Yay, my first fanfiction! ^.^
It's kind of an anthro thingy.
REVIEW HARSHLY. X3 I enjoy being insulted.
If you have any problems with the violence...
Oh well. It isn't even that graphic, so I don't think you will.
Have fun reading. ^.^
THANKS GoH! MY BETA ROXS SOXS. =D
--------------------------------------------------
Ying And Yang – Secret of the Ancient Twilight
Author’s Note:
I own this whole fanfiction and everything in it.
Except for the villains, who my friend owns. ._.
Read and enjoy.
* * * * * * *
It would seem as if the white bear would never stop laughing.
The big bear was rolling on the ground, crying with laughter, tears rolling down his face, at a little comment that wasn’t, in fact, very amusing.
But, since the teddy bear was mad, those that adventured with him didn’t quite care.
The bear was named Uncle, and he wielded god-like powers.
As the God of Randomness and Comedy, he was expected to be godly and all ‘I’m higher than you mortals’.
But he wasn’t. And he liked it that way.
The bear was paranoid, hypocritical, and funny at the same time. He wore a red ribbon around his neck, and his white fur was VERY cuddly. He would have been the perfect teddy bear, besides the fact that he was about 12-20 feet tall, depending on his mood. Uncle had willed himself into existence, and because of that, he was destined for greatness.
Two other animals walked beside him. One was a white tiger, the other one a black tiger.
The giant bear was rolling on the ground, in the direction the group of animals was moving (which happened to be north), and was crying out in laughter.
“A HA HA HA! THAT WAS FUNNY! AHAHA!” in his cute, cuddly little voice, suddenly booming out.
One of the tigers (the white one) calmly asked him a question.
“Uncle, why does this amuse you so? It was only a side comment from Lightfox. Nothing funny.”
Uncle roared his answer back, still laughing.
“Oh, come on, Shadowfox! You should be more loose, and have a laugh a little bit more of the time!”
Shadowfox was FAR from being loose. Also he was FAR from being paranoid, hypocritical, and funny.
As the God of Swordfighting, Combat, and Strategy, Shadowfox was a fierce, giant tiger creature in white armor. He stood seven feet at the shoulder, not including his tail. His fur was white, with blue streaks across his back, and complete circles of blue on his tail, like lines of latitude. Shadowfox’s teeth shined in the fierce sunlight, reflecting the light so that you couldn’t see the white, three inch-long teeth.
He had great intelligence, and stood on his two hind legs, looking perfectly human in that position. With a cool, strong, kingly posture, and the merciless eyes of an assassin, he was a fearsome sight in combat. He reduced the faint-hearted to tears in his presence. His voice was so calm and cold that scared the bravest of the brave. Just word of him coming was terrifying for a town. Plus, Shadowfox wielded the sword Pagothirio, which changed into three other types of swords and could control the wind and the icy strength of a glacier.
Lightfox, the black tiger, jumped into the conversation by noting,
“I agree with Uncle. Why ARE you so tight, alert, and calm, brother? Hmm?”
Shadowfox’s only answer was,
“Because I need to be, brother. As an assassin, I must always suspect anything out-of-the-ordinary. ”
As Shadowfox was calm, cool, alert, and deadly, Lightfox, on the other hand, was almost the exact opposite: homely, peaceful, old, and wise.
He was also a giant tiger who stood seven feet tall at the shoulder, as intelligent as Shadowfox. His fur was jet black, with white streaks on his tail and body. Although he had the same posture as Shadowfox, the light in his eyes, his voice, and his face were completely different. Homely and knowing, in a certain way.
Lightfox only resorted to fighting as a last resort. As the God of Creation, Preservation, and Defense, it was obvious he was liked to preserve, not to destroy. His weapon of choice was the hammer Flamebringer, which was an anvil, forge, and hammer all in one, and wielded the power of the fires of Heaven.
They were slowly progressing towards a castle, which housed the evil being called Dark Conchu. He was the evil side of Conchu, a powerful warrior who was one of the best ninjas ever known. Thus, they were secretive in all of their movements.
