This is a 'project' I've been writing for a while; I welcome criticism, as it only serves to show where I need improvement. I have only 5 chapters of the story so far, as I haven't really had the time or motivation to continue. If you would like to see the story go in a particular direction, please let me know... I kind of want to establish a "party" of sorts with the characters to discover the secrets behind the Necrati tribe and why they are a blight upon the world. I didn't seem to have that in mind with the Prelude, but maybe I'll work into it. I don't know.

Read and enjoy.

Mage Chronicles - Prelude - Claw and Fang

She sat awake beneath the tree, staring intently at his sleeping form. Blinking, the realization dawned on her that she'd never really seen his eyes in the fullness of light. Curiously, she crept over to Sylph. Why did he keep so much of his appearance conveniently hidden? Asleep, he appeared the guileless angel, but wished she could see, if only once, what his eyes looked like. Her hand inched forward ever so slightly to raise the brim of his plumed hat.

The distinctive sound of a footstep from the wooded area behind them froze Razwan mid-motion, her breathing stilled so as not to interfere with her hearing. No sound followed it for nearly a minute, until another rustle broke the silence from another direction. The sounds were stealthy, and the sneakiness of them set her on the alert. With some regret, she shook Sylph's shoulder gently, placing a single upraised finger to her lips to indicate silence and trouble.

Despite the depth of his sleep, he came to immediately; she could feel his muscles tense beneath her hand. Leaning down, brushing her lips against the outer arc of his ear, she whispered almost to the point of being completely inaudible.

"I think we have visitors."

He nodded, upturning one, two, and then four of his fingers. Four of them, then, she thought. Two of them to one of us. Terrible odds... for them.

A slow, bass-filled growl echoed low through the underbrush, followed by a bone-chilling, vulpine howl.

Wolves.

________________________________________

Sylph scrambled, as quietly as he could, to his feet. He made no sudden movements as he reapplied his gauntlets and cloak.

Testament manifested in his right hand, and he moved back-to-back with Razwan as the oversized wolves began to encircle the readied duo.

"I'm going to have to do this without magic," Sylph whispered, turning his head slightly to gain Razwan's ear. This was an unnecessary adjustment, as she was listening intently in concentration. "Without a full night's sleep," he said indignantly, "...I'm a little drained of will at the moment. I can feel the Ether, but only faintly."

"Then we do this the hard way," Razwan responded, but with her voice at its normal volume. The wolves already knew of their presence, so she saw no point in maintaining silence. "You take the two ugly ones."
Sylph heard her dash forward and the sweet melody of razor-sharp metal meeting wolf skin.

"Wait. Which two are the ugly ones?" he retorted playfully, and focused his attention on the growling wolf ten paces to his left. He focused some of his latent power into Testament's ruby. "You're a bad puppy," he taunted, slowly bringing Testament across him and nearly to his backside. "White Rhapsody", he then declared, his voice taking on a faint and otherworldly echo. Swinging Testament in a wide arc resulted in the ruby releasing two glowing, silver discs flowing outward at a horizontally parabolic trajectory toward his target. They converged at the beast's rushing form, which flew backward in recoil and yelped in pain. It landed hard on the ground, tumbled a few times, and appeared to be unconscious from the blow.

Sylph turned his eye--the one only half-concealed by the brim of his hat--to the beast that was now distracted by the condition of his companion. He took the opportunity to analyze Razwan's affairs, who was staring down her second target; the first one was nowhere to be seen.

Her wolf was the first to lunge. She took the opportunity to duck, only to give the beast a scythe-powered uppercut, launching it unusually high. What she did next amazed him further. She flung Etoile directly at the airborne beast, which sailed to its target like a renegade buzz saw. He didn't have to look to see that the fiend was instantly killed, but even more amazingly, the scythe continued on a boomerang path back to its owner. She caught it gracefully with one hand before the corpse landed on the ground behind her. It was a good thing that she spotted Sylph watching her.

"Look out!" she cried, and he turned to see his forgotten target lunging. Its attack was interrupted by a needle in its face, fired reflexively from Razwan's hand. Sylph wasted no time and landed a finishing blow to the beast's ribcage.

They both remained on the offensive for a few moments, in case any others from the wolves' pack decided to become reinforcements.

The tension settled, and Razwan was first to speak.

"Kurrelgyre..."