Monday, July 11, 2011

Ch10: Some Kinda’ Hate

    The man in white robes claimed to be a priest at the temple they were headed to, but he didn’t look like any priest Azzen had seen.  He looked to be in his late twenties, had a few days worth of shabby beard, and Azzen could see a black tattoo creeping out of the neckline of his robes.  He didn’t talk like a priest either, letting the occasional curse word slip out.  He seemed a little rough around the edges.  But he was kindly and polite, and he introduced himself as Mathews.
    As they traveled through the city, Azzen took a look at the girl
they had rescued.
    She was about his height and looked the same age.  Her ears were long and pointed into sharp tips, but otherwise, she looked Human.  Her fingers were slender and her skin was fair.  Most of her body was modestly
concealed by a fanciful emerald dress with white embroidery and deep purple lace.
    Her legs were covered by violet and white striped thigh-high stocking and her arms bore matching patterns under long sleeves. 
    There was something else about her though, her whole body seemed to have a tint of violet.  Not a lot.  Just a touch.  Her hair seemed to catch the shade that way and her blush was just a little bit colored.  Azzen thought she was prettier than a petal on a flower.
    But he also thought she seemed a little crazy.  For one, it was way too hot out for her layered outfit.
    "Why were you in trouble back there?" he asked politely to the cute girl.
    She turned to him and smiled with deep almond eyes.  Her fluffy black hair bounced lightly as she walked.
    "Those brutes back there wouldn't leave me alone!  I‘m so lucky you were there to save me," she said.  "I don't even work there.  They caught me on the way out."
    "Caught you?"
    "Well..." the girl sighed, "I didn't have any money, so..."
    Azzen laughed and glanced and Fel, who snorted her contempt.
    "So..." Azzen said cautiously, not wanting to be too nosey in case it was a touchy subject.  "What were they doing?"
    "They held me captive!" the girl exclaimed.  “Against my will.”
    "Yah!  Rotten beasts," squeaked a small voice.
    Azzen looked around to see where it came from, but didn't see
    "Captive?" he asked as he searched for the voice.
    "Yes!" she cried.  “You are so kind.  I am greatly indebted to you!”
    The shabby priest and Fel looked at her worriedly.
    "I must have been held prisoner for..." the girl looked into the sky, searching her memory.  "At least two hours!"
    Azzen laughed, Fel muttered in her own language, and the robed
man just smiled.
    "That's uh..." Azzen said, thinking of his own prolonged
captivity under the Master.  "Well, I mean, you didn't pay, after all."
    "I'm not a slave!" she shouted.  "And those monsters...  They...
They tried to make me..."
    Now Azzen grew more concerned, remembering the big Trolls.
    "They tried to make me show off my feet!" the girl finished.
    Azzen didn't respond, still waiting on the cause of her indignation.
    Fel rolled her eyes.
    "Your feet?" Azzen repeated.
    "Well," the man in robes said, "Elves are known to have very pretty feet."
    Azzen looked down at the girl's shoes and pondered how pretty a
foot could be.  He decided not to pursue the topic.
    The group stopped at a vendor when their escort asked if they
were hungry.  He bought them tasty sandwiches and told Azzen it was
Jackalope meat.  He also bought them some drinks in corked bottles that he called Goblin juice.  Azzen sipped the fizzy drink and tasted alcohol.
    “Are priests allowed to drink?” he asked as Mathews took a heavy swig.
    “Drink what?” the priest asked.
    The black haired girl smiled and shyly touched Azzen’s hand.  “You must be nice,” she giggled.  “Not all lands may be as formal as yours.  You must be from a land far away to be wearing such majestic garments.  Where did you get this cloak?  It’s so smooth on the outside but fluffy on the inside, yet made entirely out of cotton.  May you be a rich General in, your land?”
    “No, uh…” Azzen stuttered.  “More like everybody just wears this stuff where I’m from.”  He knew his clothing was different, but had never really thought about what to say.  Back with the Master, he had worn the rags, so nobody ever noticed except on the first day.  And the boys had never really asked him where he was from.  They had never seemed to care.
    “Oh my,” The elf gasped.  “And are all men where you’re from as handsome as you?”
    Fel snapped at the girl. 
    “Ay.  Fckoff Brunta.  E-Mynge!”