Except for Uncle, of course, who completely gave away their positions.
Five shapes circled above the little misfit animal band, glaring down upon them.
They then sped off, into the distance.
* * * * * * *
The cat sat on the ominous golden throne, thinking about his many options.
He could, of course, destroy them with his MASSIVE army. But that would be too easy.
He could drop boulders on them. But they would be expecting that.
He had sent the vultures.
Once, he had thought of dueling Shadowfox.
No, no, no, too cliché.
“Don’t be cliché, Hungie,” he whispered to himself quietly.
His red ninja clothes were currently hanging in his custom, oakwood closet, with 50 golden diamonds sealed to it. He only had his scarf. Oh, how he loved that old pink scarf.
Dark Hungie was a grey cat -- slim, old, wise, yet as swift and deadly as the best ninja. As the other side of Hungie, the god of Ninjas, Stealth, and Death, he was not totally evil, but not totally good. He was in the middle, balancing in the realm of twilight.
He sighed, and leapt right out of his chair, landing gracefully in front of the oakwood closet. He donned his ninja gear slowly, making sure everything was on right.
Then, he reached for the scabbard and pulled out the sword inside of it.
This sword just looked like a plain old katana to the untrained eye.
However, it was actually enchanted with magic spells to make it nearly unbreakable. The sword, named Calamari, was pure black, its handle a deep bloody crimson, its sheath richly decorated with gold, diamonds, and jewels beyond all dreams and desires. It was said to have a mind of it’s own.
“My friend, it is once again, time to spill blood in the name of our cause,” he whispered to it, patting it gently, as if it was his most precious pet.
He then slid it in back into the richly decorated sheath.
Ominously, the closet doors closed by themselves, and as Dark Hungie walked into the darkness of the shadow of the chair, all was silent. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, a swish, the movement of the wind, and dead silence once again.
And he was gone.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
“Interestingly enough, it looks like we haven’t been greeted,” Shadowfox mentioned as the trio trudged along the burnt-out path towards the giant, dark looming castle in the distance.
After pushing along the path for about fifteen minutes or so, the trio saw a well.
Uncle was the first to notice it.
“Look! Up ahead!” cried out Uncle. “It’s a well!”
“Maybe we can stop and get some water,” Lightfox mentioned, wiping his sweaty brow.
Shadowfox nodded, and bounded ahead of the group, going to check out the well.
As he came up to it, he examined the area ahead of it.
It looked like an abandoned town, from a long time ago. The buildings were rotting, the windows were cracked, and no sign of life was anywhere.
“Still, no reason to take chances,” Shadowfox mumbled to himself, and withdrew his sword, just in case of an attack.
Shadowfox reached for the bucket next to the well and dropped it down, holding it by the rope.
Once he felt there was enough water inside to refill their canisters, he proceeded to pull the bucket back up, grabbing hold of it and heaving it on top of his shoulder.
He turned, and began to walk back to the group.
And that was when the enemy attacked.
* * * * * * *
The beasts had been waiting in the ruins for a long time now.
No food had come in the last months, so the beasts had to eat their own kind to survive.
A battle of the fittest was still being waged in the hellhole of an abandoned town, but once Shadowfox had entered, the creatures had calmed down, and worked together to keep quite.
They were smart.
And they were also quite scary.
* * * * * * *
Shadowfox heard them before he saw them, but that didn’t matter; he knew it was too late.
Waiting for the pain to come, it came; a claw-slash to the back, sending the tiger flying ten feet or so.
In a gracefully motion, the tiger used this energy to flip over, sliding the sword out of it’s scabbard; examining the enemy before it could strike again.
The beasts were strange; indeed, they looked like wolves, but weren’t.
Their red hides were tough as steel, yet wavered in the wind like fur. Their two deadly demons wings sticking out of their backs were sharp and seemed to have a mind of their own; but most of all, the mad, flaming teeth and the red, glistening eyes gave off the sense of an insane bloodlust, a mad rage, a hunger for worthy souls.
