Cold, harsh and cruel is the city. The rain poured mercilessly adding insult to injury to the beating winter was giving. Those who had the unfortunate luck of being caught in the cursed as they ran to whatever shelter they could find. The dark and dismal streets made him comfortable. They fit his mood. His mission in life called for him to combat bone-chilling weather. His ears weren't used to the sounds he was hearing the shrill cry on police sirens, the motors of cars, sounds of the city. Uncertain of where to begin, he continued his trek in the unforgiving rain. This was definitely a far cry from the mountains. Ignoring everything, he was in his own silence to the east. A foreboding feeling came over him a feeling that made the hair on his arm stand on end, that called to him. Even though he had never been to this place before today, he felt as if he knew where to go.
This was what he was training all of his life for and though he had never seen the enemy he would see them for the first time tonight. There would be no turning back. His guard was up as he stepped into the abandoned warehouse oblivious to all except the feeling that was intensified as he walked further in. His eyes darted back and forth ready for anything. His gaze was immediately fixed in a pile of trash. He looked closely as it moved slightly. A cat strolled out of the garbage heap and looked at Marou and fell dead.
They were here.
A flash of golden red fills the room as he raised his hand to absorb the energy that was a fireball. He immediately moved to a defensive posture and looked up to see his attacker standing on a catwalk above him. He then looked around to see the floor and walls ripple like water, as more figures emerge from seemingly no where. A quick Count totaled fifteen that surrounded him. Each of them had a red aura around them but they weren't very strong. Remember your training and why you are here, he thought to himself, as he stood ready for all comers.
No look of worry crossed his face as they surrounded him. Se looked at the auras of the pack. Each one was a candle compared to his. He stood against mere initiates. The brightest aura came from the leader, who stood on the catwalk that was farthest away from him. He snaps his fingers and the pack moves in closer. "Good bye, Mystic." The leader states as lightening flashes from a crystal in his left hand. Marou moved his staff in front of him twirling it to absorb the energy then stepped back into his defensive position. "Good bye," he replied.
He felt movement behind him and heard the clicks of several switchblades. The attackers came swiftly, but not swift enough. A blade swung toward his back. The young mage wanna be met with a slight breeze and a blow to his face. Fire coursed through his body as he went down. A bright flash of light caught Marou's attention and he immediately turned sweeping his hand in its path. The blade of light ricocheted off his hand dispatching its sender. He looked in the direction that the light came from to find another Surger beginning to focus energy, his hands had a red glow and getting stronger with each second. Marou launched his staff. During its flight it changed into a blue disc of light cleaving the boy in half sending the remains melting to the ground. The Disc reformed his staff as it returned to his hand. Instinct made him move to protect his right flank from the rush of two Surgers with glowing red rods. Striking a novice in the temple with his staff, he switches his grip and brings up to meet the wide-open and waiting testicles of the attacker on his right. Both Surgers fell to their knees. Marou stepped to the side of them and in a samurai type stance and forces the staff through their heads. With a bone-shattering crack he sends them to meet their maker. Returning to a defensive stance, Marou quickly looked around to see that four more had taken up flanking positions around him projecting white balls of energy towards his being. He quickly deflected three of the light spheres and smacks the fourth back towards its sender. The ball exploded in her face sending her flying backwards. Marou then tosses his staff to the remaining Surger on the left, turns and plants his foot and drives his hands home into the Surgers on the right blowing out their backs. The remaining attacker attempted to strike Marou with his own weapon. The Mystic quickly relieved he novice of his staff. He then turns his back on his adversary thrusting his staff backward through his chest. Spinning around behind him, he pulls the staff from his body leaving the boy to fall lifeless to the ground.
Stepping back into a defensive posture, Marou glanced around to see all the dead around him. The remaining six vanished without a trace. Sensing no other power, he relaxes and stands up.
That was relatively easy, he thought to himself as he turned toward the skewered body behind him. Grabbing it by the hair he pulled it to the center of the battle area leaving it there to collect the others. "Leave no traces of the dead," Marou hears is father's voice in his mind, "The Surgers will use the bodies in their foul experiments."
He then pulls a small jar from his pack and pours the jade scented contents on the pile of bodies. Taking a small crystal sphere out of his pocket, he crushes it into a glowing powder as he mumbles an incantation. With the last syllable finished, he tossed the powder onto the corpses setting them ablaze in blue fire. He stood silently watching the flames inhaling the jade deep into his lungs thinking of days past. His thoughts his friend Shiro who was also in training. He thought of how he found him, what was left of him. Exhaling, his thoughts were of the last sight of his father being nothing but a pile of withered flesh and bone. The pain struggling to escape him only succeeded in loosing a single tear. He clinched his fist around his staff. "They will pay," he whispers as he makes his exit.