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Secret society; Closed
Topic Started: May 20 2008, 01:10 AM (263 Views)
Mr. Trout
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It was never Atlantis. Everyone always presumed that any hidden island would be Atlantis, that it would have some amazing secret inside it. No, it was never Atlantis. That island was blown up by Nazis back in world war 2, Nazi cyborg gorilla shock troops. Of course if you told anyone the truth, they’d think you were crazy, or drunk, or both. Several well learned historians were sent away to nut houses because they actually knew what happened but no one believed them. Keep that in mind next time someone tells you the ducks are going to bring the moon down on Robert Downey Jr’s head because of his continuous mockery of their lack of thumbs, you’ll take them a little more seriously.

It had taken a long time of searching, and digging through old books of legend, but it had been found. A lost island said to only be populated by women. Isolationist xenophobic women that still worshiped gods whose names modern humanity could no longer pronounce. The legend of it had been passed down by generations all through the centuries, of the great island and the hidden powers inside. Of a civilization that continued and populated in stagnation due to the absence of an entire chromosome.

Perhaps it was that promise, that an entire civilization could exist that had never known a man was the drive that made our grand hero Eeth Hellsing to try and find it. Perhaps it was the hidden promise of some great power, or the legend of the dark gods that slumbered inside it. But he had set his sights on finding it. Much like the great explorers of old, he would lay claim to having discovered something that had hundreds if not thousands of inhabitants already. Quite an age we live in. The island was something special, unlocatable by sight, sound, smell, even the feeling in your gut would not be around there. No satellite no matter how advanced could see it, and no magic no matter how complex could divine its location.

The trick became finding the spots on the earth where it was numb, where no ability could discover what was there. It had taken three or so wild goose chases before finally arriving at the grand island. He approached it then, our Mr. Hellsing, in a tiny little rowboat, it traveled with the current towards the middle of the ocean. A soft thump echoed through the wood and our dastardly drunk Brit stood at the edge of the boat, cigarette between his lips. He waited there for a second, before inhaling deeply on the cigarette, and blowing the smoke out his nostrils. The thick smog of sticky burnt nicotine gasses rolled forward, clinging to the shore. This was the solid ground that his feet quickly touched. He didn’t dare go forward, an outstretched hand told him where the beach ended into a solid dome. So he turned back to the sea and sat down, deciding to wait.

Lucky for Mr. Hellsing he didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough a woman stood behind him on the beach. A golden blade flashing forward against his neck. The weapon hummed as it hung in the air, exactly the way that weapons don’t. It was a weapon of pure energy, even Eeth could figure that out as he puffed thickly on the cigarette. His breath let out smoke as he rolled his eyes back to try and take a peek at the person who was greeting him. As he tried to move the energy weapon pressed harder against his throat.

“Why are you here?” It was a female voice, a strong, hardy voice that was filled with a mixture of fear and hate.

“Because there was a here to find.” That was Eeth’s brilliant reply. What else was he going to say with a weapon pressed against him? It was best to just let her handle things for now, to go along, to remain mysterious and flamboyant. He still had a lot to learn.

(to be continued)
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Mr. Trout
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People across the world would have called our civilization strange, and to them they are right. We have always been, since the days of a world dominated by Atlantis, before the Roman empire, barely after the emergence of man we were there. A glory filled island of warriors, by some cruel gods delight, an island nation of female warriors. It is no mystery what caused us to rise here, the way we did. Beneath our city slumbers the god who made us, who made much of the world. A creature whose name we cannot pronounce, even as guardians and temple priestesses it remains a mystery to us. We only know that it made us (we can only call the great god an it, for what are genders to something without them?) and that it made us to wait, to rest until the time came to take control of the world.

There were many legends about our time. About how the time will come when the walls crumble and an ambassador is sent out, a single one of us that will show the world dominated by men that we will not be silenced. And when that ambassador has humbled the world, the rest will leave the island, and take their rightful place in ruling the world until the time that the great god beneath us awakens and arises. This is something every child is taught, what every warrior strives for, and what I have been prepared for my entire life.

I am the daughter of the queen of this island. As such as it can be called. When a woman of this island reaches a certain age, several hundred years (as our lives are several times longer then those of mortal men) they enter the bowls of the city, to the hidden catacombs that existed before time. There they pray out to the slumbering god, they touch a part of it and in doing so another is created, their daughter. When the queen went down, she performed this ritual and left the catacombs with me. Because of my position, I was the obvious favorite to become the ambassador, I was trained harder then the rest, I was pushed farther, I was told to always be better, stronger, faster. I was also spent more time with the tutors.

