough to defeat Blade. Only he, could pull it out and deal the finishing blow to the stupid animal. So now, he was heading towards Metallic Mountain, and each day he saw that he was just a little bit closer to his goal.

This day, he was at the foot of the mountain. It shone, bright like crystal, but it was as dark as Onyx. 

The whole mountain was like that, no trees, no grass, nothing but rock. He placed his boot on it, and started to climb up the the very top. 

He climbed non-stop for hours, reaching the small cavern where the sword was supposed to be. He took a deep breath and stood, summoning up all his courage to step in.

“I can’t let you progress with a cold heart.” A voice struck into his mind. He turned around, finding someone with a black cloak, wrapped completely around them, a black cape floating in the wind, a silver sword sheathed in the black case tied around the beings waist. The eyes were of piercing emerald green.

“Cold heart nothing. I am here to destroy the one with a cold heart.” he spoke with courage.

The persons hand moved, taking out daggers from a hidden place towards its right. 
It threw one, missing his head. He smirked and turned around to look where it landed. 

“Nice miss...” he smiled maliciously, but that grin was soon whiped off his face, when he felt 4 more daggers pierce his shoulder, back, and leg. His hand swept back, pulling each one from out of his skin, a gush of blood being poured onto the leather.

“Who the hell do you think you ar-” he was cut short, seeing the creature rush into the cavern.

He dashed after it, almost overcoming it but being lost in the darkness. Never the less he pressed his way through, alerting all of his senses to watch for anything. 

A dim glow of light was all that was shown as a torch was lit, then carried through the caverns. He followed it intently.

Walking into a large lit part of the cavern, after many hours, he blinked. Scarabs were carved into the walls, as well as unown symbols telling stories and legends. Pictures from the old old legend map Dark Storm once carried were engraved onto the rocky walls. Everything was a golden colour. 

In front of him, was a door, with a lock. It acquired a key to be able to unlock its secrets. Flare dug into his pockets and took the key,  fitting it in the lock and turning. It popped open, a doorway opened into a pure crystal white room. It blinded him.

Inside, the being with the dark cloak stood, sword drawn, to face him. 

He unsheathed his own sword, three feet in length. Both blades shined. 

“Who the hell are you...?” he asked again.

The figure said nothing.

“Tell me now...” he said again.

Nothing.

“Then you’re going to die.” he stanced, and charged at the black figure.