Painted Hearts

The Legacy

In the world of Kalaidoskope, many claimed the gods above wanted to leave a connection between the worlds, a link that allowed one person to wield the powers of a god in order to protect or better the world in times of great danger. This link was crafted into a sort of weapon, a weapon that directed the powers into one central location. It's power was given to it through the gods but earned through the curse of souls- whether willing or unwilling was up to the wielded of the weapon- where souls were sacrificed to it to earn its amazing powers. This weapon was hidden away, unknown to man for generations; some went as far as to claim the weapon was hidden in an underwater mountain range, never really to be found by mankind for no one should wield such powers as that.

Explorers, warriors, and hunters alike searched for said legendary weapon. They hoped of crafting a new legacy for all of mankind, each with their own vision- knowledge, power, and riches. Maps began circulating the world as more and more people joined the hunt to find the weapon, none were successful. As decade after decade passed, talk of the wand became a distant memory as people began to focus on their own day to day lives once again.

But sadly, the villagers soon spoke of a group of Warriors, a group that apparently had some how stumbled across the weapon of the gods. A great group of people, strong and powerful. A society where the roles of people were reversed. They never attacked but instead hide away, festering in the woods growing stronger and stronger in the woods. They were told to be the greatest legends of all time- that is, until they became real. They rained down from the trees of my village, cloaked in red with their torches in the other hand. The men emerged from wooden shacks of homes armed with swords, javelins, and spears to defend their families and homes ready to fight any threat.

As they stared down the road, they faced a group of woman dressed in animal skin tunics that barely covered them, fur boots to their knees, and their hair fashioned with feathers of great birds, or the teeth, claws, and horns of great beasts as a show of their power. They wielded makeshift weapons as they stared down us from their spot at the villages gates.

Our chief laughed in the face of such a joke, the leader of the woman stepped forward wielding a small wand with ribbons attached to it. The ribbons reflected light and glistened in the light of the torches as it danced in the light breeze that caressed through our town. Our chief, the arrogant man he was, laughed to his men as he approached her making a mockery of her power. He stopped not even a foot away when she simply waved her wand forward, the small streamers gently brushed his skin and he collapsed to his knees seemingly powerless.

He stared up at her terrified as she rested her wand against the crown of his head. He screamed in pain as the wand glowed and a faint light seemed to seep out of our chiefs very being until he collapsed to the floor unmoving. The leader smirked as she moved the wand through the air the light slowly steaming into her wand.

She screamed out in a mighty battle cry as she raised her streamer wand high to the sky, her soldiers charged forward, anger and determination spread on their faces. Our men charged to them ready to defend all they loved and cared about, all to be squashed in battle, easily overpowered by the might of these woman.

The leader leisurely strides forward through town, any man who tried to attack was easily squandered at the power of her weapon. Fire, lightening, and pure light would emit from her wand with even the flick of it. Her soldiers continue to fight and conquer, they burst into homes gathering everyone in the town square. Woman and children scream and cower as they are pulled by immensely powerful woman. Men fight and try to fight but fail as they are thrown to their knees in the center of the square.

The leader continues striding forward her long red cloak billowing behind her. She waves her wand sending a surge of lightening forward to the center of our square where a statue of our chief has been erected. The statue melts instantly on impact, bubbling and collapsing into a molten pile of metal. She slowly steps from the ground into the stone statue, effortlessly gliding to the top of the statue.

She stands tall and proud on the molten remains of our once fearless leader. She surveys the town around her, buildings burning all around her, people being forced forward, men being forced to submit.

She spoke loudly with confidence only looking at us woman standing further away from the her with a sea of men on their knees between them. Her warriors stood behind the standing woman preventing any from leaving. "Join me or die." Her warriors began chanting and screaming, raising their weapons high to the dark night sky tainted with billows of smoke.

Needless to say, I joined the warriors and never looked back to this wasteland.

I shut the journal with a sigh and glanced around the burned down shack once again, the burned remains of child's toys and clothes remained and a small metal band laid on the table next to the journal. The band was about the sizes of my finger with a beautiful clear jewel on the top, I heard these were called engagement rings.

I slipped the ring into my pocket and the Journal into my knapsack before turning and walking out the remains of the door and walking down the beaten path, past the melted statue and back through the village gate. Above the gate was a sign with the villages name, Amazon. Thus came the name of these incredible warriors, the name of their first victims.

I turned and started walking in the same direction I had been before stumbling across this village. I continued walking away from the Amazon Warriors one step at a time.