Aetherian(Part 1): A War Begins

Blake

Save for a few cities, the Sandlands were a barren, hostile wasteland of desert in the furthest southern reaches of Aetherian ruled by House Redwald for thousands of years until the end of the Redwald Rebellion, when the house was wiped out. When the sun was out, it would be hot enough to melt ice in seconds, but at night, it would be cool, with a cloudless sky, dotted with bright stars. That's what Blake loved about it, anyway, and she wished she could travel at night, but she knew that there were more dangerous creatures lurking beneath the sands that slept during the day, and it would be a death sentence to even try. Whenever she found a town or any shelter at all, she would roll out her blanket and doze off within hours. Ever since the destruction of Southwatch, the Sandlands' Guardian outpost, the Guardians stationed in the Sandlands were either hunted down by the Redwalds or scattered across the deserts to wander. Last night, she managed to find a tavern that wasn't completely destroyed, but she knew it all too well. Blake grew up in the Sandlands, but the people who lived there were mostly crazy, and the people who always went to the inn she stayed at were probably the worst. She always kept her light sword on hand when she stopped anywhere, but she ditched most of her silver Guardian Knight armor. Instead, she wore a long jacket that was the same tan color of the desert and painted her gauntlets, bracers, and boots the same color, but she threw the chest plate away in order to not give herself away as a Guardian. Not that anyone would mess with her anyway. Blake was almost six feet tall, which was big for a girl of sixteen. At breakfast, when she heard men and boys laughing at how tall she was, she fought every urge not to punch their teeth out with her armor-plated fist. They dare not say anything to her face, though, so she must have passed as a Huntress instead of a Guardian, or maybe a Knight of some desert lord, even though she didn't bear a sigil. She even ditched her Guardians' winged eagle shield cape to hide her identity.

"Aren't you a little young to drink here, kid?" the bartender asked her.

"Water," said Blake. "It's hot out, in case you didn't notice."

"Alright, alright," the bartender said, handing her a glass bottle, filled with clear water. Blake twisted the cap off and chugged the water down in seconds.

"Dinner?" asked the bartender.

"No, thank you," answered Blake, then she put the bottle down and started towards the door. On her way, she accidentally bumped into a Knight in bronze colored armor.

"Sorry," she apologized, and she kept walking.

"'Sorry' doesn't cut it, girlie," the Knight talked back. Blake hated when people didn't just let an accident be something to forget about. She turned around to face the Knight. He had the sigil of a scorpion with a coiled tail on his shoulder pad, the sigil of House Morvain, the new rulers of the Sandlands, and the ones who wiped out the Redwalds. The Knight facing her was about an inch taller than Blake and armed with a shotgun and a cutlass. Blake's lightsword didn't have a blade at all until she ignited it, but she didn't want to lash out in a fight with a Morvain Knight.

"Please, I am very tired," she explained. "And I need to be going now."

"It must be pretty important for you to almost knock me over," said the Knight. "Usually, you would bow in the presence of a Knight."

"You aren't Lord Morvain, so I don't understand your point. Now, good day, Ser." She rushed out of the building when she saw the Knight draw his shotgun, then hid beside the doorway. When the Morvain Knight rushed out after her, she ignited her silver lightsword and drove it through his neck.

"I told you to leave me alone," reminded Blake, as she let the Knight drop to the ground. "You should have listened." She climbed onto her sand-colored motorcycle, and she rode into the desert wearing a helmet and a pair of goggles. Suddenly, as she was riding with a roaring motorbike, she began to sense a faint darkness. Blake stopped for a moment to see where the aura came from, and she felt it emanating from the east. She turned her bike in the opposite direction of the setting sun and roared forward. Eventually, she arrived at a small, stone dome that sprouted from the desert sands when the aura of darkness grew stronger and stronger. The mound looked like an ancient ruin of sort, weathered and worn down, and the metal doors looked like they were ripped off. When she rode up to the ruins and took a look at the hinges, she saw that they were actually eroded, and the doors fell down instead.