Destined {𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾}

Novel Sneak-Peak

A/N: This is mainly for my own sake -- it just really kills me to write something and not know what people think of it. So lo-and-behold the prologue of the novel I've been working on for over a year (which, I think, is definitely the best story I've ever written). Please tell me what you think! It isn't edited or anything (I've barely read over it -- this is the third draft of the damn thing -- so there might be awkward phrasing and spelling errors and shit like that), but what I really want to know is if it intrigues you or interests you. Thank you my lovelies!

Crimson drops fell upon the white snow that swirled atop the mountain with a brisk wind that crept from the dark clouds plaguing the sky. Intense battle raged on below the mountaintop, flashes of all the different elements bursting like little specs of dust of red and blue, mingling in with the silent darkness that assaulted them. However, two men stood at the very top of the mountain; one was clad in white, the other in black.

Magus held his staff in front of his body, the tip glowing with the culmination of flames. "Brother, I beg of you," he said, chest heaving, his resolve wavering at the agony that hid behind his brother's deep, red eyes. "This is not the way." His eyes swept over the valleys beneath them, at the fighting that unfolded below; already there were countless bodies strewn about the battlefield. "It is not too late for peace."

His brother's lips pressed into a thin line as the agony in his eyes was instead replaced with unbridled rage. "Peace has long since departed. Now, there is only war."

"Tyran, please—" Magus barely had the time to speak before his brother cut him off, a flame made of nothing but pure shadow forming in the palm of his hand.

"Perhaps," he mused, the edges of his lips twisting up into a cruel, mocking smirk, "if your own son was to meet an unexpected end, you would not be so quick to speak of peace."

Magus's face darkened, the flame atop his staff growing brighter, eradicating some of the shadows creeping towards him. "You would not dare harm Zoldryr." His voice tumbled out of him like a deep wave, the mountain shuddering with the strain of the magic that exploded from him like a heavy, crushing weight.

"Of course, I would never. I understand the absolute agony of losing a child — I have lost many." There was pain in his crimson eyes again, though it lasted only a fraction of a second. As he turned to stare at the battlefield, it was rage once more. "I have lost them to those murderers," he hissed, the darkness around his fist growing, even against the flame's pressure. "Those monsters." Again, the shadows grew. "And now, you have empowered them, given them shreds of your magic, for what? For them to harm my remaining children further?"

With an angry yell, Tyran thrust his palm outward, a straight-arrow of shadow darting out from it, landing right in the chest of a Fire Wielder that had been seconds away from skewering a young-looking woman with the same crimson eyes with a sword coated with flame.

"However," Tyran continued, smoothing back the dark hair that had grown ruffled with his abrupt movements, "I will forgive you, for you are my brother. Allow me to kill these beasts, and join me. You, and I, and our children may then live in true peace and harmony, fearlessly."

Magus closed his eyes, resignation swirling in his chest. "Forgive me, brother, however... it is not right to murder innocents." He squared his stance, firming his grip on his staff as the crystal began to glow with flames once more.

With a sigh, Tyran raised his hand, darkness engulfing it. "What a pity. Although I regret it, I will not hesitate kill you, too."

Without further hesitation, the two lunged at one another, wounded bodies already aching as they called magic to themselves. In a flare of black and red, they clashed; two Ancients, two creators of magic. The ground below them trembled with the shock wave that came after. Magus grimaced against the pressure, his flames dwindling slowly, his brother's shadows slowly coming to swallow them whole.

He pushed, the sparks starting up again in a flash of bright white light, eradicating most of the shadows that had been assaulting him. When the snow cleared, his eyebrows drew in confusion — Tyran no longer stood where he'd been only moments before. He whirled around, staff illuminating the space around him, but, still, his brother was nowhere to be seen. "TYRAN!" he shouted, wind blowing more snow into his face. "Show yourself!"

Nothing but the howl of the wind met his ears. Then, blinding pain shot up from his back. His eyes widened as he crumpled to the ground, legs refusing to support his weight. He leaned against his staff, peering over his back quickly — a blade of shadows, tinged ever so slightly with red.

Moments later, it melted away, seeping into the open wound. His body tensed up as the dark magic took hold of his body, holding him in place. It was true that Tyran had always been the most powerful of the three brothers — the strongest, the deadliest, and that was exactly why he'd been shunned by the rest of the world. They had all been absolutely terrified at the mere idea of him.

Magus regretted only not having been there for his youngest brother when the world had turned its back on him, too.

He closed his eyes, allowing his shoulders to relax, not straining against the magic that slowly wrapped around him, keeping him in place. He knew this spell would kill him — he could already feel the weakness in his body, the magic that was rapidly fading. When he opened them again, he spotted his brother right away, half-emerged from a hole in the snowy mountain.

Magus raised a fist, clenching it. Tyran sucked in a quick breath, though he didn't resist the earth that constricted around him, trapping him there. "I do not fear death, brother. I am prepared to die for my children." He turned his head towards the raging battle below, and sighed, crimson eyes sombre. Darkness rushed out of his chest, shooting up into the sky; Magus's eyes widened.

"For those descendant of the elemental line, I banish thee. For those who have harmed my children, I banish thee. I banish thee to the astral realm, and may you never return."

Magus began to struggle against the inert restrictions on his body. "Tyran, no!" Frantically, he gripped his staff tighter, the crystal at its peak glowing bright white. He turned towards the battlefield, and the darkness that darted towards each and every one of the villagers he'd armed with magic. He gritted his teeth, focusing all of his remaining magic into the sphere. "Adapt to the realm! May magic transform you!" Tyran whipped towards him, crimson eyes glowing, rage contorting his features.

"May the magic given to you be found in the blood of your descendants. May you rise again!" Screams erupted from the field below as the five-hundred men began to contort, bodies lengthening, broadening, shifting into a wide range of animals. They began to shimmer, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

"Magus..." Tyran's voice was nothing short of growl, the fury on his face enough to scare even the mightiest of men.

"Forgive me, brother, however... someone needs to stop you when you, too, rise again." Tyran's eyes widened as the mountain began to suck him in.

"MAGUS!" He shouted, shooting out shadows. Each landed its mark, painting his silken white robes crimson, drops falling onto the snow; however, this was his strongest spell, and now it was in effect. Magus had never used it before; he'd never thought he would ever have to — and the price for using it was high.

"The mountain is now your prison, the elements your wardens. May it lock you in time, forever." His eyes glowed bright green as Tyran's screams were swallowed by the snowy mountaintop, black ink sealing the hole he'd been in, spreading out until it reached the base of the mountain.

His brother would remain here as long as the seal held. Magus's body fell limp, crumpling to the ground, his dim eyes staring up at the dark, stormy sky. "Zoldryr... the rest I leave to you." Magus's body faded, turning to dust, swirling away with the wind that rose in response to his call.

Moments later, a deafening roar pierced the silent air above.

Edit: Okay, I may have read over it and I'm not really all that proud of the way it was written, but I'll have to fix that during the editing phase at the end of this draft, no time to worry about that right now. Phew. I'll be deleting this in a day or two.

Lots of love,

~Emilie