The greatest tutor on the island, was sadly the oldest. When she had come of age and went beneath the city to speak to the god she had not been granted the gift. She had left childless and hopeless. Perhaps it was because of this that she took a shine to me, that she taught me the secrets no one else could know. It was from her I learned of the lost prophecy, the one that could soil the great purpose of the island.

While the walls stand tall, while the world goes out oblivious of the entire world, before we choose our ambassador a man will come. Well, it is assumed to be a man, as the character that stands on the ancient stone tablet is long warn. This man will come to the island, knowing where it is without seeing it. He will breathe out smoke and fire like a great dragon and reveal our existence. Through curiosity and fear he will enter the city, that he will best our greatest, and only the one to defeat him will be called our champion and ambassador.

The story doesn’t end there. The man with the breath of a dragon, the characters in it join with another, and from then on in the story he is called godslayer. Missing tablet doesn’t tell us why, but from the name it should be obvious. He is the only one that can kill the one whose island we live on, whose power we rest inside.

I remember this story, I have read the tablet. The people alive besides me and my old tutor no longer believe this story exists. So I continued in the path set out from me, I fought my sisters of the island, in clothing and masks marked only so that we could be identified as masks and friendships could not be harmed or seen. In the end I was clearly the greatest warrior our island had to offer. As such I was gifted by my mother with great bracers, metal bands on my arms that with the focusing of thought sprung forth with weapons made of flickering energy. A gift from our god of course.

Safe in this assumption that I would be the ambassador when the time came, I waited, I trained, I became familiar with my knew godly weapons. Then the news arrived. He had come, the man in the sea, who breathed smoke with fire and had found our island. I knew what it was, though no one else believed me. I volunteered to go out the door, to defeat him and bring him in.

I did. He sat there unmoving as an energy blade pressed against his neck. He questioned but in the end I said nothing that could be avoided. Language barrier was not a difficulty, our great god had provided our minds with every language outlanders could speak. He spoke a simple one that only could communicate hate well. I believe it is called English. I took him inside our city as prisoner, brought him to the great coliseum to be humbled, to kneel before the queen and be slain as only I, the champion of our island could do.

It was there that he spoke to the entire island. I had been weary of him before, from the stories, but now, now I feared him.

(to be continued)
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Mr. Trout
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The girl that took Eeth from the island was rather fetching if he did say so himself. When she finally spoke, in that strong commanding voice and told him to stand up and where to walk, he felt every bit of his body decide that was a very good idea. He followed her inside the invisible wall, a small hatchway not too far away was the way in, he had to remember its location, for it was also going to be the way out. She led him forward, through a city of marvels. The buildings alone, one could spend a lifetime simply staring at them. They were made from polished marble, at least at first glance, but inside each bit of stone was a zigzagging framework of a metal that Eeth had never seen before on his travels. These metals provided a skeleton, that the marble seemed built on. With it the buildings, the entire city was made in such ways to boggle mathematicians. Each building was built to appear perfectly proportioned, to meld together as you got away, to present the city as a great spiral.

Eeth dreamed of seeing the city from above. But there were far more dangerous things to do. He was led to the center of the city, the dead center of the spiral, and was not surprised to find a great open arena. With grand arches and sharp angles that when combined made the entire building appear seamless, as if cut from a single giant stone. The ground was sand, but of a different consistency, this sand was rough when you stood on it, but soft when you landed. It was clear what this was, this was an arena where people were made to prove themselves, to do great feats, but built so that even a mistake would not take a life.

The building was a great circle at the center of the city, the city was built around it. It didn’t take a brilliant anthropologist to figure out that these people, whatever they were, found what was done here as the most important. Of course Eeth knew that he was in no fantastic shape, that he was not the perfect specimen of humanity, of meta-humanity, he simply was a chain smoking bastard. But he stood there, proud, waiting for what they could give. High up there was a high seat, any person in any living civilization could tell you, that whoever sat in the grandest chair was probably the most important, either that or the richest. Either way that was a good place to focus.

