Han Cakravata
In a dark forest, the rustling of bodies brushing against shrubs and greenery echoed. Prey and predator fled alike, making way for the intruders in the dead of night.
One was like the wind, despite his towering figure he sailed the air nimbly, escaping even the grasp of light. His footsteps would crush the earth beneath him, scattering faults about. Trees would not hinder him, for his body would bend around them like air, the works of unbelievable flexibility at play, maybe some magic even. Sound would not dare give away his location, only making its presence known after his departure.
Behind him, tens of shadows slithered across the mossy forest ground. The silvery hue of the moon failed to illuminate their silhouettes, undetectable, these shadows perused him with predatory fervor.
Miles upon miles, the hunt ensued with no victor; the disheveled forest terrain bear witness to that.
Proving fruitless, the shadows abandoned their linear chase, and opted to try and encircle him. Taking to his flanks, two dozen pursuers approached hungrily while only one dozen remained at the rear. Slowly, the flanking shadows inched closer to the fleeing figure, their footsteps devouring the short distance between, them.
The three pronged chase gave the shadows an advantage, that and the fatigue of the fleeing figure; for the hound has been going on for weeks a many, cycles of the day and night irrelevant.
'Tsk, smart bastards.'
Suddenly, the fleeing figure leapt into the air, twisting his body to face the pursuers. He landed in a crouching position, his hands poised towards the ground as they helped his skidding feet arrest his momentum. Four parallel lines grazed the earth, digging shallow ditches on Gaia's skin. Down his arms dribbled a crimson liquid, snaking its way to his fingertips and staining the green moss beneath him.
Coming to a stop, the figure stood upright his eyes scanning the clearing he had reached.
Under the moonlight, his brown mane shone with a rusty color as small droplets of blood seeped from his mouth. Under the torn battle armor, his wound-ridden chest heaved up and down as his lungs greedily demanded oxygen.
Only a brief moment passed before his pursuers caught up, surrounding him strategically from every angle.
All of them were garbed in loose black robes, concealing every inch of their figure. Upon their heads they donned hoods, stemming from the robes themselves, enchanted with magic to hide their visages. Every time they moved, the robes would resemble a black mist, rendering any prediction unviable, for their actions were simply unpredictable.
Stepping forward, one of the pursuers took off their hood, revealing an olive-skinned feminine face. Free of the constricting hood, the assassin shook her head in relief, swaying her hair gently. Her braided black hair slithered down her robes, hiding a gallery of bazar weapons, a very soft chime sounding from them upon her movement. Her angular eyes gazed upon the stars as she took in a deep breath, savoring the bristly night air.
With a confident side glance, her head still facing the heavens, the assassin spoke firmly.
"End of the line Isaac. Tell me where he is and I'll spare you, for old times' sake."
With rugged breathing, Isaac laughed manically, a beastly grin stretching his lips.
"YOU? Spare, ME? BAHAHAAHAHA. It seems you've found quite the sense of humor after I've left, huh Visha."
Visha's eyes round pupils turned slitted as she sent a menacing glare his way. A thick malice- filled smog filled the air as Visha narrowed her eyes and released her bloodlust. It seems that name triggered a bitter memory. A memory hidden deep within her mind, one where she poisoned the very master that taught her everything she knew.
"This is your last chance, surrender and lead me to your son. Or else, I shall have my Naga flail your flesh."
Regaining her composure, Visha faced Isaac and extended her left hand towards the ground and down her arm, a long segmented sword slid.
"No." Resisted Isaac
"Suit yourself"
Channeling Aeter into her sword, Visha waited until it changed into a much more versatile weapon than it already is.
The moment her sword broke off into pieces and turned into a bladed whip, all the assassins drew their weapons and rushed at Isaac.
Isaac on the other hand stood calmly, watching as the bazar array of blades drew closer to him. The glinting wave of weapons reminded him of a conversation he had with his son one night. It seemed so far away…it was, after all, three years is no short time.
###
"Hey dad" called Elias on their way home
"Yes Eli?"
"You always told me that a good weapon needs a good name"
"And" Isaac rolled on suggestively
"Well, what's yours?"
###
The look of melancholy on Isaac's face faded into one of savagery just as quick as it came to. His gigantic axe materialized in his hand as he gripped it with strength.
Jade-green colored runes came to life atop the war axe's body, pulsating with strength and serpents of electricity snaked down his arms feeding the runes more energy, giving birth to Isaac's unique magic; storm magic. The entire weapon emitted a greenish-blue glow upon feasting on Isaac's Aeter.
Visha's face scrunched up in annoyance as a tinge of fear found its way between the cracks. Clicking her tongue, Visha readied herself to intervene, knowing very well that this was no easy fight, even with Isaac wounded.
Raising his axe wielding arm towards the night sky, Elias generated power with momentum and struck the earth with his weapon of destruction
"HAN CAKRAVATA"
With Isaac as the eye of the storm, all the assassins were blown away as a surge of wind and lightening pushed them back powerfully, breaking down trees with their bodies.
Visha did not waste time, she ran between the bodies thrown in the air and swung her weapon at Isaac with elite precision and deadliness.
Plugging his war axe out of the earth Isaac faced Visha and rushed at her like a madman.
Both warriors charged at each other with their infamous weapons drawn and prepared for a legendary battle.
"KALI! GIVE ME STRENGTH!"