    “What?” Azzen asked.
    “Hmm.  You’re not very Lady-like, are you,” the girl replied.
    “And Man-bating is?” Fel sneered.
    “That wasn’t a question,” the girl quipped.
    “Deal with it,” Fel stated.
    The black haired girl paused for a moment.  Then said, “psh, Merca.”
    The next thing Azzen knew, he was holding Fel back from the Elf.  And then he was trying to catch her as she slipped through his grip and fell onto the other girl.  And then he was trying to pull her off the girl as she repeatedly smacked her in the face.
    Azzen couldn’t figure out what to do and just ended up shouting her name at her as she did it.  When he had her restrained, she calmed down and shouted, “That’s one!”
    The catgirl was practically steaming.  “That’s one hit, Brunta.” she said.  “one word for one hit.  Next time, It’s two.  YaHokay?”
    “You hit me like four times!” the girl shouted,
    “One Whoopin ‘en.”
    “Next time, double, and for the third time. Double that.  You understand?  You wanna use that word, you better be ready to fight.”
    Azzen shrugged and raised his palms.  “Yeah uh, I can’t help you on this one.  She’s a lot faster than me.  If she wants to hit you, she‘s gonna hit you.”
    “If she wants to fight, I’ll oblige her,” the girl replied.  “But a Lady does not brawl in public.”
    Fel spat.  “Yah, they knife you in the back.”
    “No.  We duel.”
    “When do you want it?”
    Azzen waved in, “okay!  Let’s cut this off here.”
    “When do you need it?” the girl asked back, ignoring Azzen.
    “I guess killing you right now, here in public wouldn’t be the best idea, so how bout tonight?” Fel asked.
    “Fine, we’ll go outside the city,” the black haired girl replied.
    "Nevermind that,” Azzen cut in desperately.  “So who's this High Priest, anyways?" he asked, urgently changing the conversation.  The two girl glared daggers at each other.
    “Young Lady,” the Priest said, “you should know that those crude words ought not be uttered.”  As he talked, he gestured and they began walking again.  The girl seemed chastised and after a moment she asked Azzen if he was serious about not knowing who the High Priest was.
    "He know nawthing.  Heefrah nowhereton," Fel explained hotly, moving forward.
    "The High Priest is right under the Arch-Bishop," the black
haired Elf explained politely to Azzen, suddenly in a much better mood.  "There are only three.  One for each region: Elf, Human, and Goblin."
    "Oh, okay," said Azzen, pretending that clarified anything for him.  "Hey, um, I know it‘s kinda late in the game, but I forgot to ask you what your name was.  I'm Azzen and this is Fel."  He made the introductions in the hopes of stemming whatever sort of “duel” the girls had planned.
    "Yes," the girl replied.  "I heard you shouting her name.  How rude of me."
    The girl stopped in the middle of the street and curtsied
    "My name is Celeste Estel Bortraevo Si’Snay Brillianto So’Sui Coomprishe Cornalia Hodwoh Utraevri Mutoya Ohmbraeso.  Princess of the Eleventh House of the Elf Kingdome."
    "Holy hell, that’s a long name!  A Princess?!" Azzen exclaimed in surprise.
    "That's right, Buddy!" a squeaky voice piped from nowhere.
    "Hush," Celeste muttered to no one.
    That would explain her fancy dress, Azzen thought.  And her apparent aversion to work.  But how come she didn't have any money?
    "That's amazing," the boy said.  "I've never met a Princess before."
    Celeste smiled brightly.
    Fel scoffed.  "She's not a Princess.  Juss’a snotty tree-hopper that knows a bit of magic.  The Eleventh House is made of dirt."
    "Hey!" Azzen said.  "Don't be rude."
    The Elf stuck her nose up.  "I wouldn't expect a Red to understand," she said.  "Especially not a peasant Red."
    Fel shot her a dirty look.  "I'd rather be a peasant and a decent person than a groveling tool of a fake noble."
    The man in white robes looked worried as they entered a plaza that led to the High Priest's temple.
    "Whoa,  Slow down for a minute," Azzen said.  "What's 'the Eleventh House' mean again?" he asked, hoping that his ignorance would stem the argument.
    Fel chuckled fakely, "I'll let you go ahead and explain that one, Princess."
