In light of some reason events, I have made the decision to take a break rp. It's pretty obvious to me that no one actually likes me and instead, just tolerate me. And I mean I honestly don't blame them. But maybe consider what someone else is going through before sending a message. I'm sorry if I've been a dick to anyone recently, I've just been going through some stuff irl, and frankly I don't know how much longer I can take it. I really hope this isn't a permanent goodbye.
Anyways, here's the 1st part of the sequel to the Syndicate Chronicles (I still don't know what I'm going to call it).
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A young man, perhaps around 15, sat hunched over a darkened mahogany table, its tabletop a slab of polished marble. His auburn hair flowed in unruly waves, draping over his chiselled face; Two piercing Aegean eyes followed his quill as it danced across some parchment. His silhouette was gracefully outlined by a grand chandelier hanging above him. The teen's chamber, situated in a Kensington garden mansion, was dappled in a chandelier’s soft yellow hue. The room was relatively small, only housing a few units of furniture. Azure satin sheets draped the room's walls. These same sheets wiggled and writhed as an unseen presence headed towards the man, still seated and scribbling furiously. Alert to the disturbance, he reached under the table where his hand found purchase on a ceremonial dagger, laced with intricate silver filigree; The figure emerged from the curtains and lunged for the seated man with a blade and a malicious intent. With a swift and practised motion, he ducked to avoid the oncoming sword and simultaneously propelled the dagger into the man's abdomen before retracting it and thrust it through the bottom of the attacker's jaw. Its lifeless figure crumpled as the teen pulled himself off the chair. Hearing the screams of staff ricocheting through the corridor, he concluded that the dwelling was under attack. After approaching a fireplace on the far side of the room, he reached into its cavity and firmly tugged on a concealed lever. The entire fireplace sunk into the floor, revealing a dimly lit crevice, long enough for one person to crawl through. Without hesitation, he descended into the tunnel, leaving the ongoing chaos behind as the fireplace seamlessly returned to its original position, concealing the tunnel to any onlookers.
“So you are telling me you're the legendary Merlin" Jack Wight inquired in disbelief.
“That is correct.” the teen beside Jack answered, a hint of frustration lacing his voice.
“I've always thought that you were just a story, a folk legend, a fairytale.”
“Well, do I look like a fairytale to you?” Merlin chuckled.
That still doesn't explain the talking owl” Jack inquired again
"The talking owl has a name mate,” the bird chirped with a watery burble.
“Then what is it?”
"Oh yes, I should have started with that. The name’s Percy" the barn owl announced.
They trekked in silence. After Jack had freed Merlin from his cage, using a key strewn carelessly across the floor, the group hastily exited the cavern, using a passage excavated from the fissures earthy confines. Since then Merlin was confidently traversing the maze of caves and tunnels.
"So where are we heading?" Jack asked.
"I'm trying to find the exit." Merlin said impatiently. "After that, a prophecy has foretold our travels ahead."
"Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be seeing you again. Once I exit this… place, I'll be heading back to my family." Jack affirmed sympathetically.
"Don't be so sure about that, we will need you for the journey up ahead"
"I'm sorry but I can't… It's been an entire year since I've lifted my daughter up or held my wife in my arms. I miss them more than anything. I can't lose them again, I won't! You'll have to complete this prophecy without me."
Only the sound of their synchronised footsteps echoing through the earth's subterranean levels could be heard.
"We've arrived." Merlin announced.
They had reached what appeared to be a gateway of some kind. Two columns, hewn from rugged stone, stood a metre apart; balanced above the columns was a third granite pillar. The air between the stones shimmered in Jack's torchlight, taking on a mirrored appearance.
Without an explanation, Merlin, with the owl perched on a scrawny shoulder, strode through the pillars and disappeared. Jack decided to follow him and stepped through the stone gateway.
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Oh, BTW my land claims will still remain so please don't be carving it all up.