Eeth was not disappointed, a regent looking woman, her hair heavily graying, but her skin will taught and toned sat in the chair, staring down at him. He was being judged without a word. Okay old chap, Eeth thought to himself, time to take this matter into your own damn hands.

“I’m what you’d call an adventurer, an archeologist and a general hero in the outside world. So now, no one else has been on your island and lived to tell the proper tale, I’d like to be the first.” Eeth gave a good smile, a good act. He had already been spoken to in a more guttural form of English, but it was English regardless, so he knew they could understand him, at least on some level. He gave a wonderful smile and took a deep drag on his cigarette, breathing out a thick hail of smoke. The girl from the beach stared at him again, so he did the only natural thing and gave her back a wink. Her eyes flashed something he wasn’t used to, they showed fear and snapped back to attention to the older woman high up.

“Humble him.” That was her reply, those two words from that regal mouth. Said in plain English in an attempt to frighten Eeth. He most certainly didn’t like the way she spoke, or the fact that the woman from earlier was now charging at him with a fist raised. Why couldn’t it ever be easy. Eeth bellowed a wave of smoke up at her, she was obviously not used to smokers, her face winced and she fell forward enough for Eeth to give a swift punch in the side to her. She dropped to the ground, too shocked to fight properly. Seems no one else had stood up to her with any effort before.

“Come on luvs, cant we all just have a pint and talk about this?” More came forward, a rush out of some door he had never seen before. They marched forward in masks, colored to look like beasts, demons, monsters to disrupt the concentration of their opponent. Mr. Hellsing had no other idea, he was out numbered and greatly out gunned, so he sucked in the remains of his cigarette and blew out a friend. A comrade in arms. He reached into his pocket and removed another of the sticks, sucked it down and released the smoke to make another. An army against two was a better chance then an army against one. Oh yes, he only planned on having the smoke clones battle these females. He himself was out to escape.

He didn’t look back as the female hoard billowed down on his clones. He ran as fast as his smoker lungs could carry him. Crawling up a great tapestry up the wall, climbing through the stands, to shocked warrior women of various ages. The sounds of the crowd made it clear that it was a slaughter below, that his smoke clones were getting the crap kicked out of them. That didn’t matter. He ran forward, right up to the high mistress in the big chair.

“Now, luv. We’re going to have a long, long talk about why when I came here being all nice, you had to go and have people attack me. I could understand it if I was drunk, or got a girl pregnant, or hell if you even knew me well. But you just called it ou-“

Eeth didn’t get to finish that sentence. He was punched in the face really really hard. That old woman had the meanest left hook known to mankind, and she took him down, he lost consciousness and was going to be in big trouble when he woke up.

(To be continued.)
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Mr. Trout
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The man who breathes smoke and fire had bested me. Bested me before our god, the queen, my mother. It was a cheap shot, no being who saw the event would argue that point, but he had one with a single blow, forcing me onto the ground. I was out of that fight, not because I was injured, the only part of me wounded was my pride. I had to watch him, to see what this outsider could do. I watched him breathe out more smoke, breathing life into it, he became more then. Creating two other selves as my valiant sisters rushed to avenge the dishonor done to me.

They battled imperfectly, sloppily, fighting without valor or training. Even our youngest had superior forms then these fake beings. Yet they held their own, striking out without mercy in flailing moves were unpredictable and unconventional. We had no defense for it. Of course they couldn’t last, two lanky men who flailed about against a hoard of my greatest sisters armed for war? It was an axe that defeated the first one, slicing him in half. But where we expected blood and pain we only got a waft of smoke, the body vanishing as it was struck. My sister didn’t know what to do, she stood there stunned and confused.

The other fell beneath the crushing force that was my sisters, vanishing into smoke for any number of reasons. By then of course my eyes were focused, and I searched for the man who had the breath of a dragon, I watched him climb upwards and meet my mother. He tried to say something, tried to use force, but was met simply with a single blow to his jaw. I had seen my mother bend steel with a single touch, undoubtedly the punch should have killed him. I had to rise up there to check myself. My sisters didn’t stop me, it was my duty as the daughter of the queen to make sure she was safe, and to hold the prisoner until the guards arrived. That was what he was, a prisoner. He had humbled me, and rose up to strike the queen, I knew what was in store for him, we all did. A very public execution.

