Golden sunlight shone over the thick, primeval forest. Only a dappled haze permeated the emerald foliage. Sirius Woods, a labyrinth like forest that separated the walled city Aldebaran from the rest of the world. Visitors unfamiliar with the area would immediately get lost amongst the overbearing sorrel tree trunks. The rays that penetrated the thick grove caused optical illusions, distorting ones senses until it's too late. Ample wildlife lived within the primitive forest. Careless tracks were the only signs of humans once one would enter, and would disappear instantly if not careful.
Amongst the foliage at the top of the mighty trees, a 21 year old man with black hair with a white patch on the left side rested on a bulky tree branch. He slept deeply with his arms cushioning his head. Lightweight silver gauntlets and shin guards covered his arms and legs respectively. A midnight blue scarf covered his copper skin from the nose down. A large ebony cloak covered the top half of his body, and dark grey pants covered his legs. His light boots had iron soles at the bottom. A sudden rustle woke the sleeping young man. In an instant, he took out a revolver and pointed it in the direction of the disturbance. "Vania," the young man groaned. His voice was soft and powerful, yet devoid of emotion. It would captivate anyone who would hear it.
Sitting casually on the opposite branch was a young woman with auburn hair tied in a braid. She wore a white, button up shirt covered by an open olive jacket. Black trousers covered her legs up to her tan boots, and she wore fingerless tan gloves. Finally, a large pair of goggles with white frames dangled around her neck. A silver pocket watch in her coat pocket reflected the slight sunshine that permeated the emerald grove. "Yo, Drac. Feels like forever since I last saw ya," Vania greeted. Vania, the woman who can only be described as an enigma. She has an open personality that sometimes makes it difficult to ascertain whether she has an ulterior motive or not. Vania never reveals too much about herself, an enjoys meddling whenever she can. She is known to have a strange ability to appear wherever whenever she is called. While not an intimate or interesting one, she and Drac have a minor history together.
Vania often equated Drac to the ocean at night. A deep and beautiful sight that would cause one to forget about their worries at the moment. It appears to spread infinitely towards the horizon, painting an unparalleled masterpiece with the crystallized dreams in the midnight sky. However the evening winds bring a gentle and glorious cool, one that has a sad grace to it. Whoever gets too close should tread carefully against its treacherous waves. Its depths do not always reflect the same magnificence. Drowning within their vicious torrents, one can only wait for inevitable death within the chilling abyss.
Drac tucked his gun away underneath his cloak at the sight of the enigma. He positioned his body upright in order to face her directly. "So what do you want?" Drac was matter-of-fact in speech, saying only what's necessary unless its something really important to him.
Vania let out a deep sigh. "Man, you've really gotta work on that attitude of yours, man." Feeling disappointed, Vania continued speaking. "After all this time you still don't trust me. Well I guess that you're right on that point." In an almost singing voice, Vania stared intently at Drac's right shoulder. "How've you been, Iridim? Surely you can put up more of a conversation than this borderline misanthrope over here."
In response to the statement, a beautiful dragon with silvery blue scales and four wings manifested on Drac's shoulder. Her gentle white eyes stared intently at Vania. "How right you are, Vania," Iridim responded. "Sometimes I wish that he would open up to me more like he used to. These days he keeps everything bottled up inside of him." Her motherly voice showed more concern than cynicism.
"Right!" Vania replied in a giddy voice. She took simple pleasure in her short exchange with the miniature dragon. "Funny thing though, I just met this dude named Burster. Man he was interesting. He glowed all purple n' stuff, even his magic was interesting as hell. But I guess the way that he uses it is pretty bland when you look at the big picture. Even funnier thing though, I just can't imagine you getting along with Burster in any way, shape, or form, Drac. I dunno why, but whenever I think of you two in the same room together I just imagine you dudes restraining yourselves from beating the crap outta the other." Her amber eyes soon became locked on Drac's empty grey ones. "That reminds me." Her tone suddenly grew more serious with those three words. All presence of the playful banter ended as their eyes met. The tension grew between Drac and Vania as they continued their stare down. "I came here because I wanted to push you out of a tree." Golden distortions in space appeared next to Vania and behind Drac. The enigmatic woman pushed her slender hand into the ripple, pushing Drac out of the branch that he rested on. Vania stared in glee as she watched the young man fall into the labyrinth like forest. Satisfied, she stretched as while standing on top of the bulky branch, letting out a long groan in the process. "Sheesh, Laurice, will it kill ya to call me by my actual name for once? Bye Iridim, hope we get to talk again soon." Another golden distortion appeared at Vania's feet. With an exaggerated flip, she dove straight into the ripple, disappearing without a trace.