“The Fasfaroth,” whispered Shadowfox, and he growled, sliding out his sword.
The Fasfaroth were a race of demons who feasted on the light in humans, enjoying it, corrupting it; leaving the darkness and the insane desire for revenge eventually change the victims into Fasfaroths themselves, insane for revenge against what was done to them.
Ironically, all they did was further the Fasfaroth cause.
The Fasfaroth pack circle-strafed Shadowfox, waiting to see a weak point in his defence.
Quickly summoning his lightweight, white battle armor, the tiger roared and lunged at the beasts.
The battle was on.
* * * * * * *
Uncle had noticed what had happened to Shadowfox, and was stunned when the Fasfaroth pack had blown out of the buildings, and surprised him.
“LIGHTFOX, WE GOTTA HELP!” cried out Uncle, running towards Shadowfox.
Lightfox nodded calmly and proceeded to do the same.
* * * * * * *
As Shadowfox lunged, the Fasfaroth pack did also; they met in the air, and the victor was Shadowfox himself.
Taking aadvantage of the sudden breakup, he rammed a Fasfaroth with his sword, impaling it where its heart should have been; the creature writhed and died instantly, it’s deep black blood sweeping down the ice-cold blade of the sword.
Shadowfox hurled the body off at the other wolf-like demons, and they recoiled, regrouping, then running at him again.
This time, he waited until they lunged; then, he leapt into the air, gracefully using his hand to grab on to one of their heads and promptly rip it off.
The black blood flew everywhere, as he hurled the head into the well, amused at the fact the others hadn’t even noticed.
Big mistake.
As he turned to see where they were, they were already on top of him; slashing, biting, and ripping everything in their way.
Shadowfox struggled under the combined weight of the pack, but then found a weak point in the pile, and hurled them all off; leaping to his feet, he barely had time to parry a neck strike by one of the Fasfaroths.
He then promptly stabbed it in the head, and slashed downward, cutting the thing in half.
The black blood was everywhere now; on the ground, the other Fasfaroths, Shadowfox’s fur, sword, and armor…
It was a bloodbath.
Then, something rose from the well.
The head of the Fasfaroth that Shadowfox had ripped off had regenerated in the water, making a bigger, badder Fasfaroth; and it REALLY wasn’t happy.
Shadowfox didn’t even see the thing as it swiped for his back. He only felt a crunch and his body being sent sailing through the air, landing with another crunch against the ground.
Ignoring the pain in his ribs, he leapt to his feet and launched a counter-assault with a vengeance against the giant Fasfaroth.
Aerial combos were the things he adored; he abused them here, a lot, knocking the creature into the air, then metamorphosing his sword into a broadsword; he launched combo after combo.
Eventually, he finished the demon with a swift uppercut blow, following with a horizontal slash; cutting its wings off and then goring its body to death.
Shadowfox adored the rush of combat, the surge of energy, the taste and smell of blood; his yellow eyes became slits and he grinned in a feral madness.
And he fell down, impaling the ground, causing a shock wave of pure energy to knock all of the Fasfaroth into the air.
Then, for the finale, he slashed the air, cutting all the Fasfaroth in half.
They floated in the air for a moment…then exploded.
Shadowfox smirked, and fell to the ground, just as Uncle and Lightfox rushed to the bloody scene.
“Brother, are you alright?” asked Lightfox, calm as always, but a worried look on his homely face.
“Fine, brother…in fact, I’m…” and at this Shadowfox grinned ferally, “…energized.”
Uncle nodded, glancing around. “Well, you handled that well.
Maybe we don’t need to rush to your aid as much!” cried out Uncle, who smiled.
Lightfox agreed. “Maybe so, maybe so…”
But as the group trudged onward, they would be proved wrong…
Oh so wrong…
* * * * * * *
Well, how do you like? X3
Don't hold back in your reviews, please; I want your opinion, plain and truthful.
