I'm so sorry. So like a few weeks ago, I told the amazing EsmereldaDryden I would update "tomorrow". I, in fact, did not, due to several things, including writers block, my idiocy, my laziness, and the fact that I have been dragged out to several social events unwillingly. Here this new chappie is, and I'm afraid it's rather disappointing, as it doesn't flow well and It's basically crappy filler. Again, I'm sorry. Soon, I may put up a pic of Alys, though! I have several drafts but I can't get the eyes right, aggrh. Without further ado, here it is. *drumroll*
A TWERKING TURTLE!
No, I'm just kidding, it's the chappie.
A pit bubbled quietly, crimson blood mixing with milk, honey, wine and water. Alys took a deep breath and raised her hands, sprinkling barley into it. "Mortuos, magnos heroas, iuvenesque senesque, in auxilium voco. Surge, magne Agamemnon, et pugna!"
Her voice was soft, yet seemed to echo throughout the hotel room. It had taken on a sonorous quality, something about it rising in intensity as she repeated the chant. Over and over, so quiet and yet deafening, over and over and over until the ground quaked and split.
A glowing spirit drifted out, mostly formless. It drank from the pit.
A sudden convulsion struck the spirit, as its features came into focus and it took the form of a man holding a sword. He shuddered and spoke in Ancient Greek, words barely a whisper, rasping like dried leaves in autumn. "Who has called me to life?"
His scorching gaze swept the room, landing on the dark-haired girl.
"It is I, great Agamemnon. I am Alys Vesper, descendant of Hades, Child of Hecate."
He circled around her. "You are female. And a sorceress."
"Yes."
"You wish for death so early, child?"
"What? No, no, can we just spar? Like training."
"That is what you called me from Elysium for?"
"Um, yes."
He looked rather disgusted. "As the Lord of the Dead's descendant wills."
His tone made it very clear that if Alys hadn't been the descendant of Hades, he'd have gone back to Elysium or worse. She was a very scrawny 11 year old, after all.
Alys decided she hated him.
She drew her katar, and he advanced with a flurry of blows, testing out her defences. He was obviously trying to gauge her skill. Okay, Alys could work with that. She made herself seem weaker, dropping most of her guard, and he started getting more confident.
And then, suddenly, she attacked. For real this time. Slicing, ducking, dodging, she whirled around Agamemnon, and when he least expected it, she sharply drew up her leg and kicked him in the crotch. Obviously in pain, he stumbled away, and she followed up, blow after blow, (all of which he managed to block, what the absolute cheesecake?)
Most people forgot about unarmed combat while swordfighting, which was just plain dumb. Sure, she had a large sharp metal thing, but why on earth would anyone bother tiring themselves out when you could just play dirty and weaken people?
The clang of metal echoed through the room. At one point, half the curtains were accidentally sliced off;another time, the pillow on the lavish bed was stabbed through the centre.
Nevermind, the hotel staff would take care of it magical cleaning powers or something.
Eventually, somehow, Agamemnon dragged her by the hair to the floor. wHICH WAS JUST MEAN!
YOU ARE READING
Souls, Spells, and Shadows
FanfictionAlys Vesper is three fourths god, which isn't as awesome as it sounds. Her power just means she's hunted by monsters - and haunted by the shadows of her past. Join Alys as she journeys through a world of gods, monsters, villains, and heroes, help...
