~Forever Forgotten~ The Tale of Scorned Souls.

This was familiar. It always happened, there really was no denying it, always on cue. The dream was simple. He was lost among a mist so thick, it was as if it were eternal and never to lift. Shadows flitted past him, whispers absorbed his ears with harsh, inaudible tongues. And then in the far reaches of sight, that's where he stood, so far away, so close, it was impossible to tell. Glowing red eyes drifted through the fog consuming him, a deep and guttural laugh followed perfectly in-tune with his minions. This was hell. This was that Nightmare.
Mervil awoke in a cold sweat. Thoughts going back to his unconscious self faded, he forgot everything he just experienced, as usual. He lay in a shabby old house, abandoned for years on the outskirts of this land, no one knew he was there, just the way he liked it. Brushing the thick black hair away from his eyes he arose from his dirty cot, fully clothed in his black cloak. Today was his biweekly excavation to the nearby village down the mountainside, he'd quickly purchase what he needed before the mass majority of villagers awoke, he was more of a mystery then flash and blood to them.
Cold winds were tracing the hillside Mervil called home. Touching lightly against his scar, he shuddered and clotted the robes around him. His humble abode was only two rooms large, holes in the walls and ceiling did not make it comfortable in the slightest. A kitchen with a grimy rusted pot belly stove was to his left, the bed chamber where he now stood led outback, literally into another kingdom. Built perfectly, Mervil did not belong to any land, right on the border he was neutral, but this Hyrule place...he'd rather call his true home more than anything else.
Bundling up a good sack of rupees he dispatched into the dawning light, the village rested far below, a long trek was ahead, it was going to be worth it. Monsters were common place. For some bizarre reason however they never bothered the man, it certainly wasn't hated. Kakariko Village, a grand place compared to his horrid home, he could easily afford a room at the Inn for years, but he wasn't going to show any loyalties or take any luxuries away from others. The ravaged sign came into view among the mist, strange, the journey seemed shorter today to him, getting lost in his thoughts always did that, took up time, took up monotony. But his train of mind was cut short.

"Well, who do we have here?" A snide voice of a man came from behind a dislodged boulder, likely someone involved with the group of bandits Mervil heard about plenty of times on his travels through. "A misshapen straggler eh? It certainly seems you aren't entirely poor" Two men came bearing arms from what seemed to be thin air, they were going to try and mug him, how predictable, how laughable. "How about we make a deal. You give us everything in your pockets and we won't kill you, sound nice?" No reply would be wasted on them, only a smile as he continued to walk. "You've got guts to do that man, aren't you afraid? See normally people don't bring death on themselves, it's usually not that pleasant I've heard." The tallest of the two gruff looking men lashed out with a dagger. Wrong move.

Mervil darted to the left, raising his hand high. Searing flames slithered from his open palms and formed into a sinister looking weapon. Almost immediately the two bandits began to back off. He ignored their frightened looks, he was not going to put up with this idiocy. The Flame Scythe hung by his side and he threw his sack of rupees onto the moist cliffside.

"Look...look guy, we, we didn't mean to make you angry we...we were just." The outlaw was shivering from fright, an expected reaction.

"I don't think this is going to learn you a lesson in the slightest." Mervil's calm voice was like ice, his glare seemed to read them to the very soul. "Souls such as yours aren't worthy to bear life, I think you've caused enough harm for a lifetime, haven't you?" He dashed forward, the two men turned around quickly and made a run for it. The cloaked man merely smirked and used his free hand to do an action through the air. A precipice opened up among the earth, stopping the criminals in their tracks. Fear crossed their vision as the strange man approached them, his flaming scythe casting an evil glow across his face. He pulled back and hacked one time across their torsos, burning through their clothes and onto their flesh. They cried out as they fell to the ground, alive, marked. "Take this as a lesson, those with souls who are not righteous, bloodied, I will not die until they are destroyed, you have been cleansed, take your past knowledge and use it well, you do not get a chance to be marked twice."

The two bandits fled, leaving their weapons behind, they would catch a nice price, would make good gifts...be useful for the men of the village to use...exactly. Mervil snapped his fingers and his weapon disappeared in a puff of smoke, he grabbed his rupee sack and entered town, no one knowing of what had just occurred. The Bazaar was near the other side, no big deal, he wouldn't be seen at this time of day...but off in the Inn, someone was looking out, someone who watched him everyday, trying to figure out his purpose. She disappeared as he cocked his head slightly in that direction for no reason. The pale blue eyes of Mervil scanned the quaint village, oh how it reminded him of home...his wondrous home...his soul yearned...the cries went unheard and he continued with his business.

Who's up next ^_^ ?