Difference between revisions of "Not the Hero"

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(Chapter 11)
(Chapter 12 - Epilogue UNFORMATTED)
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{{NPC Text|title={{center|1=<span style="font-size:18px;">Chapter 12: Epilogue</span>}}|text=
 
{{NPC Text|title={{center|1=<span style="font-size:18px;">Chapter 12: Epilogue</span>}}|text=
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Epilogue
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Brian plunged down the throat of the magical portal stretching beyond the limits of his spell. The gateway accelerated his descent and added strength to the pulling forces of the reversed telekinetic spell. He traversed the other opening and fell on his side. The portal on his world had been in the floor, this opening was vertical. He scrambled to his feet still feeling the universal tug of his enchantment. The strength was great enough it started to slide him back toward the gateway.
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Taking no time to look around, he enacted his traveling spells and attempted to run off only to be affixed in place. The tug of war between him and the beings of darkness had begun. Struggling to even take one step forward he felt the tow across the known planes creating an ever-growing friction between the two worlds. Despite all his might, he strained against the invisible gale force wind, only to slide backwards suddenly and draw closer to the portal. He could not let it pull him back into his world. To do so would unleash the horror of the Dark Lord and his new army solely upon the Earth. His vision wavered and he saw the image of Aura in her golden yellow hair only twenty feet from him. She smiled and beckoned him closer, but he slid right to the edge of the event horizon of the portal and stopped.
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A crescent flash of red leapt from the stone gateway and Brian’s body. Feeling stronger, he began to make his way toward the young girl he helped kill. He pulled as hard as he could his muscles straining, ripping from bone. Each step was harder than the previous yet he still persevered.
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Aura begged him to succeed.
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He felt the shift in energies and the power faded. He cut his traveling spells instantly and only rocketed about twenty yards before tripping. A handful of burnt Nightcasters tumbled through the gateway first, followed by the Envoy, and lastly the Dark Lord Ockham.
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They fell upon each other in a mass of bodies, arms, legs, and wings. Exhaustion tackled Brian sending him gasping for breath against the alien ground. He could not even stand. Looking for Aura, he noticed she had left him in the hell he deserved. Finally, her soul could rest; her murderer was paying the price.
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Brian suddenly realized he had to close the portal and do so immediately. A blue recovery aura emanated from his trench coat washing over him and he felt his endurance and strength returning to him, but it was not enough. He cast a failsafe spell allowing him to sacrifice the magicks in his new uniform to fuel another spell. He stood remembering he still held Thauma’s phone. After taking a deep breath, he again cast his long researched telekinetic spell. He mentally modified its shape creating a large focused blast aimed directly at the gate. The spell hit instantly pulverizing it into dust. Brian collapsed completely exhausted from the spell casting and from the shockwave that blasted into him.
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The Dark Lord and his Envoy were also tossed by the blast. Brian heard them growling strange guttural obscenities in their ancient language. They got back to their feet just as he looked up see the Saurian god pull an arrow from his right knee. In front of him, the Envoy actually stood and shook its head from the concussion wave.
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Brian stood, not knowing where he found the energy, maybe it was from the defiance he had learned from a certain blaster that had died sacrificing his life over three years ago. It did not matter anymore. From the inside pocket of his trench coat he removed a silver flask and finished his last meal. He tossed the metal container to the ground and snatched another cylindrical case from the inner pocket holding his cigar. It was an Arawak, a twenty-year-old aged cigar, which cost him two hundred dollars. He lit his last smoke using a simple spell producing flames in his palm. The cigar was so smooth and bold he could have drunk the aroma. Truly, it was befitting a dying man’s last request.
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“Make him scream,” the Dark Lord growled to his Envoy still recovering from the painful knee injury. It would take years to fully heal.
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The Envoy focused its hate on the hero, radiating dark tendrils of corrupt magic. It summoned the most powerful flaming sword it could and rushed the insolent man.
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News Flash activated the traveling spells remaining in his boots. Whatever magic lingered in them that had not been absorbed was guaranteed not to last. Brian clenched his cigar in his mouth and held Thauma’s phone out composing yet another award-winning photo. The Dark Lord was in the background and with the charging Envoy in the foreground. He captured the hate in the beast’s red blazing eyes perfectly.
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News Flash only had one last request.
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“Say cheese.”
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[[Category:Justice Universe Fiction]][[Category:UserOckham]]
 
[[Category:Justice Universe Fiction]][[Category:UserOckham]]

Revision as of 17:57, 29 June 2010

Not the Hero

A Novella of City of Heroes/City of Villains™ Fan Fiction by Anthony Harte

©2006