I waited then, until the night came. There would be no point in trying to speak to my mother before then, she hated outsiders and spoke often about the time when we would rise up and slay them, conquering the world. There was no mystery that she wanted to kill him there and then, but she was very religious, and believed the man who breathed smoke and fire had to be sacrificed to our god. When the sun fell beneath the horizon I left, the bracelets around my wrists were covered by a great black cloak, an attempt to hide myself from the gazes of my sisters. I had to know the truth, those ancient stories filled me with anticipation and fear. It was not with fear that I descended the great stone staircase to the hidden vault where all great prisoners were pressed away. There I found his cell, where he waited staring upward blankly at the ceiling.

“You! Stranger who breathes smoke and fire.” This was to get his attention, and it did. His eyes rolled across, his head focusing out on me, bearing into my soul with a great pain I didn’t believe possible.

“I have a name.” He spoke, his voice thick and heavy, without the levity, the joy of his grand performance earlier that day. His head rolled back, ignoring me again. I was afraid, never before had I seen a man up close, but he was different. He wasn’t at the edge of his bars demanding his release like all my sisters who had been forced to be contained.

“Please, my mother over reacted. I have come to hear your story fairly. You are the first outsider to ever set foot on the island.” My words seemed lost, a long pause of nothing. It took a long time, as if the man was chewing over my words, but eventually he sat up, spun around and looked me square in the eye. He dared say the one thing that I feared he would.

“You want to talk. Get me out of here.”

So I did.

(To be continued.)
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Mr. Trout
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Eeth was free. It didn’t take much then. The warrior woman who freed him he recognized, to be fair it was one of only two women he had gotten a good look at on this island. The other one gave him a good sock to the mouth, he could tell the difference. This was the one who had caught him out where he had landed, and had brought him through the city. As far as he was concerned she was the closest person that he could trust on this island. So when she freed him he only made two demands, firstly he needed his cigarettes, and secondly he wanted to know the entire history of this place. The former was easy enough, whatever these people were they weren’t big on bluffs. His stuff waited in a simple pile and as he plucked a cigarette from the pack and lit up, she started spewing everything she could think of.

The story was pretty basic, he had already guessed half of it. It still bothered him that he was the only man to ever set foot on this island by the sound of it, and for the life of him he couldn’t even get a second look save from this girl. Problem with that plan was that this girl looked like she was more then willing to break old Mr. Hellsing in half for no real reason. So the British bastard puffed on his cigarette listening to her speak as she led him out of what was clearly a prison, though it was as sparkling beautiful as the rest of the damn city.

“Better take me to this god of yours.” It was like a knife through the night. Eeth knew it, but the girl looked out in horror. Her jaw quivering in a sharp stutter as she tried to understand why any being would seek a council with her god before their time, let alone an outsider. Eeth, clear in his resolve stared her down until her voice tried to rise out of her throat but was silenced, in moments she nodded a defeated yes. It was the dead of night, and save for the light that came from Eeth’s smoldering cigarette there was no light to be had, seems even the moon had abandoned them this night.

The catacombs beneath the great city were like the rest of it, tall and winding. But where the city spread inward, this spread out. It spread out, walls fell apart, deep down there was only one large open building, and a deep pool at the center, separated from the oceans but no doubt as deep. There was no surprise that the god as they called it was deep down in there. So our man Hellsing marched towards it proudly, stopping only to tell the girl to turn back, that she didn’t want to hear what was going on, what was going to be said. She did, something deep down made her listen to Eeth when he gave good advice, something much of the outside world had stopped doing ages ago.

It was common sense out there, don’t listen to Eeth, he’s just a drunkard! It had taken him years to get such a reputation, for people to stop asking him to save the world or get bogged down in whatever great ‘war’ was showing up that week. No one suspected he had talents or skills, that beneath that fool exterior was something that should frighten men, mortal or not. He liked the façade, for people to believe him to be a nothing, no one ever noticed him when he was up to actual work. Like now, on the verge of a pool on a secret island in the middle of the ocean, that held a separate pit of water that went deeper then anything man had known.


“Wakey wakey you tosser. I’ve got a few questions and you’re going to answer them.” Eeth looked down the trench, to see the edges of something deep and almost indescribable beneath the water. It could only be seen out of the corner of his eye, no matter where he looked. The crawling, throbbing tentacles that twisted and screamed out with agony. They writhed towards him, Eeth aware of their movement by the smell, the rotten smell of decaying flesh and vomit. Then there was the voice, the voice was buzzing in the back of Eeth’s skull, a vibration unending that echoed through every cranny in his bones.

