Prelude: The Guardian as Old as Time
Sept 24, 2016 9:39:55 GMT -5
Post by Max Strider on Sept 24, 2016 9:39:55 GMT -5
It could have gone much worse.
Max Strider hung by his calloused hands on the a side of a ravine. His fingers were caked with dirt, moss, and other traces of the environment. The only thing that kept him from getting tunnel vision toward the sharp crag below would be the repetition of a mantra: Don't look down. The young Brawler had quite the dilemma, being a certain ways down the side of the ravine and unable to quickly climb up or down to safety. His heart leapt into his throat. He had never know fear like this before. Had he faced death? Yes. But this was something entirely different. His pulse quickened, adrenaline coursing through every muscle when he made his first move. Natural cracks in the rock gave him foot and hand holds, but nevertheless, they were shallow. Slowly, but surely, the Seeker made his way down, muscles tensed, his senses hyperaware. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until his toe couldn't find a groove within the stone. And then he looked down.
Max approximated he was at least 500 meters from the ground. Jumping from this height would prove fatal. Staying where he was would prove impossible. The strain on his limbs would be too much, and he might fall anyway. Sweat began to accumulate from his hands and feet, and soon, his hold on the rock would begin to wane. Max's breath hitched, knowing full well what the end result would be. He closed his eyes, tried to control the fear. What good would it do?
"You, who wish to conquer the Earth..."
A disembodied voice had spoken, echoing around his ears like a voice would in a cave. It deeply resounded in his whole form. It made Max tremble.
"You, who braves the most perilous of voyages..."
"I ask you, why?"
Max knew the answer. More than anything in the world he knew the answer.
"To escape my past."
"The past is forever a part of oneself. It is inscribed in the rings of the trees, weathered into the heart of the stones. I am as old as the Past. You can never escape that."
"Did you have to fight to stay alive?"
"I had to fight for everyone's survival. I had to protect this place you see before you. What do you know of crisis, or true struggle against forces beyond your control!"
The exclamation causes the surrounding crag to shake. Max, for a single second, felt the weight of gravity on his chest, pushing him down to the dark below.
"You who tempts Fate with Peril. Tell me your name."
"Max. Max Strider."
"I am P R O M E T H E U S, the Stone Fist, the King of Golems, the Bakugan as old as Time."
"As old..as time?"
"Yes. And I will accompany you on your journey. You are seeking something, something you cannot truly see. I will become your Guardian."
"Why? Why help me?"
"Your conviction. Simply put, you're resolve to always change your situation. To flee, or to fight. To run, or to fly."
"I can't fly."
"Who said I was speaking literally?"
Max found himself smiling at this, and suddenly felt cool earth beneath his feet. An old, weathered sphere with copper accents lay at his feet. The sphere opened, revealing a caricature of the one called Prometheus. Strider took the Subterra golem into his open palm.
"Max. You have given me reason to leave this place. Your reason. You will die as you have lived."
"And how will I live?", the question was asked as the pair now walked through the ravine, and soon found themselves on a forest path. The question had not been answered. They came across a stream, followed its winding serpentine path, until a harbor was seen not too far off from the water's edge. The question had still not been answered. Prometheus was perched on Max's shoulder.
"How will I live?"
The boat was small, but it would do. It would take them where they needed to go.
"Things are going to start changing, very soon. I can feel it in the stones. And as for you, that's something only you can answer."
The man that had offered them the ride said he was heading back towards one of the eastern cities. Back towards civilization, he joked.
"Finding you, changes everything too."
"Hopefully, for the better, young Strider."
Max Strider hung by his calloused hands on the a side of a ravine. His fingers were caked with dirt, moss, and other traces of the environment. The only thing that kept him from getting tunnel vision toward the sharp crag below would be the repetition of a mantra: Don't look down. The young Brawler had quite the dilemma, being a certain ways down the side of the ravine and unable to quickly climb up or down to safety. His heart leapt into his throat. He had never know fear like this before. Had he faced death? Yes. But this was something entirely different. His pulse quickened, adrenaline coursing through every muscle when he made his first move. Natural cracks in the rock gave him foot and hand holds, but nevertheless, they were shallow. Slowly, but surely, the Seeker made his way down, muscles tensed, his senses hyperaware. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until his toe couldn't find a groove within the stone. And then he looked down.
Max approximated he was at least 500 meters from the ground. Jumping from this height would prove fatal. Staying where he was would prove impossible. The strain on his limbs would be too much, and he might fall anyway. Sweat began to accumulate from his hands and feet, and soon, his hold on the rock would begin to wane. Max's breath hitched, knowing full well what the end result would be. He closed his eyes, tried to control the fear. What good would it do?
"You, who wish to conquer the Earth..."
A disembodied voice had spoken, echoing around his ears like a voice would in a cave. It deeply resounded in his whole form. It made Max tremble.
"You, who braves the most perilous of voyages..."
"I ask you, why?"
Max knew the answer. More than anything in the world he knew the answer.
"To escape my past."
"The past is forever a part of oneself. It is inscribed in the rings of the trees, weathered into the heart of the stones. I am as old as the Past. You can never escape that."
"Did you have to fight to stay alive?"
"I had to fight for everyone's survival. I had to protect this place you see before you. What do you know of crisis, or true struggle against forces beyond your control!"
The exclamation causes the surrounding crag to shake. Max, for a single second, felt the weight of gravity on his chest, pushing him down to the dark below.
"You who tempts Fate with Peril. Tell me your name."
"Max. Max Strider."
"I am P R O M E T H E U S, the Stone Fist, the King of Golems, the Bakugan as old as Time."
"As old..as time?"
"Yes. And I will accompany you on your journey. You are seeking something, something you cannot truly see. I will become your Guardian."
"Why? Why help me?"
"Your conviction. Simply put, you're resolve to always change your situation. To flee, or to fight. To run, or to fly."
"I can't fly."
"Who said I was speaking literally?"
Max found himself smiling at this, and suddenly felt cool earth beneath his feet. An old, weathered sphere with copper accents lay at his feet. The sphere opened, revealing a caricature of the one called Prometheus. Strider took the Subterra golem into his open palm.
"Max. You have given me reason to leave this place. Your reason. You will die as you have lived."
"And how will I live?", the question was asked as the pair now walked through the ravine, and soon found themselves on a forest path. The question had not been answered. They came across a stream, followed its winding serpentine path, until a harbor was seen not too far off from the water's edge. The question had still not been answered. Prometheus was perched on Max's shoulder.
"How will I live?"
The boat was small, but it would do. It would take them where they needed to go.
"Things are going to start changing, very soon. I can feel it in the stones. And as for you, that's something only you can answer."
The man that had offered them the ride said he was heading back towards one of the eastern cities. Back towards civilization, he joked.
"Finding you, changes everything too."
"Hopefully, for the better, young Strider."
Prometheus :: 500G