The Outcast (1)

The Living Legend

Dedicated to WVIVO777 & Wise_Girl2002

PJ characters belong to RR

Apóvli̱tos POV

Time passed, slow at times, but at others faster than Arion. By the time my mind had caught up to it, I had already saved each planet once after a century of work. Some planets weren't disturbed again, others I kept going back to. For example, Letain was one planet that had been ridden of evil for the rest of its existence unless End decided to pay particular attention to it. Dusmon was the planet I was constantly called to by the humons and their daemal companions. The snaktors acting out and getting out of control.

By now I've made a name for myself and figured out how to properly use my gifts. I've upped my fighting style adjusting to the wings and various weapons both physical and power related. I hear what's said about me and the many names labeled by chaos people. It was amusing really.

"The Outcast—forever alone" duh

"The Winged Warrior—deadly beautiful wings"

"Mysterious Lord—divine being that speaks no words, but godly actions" well, half god

"Quick Night—dark assassin"

"Swift Bane—the unseen conquerer"

"Powerful Destruction" this explains itself

And the most common one besides Apóvli̱tos, The Outcast and The Winged Warrior...

"The Living Legend—alive, but legendary, stories that are real"

***Line Break***

Chaos POV

I frowned as I faced my warriors. They were being put out of the action and out of their jobs because of one person. My two co-generals were staring dejectedly as each of the mini model planets flickered green showing no signs of needed action. The four captains stared with them. All troops training and training for the coming war against end.

My generals were also my top assassins that carried out my missions when they weren't leading my armies. The captains under their command but would take a mission if they were unavailable. My commander has just...left due to an unfortunate accident concerning End. I'm looking for a new commander, but both of my generals have refused preferring to co-lead rather than have all depend on their choices to decide whether they gain the win or loss.

Then my thoughts drifted to this new guy. The one I encountered at The Port, Apóvli̱tos. The file I had on him didn't grow anymore than when I first made it, unless you count the names my people have labeled him. Apparently he gained wings, and saved each and everyone of my planets within my galaxy at least once from some sort of evil.

Each time a planets light flickered a distressed color, whether it be red or blue, maybe even purple I sent my warriors, but they always arrived too late. They would appear in time to help finish off the last part of the mission contributing a few minutes, five at most. They would tell me how a figure clad in black cloth, combat boots with a belt holding throwing knives on each side, three daggers strapped diagonally across his chest, and a sword and spear crossed over top a folded purple robe attached to his back overtop his beautiful midnight black wings, would look at them through their mask as the warm orange and soft sea green danced across it and his outfit scanning them before finally looking into their eyes.