“How dare you come here.” It was one of the most horrible feelings Eeth had ever felt. From the pit of his stomach to the balls of his feet he felt queasy, like he should turn around, run, and not stop running until he was on the other side of the globe. But even an entire planet would not be enough distance between him and what lay before him.

“Right well. You’ve been a naughty little bastard haven’t you? Raising an entire civilization to try and make this world right and proper for you. All while protecting you as you squirm your little diseased foot through the door.” Yes Eeth, insulting the horrible monster is a good idea.

“Little shit. How dare you speak to me like that! I was birthed into existence long before your galaxy was even a spec of imagination!”

“Huh, to talk like that but you don’t do shit against me. You must still be pretty bloody weak still if you’re just going to hurl threats and not do shite about it.” Then Eeth did something just down right horrible. He flicked his cigarette butt into the murky water, watching it sink down towards the entity that lived there. So it was too weak to fight him, to even send out a token fighter. That meant it was damn weak enough to banish. The lad removed a bit of chalk from his pocket and got to work, marking all around the great pool. Which was a lot harder then it sounded, damn thing was nearly the size of a football field.

It took more then an hour for him to do it, the entire time there was that voice raging inside of him, that voice echoing through his body trying to distract him, to stop him from finishing his work. Beads of sweat were falling freely from Eeth as he marked, as he started with the ancient symbols and styles. He felt the beast there reach into his mind, to figure out what he was doing, who he was, and what he did every day on this planet.

“A living Hellsing. Foul breed.”

“Keep yammering fucker, pretty soon you’ll just be a stain on the carpet.”

“You remove me, this civilization dies.” Was it a bluff? The creature was in Eeth’s mind, not the other way around. It could have been telling the truth, or it could be holding an entire civilization hostage. Then again it was about to get kicked out of this plane of being, wouldn’t it try any trick it had to not get the boot?

“And every time I wank off god kills a kitten.” Yeap, Eeth was calling the bluff, even if it was in his own bullshitty way.

“This is a civilization of only women. I make the next generation. You get rid of me, they die out. Simple as that.” The damn thing was right. But our grand bastard Mr. Hellsing kept up with his work. He got around to the end there now, the signs all set up to rid this plane of existence from this little critter. Even Eeth couldn’t kill something that was spread out so much, that was alive even in death.

“Well tough shits to them then. They can enter the world and be better off for it. Blasted xenophobes.” He took a step back from the brink of the pool then, drawing a small pentagram around himself, with all the right sigils to enhance his power and focus his words. It didn’t take long after that, for him to say the right words, to drain himself of his inner power, to force magic through the great runes, and send the dreadful ‘god’ back out of this plane of existence.

It left with a shriek. A mind shattering painful shriek like nothing Eeth had ever felt. He fell to his knees then, then down to his face. Passing out as the world around him whirled and broke. A cold sweat rolled over him as the tired shout of an ancient god was forced out by one bastard. It rocked the whole island, everyone on it had been touched by the howl, they were on their knees, even the mightiest of warriors. The realm was shaking and it was only the one girl who went back to the catacombs, ignoring Eeth’s earlier command. Good thing she did too, or poor Mr. Hellsing would have been lost beneath this ancient city, instead of being pulled from its depths as it shattered around him.

(To be concluded.)
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Mr. Trout
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The rumbling shook the entire city, my sisters ran out into the streets. Trying to survive or come to a conclusion on what was going on. We were a godly island, never before had we been touched by earthquakes, though we knew of them. Certainly we weren’t idiots or unskilled in the way of the world. We had just never experienced such things, it shocked my sisters. I knew what it had to be, the only thing that was changing in this world, the only thing that could shake us to the foundations. My mother probably also knew, probably would come down into the catacombs herself soon enough. I simply had to act fast.

I was down those great stairs without a second thought. I felt cold then, rushing into the great emptiness beneath the city where our god lived. What I saw there would have been unforgivable had anyone else had seen it. I saw something else in this, a man who had come to the island, who knew great truths, who nearly died to free us from servitude and lead us out of stagnation to our destiny. He was a god slayer, and without our god keeping us safe, held close to its unknowable bosom, there would be no more doubt, I would be the champion, the ambassador and the world would open before us.