Drac struggled to maintain his posture as the he looked up at the large sorrel tree trunk. The enormous tree that he had rested on reached close to the sky, and falling the wrong way would mean certain death. Iridescent birds flew out of their nests at the sight of the black shadow, and furry mammals stared with curiosity. Drac stared at the orange leave covered ground as his fall became slowed. Slowly, his position was changed upright as he gently descended to the natural labyrinth. The fallen leaves crunched beneath his iron soles once he landed. A cool breeze blew throughout the dim forest. Though the sun was in full heat this season, the large foliage at the top only allowed small rays to reach the bottom of Sirius Woods. Its naturally cool bottom made it ideal for mushrooms and other types of fungus to grow. Somewhere along the fall Iridim had disappeared from sight. Drac looked into the dimly lit clearing that he had landed inside of. Poorly covered dry blood stood out among the dying leaves, and the scent of metal and gunpowder lingered in the air.
Frantic crunching of leaves echoed throughout the forest, drawing closer and closer to the clearing with every step. Dozens of more footsteps followed, declaring a more aggressive approach. In the next moment, a woman with blond hair and turquoise eyes came panting into the clearing. Her blue dress was shredded in many places, and her snow skin was covered in cuts and bruises. Her face was left untouched, but showed pure terror. Tears fell down her rose colored cheeks once she laid eyes on Drac. "Help..." she pleaded. Her voice was hoarse and barely audible from running for such a long distance. The woman tripped over something as she attempted to run towards her black shadow of hope. She looked down at her feet only to find a human skull missing some of its teeth. The fresh bone had maggots and other insects crawling inside of its eye sockets and cracks. A horror filled scream soon echoed throughout the desolate forest. Her face had grown even paler than before, and her breaths grew rapid.
"So this's where you ran off to," a threatening male voice stated. He had a heavy accent that blended the "S" sounds before stating the rest of the words. Immediately following, a short, bald man with rotting teeth and long nose hairs came from the trees. He wore leather armor with iron plates covering his chest and wrists. His tasseled kilt revealed long hairs on his thin legs. "That's too bad, lil' missy. You finally managed to escape, but you landed directly in the middle of our nest." The man took out a knife from behind him then licked it as he crept his way towards the panicking woman. It was only a few short steps before he took notice of the man standing at the far corner of the clearing. "Well lookie what we has here." Ignoring the woman, the hunchbacked man walked up to Drac with his knife in hand. "You's someone who don't belong here. Now how's about you run on home to you's momma before the big boys get here?" The man brought his reversed grip knife to Drac's groin. It was the only spot that his hunched body could reach. "Or could it be that you's actually wants to play hero and save that broad?"
The sound of metal hitting bone echoed throughout the forest. In an instant, Drac kicked the man's head, causing him to fly sideways. "Don't you dare use such an empty word on me!" he threatened. Drac glared in contempt at the man attempting to get up. The woman, no longer petrified, ran behind Drac.
Disorientated from the sudden blow, the man wobbled to his feet with knife in hand. A short, nasally snort came from his being. "Oi boss, we've gots a fellow with a death wish over here!" As if on cue, dozens of armed bandits flooded the orange clearing from behind the trees. They were all dressed in iron armor from head to toe, and carried a large array of weapons from spears to halberds.
A tall, burly man with a silver wolf pelt over his head entered the clearing, pushing through the weaklings. His large beard had crusted blood in it, and two heavy shields covered his shoulders. He scrutinized Drac intensely before speaking. "You seem pretty weak to be trying to play hero, boy," he taunted. Drac's right hand shook ferociously as he glared at the leader. His menacing gaze caused the burly man to shudder for a brief moment. The leader met Drac's unmoving eyes, determining what the best course of action was. He then signaled his men to encircle the two. Sharp iron spears and blades slowly encircled Drac and the woman. Inching closer and closer, the woman felt a primordial sense of fear as she nearly clawed into Drac's back. "Now, boy," the leader stated. "Do you have any last words?"
Drac ripped off his long cloak, revealing a black robe that extended past his chest engraved with white details. It was parted at the chest, revealing an iron chest plate connected to his trousers by a line of bullets that also crossed against his back. Beneath his iron plate was a long white shirt, covering his arms and tucking beneath the silver forearm guards. Four brown holsters decorated his waste, carrying two revolvers and odd, circular blades on each side. These blades were known as chakram, a weapon mainly used for throwing. They could easily decapitate someone or ricochet off of objects if thrown hard enough. The blade on his right side was a sleek ebony and cool violet, which Drac had dubbed "Requiem." On the opposite side, the other chakram was a glimmering silver and warm orange, named "Retribution." Drac drew his left revolver in a non-threatening way. The six bullet gun shined a beautiful silver with obsidian details and an engraving reading "Belial" on the barrel. "This weapon will decide whether you live or die," Drac stated boldly. The goons laughed at the declaration. He then threw his silver handgun into the air.
"This guys got a screw loose!" one of them snorted.
