Crow's Calling

[xXFox QueenXx]

The Troll

It was a normal day of school for Maya but today was not so kind. With so many people crashing into her, all in a rush for class, numerous papers fell out of her folders from all the prodding. They soon dispersed to their desks letting her have time to find said papers.

“Damn it…” she nervously bit her lip looking under the desks “Where the hell did they go? She muttered before someone kicked her a** while she was bent over, which in turn caused Myra to slam her head on the desk on the way up. Laughs and giggles erupted and Myra faced her attacker.

There she stood 5’4, a two good inches above her. Her black wool hair tied up into a pony tail with a red ribbon. “What’s all this s**t?” she asked with a bored face reading the sheets before Myra reached for them. “Please don’t read them!” Keeping them just from her grasp she retorted “If you didn’t want anyone to read them then why would you print it out?” “I wanted to work on it during class” She finally snatched the papers away, placing them back in order.

“Well what is it?”
“…it’s a story”
“what kind of story?”

Myra felt her face become red, wishing that the questioning would end, or that she would stop answering.

“…a fiction adventure one”
“About?”
“I…I don’t…you wouldn’t understand”
“Is it because I’m black?”
“What?”

“Just because I’m black I can’t read or something. Do I look stupid to you?”

“No I didn’t say that”
“So I can read it”
“No”
“But you said I can read”
“Yes you can b-”

“Alright then, I’m going to go read this now and hand it back when I’m done. By the way name is Linda, later” She flashed a devils smile and walked away to her desk in the back of the room.

Maya just stood there dumbfounded. As if something out of the loony tunes, she had just gotten trolled. When she realized what had just happened, the only words she could think to say were

“You realize that this means war”  

[Final Saph]

Here's just something that flowed from my fingers, it's my submission.
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heart


Something To Prove
(Original Work- Saph)

A shift in the wind. The first sign of many to indicate an oncoming storm. Dark clouds, the second. These clouds ringed the sky in random patterns, almost as if to shadow the ground below and cast the world into darkness, yet the sun peeked through in defiance. The rays were just enough for sight.

A village stood proud in a place of low-lands, foliage concealing this area like it was it's own plane entirely. Feet marched toward the center of town.. a parade? Hardly. Today was the day that they'd been waiting for.. and no rain or bad weather would deter them from watching the spectacle that awaited them. Armor was situated onto two forms, arms moving to help ease this process. Boots stepped, shifting to allow the others to strap these metal objects into place. A helmet was placed down onto locks of hair, placed just so on the head that the wearer could look through the slits that were there for the eyes to see through. The contestants moved forth to enter the ring, which was pretty much a sizable dirt circle with bodies lining it. These villagers were cheering in anticipation for this fight.

"You think you can win?" The cocky tone of a deep voice met the air before said person grinned in mistaken triumph. He would win this fight, he knew. He was superior. To say the least this man had an ego. "You will kneel at my feet."

Cool grey met vibrant green. The cloudy-eyed man didn't show an expression as he hefted his sword, swinging it around to test the weight. It was balanced enough for him to use without much difficulty. He studied his aggressor, the man who'd challenged him to this match. "My, my.. Detrious I knew you were a fool, but to think you'd imagine me kneeling is a bit far-fetched, don't you agree? When have I ever shrank to my knees in respect to a half-breed?"

It was true, this man was a half-breed. He was part human, part elf. Green orbs widened before narrowing, eyebrow twitching over the right. To his kind being called a half-breed was an insult among degrading terms. This arrogant man lowered himself, twirling his own blade, eyes locked on his opponent. "Your condescending words are uncalled for, Marius. I'm your equal." He wore no helmet, didn't need one.

Marius snorted, a slow and devious smile making a home onto his face, his eyes shadowed by his helmet. "The only equality we have is that we breathe. The rest is as far apart as continents."

"Argh!" The taller man with short blonde hair rushed forth, hands lifting to direct the blade into a strike horizontal across the chest. Marius was fast, though, blocking the move with his own blade angled vertical before him.

The full blooded human leaned forward, pushing against the blade enough to keep it from moving. "You really think you can beat me, a master of the sword?" He scowled now, grey eyes thinned. "Have you forgotten whose son I am to?" The cheer of the crowd picked up at the start of the match, arms raised in their amusement. It was no unknown truth that Marius was the son of the leader of the village, Chief Targus. This made him an exceptional fighter, especially since the man had trained since he was a boy.

It was also known that Detrious was no child with the blade. He could handle his own and had learned from the forest Spirit Walker Clari, a man whose talents were vast and honed.

"I have not forgotten, nor should you of my advancing beneath the tutorship of Clari." Clari was a man of many faces, one well respected among the village people.

Marius' smile widened. "Ah, I'd push that crazed tree-hugger to the back of my mind." With a mighty roar the half-ling pushed against the blade, sending the chief's son stumbling back a step, eyes wide at this. Detrious rushed forward, fluid steps calculated and precise, blade streaking diagonal. The real fight began then. The two were like well trained dancers, parrying, blocking, attacking, dodging and moving with such grace unlike the two well built males that they were. Dust was created as feet slid, hands tightening around handles before moving in for another attack.

Surprisingly the helmet did not hinder the older male, who skillfully used it do his advantage here and there when he got close enough to headbutt the man's chest or back when exposed. This merely caused the elf-human to snarl angrily and proceed with an attack that would force the human to back up lest he get struck with these fast swings. Rain began to fall from the darkened sky.

Could one of them win? Would they? Who would be decided victor with such even leverage in this daring fight? Only time would tell.  

[Sephiroth of Light]

Darn it! I submitted all my work on the Video game Fan fiction sub forum.