    "Well..." Celeste started, looking down and fidgeting with her thumbs.
    Mathews interrupted before she could explain.
"Wait at the fountain please," he said, then left to alert the High Priest that they had arrived.  He seemed nervous.
    Fel laid down on the sidewall of the fountain and closed her eyes. Azzen sat next to her.  He looked at the two larger than life statues in the fountain while Celeste began her explanation.
    "The Eleventh House is part of the Noble Family.  There are fifteen houses in all.  We can all trace our lineage back to the Queen."
    Azzen admired the delicate work etched into the two stone figures.  The more he studied them, the more detail he noticed.  The sculptor had put a lot of love and tender care into this beautiful piece of art.
    "That's cool," he said absently.
    "But that's a long line to trace," muttered Fel.  “Hence, the many names.”
    "Hmm?" said Azzen.  The figures in the fountain weren't what he expected to find next to a temple.
    "She's trying to say that just because I'm not the Queen's niece, that I'm not a Noble," said Celeste.
    "Oh," Azzen replied.
    He had lost interest in the topic.  The first statue was a rugged warrior holding up a sword that was thicker than honey.  His face smiled in a manner that was both comforting and off-setting; as though he knew all your dirty secrets.
    "Oh please," Fel said sitting up.  "You're an eleventh cousin to
the Queen.  I don't even know my second cousins!  Have you ever even met
    "Of course I have!"
    "Yah!" squeaked a voice.  "We met her once."
    Fel laughed.  "Yah, I thought so."
    Azzen wanted to ask about the strange squeaky voice, but the statues were drawing him in.  He waded into the fountain to get a closer look.  The cool water rippled around him.
    "What are you doing?!" Celeste exclaimed.
    Azzen ignored her and Fel eyed him curiously.  He touched the foot of the first statue.  The warrior was warm to his hand and a flash of intense emotion swept through him.  It was love.  Irrevocably pure love for all beings, but most purposefully directed towards the figure beside him.
    The other statue was a woman.  The supple curves of her musculature were apparent from the scant clothing she wore.  She rested a double ended spear on her shoulders and draped one arm over it while her other hand held it steady.  Her smile was mischievous and the look in her eyes said that she cared little for authority.  She had cat ears.
    A Pria, Azzen thought, also noticing the tail.
    He looked at her face and then at Fel.
    "She looks like you," he said.
    "Well she should," replied Fel, seemingly annoyed.  "That's Pria, the mother of our race."
    "No, she REALLY looks like you."
    Fel glanced up.  "Yeh," she said.  "Same hair style."
    "No, more than that."
    "Thanks," Fel said as she pushed off the side of the fountain and wandered away.  "I’ll try to take that as a compliment."
~Secretly, I thought I looked like her too.  But at the time, I was just trying to blend in and live my own life.  Especially back home in my Pride, I would get compared to her a lot.  It gets old.  And I mean, come on, those are just sculptures.  Who’s to say that’s what she really looked like anyways?~
    Azzen looked back at the statue.  The two Pria’s faces were similar, but there were subtle differences.  The statue’s slack posture made her look comfortable and feral, like she had grown up in the slums of a rainforest. And also, she had claws arching out of her fingertips.
    "She kinda looks like her," Azzen muttered to no one.
    "That girl?" Celeste exclaimed.  "No, she's not nearly elegant
    Azzen disagreed, but finally turned to get out of the water.
    "Who's the other guy?" he asked.
    "That's Drake," Celeste replied dreamily.  "They were lovers.  It's really a beautiful story, if you hear it all the way through.  But basically, the two of them banished evil and sealed away the God of Darkness.  Drake was the only true White to ever live."
    The man in white robes returned and looked questioningly at Azzen’s soaked clothing, but didn't mention it.  Instead, he told them that the High Priest refused to see them.
    "Oh," said Azzen, hoping that they hadn't done anything wrong.
    "He says your souls are not yet harmoniously aligned..."
    "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Fel demanded.
    "Yah!" Celeste chimed in.  "My soul is as harmonious as they come!"
    "We've got more harmony that a barbershop quartet!" squeaked the
unseen voice.
    Azzen didn't want to cause a scene.
    The robed man smiled mischievously.  "You aren't ready to hear what he has to say yet."
