Rise of the Supernatural Heroes (Mystical Warriors book 1)

A STRANGE DREAM

Fire rose upon a grassy field. Flames rose upon the horizon. Heat moister and steam covered the sky with dark clouds. The sapphire sky turned into crimson. The trees and animals were engulfed by the smokes of fires while humans were surrounded by battling waves by the raging seas. Terror was struck into the hearts of men and women.

The scent of Fear and Anger was in the air. The ancient planet was in total despair.

Anger ruled with utter terror with an army of fallen humans who turned away from the light at their death and were spirits reborn into their own bodies but with monstrous heads.

Anger was named Årvondor; a soul of a dead human turned into physical form that represented the nature of a chaotic rule while Fear was in the shape of a black fire.

Årvondor was dressed in black robes, a cape in black flames, a crown with shakes on his head, and his skin and face were glowering with red and black glows. His bare hands were dark as the night. His heart was completely empty; a heart that is black as darkness.

Corruption bloomed in his eyes as he saw his work completed all over planet Earth. The living humans were slaves to his will. Suffering plagued the human race with selfishness, greed, and pride.

Suddenly, breezes started to come from the fires. Humans in heavy metaled armor, with wings bright as the sun, submerged out from ashes of dead plants and bodies. Spiritual powers of these armored humans had made the fires disappear into thin air. Plants were rising up from the ashes. Animals were seen running again, free from danger. The panicking humans still living were silently calmed and overjoyed with the appearances of the armored humans who came out of nowhere.

Hundreds of these armored, winged humans had appeared and battled against the reigns of Årvondor and Fear altogether. Fear disappeared while Årvondor was standing alone.

One armored, winged human had approached Årvondor. He removed his helmet to revel a bald head with waves of raven hair on the sides and a thin beard on his chin.

"Rin, my brother," said Årvondor's deep, saggy, evil voice.

"For too long, you have been prowling this planet freely," yelled Rin. "Far too long, your jealousy had consumed you and your soul. But no more, you shall all with the other souls you taken from this planet. Mystical Warriors, attack. Send the evils to the fiery abyss of the planet."

From Rin's side, thousands of humans called Mystical Warriors, who were purified souls of dead humans, defenders of the planet, and servants of the light, rose up as the sun had risen from the east.

The brightness of the golden sun stunned the gazing eyes of Årvondor and his monstrous army of corrupted souls. The Mystical Warriors charged on the ground and flying in the air and drove the evil souls away from the surface, to the Earth's core.

However, Årvondor remained where he was. The light may have blinded him but that wasn't enough to get rid of him. Årvandor's strength was near unstoppable against the powers of the light of pure beings. He has power to withstand the might, but he doesn't have the power to withstand the light.

"My brother," said Rin, vigorously. "You shall not have dominance over the planet."

He charged to Årvandor, drawing a black sword from his back.

Årvandor, who was still blind by the light, manage to see glimpses of Rin's attack and swirled him backwards.

But Rin had the might had one hundred thousand humans and a divine bond with Mystical Warriors that he was ten times stronger than Årvandor and did a counterattack. Årvandor's swirling attack back on him. Årvandor fell backwards as Rin used the black blade to attack many strikes across Årvandor's body.