Master the Quick Draw, descent into Madness Part 1

In a world that is different then this one, yet similar in so many ways, a Prince had once trained. Learning various forms of martial combat, he learned how to defend the land and his people, for one day he would become a protector of the Realm and a possible King, so for him education and training was his daily regime, at least when he was not busy sneaking out into town to have some fun.

Reflecting back on those times, Novashen remembered that when he was training he often had to travel high into the mountains to see the Masters of sword art. It was a form of combat that came naturally to him, and one that he enjoyed immensely.

Smiling, Novahsen remembered holding a sword for the first time barely able to hold the heavy blade with both hands. He had swung the blade, nearly slicing the ear off of another pupil in training, he had not been meant to be holding a real blade of course, but had sneaked one from the equipment room.

“They could not have expected a Prince to train with a wooden sword could they?” Novashen chuckled at the memory, even though he had nearly hurt someone he had learned an important lesson that day.

He could remember the Master's words, as if they were being spoken to him right that moment, “You can never truly master the blade, for it's sharp edge is a danger to any who touch it. Even in accident a sword can cause death, so when drawn you must be ever vigilant.”

Novashen had been a carefree youth back in those days, not thinking seriously about many topics of conversation other then going out and playing games with the townsfolk. The topic of handling swords with the utmost of care had captivated him for some reason. Maybe it had been the ever present danger of handling a sword, since it required him to focus all of his energies when handling a sword it was easy for him to enjoy practicing for long periods of time; most things bored him easily.

As he begun his training, day by day he began to realize just how serious combat could be. Having never had reason to take a life before, he had to learn that by choosing to fight with the sword you had to be careful of your every movement when your sword was not sheathed.

For practice all of the students were forced to walk around with real swords unsheathed, in a small room with the rest of the students, forcing them to be mindful of everything they did, and each time they nicked a fellow student they were sent off run up the 'stairs of punishment'.

“And those stairs were very very punishing,” Novashen shook his head at the memory, as him and every other student had spent many hours running up and down those stairs, sweat running freely all over their bodies, drenching their clothes so that they smelt worse then foulest pig sty.

It was strenuous punishment, yet it taught each student to be careful, though no one was every seriously injured by a moment of carelessness during training, there had been numerous minor injuries throughout the course of their training, and only the most grueling of punishments would serve the purpose of reminding the students just how important it was to be constantly aware.

“Not to mention it was great endurance training,” Novashen smiled, remembering just how tired he had been after each run up the 'stairs of punishment', but by the end of his training he could run for a few hundred miles without breaking a sweat.

“I wonder what the Masters and other students are doing now?” Novashen wondered in the recesses of his own mind, he was lying on the ground a fair distance from the Master Crane's hut, hands tucked behind his head, enjoying the calm and refreshing air that flowed through his hair.

“Only in the mountains can you ever find air like this,” the Prince sighed, the memories of his past being all the more vivid due to the similar feel of the air.

Those had been the early days of Novashen's training with a sword, perfecting his handling of the blade, his awareness when it was drawn, and working off his punishment every time he had made a mistake, the memories brought a sense of nostalgia to him, making him miss his home.

“Best not to think too much about home,” he sighed, as much as he wanted to remember the good times he had back home, he still had no foreseeable way to return yet.

“I do have one way to forget home, one way to focus my energy,” smiling Novashen energetically jumped to his feet, growing excited. “Time to practice with my blade!”

A short time after he had found himself free of the lab he had awoken in, he had stumbled across a market selling used goods, though it was against this better judgment to buy a used weapon, it was all he could afford at the time. So he had ended up buying a used, but still usable sword from a vendor in a random villages market place, now it was time to put that sword to use.

Reaching out with his right hand, he wrapped his fingers firmly around the hilt of his sword, having put it down to rest on the ground next to him. It was still in it's sheath to protect it from the wet grass that he had been lying in. Standing, he felt his clothes cling to his body, damp from the moisture that tended to collect in the mountain grass.

Ignoring the feeling, he focused on carefully buckling his sword to his belt, so that it would not fall off during his practice, resulting in his own injury. With skilled movements, that came from hours of practice he buckled the sword to his belt, making sure all of the necessary straps were tight and in no danger of loosening.