    "Oh, we'll see about that," said Fel, marching towards the temple.
    Celeste hopped into step behind her.  Azzen looked apologetically at the robed man.
    "Stop!" the man shouted.  "You can't go in there!"
    "You say come," said Fel.  "We come.  You drag here, now say noh.  Naw.  We go in."
    Celeste smugly agreed.
    Azzen jogged to catch up with the girls as they entered the foyer of the temple.  He wondered why the robed man didn't try harder to stop them.
    The foyer opened into an empty grass courtyard lined with pillars.  Azzen thought it was odd that there was nobody around.
    In the center of the courtyard was a shallow pool of still water with two trees growing out of it.  The trees grew up and twisted into each other weaving into a single massive trunk.  They looked like thick legs leading up to a massive body.
    The group approached the center of the courtyard.  Celeste looked worried.  Fel sniffed the air.
    "Something's wrong..." Azzen said, getting a bad feeling.
    All was quiet for just one moment, save for a drip in the water. Then, the ground below them began to rumble and Azzen could hear the
dirt shifting and crunching.
    Rooty vines erupted out of the ground around the courtyard, spraying dirt and rubble while interlacing with the pillars and each other.  The group soon found themselves in a web-like cage,
    A woody moan echoed ominously through the temple.
    "NawNoh..." said Fel.  "What going on?"
    "The High Priest!" exclaimed Celeste.  "He's punishing us!"
    Azzen looked around for danger when he saw the trunk of the tree begin to lean forward.
    Azzen, Fel, and Celeste backed up cautiously.  The tree continued to bend until it was only a few feet above their heads.
    Azzen worried it would snap and fall on them, but the group stood their ground.
    Ten gnarly knots in the trunk twisted open to reveal glaring eyeballs and a crack in the bark split wide into an angry maw.
    "A Dendroid Sentry!" Celeste yelped.
    The tree monster furrowed it's twiggy brow and roared a howl at them, shaking in rage at their intrusion.
    It snapped back up and twisted to swing a heavy branch at the three flesh creatures.  The limb whipped through the air so fast that none of them
were able to dodge.  All three were swept off their feet and thrown into the wall of their viney cage.
    Celeste was the first one back on her feet after they landed in a pile.
    "Quick!" she shouted at Fel.  "Burn a hole out!"
    Fel’s hands lit on fire and she grabbed at the thick roots.  But they were too fresh and it was taking too long to burn them.  Another branch swung around, forcing the group to dive to their bellies to avoid being hit.
    “What are you doing?!” Celeste cried.  “Just throw a fireball!”
    "I can't do that!" said Fel.
    "What?!" cried Celeste.  "What kind of a Red can't make a fireball??"
    "Shut up!" said Fel.  "Nobody taught me nothing."
    "Move!!" Azzen exclaimed.
    The tree had leaned towards them and was speeding forward like a
leafy battering ram.
    Fel and Azzen dove one way and Celeste went the other.
    "Azzo!  Brun'Taros!" Fel shouted.
    Azzen didn't know the word, but got the gist of her meaning as
the girl's veins lit up and she charged forward.
    The tree growled and shivered, shaking it’s leafy head violently.  Little black spots flaked out of it’s branches and into the sky.  Azzen looked up to see what they were.
    When the little spots came down, they weren’t so little anymore, they were fat bodied spiders with skinny legs and long fangs.  The little beasts were the size of bulldogs.
    Celeste “Eeked” cutely as she ran forward and punted one like a soccer ball.  Azzen started to laugh as he stared, but more spiders were swarming around him and Fel.
    “Azzeh juss run.  Aim centah!” Shouted Fel as she swatted away a leaping spider and took off.
    The tree twisted and sliced its branches at her, one after the other.  Fel ducked and wove and dove forward into the thicket of foliage.  Azzen followed her lead.
    A thicker branch came out of nowhere and sent him rolling.  A gang of bulbous spiders skittered after him.  He caught a glimpse of Celeste as he flew.  She had found a big stick and was chasing down the little spiders whack-a-mole style.  The poor critters weren’t even attacking her anymore, they were terrified.
    Fel jumped up and clung onto a sweeping tree limb it as it waved through the air.  The catgirl scrambled up the swinging branch towards the trunk of the tree and leapt forward at its eyes.
