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In which I confuse the carp out of you. FISHY! |
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"Im boooooooored."
"Shut up, Shadow."
A white robed young man held a deep black scythe while sitting on the edge of the cliff. The plain in front of him was filled with men at war- the sound of blades and armor, horses, combat and death were easily heard from the distance.
Mostly the death though.
Shadow, now the scythe, groaned again. His wielder was the young looking celestial that led others to the place of judgement.
"Dun wanna." the scythe moaned. "Im BORED."
The Scythe was a useful object- it was a focus for the majority of his powers, the youth knew. It was also sentient, and his only companion in the eons his life had taken.
"You think Im enjoying this? Sitting here, all the 'heres' that we have to watch? Im tired of it too- I'd like to do something other than train with Micheal, or study with Uri- and nothing against the older siblings, but I rather dont enjoy being smothered by Lucy!"
"Except when it gets us something."
"Yes, except for then. I'll admit it! So shut up."
The two sat in relative silence for a while.
"So, who's the mark this time?" the Scythe asked.
The youth sighed, the scythe hated silence."Artur."
"Arty?! COOL! That gives me an idea."
"You know this guy?"
"Uh..."
He materialized the spirit of the scythe- a shadow image of himself. While usually the fun-loving and noisy spirit was forthcoming with information, this time he seemed hesitant.
"I know of him..." the image responded. But it quickly shoved aside his probing. "Im bored, you're overworked.... I have an idea. See, Arty's got this sword, right? Its like us- otherworldy."
"I dont think that's a word, but go on."
"He cant die if he's got it. He's really diligent too- so Im thinking..."
"Wait- if he cant die, how are we supposed to lead him to the next part?!" he exclaimed. Artur had to die- it was in the book! His Book!
"Well... this one will take some work. Putting that aside right now, Lets see how this plays out."
"Well, lets get a closer look at 'Arty' then."
The youth pushed himself off the cliff, and spread his great, black wings to coast over to the battle.
"Look! There's Lance! And Kay! So Merry should be.... Ooh, Az, over there!" the shadow gestured.
On a hill stood a man older than what he perceive- the first time he'd met someone of that power other than his fellows. "Who... who is that?"
"Meriln- well right now. Go over there, he knows what needs to happen."
Guided by the scythe, he winged himself over to the ancient creature. He had never thought himself tall, but at seven foot, he was a decent height above most mortals- however, height had nothing to do with the feeling that he was being towered over.
Merlin could not be more than five and a half feet tall- a large staff seemed to hold up the majority of his weight, but the youth could feel an unearthen power eminating from the weak appearing frame.
"Reaper, I bid thee welcome, for the first time and again." the thing said. "At this point in time, you could refer to me as Merlin- or as the foolish tots playing war over there refer to me- Magi."
The scythe called out in response, "Hiya Merry! We're here for Arty."
"You again..." the mage muttered harshly. "Leave the boy alone, you- you-"
"Buffoon? Simpleton?" The youth suggested.
"Aw, Az, you're gonna hurt my feelings...."
 Azzy Rael · Mon Jan 28, 2013 @ 10:22am · 0 Comments |
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