Fallacious

Chapter One

She was wise

She brought us together

Whilst we were lost and afraid

But now she is but a nimbus

Floating, astray

The night sky displayed a full-moon, and Sylvester Lastly was on the run from a forest troll. Once he lost it, he shifted uneasily back and forth, and soon, the man wandered into the leaky, vine-covered depths of a dungeon. The dungeon was freezing and dark. The only sound illuminating the mysterious cove being the drops of water that plop down every so often and the strange tweets of the stalking bats.

The man wrapped his hands around anything that seemed valuable but he was undeniably wary about traps.

He was a cartoonish fellow. With black, messy hair that reached roughly to his pointed, pierced elf-ears and stuck out of place although he pushed it down. His eyes were like that of the forest around him and a lone dimple appeared upon his small, frustrated expressions. He pulled up a strange mask over his mouth, covering the dimple and his other subtle features. His shoulders seemed broad due to his layered clothing, which consisted of tattered, brown pants, worn down boots, a nice, loose vest over a padded, gray shirt, and plenty of pockets. A bag dangled around his waist and a ruffled up pack were placed on his back.

His eyes then shifted towards a glimmering light from the corner of the dungeon. Making his way towards the shimmer, he pulled forth a dagger from one of his many pockets. Eyes squinted and stance ready, he edged ever closer.

The ground in front of him suddenly breaks apart and launches itself into the air, revealing a woman with blonde, snake-like locks that wrap around her head. She grins dangerously and begins to snicker. "What brings you, foolish rouge, into my dungeon?" she inquires, cocking a brow as her somewhat chubby face gets squished against her hand while she rests in a comfortable position on a chair.

As she moves, the stones and crystals placed around her neck and wrists begin to clank together. Her eyes were blue like some of the gems that were floating around her and her teeth were crooked, almost as if she had bitten into one of the crystals around her neck. To sum it up, she looks like one mad woman.

The masked man twitches his nose, his eyebrows shift in a way that show concern. He sighs and ignores the blonde. He moves around her and begins gathering more things he finds interest in. The woman makes a grunt of disgust. "Excuse me?" she sneers in an awfully obnoxious voice, "Whatever do you think you're doing!?"

He tucks his dagger into his pocket along with a few pricey looking stones and doesn't reply. The rouge is fully aware that the eyes of this woman could cause you to fall to your knees, abiding every order she gives you. A simple response and some eye-contact would be all it takes. Not because she's beautifully, definitely not, but because she is an enchantress.

Then, the masked man escapes and the lady of the dungeon yells in dismay a minute or two afterward. A strange sight indeed. Yet he continues to leap through the forest. His movements are so carefree, yet well-thought-out. As if he had done the same thing a million times before; stealing jewels from an angry witch. He makes his way to what seems to be a small, dusty village. Small, but packed with people that walked down the padded paths and worked in the large fields of wheat.

He snatches two apples, tossing a jewel towards the vendor. Then heading down a path to a small house, he bites into one of the apples. The house he heads towards seems to wander away from the rest of the village. It is empty around here in this isolated plot of land. At least it seems to be at first glance.

The masked man moves towards the house that has a bouquet of flowers leaning against the entrance. His expression is wary as though he is expecting to get jumped by someone from inside the building.