    Her body flew through the air.  Both fists held the knives she’d found and each blade slammed all the way into a separate sappy eyeball. 
    The tree roared in agony and stretched backwards, then snapped upright, sending the catgirl flying like a ragdoll.  Fel's body smashed against a pillar and crumpled to the ground.
    Azzen kicked spiders away while he got up and worried about her, but he saw that Celeste was already running to her, so he turned his attention back to the enemy.
    This time, he moved forward carefully and expertly avoided each rambunctious branch.  He made his way to the shallow pool and charged
forward at the two leg-like trunks.  When he reached them, he began
pounding away with his fists.
    Chips of bark flecked off, but it was hopeless.  Azzen's
knuckles became raw and bloody, but he kept swinging anyways.
    The boy heard a scream.  He looked back and saw Celeste's body
skip across the courtyard.  Where she landed, the tree was swinging a
massive branch down like a hammer.
    Before he could even think to move, he saw Fel dart after her.
The Pria tried to shove Celeste's body out of the way, but she was a
moment too late.  The branch ended up flattening both of them.
    Azzen's heart stopped beating and his blood ran cold.  His whole body froze and he watched the world move in slow motion.
    When the branch lifted, Celeste had been spared, but Fel's
entire hips, waist, and legs were a bloody splatter of shattered bones.  Her body was convulsing slightly as though she were having a panic attack and her eyes looked wide at no one.  After a moment, the catgirl didn't move at all.  Didn't even twitch.
    Azzen's heart started up again, but this time, it was beating a hundred-million times a minute.
    This can't be happening, he thought.  She can't die.  She can't...  She can't die to a stupid tree!
    Azzen roared like thunder and his eyes glazed over as rage consumed him.
    He rounded on the tree and smashed his fist into it.  His clenched hand drove all the way through the trunk and out the other side.
    The possessed boy pulled his arm out and grabbed the trunk in a
bear hug, like the one the Troll had had him in earlier.  His muscles
bulged to twice their normal size and his veins swelled around his arms.
He twisted and ripped the trunk off of its roots in a shower of
splinters and debris.
    Still holding it, he swung around in a full circle.  The Monster Tree ripped in half up the center as Azzen wrenched its legs apart.
    Azzen kept his swing going and slammed his giant tree-bat into
the other leg with so much force that both trunks shattered on impact. 
    The huge Dendroid monster fell into pillars, smashing them to rubble.  The fragments drooped to the ground, still intertwined in the rooty web.
    The tree monster was defeated, but Azzen didn't care.  He kept beating on the trunk and snapping apart thick branches like little twigs.
    Nothing mattered anymore.  Nothing mattered to the boy.  Fel was dead and nothing else mattered.  He would destroy it all.  The whole world, if he could.
    "Azzen..." a voice came from behind him.
    Azzen whirled around.  It was Celeste.
    She was part of this, he thought.  Without her, Fel would still be alive.
    Azzen stumbled forward, marching towards the Elf girl.
    "Azzen?" she repeated nervously.
    Azzen's eyes were dead and foaming hatred dripped from his mouth.  The only thought on his mind was that this was the Elf’s fault and that she needed to die.
    "No!  Look out!" a voice called to Celeste.  It was the white robed man. "He's gone berserk!"
    Azzen lunged at Celeste before she could react.  He caught her by
the throat.  The boy squeezed slow.  He wanted her to suffer.  He wanted to make the whole world suffer.
    A cloud of dust exploded around Azzen's face.  His grip loosened.  His eyelids drooped.
    The last thing his glazed eyes saw before he passed out was the
robed man holding a handful of sleeping powder...
Azzen woke up to low voices conversing.  He opened his eyes slowly and groaned.  His head was pounding like there was some foreign thunder god trying to hammer its way out.
    “He’s awake,” a voice said.
    Azzen felt a hand on his forehead and his mind was instantly cooled.  The pain slipped away and the boy groggily sat up.
    He couldn’t remember anything… there was an Elf… and a tree… and…
    “Fel!” he shouted, remembering what had happened.
    “I’m fine,” said a voice.
    Azzen looked over and saw the catgirl kneeling beside him.  He closed his eyes and laid back down in relief.  It must have been a nightmare.
    “Azzen, wake up,” said Fel.  “We have things to talk about.”
