What is this place…
A zephyr slithered its way across the melodious tides of the endless violet ocean. Here, nothing seemed to make sense; the sky and the land seemed indifferent, as if two deities had set their differences aside and united - and it was beautiful. But it was incomplete; ravaged, and lifeless. Except for the sole figure, floating through the eternal confusion limply.
For Blair, this was freedom. Everything around him was twilight and calm, so different from what had been happening before all of this - it felt like a century ago now, but that wasn't possible, was it? There was a small burning pain in the back of his head, and as he drifted through this Eden, it became fainter, and fainter, and Blair felt that at least he would be united with the peace he was for so long denied.
Blair’s mind worked, but he flitted on without purpose here - it was a carefree and peaceful existence, he decided. However, the pain was back. Far away, turquoise beams of light seemed to be slicing through the very fabric of the world. What are they? he wondered. The pain grew.
The beams reached further and further out, their luminous fingers grabbing and tearing at the world as it shimmered out of existence. What’s going on?! He tried to cry, but no sound was made, and no-one here was alive to listen to him. The pain now wormed its way through Blair’s body, wired itself to his bones: became him. As the beams of light engulfed everything around him, the pain piqued. The neon tentacles of fate wrapped themselves around Blair, and viciously pulled him through the stone wall of reality.
Blair woke up, and the scene was familiar. The hallucination was gone. The world was now verdant plains stretching beyond the horizon, the moon's light illustrating the chiselled landscape. The clouds floated softly overhead - a remnant of the peaceful universe that had been stolen from Blair, and as he looked onwards he noticed the distant shape of a pylon rising from the earth.
He tried to stand up, but his body was tired, and the searing pain was still embedded in him. Whatever he tried to do seemed to be in slow motion, and he sobbed a few incomprehensible words before a brutal force hit him across the face.
Blair’s senses flooded back to him in an instant, and he whirled round - the slow mobility had vanished. The male figure he vaguely remembered stood before him once more, brandishing an iron pole.
“Oh good,” the man’s heavy voice taunted, “I thought you were dead there for a moment.” Despite his cynical tone, he actually look relieved.
“Apologies, I do try my best though,” spat Blair. The man narrowed his eyes and grunted.
“Such an anarchic attitude is not advised in times like these…”. He began pacing, back and forth, back and forth… “My patience is by no means boundless. But then again, you’re all the same at the end of the day, your lot, aren‘t you?” He stopped, twirled the iron pole in his hand and then pointed it at Blair. “For example… all of you have your price. What’s yours, Blair?”
The man’s use of Blair’s name made him flinch, and he now realised that he was bleeding in several places. The pain was becoming too overwhelming, and he struggled to put on a brave face.
“There isn’t a price great enough for the knowledge you seek.” But how does he know my name?
“So I’ve been told.” The man’s collectiveness was broken as he lashed out with the iron bar and whacked Blair across the shoulder. Blair felt himself cry for the first time in years, and was left breathless by the force of the sudden outburst.
“Think about it, Blair,” the man reasoned, “five names for your life. I think that’s a fair price, I‘d say - I’ve heard it’s quite a fun experience, living. Who’s going to find out it was you when they’re all dead?"
He seemed to ignore the numerous flaws in his diabolical proposal as he rambled on. Blair fell to the ground in pain. His body was giving up the battle. He shook his head.
“You will die. You can look for them - you won’t find them. They’re too smart for you.” Blair laughed - a wheezy, forced laugh. “And after you’ve blazed a trail in your fool’s errand…” - Blair stared directly into the man’s eyes now - “…they will slice you into little pieces.”
The man, however, saw through Blair’s noble persona, but not after nervously considering his prediction.
“It was a nice speech, but you have no faith in what you say. Your traditions were based upon lies - it’s what you’re best at. But you do not convince me. Now, one last chance. The names.”
Blair shook his head weakly, and managed a crooked grin.
“So be it,” said the man. “I am sorry about this, Blair…but perhaps it was my fault to go after you first. Now I just have to seek out some of your minions - I’m sure they’ll be easier to persuade, and you leave me no choice.”
As the figure pulled out a pistol from underneath his black robe, Blair thought deeply. He did not think, as one might expect, about his life, or see it flashing before him, but about the errors of his ways, the man’s ways - of humanity’s. So much had been sacrificed so far to save the alleged secret, and now, it seemed, that at the hand’s of one man it would all be in vain. But who was really to blame? No matter what, Blair knew that if this man got his way - every last one of them, human and Pokemon alike, would die.
In “protecting freedom” he and his comrades had began the spiralling, suicidal downfall into oblivion - they had poisoned the world. And now, this man and any who followed him would make them pay with the tribulation that would wipe them out.
A single shot entered Blair’s chest, and he fell slowly to the side. Perhaps this was mercy, Blair’s final thought rang, compared to the onslaught that will follow. Lord Almighty, deliver us… After merely seconds of ghastly silence, a pair of eyes were closed forever.
To certify Blair’s death, and simply out of anger that his plan so far had been unsuccessful, the man fired four more shots into Blair’s body, but it was aimless - the first shot had finished off his defeated soul. Now, he would hide the body in such a secretive way that, surely, nobody would ever find it. One does not deserve celebration in death when it has been cheated so many times before, he reasoned. Afterwards, he faded back silently to the nearby city as the morning sun rose over the hills.
This is the beginning of the end.
Well, firstly dear reader, I'd like to thank you for ignoring my post count and taking the time to read this prologue.
Admittedly, this is my first attempt at anything "fan-fiction", but this is the prologue for the work I am soon starting, Apostasy Creed: Tribulation.
As you can perhaps tell from the prologue, I don't want to divulge too much into the plot right now. Partly because I adore fictions that slowly unveil the greater picture of the plot during the story, and partly because: I'm not even sure what exactly happens yet myself! But, I love that factor as well - that way, the readers can't fully predict what's going to happen: if you don't know it precisely, how can they?
Of course, that doesn't mean I don't know where the story's going or what I want to do with it! In short, the fiction will most likely be an action-adventure / thriller type work, with comedy of course as that's one of my favourite genres. Oh, and of course, Pokemon. I'm very interested in portraying Pokemon personalities and habits.
I would greatly, greatly apprecciate feedback on the prologue (which is subject to change, be aware, but it's not going to dramatically change or anything so as to be unrecognizable) or any general tips for improving the flow of my writing, etc.
Many thanks, embargo.