Looking around, Novashen studied his surroundings, taking note just how close each trees was to him. He studied the way each branch swayed in the wind, how the leaves fluttered about when a particularly strong gust of wind disturbed their rest. His left hand wandered to the hilt of his sheathed sword, fingers gingerly wrapping around it's worn leather, gentle like a lovers caress.

A storm of leaves blew up around him as a particularly powerful blast of wind whipped through the forest, creating a small vortex of leaves with him at the center. Focusing his mind, he didn't allow himself to become distracted by the many leaves that brushed up against his skin, focusing instead on one particular leaf that was swirling around him. Keeping his eyes locked on that one leaf, he turn his body to match the movements of the flying leaf.

“And now!”, Novashen thought in his mind, seeing the perfect moment to unleash his sword from it's sheath, the shining steel of his sword slicing easily through the air towards the leaf, the edge of his blade getting ever closer to it's target, only to miss as a sudden gust of wind carried the leaf up and away from him.

“Bloody stars!” He cursed the moment he knew sword attack missed, having concentrated too much on not being distracted by what was around, he had not been flexible enough to predict any outside change s to the leafs movements.

Forcing the frustration from his mind, he gritted his teeth tightly, still feeling irritated no matter how much he tried to suppress it. With a hand that shook ever so slightly, he sheathed his sword, again trying to clear his mind of the many distractions that assaulted him. The wind as silent as a gliding ghost, roared loudly in his ears, the many leaves that were fluttering throughout the forest, skimmed the surface of his skin, each one feeling like a cold block of ice pressed hard on his skin.

“Bloody stars and extinguished suns!” Novashen yelled, his voice carrying out into the forest only to be absorbed into it's thick leafy boughs. The more he tried to focus his mental awareness on one thing, the more his other senses became amplified, the more he felt the world around him, and the more he became distracted when trying to perfect his move.

“Bloody stars,” he mumbled again, kicking a pile of dirt and leaves in front of him out of frustration. “How did the Masters become so good?”

With a sigh, he sat himself down on a cushion of air his innate ability to fly activating the moment he willed it, after all a Prince shouldn't willingly sit on a dirty ground, he still had some of his royal dignity left.

Crossing his legs, he rested his hands into his lap, inter winding his fingers together just like he had been taught by many of his Masters. Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to drift, not focusing on his environment at all, so that he could become lost in the realm of dreams, and perhaps he might be able to walk down memory lane.

Time passed as Novashen held his pose, his mind drifting through farther and farther away from the physical realm, and though he was not aware of how much time had passed, the sun itself had moved high into the sky, and was just now setting behind a mountain range far off into the distance. Had it been seconds, minutes or hours?

A memory began to form in his mind, first appearing as cloudy smoke, very hazy in detail. Yet as his mind wandered farther and farther from the realm of the physical, and into the realm of the mental, the image began to get clearer, crisper, until eventually the Prince could see every detail.

First, the mountain in which the Sword Monastery dwelt began to take shape, an open clearing further up the mountain being the location that this particular memory focused on. A group of hazy figures began to take shape, showing a scene of a group of students dressed in plain gray robes standing around another figure, one who was older, taller, and much more muscular, dressed in similar gray robes, it was man, with long flowing black hair, a plain sword of no particular decoration was gripped in his hand.

The man, who Novashen remembered as one of his sword instructors, was currently standing still holding the sword in one hand, having just recently demonstrated a technique to everyone on the mountain top. A small bead of sweat was running down his chest, having begun at his forehead, running it's course across around his nose, moving around the outsides of his lips, down his chin, neck before making it's way to his chest.

The sword instructor, whom Novashen could not remember the name of at that moment, looked at his pupils, his eyes tight with concentration. Looking around, he made sure that comprehension had dawned on all of their faces, ensuring that they understood what had just happened.

Word Count - 1887

“When you become as skilled as I, you will be able to do this technique as I have just demonstrated. This technique requires you to be intensely aware of your surroundings however, just like your first lessons, if you become careless you can hurt someone, an ally or a loved one rather then your intended enemy,” the nameless sword instructor paused once again looking around at the nodding heads of his students to ensure his words were sinking in.