"This weapon will decide your lives!" another mocked. Drac passed off their nonsensical comments as empty threats. The playful banter was ended abruptly by a signal from their leader.
"Kill him," he ordered," but make sure that the woman stays alive. After all, she'll have us eating good for the next month!" A haughty laugh came from his mouth. "So long, hero!" With a hand signal, his subordinates thrusts their weapons at Drac and the woman.
"I warned you," Drac stated. The woman's deafening screech silenced immediately as the metal weapons pierced through flesh. Garnet blood pooled around the soldiers, creating shallow puddles staining the dying leaves.
"All bark and no bite after all," the leader commented. A haughty laugh nearly erupted from him when the sound of metal hit the ground. The subordinates that has surrounded Drac and the woman fell into the puddle of their own blood. The leader looked in horror at the wounds that his men had suffered. It appeared as if each of his warriors had betrayed one another in an instant. Drac and the woman were the only ones that remained unharmed. Bloodstained weapons floated out of the corpses to face the bandit leader. It was all to clear to him that he had made a mistake. In front of him was a man that could take out a dozen warriors without moving an inch. "Wh-wha..." his words could barely stutter out his commands. "What are you waiting for!" That loud shout brought the rest of his soldiers in line. "He's only one man! He stands no chance if you all attack together!" The outlaw's morale raised with that one statement. The leader then fired a gun that he grabbed from his backside.
Bang! Surrounding birds flew from their nests in terror, and the scurrying of animals followed suit. A heavy lead bullet zoomed its way towards Drac's forehead. Time slowed down for an instant. As it reached half the distance, it got caught in a magnetic field. Slowing down as it got covered in white sparks, the bullet stopped mid air by Drac's open palm. The surrounding marauders all charged simultaneously. There was no synergy or coordination in their attacks, making it easy for them to get stuck within various positions in the magnetic field. Drac's revolver finally reached the ground once again. The impact caused the trigger to go off, shooting a marauder who tried to sneak up from behind. In an instant, the battle was finished. A dozen men floated in mid-air, the other half were dead, and the leader, paralyzed with fear, fell to his knees.
Drac picked up his Belial and then walked with the intent to kill. Bloodstained weapons and nauseous men floated behind him. The bandit leader attempted to move back, but was blocked by a sudden spear impaling his leg. Writhing in pain, tears fell from his eyes. It was the end for him. This young man that he had underestimated incapacitated his best men in an instant. The hunchbacked man attempted to flee as well, but was knocked over by a floating marauder. Desperately trying to hold on to his life, incoherent babbling came from the leader's mouth. "Let's make a deal!" His gauche speech was barely audible. Drac stopped in his pursuit as he finally deciphered the words. "Inside of the tree behind that broad, that's where all of our treasure is. It's all yours if you spare my life."
Drac paused for a moment. "What about your men, leader?" His words inveighed a fatal blame.
"It doesn't matter what happens to them! They're all expendable. I can get as many as I want if needed." Panicking and unable to keep his sangfroid, the leader finally snapped. "So my life for all of our treasure, what do you say, boy?"
Drac released all of the men that followed him. "We have a deal." He turned his broad shoulders towards the tree hollow. However he stopped in front of the trembling woman who looked as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. "After all, it's not in my place to judge your heinous crimes." Drac placed his obsidian engraved gun inside of the woman's trembling hands. "To lay waste to your own soldiers in exchange for your petty life, now that is truly despicable." He walked past the woman and stabbed a whole in the tree, revealing a trove of luminous gold and other valuable items. "My revolver will decide whether you live or die, however I won't be the one pulling the trigger."
The woman's anathema was right in front of her. Mustering up strength in her trembling hands, she pointed the heavy gun at the bandit leader. For days she had been a slave to these hooligans that scourged her at every given opportunity. Her breaths shortened as she looked with her finely crafted turquoise eyes. In front of her was the image of a pathetic man, fearing for his life. However she couldn't bring herself to take vengeance. She grew past her hesitation and found an ultimatum. She returned the gun to Drac, who had just finished storing the treasure somewhere unseen. "Thank you," she stated. Freed from her earlier fear and anguish, the woman showed gracefulness befitting a noblewoman. With a curtsy in her disheveled state, she introduced herself to her savior. "My name is Helen Deaver. I am the first daughter of the Deaver household. May I ask your name?" Their brief respite abruptly ended when a large, wolf-like animal decapitated Helen from a sudden distortion.
Distortion, the general term for a temporary alignment between two worlds. They appear at random, rippling space and time for a few short moments. A myriad of things can come from them, including people, animals, and weapons. People with a strong cosmic flow that came from distortions often had their names engraved in history, becoming legends. Guns are a prime example of weapons that appeared. In this primitive world of Orion, simple bladed weapons and bows are the most common. Feared for their battle cry and instant death, studying and recreating the distorted weapons is forbidden. Finally, the animals that appear are by no means ordinary.