Thanks for your comments. ;D
It's kind of an anthro thingy.
REVIEW HARSHLY. X3 I enjoy being insulted.
If you have any problems with the violence...
Oh well. It isn't even that graphic, so I don't think you will.
Have fun reading. ^.^
THANKS GoH! MY BETA ROXS SOXS. =D
--------------------------------------------------
Ying And Yang – Secret of the Ancient Twilight
Author’s Note:
I own this whole fanfiction and everything in it.
Except for the villains, who my friend owns. ._.
Read and enjoy.
* * * * * * *
It would seem as if the white bear would never stop laughing.
The big bear was rolling on the ground, crying with laughter, tears rolling down his face, at a little comment that wasn’t, in fact, very amusing.
But, since the teddy bear was mad, those that adventured with him didn’t quite care.
The bear was named Uncle, and he wielded god-like powers.
As the God of Randomness and Comedy, he was expected to be godly and all ‘I’m higher than you mortals’.
But he wasn’t. And he liked it that way.
The bear was paranoid, hypocritical, and funny at the same time. He wore a red ribbon around his neck, and his white fur was VERY cuddly. He would have been the perfect teddy bear, besides the fact that he was about 12-20 feet tall, depending on his mood. Uncle had willed himself into existence, and because of that, he was destined for greatness.
Two other animals walked beside him. One was a white tiger, the other one a black tiger.
The giant bear was rolling on the ground, in the direction the group of animals was moving (which happened to be north), and was crying out in laughter.
“A HA HA HA! THAT WAS FUNNY! AHAHA!” in his cute, cuddly little voice, suddenly booming out.
One of the tigers (the white one) calmly asked him a question.
“Uncle, why does this amuse you so? It was only a side comment from Lightfox. Nothing funny.”
Uncle roared his answer back, still laughing.
“Oh, come on, Shadowfox! You should be more loose, and have a laugh a little bit more of the time!”
Shadowfox was FAR from being loose. Also he was FAR from being paranoid, hypocritical, and funny.
As the God of Swordfighting, Combat, and Strategy, Shadowfox was a fierce, giant tiger creature in white armor. He stood seven feet at the shoulder, not including his tail. His fur was white, with blue streaks across his back, and complete circles of blue on his tail, like lines of latitude. Shadowfox’s teeth shined in the fierce sunlight, reflecting the light so that you couldn’t see the white, three inch-long teeth.
He had great intelligence, and stood on his two hind legs, looking perfectly human in that position. With a cool, strong, kingly posture, and the merciless eyes of an assassin, he was a fearsome sight in combat. He reduced the faint-hearted to tears in his presence. His voice was so calm and cold that scared the bravest of the brave. Just word of him coming was terrifying for a town. Plus, Shadowfox wielded the sword Pagothirio, which changed into three other types of swords and could control the wind and the icy strength of a glacier.
Lightfox, the black tiger, jumped into the conversation by noting,
“I agree with Uncle. Why ARE you so tight, alert, and calm, brother? Hmm?”
Shadowfox’s only answer was,
“Because I need to be, brother. As an assassin, I must always suspect anything out-of-the-ordinary. ”
As Shadowfox was calm, cool, alert, and deadly, Lightfox, on the other hand, was almost the exact opposite: homely, peaceful, old, and wise.
He was also a giant tiger who stood seven feet tall at the shoulder, as intelligent as Shadowfox. His fur was jet black, with white streaks on his tail and body. Although he had the same posture as Shadowfox, the light in his eyes, his voice, and his face were completely different. Homely and knowing, in a certain way.
Lightfox only resorted to fighting as a last resort. As the God of Creation, Preservation, and Defense, it was obvious he was liked to preserve, not to destroy. His weapon of choice was the hammer Flamebringer, which was an anvil, forge, and hammer all in one, and wielded the power of the fires of Heaven.
They were slowly progressing towards a castle, which housed the evil being called Dark Conchu. He was the evil side of Conchu, a powerful warrior who was one of the best ninjas ever known. Thus, they were secretive in all of their movements.
