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Spark of Oblivion


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Spark of Oblivion

Hey guys KN here, I decided that I would like to start posting a fantasy story titles Spark of Oblivion. This has been a concept in my head for so long, it will be nice to get it out. It will be a mystery so no spoilers. -looking at you TS- enjoy

    Prolouge:

His footsteps echoed quietly against the cobblestone walls of the sewers that surrounded him. It was dark, darker than the deepest most shadowy depths of the Golorian sea. he doubted anyone, except the workers and the rogues, had been down here for a long time. He was here for a reason, His god had demanded a trip into the sewers, he had not been given a reason, but one does not question Rogues will lightly. Realizing it would most likely end in riches Araris had been happy to answer his lord's call. While deep in his musing of the riches he would receive for his loyalty, his sensitive ears picked up a low growling coming from around the nearest corner “damn rats” he uttered as he stopped himself short. “I hate rats”. Going into a crouch he languidly stretched his thin dexterous hand down to his black leather boot, where he kept his small silver knife, the blade was finger length and wickedly sharp it had cost him an arm and a leg, but then again silver draconite is far from a common material on Teros. As he Flipped the knife into a backhanded position, he smiled at the weight of his small glittering weapon, sensing the perpetual cold chill that always hung around the little blade. Holding his breath, he listened for the slightest noise, a slight snuffling or perhaps a mere scuffling. He strained his eyes against the dark his extraordinary vision from his eleven mother doing him no good in this almost unnatural darkness. Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, he heard a small yet audible squeak. He lashed out feeling the knife bite into something furry. Feeling a chill splash on his hand he recoiled. Careful not to trip lest he fall into the filthy water that ran merely four feet from him. A squeal of pain went up from the darkness, and using the noise as a reference point Araris struck out again, and yelped as he felt a sharp pain in his arm followed shortly by a warm sticky sensation. He moved the knife to his other hand, still feeling the fangs of the rat, now sunk deep in his arm twisting his good arm around he sank the chilling blade deep into the neck of the rat. WIth a slight growl from the animal, its jaws loosened and it fell with a lifeless thunk to the ground. Araris sighed, the bite on his arm throbbing with a dull pain. He knelt down and re sheathed his knife muttering to himself. He heard a weak laugh, and spun around. There was a flash as he reached for his boot, but before he could get a grip on the knife he felt a searing pain one that rent at his very soul, followed by oblivion.

Chapter one:

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