“Yes Master,” came the unison response of the students all around him, most of them understanding completely, others not as much but still grasping the general concept that was trying to be explained to them.

It seemed that his mind had skipped over the actual demonstration of the technique that he was trying to Master, instead bringing him to the point after the demonstration. Yet that did not mean he had not learned something valuable, in fact it was probably the most valuable thing he could have learned, he just needed to figure out what it meant.

The memory continued on, though it was mostly things that had nothing to do with the technique he was mastering, the crowd of students having dispersed to go about doing their daily duties of maintaining the Sword Monastery, giving them time to let their lesson sink in so that perhaps the day next they would be able to better utilize the information they were just taught.

Gradually the memory began to fade, the details starting to become blurry as his mind wandered back towards the physical realm once more. What was once sharp details became more and more blurry, until eventually it was like he was trying to stare through a fog, and then even that faded to blackness..

Novashen's eyes fluttered open, the sound of a bird singing nearby bringing him back to awareness. Soft rays of light had began to pierce through the deep tangle of forest, clearing away the darkness that had taken over in it's absence. Little droplets of water coated the entire forest, including Novashen himself, his hair had become damp from the moisture that had collect there during his period of stillness.

“Morning?” he muttered, a bit confused by what happened, he had not intended to enter a meditative trance for so long.

Yet, the memory that he had seen stood out in his mind, the details, and words of the sword master standing out in his mind as if he just gone through the lesson now. This had never happened to him before, he had never gone to 'sleep', and experienced such a vivid dream of his memories, and never before had he been able to remember it so clearly upon awaking.

“This.. this is new,” Novashen thought, a bit dismayed as he had never heard his Father, Masters or anyone ever talking about experiencing such a thing.

“How much is this new realm changing me?” the Prince pondered, staring up into the heavens he glided his hands through his long white hair, smoothing out his tresses, and picking out the leaves and twigs that had found a home there.

“I stink, I must look and smell just like a peasant right now, now I really am letting this new realm ruin me if I'm letting it affect my royal dignity,” Novashen's nose wrinkled at his own smell, his shoulders slumping at the hopelessness of his situation. “I could use a bath right now,”.

His mind flashed back to the Royal Place, where they had baths made from the finest shaped materials, baths that had been crafted from fine marble, shaped and reinforced with just the right magic touch to keep the bath waters warm for long periods of time. He could almost feel the warm waters soaking into his skin, washing away the knots in his muscles, and the dirt from his body. The scent of jasmine and vanilla, would drift into his nostrils as the servants burned incense to mask the smell of sweet and dirt.

A sly smile appeared on his lips, as another related memory surfaced to the front of his mind. One of a particularly attractive maid, who he liked to see blush by getting up out of the water fully naked right in front of her.

His smile broadened as he remembered her shy beauty, she had kept her hair short and blonde like the color of citrine quartz, her eyes were the color of blue aquamarine, shining brilliantly in the light. Her body had been thin giving her a waif like look, but her true beauty shone in her personality. Never one to say an unkind word, she spoke to everyone in kindness, and even treated the Prince with respect where other servants would look at him with a foul look, upset that he had not taken his royal duties more seriously. She was an innocent being though, one who would blush at the site of her Prince fully naked, even though it was her duty to robe him after his bath.

“She was such a beauty, like a tulip. Fragile yet beautiful.” he murmured a smile on his face.

He remembered the first time he had done that, acting out of impulse, curious as to how the new maid would react. Standing up from the warm bath water, he let his pride hang freely for her to take in, and for the first few moments she stood there shocked unable to move. It was probably a full minute before she was conscious enough to move again, and when she did her face went bright crimson like the rubies forged by the royal smiths.

Her creations had always cheered him up, no matter what kind of mood he had been in. Though he had never told her just how fond of her he had been, and what she meant to him.

“Life is full of regrets I guess,” he frowned, feeling regretful that he had not approached her to express his feelings, after all he had plenty of chances to do so.