Except for Uncle, of course, who completely gave away their positions.
Five shapes circled above the little misfit animal band, glaring down upon them.
They then sped off, into the distance.
* * * * * * *
The cat sat on the ominous golden throne, thinking about his many options.
He could, of course, destroy them with his MASSIVE army. But that would be too easy.
He could drop boulders on them. But they would be expecting that.
He had sent the vultures.
Once, he had thought of dueling Shadowfox.
No, no, no, too cliché.
“Don’t be cliché, Hungie,” he whispered to himself quietly.
His red ninja clothes were currently hanging in his custom, oakwood closet, with 50 golden diamonds sealed to it. He only had his scarf. Oh, how he loved that old pink scarf.
Dark Hungie was a grey cat -- slim, old, wise, yet as swift and deadly as the best ninja. As the other side of Hungie, the god of Ninjas, Stealth, and Death, he was not totally evil, but not totally good. He was in the middle, balancing in the realm of twilight.
He sighed, and leapt right out of his chair, landing gracefully in front of the oakwood closet. He donned his ninja gear slowly, making sure everything was on right.
Then, he reached for the scabbard and pulled out the sword inside of it.
This sword just looked like a plain old katana to the untrained eye.
However, it was actually enchanted with magic spells to make it nearly unbreakable. The sword, named Calamari, was pure black, its handle a deep bloody crimson, its sheath richly decorated with gold, diamonds, and jewels beyond all dreams and desires. It was said to have a mind of it’s own.
“My friend, it is once again, time to spill blood in the name of our cause,” he whispered to it, patting it gently, as if it was his most precious pet.
He then slid it in back into the richly decorated sheath.
Ominously, the closet doors closed by themselves, and as Dark Hungie walked into the darkness of the shadow of the chair, all was silent. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, a swish, the movement of the wind, and dead silence once again.
And he was gone.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
“Interestingly enough, it looks like we haven’t been greeted,” Shadowfox mentioned as the trio trudged along the burnt-out path towards the giant, dark looming castle in the distance.
After pushing along the path for about fifteen minutes or so, the trio saw a well.
Uncle was the first to notice it.
“Look! Up ahead!” cried out Uncle. “It’s a well!”
“Maybe we can stop and get some water,” Lightfox mentioned, wiping his sweaty brow.
Shadowfox nodded, and bounded ahead of the group, going to check out the well.
As he came up to it, he examined the area ahead of it.
It looked like an abandoned town, from a long time ago. The buildings were rotting, the windows were cracked, and no sign of life was anywhere.
“Still, no reason to take chances,” Shadowfox mumbled to himself, and withdrew his sword, just in case of an attack.
Shadowfox reached for the bucket next to the well and dropped it down, holding it by the rope.
Once he felt there was enough water inside to refill their canisters, he proceeded to pull the bucket back up, grabbing hold of it and heaving it on top of his shoulder.
He turned, and began to walk back to the group.
And that was when the enemy attacked.
* * * * * * *
The beasts had been waiting in the ruins for a long time now.
No food had come in the last months, so the beasts had to eat their own kind to survive.
A battle of the fittest was still being waged in the hellhole of an abandoned town, but once Shadowfox had entered, the creatures had calmed down, and worked together to keep quite.
They were smart.
And they were also quite scary.
* * * * * * *
Shadowfox heard them before he saw them, but that didn’t matter; he knew it was too late.
Waiting for the pain to come, it came; a claw-slash to the back, sending the tiger flying ten feet or so.
In a gracefully motion, the tiger used this energy to flip over, sliding the sword out of it’s scabbard; examining the enemy before it could strike again.
The beasts were strange; indeed, they looked like wolves, but weren’t.
Their red hides were tough as steel, yet wavered in the wind like fur. Their two deadly demons wings sticking out of their backs were sharp and seemed to have a mind of their own; but most of all, the mad, flaming teeth and the red, glistening eyes gave off the sense of an insane bloodlust, a mad rage, a hunger for worthy souls.