The man from before, he was laying on the ground, surrounded by a white chalk outline of a star and other strange symbols that were no doubt his own. The great power I had always felt when entering the catacombs was gone now, it was just empty. A cold emptiness that overflowed my body with fear, I wanted to run, I wanted to flee, hell I wanted to chew off my own arms. But that was the weakness in me talking. The part that every warrior should be ashamed of having. This was a comrade, a man who had come to the island and tried to set things right, it was my duty to find him safely away.

That is the entire explanation for why I was wandering through the streets now, with an unconscious man on my back. That is the story and I’m sticking to it. They were all out in the city, staring at me, wide eyed with fear and loathing as I walked up and down the streets, trying to find the exit, to send this man home.

“HALT!” The voice echoed through eternity, the one voice that would have turned stone to mud, gods to pig shit, and the shame the sun into a tiny distant star. It was my mother, the queen of us all. She stood in the road trying to block our path. The world shook again, the walls to the outside world were quaking, crumbling in the distance. I could hear them in the distance, falling, the screams of my sisters echoing through the darkness as their world fell apart. All the while their queen stood tall, stood fast, stood in my path.

“Stand aside.” I spoke, mustering up all the strength I had left inside me, all the courage I could muster. But she was immune, she was too used to people obeying her command. My mother stood, hand outstretched, commanding me with every thing she had.

“You will stop, and that outlander will die for what he has done!” She called out, I knew she was serious, everyone knew she was serious. And I, for even thinking about defying her would end up either dead, or dethroning the queen, that was just our way. She stood in place, wide stance ready to fight. I took this time to remove the man from me, to place him to the side, out of the way, his limp body waiting like a bloated ragdoll. She came at me, and I raised my bracers, the weapons and symbols of my victory. I tried to make them weaponize, to burn with the power that they once held, but nothing came of it. They were strong certainly, but they would not put forth the great energy, become the blades to help me fight. Instead I got punched in the chest.

The wind was gone from my lungs, my eyes rolled to the back of my head, I couldn’t see what was going on, and though I knew what would happen, years of training taught me what would happen, I was not actually able to see it coming. The queen grabbed my hair, lunged me forward, her knee rising to crack me in the face. I felt the warmth, I knew it was blood, the fluid falling from a nose that was definitely broken by a honed, powerful blow. I waited for another one, but it was stopped. There was a loud crack and I felt my mother let go, shuffle backwards. It was a brief respite, but it was one that let me suck in air, I was able to focus with this quick breather, and was shocked by what I saw.

He was on his feet, not only that but he had thrown a punch, hit my mother in the face and stunned her. It was a sloppy formless punch, made worse by the fact that my mother didn’t even have to counter to win that encounter. He merely took a step back and started shaking his hand wildly, obviously he didn’t realize that we were trained to take these blows. Dumb bastard had hurt his own hand. But it gave me long enough, one strong blow, that’s all I needed, that’s all I got. With all my might I rushed forward, my hand balled into a complete fist and rammed it up into my mother’s chin. She went flying, screaming through the air and bounding into the heavy buildings of the city.

The walls didn’t stop her, she kept traveling, through building after building she went, finally stopping somewhere deep into the water on the other side of the city. The man had gotten things right then, his hand stopped hurting and it was his turn to slide my arm around his shoulders and carry me forward. Through the throngs of gathered sisters. All kneeling, paying their respects to their new queen.

He reached the waters edge, pulling out a strange small metal device. He let me go then, and I turned away to my people. They had followed us through the city, the entire culture gathered before me at the ruins of the great former wall that protected us. I did the only thing that made sense, I addressed my people, as the soverign they wanted.

“The walls have come down. The world knows we are here. I will go out into the world, and make room in it for us. This city is no longer our home! It merely is where you will live until the proper time as you can join the world at large.” It was a short speech, but one important enough for their history. It had taken a single day and night, and this single stranger in a cheap suit had changed my entire civilization and life. It took me a while to notice it, the blue boat skimming across the water, seemingly piloted by no one. In this the man stepped, holding up his hand for me to follow. I took it, I joined him on this new quest.

We left my island then. Setting across the great ocean for whatever reason there was. There had been a little while before he, the god slayer, lifted out of his pocket one of those small sticks and began to breathe smoke and fire once again.

“So, how would you like to save the world?” Was the only thing he said.
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