“Whenever my parents, siblings, or servants made me feel bad for not living up to my 'Princely duties', she was always there. Treating me kindly. DAMN THEM! Why did they have to treat me that way anyway!? It's not like I was ever going to rule, I just wanted to be free to do as I wish!” He shouted into the forest, his blood boiling as he thought about his life back home.

“Why do they even have to ruin my fond memories of HER,” he continued to fume, not realizing that it was not his relatives that were spoiling his memories, but his own attitude. It is not easy for the young, and inexperienced to take responsibility for their own actions after all.

“WHY WHY WHY!” the Prince roared in the forest, throwing a fit like a young child. Unknown to him, a small black aura had appeared around his body, little crackles of black lighting flaring up from moment to moment.

The grass around him began to wilt, the strange aura that had appeared around him sapping their life away. The animals in the forest began to run away from the presence that had just suddenly appeared among them. Even the predators gave the strange man screaming wildly, a wide birth, their natural instincts telling them that there was something strange possessing him.

And in fact there was something trying to posses him, the black aura that was surrounding him was the energy manifestation of a demonic prescience trying to take over, and Novashen's own magical nature fighting back.

Drawing his sword, Novashen began to wildly swing it around in the forest, while also dancing around like a mad man would. Swaying left and right, bending at odd times, and seemingly impossible angles as if his body had perfect flexibility, almost bending in half.

“Heh heh ha ha!” the Prince cackled as he dance around the forest, hacking up trees and leaves all around him.

As time wore on, the black aura thickened around the Prince, the crackles of black lightening becoming more and more frequent, and eventually Novashen's irises completely disappeared.

“Why were they always so hard on me? Why did they treat me like I was a failure?” Novashen thought, his mind wild with pain and anger, though he thought he was speaking out loud right now. His emotions had begun to cloud his mind, and he was losing touch with his physical body, as the strange presence begun to take a firmer grip on his mind.

“Heh heh,” the dancing Prince laugh again, this time as he cut a tree clean in half with one swipe of his sword, a strange wave of force emitting from his edge of his blade with each strike.

Then the whispers began... “They were never good enough for you Novashen, they never cared about you, and they most certainly never valued your skills,” it was a strange voice that invaded his mind, one that was feminine he decided, soft and wistful.

“That's right, I was going to become a powerful warrior and roam the country side protecting the citizens of our kingdom! I mean they were pretty dirty, but if I wasn't going to rule the kingdom then I should at least protect the people important to me!” Novashen replied to the feminine voice, agreeing with her statements. “Why would I have to waste my time learning politics if I was never going to use them?”

“That's right Novashen, my sweet sweet Prince,” the image of the the sweet and innocent maid that he liked to embarrass formed in front of his eyes. Though it was all in his head, it still felt very real to him. He could feel the warmth of her eyes upon him, the gentleness of her smile brought confidence to him. For a moment he forgot all about his family.

“You have always been too good to me,” he smiled at the maiden, thinking that for the time being he was back home, speaking with her. “You make me feel valuable, like I have some worth. That my ideals were worth pursuing.”

Back in the forest clearing, the Prince had finished cutting up most of the clearing, leaving a pile of collapsed trees all around him.

“Heh heh!” the maniacal Prince laughed once again, he tilted his head to the side as if listening carefully to something. “Are you there, why are you hiding Mr. Bear?”

Word Count - 1777
TWC - 3654

Hundreds of yards away from him, a bear was running away from the clearing, having been rudely awakened from it's slumber by Novashen's mad dance. The sudden movement drew the Prince's eye to it, his enhanced vision capable of seeing the animal as plain as day through the thick foliage, tracking it like a sniper might.

Flying off like a bullet fire from a sniper rile, the Mad Prince flew straight through the trees, narrowly squeezing through trees, but it did not slow his pace once, moving at a neck break speed as he chased the bear.

Back in his mind... Novashen was smiling softly at the maiden, about to tell her how he felt. About the pounding emotions that warmed his mind when he thought of her. He did not want another moment to go by without him being able to express himself to her, he would not pass up another opportunity to forge their relationship into something more then that of Master and servant.

“I...,” he began, unsure of what to say.