“The Fasfaroth,” whispered Shadowfox, and he growled, sliding out his sword.
The Fasfaroth were a race of demons who feasted on the light in humans, enjoying it, corrupting it; leaving the darkness and the insane desire for revenge eventually change the victims into Fasfaroths themselves, insane for revenge against what was done to them.
Ironically, all they did was further the Fasfaroth cause.
The Fasfaroth pack circle-strafed Shadowfox, waiting to see a weak point in his defence.
Quickly summoning his lightweight, white battle armor, the tiger roared and lunged at the beasts.
The battle was on.
* * * * * * *
Uncle had noticed what had happened to Shadowfox, and was stunned when the Fasfaroth pack had blown out of the buildings, and surprised him.
“LIGHTFOX, WE GOTTA HELP!” cried out Uncle, running towards Shadowfox.
Lightfox nodded calmly and proceeded to do the same.
* * * * * * *
As Shadowfox lunged, the Fasfaroth pack did also; they met in the air, and the victor was Shadowfox himself.
Taking aadvantage of the sudden breakup, he rammed a Fasfaroth with his sword, impaling it where its heart should have been; the creature writhed and died instantly, it’s deep black blood sweeping down the ice-cold blade of the sword.
Shadowfox hurled the body off at the other wolf-like demons, and they recoiled, regrouping, then running at him again.
This time, he waited until they lunged; then, he leapt into the air, gracefully using his hand to grab on to one of their heads and promptly rip it off.
The black blood flew everywhere, as he hurled the head into the well, amused at the fact the others hadn’t even noticed.
Big mistake.
As he turned to see where they were, they were already on top of him; slashing, biting, and ripping everything in their way.
Shadowfox struggled under the combined weight of the pack, but then found a weak point in the pile, and hurled them all off; leaping to his feet, he barely had time to parry a neck strike by one of the Fasfaroths.
He then promptly stabbed it in the head, and slashed downward, cutting the thing in half.
The black blood was everywhere now; on the ground, the other Fasfaroths, Shadowfox’s fur, sword, and armor…
It was a bloodbath.
Then, something rose from the well.
The head of the Fasfaroth that Shadowfox had ripped off had regenerated in the water, making a bigger, badder Fasfaroth; and it REALLY wasn’t happy.
Shadowfox didn’t even see the thing as it swiped for his back. He only felt a crunch and his body being sent sailing through the air, landing with another crunch against the ground.
Ignoring the pain in his ribs, he leapt to his feet and launched a counter-assault with a vengeance against the giant Fasfaroth.
Aerial combos were the things he adored; he abused them here, a lot, knocking the creature into the air, then metamorphosing his sword into a broadsword; he launched combo after combo.
Eventually, he finished the demon with a swift uppercut blow, following with a horizontal slash; cutting its wings off and then goring its body to death.
Shadowfox adored the rush of combat, the surge of energy, the taste and smell of blood; his yellow eyes became slits and he grinned in a feral madness.
And he fell down, impaling the ground, causing a shock wave of pure energy to knock all of the Fasfaroth into the air.
Then, for the finale, he slashed the air, cutting all the Fasfaroth in half.
They floated in the air for a moment…then exploded.
Shadowfox smirked, and fell to the ground, just as Uncle and Lightfox rushed to the bloody scene.
“Brother, are you alright?” asked Lightfox, calm as always, but a worried look on his homely face.
“Fine, brother…in fact, I’m…” and at this Shadowfox grinned ferally, “…energized.”
Uncle nodded, glancing around. “Well, you handled that well.
Maybe we don’t need to rush to your aid as much!” cried out Uncle, who smiled.
Lightfox agreed. “Maybe so, maybe so…”
But as the group trudged onward, they would be proved wrong…
Oh so wrong…
* * * * * * *
Well, how do you like? X3
Don't hold back in your reviews, please; I want your opinion, plain and truthful.
Thanks for your comments. ;D
