Short story

'Boom!' The earth around exploded as dirt splattered everywhere. A massive sapphire hand had cratered the ground, the exact spot where the injured Prince was a split second ago. Before the dust clouds could begin to settle, the blue giant regained its fury of assault; flailing its monstrous arm around, every attack inching closer to clipping the Prince.

Marvellous creature this golem. The Prince thought to himself as he admired the cerulean exterior of the creature. The golem was a towering fifteen feet behemoth of pure mineral, undoubtly of sapphire origins as it gave the colossal brute an unnatural azure shine. It was somewhat humanoid in nature, taking the frame of a well built barbarian and despite its size, the Prince soon realised that it was supernaturally quick and amazingly flexible. He shielded himself just in time as a mammoth punch slammed into him. He felt as though the weight of the world had smashed against him, sending him flying for at least half a league and knocking the wind out of him.

Performing a back flip in mid-air, the disorientated Prince was able to land on his feet, skidding some distance along the sandy ground. He was acutely nimble his whole life being part Slyvian but he knew it was going to take him every ounce of Imprerium blood, the other half of his ancestry; that he could muster to slay the wretched golem.

That was close. He thought to himself as he unsheathed the silver dirk he carried with him at all times. N'hrive or Neverwinter as it was called. The passing of ancient blades have always been the tradition of the Slyvian elves just as Imperiuems pass down their regalia and in the Prince’s case, the Domeduathea. NightMask. Both pieces he owned, Regalia and Dirk were not just prized trophies within the families, but in fact legendary artefacts that had their fair share of combat in the darker times. One mind, any weapon, recalling the words of his father.

Flexibility masters hardness, the Prince muttered to himself as he began preparing himself. He steadied his breathing, shifting the weight of his body, priming himself as the enormous monstrosity charged once more as though impervious to the call of fatigue.

Neverwinter glistened in the sun, making as though the Prince wielded a ball of wispy slivery light in his right hand. The golem, a monument of sapphire blue rampaged forward, a wrecking ball promising banal carnage and cataclysmic Armageddon.

-Zarae.