“Don't speak my Prince,” she smiled at him, holding a finger to his lips to silence him. “Let us not spoil the mood right now?” her smile darkened ever so slightly, turning a kind of sly half-smile, a lusty smile that promised something pleasurable.

“Wait... why?” confused at her sudden chance in attitude, the Prince moved her fingers form his lips. “Your not her.. who are you?” doubt filled his mind at that moment, and the maiden's image began to become fuzzy, the sensation of something dark and sinister insulated his senses.

“What are you?” Novashen questioned, seeing red glowing eyes where there had once been soft blue ones. He could see the slight tips of horns sticking out from her head.

It was then he realized that, all of this was occurring in his mind, as he became aware that he was no longer in the forest, and was instead surrounded by an endless darkness.

“I don't know what you are, but RELEASE ME!” Novashen cried out, in response his spiritual energy gushed forth form his body, wiping away the demonic figure he saw before him, the last thing he saw was that half-smile looking back at him.

“Wha..?” Novashen was staring at a bear, one that was unconscious. His sword was in his hand, raised up the unmoving bear, and he had just been in the process of swinging it downwards in a slash that would have cut it open from head to toe. Only his training and skill allowed him to redirect the force his own attack off to the side, cleaving a nearby tree in half.

“Wha.. what am I doing?” the black aura vanished from Novashen as the demonic presence that had attacked him faded, knowing that right now it was not yet strong enough to overcome the strong willed Prince.

Confused he lifted off into the sky, willing his flight systems to activate to take him away from the forest. Eager to leave, and slightly frightened at how his body had carried him away from the clearing he had been in without his own conscious thought he channeled energy into his body so that an aura of power sprang into existence around him, carrying him away from the forest like a shooting star.

“What happened down there, and who was that thing that invaded my mind? How did it do that?” he thought as he flew through the sky, he moved without direction or though as to where he was going, such was his dismay.

It was confusing for the Prince to lose himself, to have something take over his mind and control his body. So much was happening to him all at once, first he was remembering strange memories from when he was first learning the way of the sword, and then he was being controlled by some sort of demon.

Meanwhile, in another realm there a group of creatures gathered. These creatures were of the darkest evil, being the natural inhabitants of Hell, having been put there long before there were living beings, back when the Universe was just a baby.

Their skin was a dark red color, each had a muscular figure, with twin horns jutting from their forehead. All together it was a circle of twelve such creatures that had gathered, all sitting around a table in a dimly lit room.

The oldest among them stood up, his face was covered in many wrinkles, and a long well groomed black beard grew from his chin.

“The Prince fended off our first attempt, but I feel we will be able to posses his body under the right circumstances. He is training under our pawn Shen, so he will be constantly exposed to our infulence,” the Eldest demon lord spoke, meeting the gaze of each of his fellow Demon Lords in turn. “We have been waiting for a long time for a being such as he to make an appearance, magical creatures are always easier to subject to our influence.”

Another one of the Demon Lords, this one wearing a hood that was inscribed with many silvery runes spoke up. “Yes, with this pawn we will be able to spread Chaos throughout the world once more. For too long have the Kais suppressed us.”

A murmur of agreement broke out among the remaining Lords, each growing excited as the hooded Lord spoke. All of them wanted to break this period of peace that had lasted far too long over the Universe.

Waiting for the remaining Demon Lords to quiet down, the Eldest spoke again. “First we must forge him into a tool, a powerful tool. Otherwise the Heroes of the Universe will rise and smite him before we have the chance to accomplish our goals.”

“Yes, he has already made some allies of strength, allies that we shall be able to manipulate into helping him accomplish this. I sense many of them are power hungry in their own right and will gladly help as long as we are not too obvious,” the hooded Demon Lord continued, waiting for a moment after the Eldest Lord had spoken.

There were forces at work that Novashen knew nothing about, forces that had targeted him as a victim the moment he had entered this Universe. His magical nature shone out to them as a bright beacon across the dimensional plane from Hell, and those dark forces immediately lusted after him. Wishing too accomplish many dark deeds by using him as a tool, Novashen's future looked bleak indeed, unless someone stepped out to help him.

WC - 1117
TWC - 4771