    Azzen sat up again and looked around.  They were in a simple room of the temple with straw mats to sit on.  Fel was with him, along with Celeste and Mathews.
    “It wasn’t a dream…” Azzen muttered, looking over at Fel.  “You’re alright?”
    “Yah,” she replied.  “The High Priest healed me.”
    “With the help of Celeste,” Mathews commented.
    “The High Priest?” said Azzen.  “Where is he?”
    “I am he,” said Mathews.
    “Oh,” said Azzen.  “You’re the High Priest?  I thought you were like… a Low Priest or something…”
    “Don’t be stupid,” said Fel.
    “What?” Azzen whined.  “I mean, no offense, but you’re not that old and you’re kinda…” Azzen paused, looking for the right word.
    “Scruffy?” suggested the man in white robes.  He smiled.
    Azzen smiled back, “Yeah.”
    “Well I try to keep in touch with the common man.  I’m not really one for that whole ‘Holy’ act, I think it’s a buncha bullshit, to be honest.”
    Azzen smiled.  He hadn’t expected a High Priest to have such a casual demeanor.  “Well then what was with that act?”
    “You mean, why didn’t I tell you earlier?” the High Priest rephrased for him.  “It’s like I said.  Your souls weren’t in harmony.  Please forgive my antics, but a common enemy is an easy way to bring people together.  And it is a common enemy whom I must discuss with you now; an enemy to all free souls.”
    Azzen glanced at Fel to see if she knew what he was talking about, but she just shrugged curiously.
    The man continued.
    “I’m sure you’re all aware of the dark events that have unraveled in the last few months.”
    “Yes, of course,” Celeste replied.
    Azzen and Fel looked at each other with puzzled expressions.
    “Uh,” Azzen said uncertainly.  “Well, I’m kinda new here…”
    “And I’ve been…” said Fel, “…out of the loop for a while.  Let’s just say I was tied up and didn’t get to hear much news.”
    “Oh,” said the Priest.  “Well I should start at the beginning then…  You all know the story of Drake and Pria, right?”
    “Yes,” said Fel.
    “Uh, sure,” said Azzen.
    “Well then, I’ll be blunt,” the High Priest said.  “Pyureival has returned to our world.”
    Fel stared at the man’s face intently, hoping for a sign that he was lying.  Azzen just stared blankly.
    Fel’s ear twitched.  “What does that have to do with us?” she asked.
~Holy Hell, did the guy notice EVERY time my ear twitched?  And not only that, but he remembers each instance after all this time!  Remember, this is the way he’s telling it, not me.  I swear to god, some of those were just regular twitches.  Get off my back Azzhole!~
    “Uh,” Azzen cut in.  “Sorry.  What’s Pure Evil again?”
    Fel swatted him on the head. 
“Don’t be stupid, Dummy.  She’s the God of Darkness.”
“Oh yeah,” Azzen said.  “Right.  But wouldn’t that be ‘Goddess’ of Darkness then?”
“Shut up.”
“It has to do with you,” Mathews said in answer to Fel’s question, “because there is always balance when the forces of good and evil clash.  Because Pyureival broke into our world, the gods of light are able to send their strength to defend us.  Each side gets a trump card.  In this case, Darkness got their Goddess in physical form with all the powers of the cosmos at her fingertips, and Light got… a prophecy.”
“Oh,” Fel said sarcastically.  “That sounds fair.”
Azzen had to agree.
“Well, we do know,” said the High Priest, “that she’s not completely free yet.  She’s breaking through her seal one piece at a time.  It’s taken her millennia to chip off the first piece, but now that she’s gotten started, we think that she will be free within the year.  We need to collect each shard right as she breaks it off, or else there’s no hope of sealing her ever again.”
“Okay,” said Azzen.  “Sounds simple enough.”
“What does the prophecy say, Holy One?” asked Celeste.
    Fel rolled her eyes.  The Priest smiled.
    “Well, Little One,” he said.  “It states: In the light of the moon, before it‘s quite full, the Red will bear White to the city at night, And the Violet will meet with them too.”
    Fel snorted.  “So I’m the Red and she’s the Purp.  But this clown’s supposed to be the White?  Naw.  No way.”
    The Priest smiled.  “Well, the moon is full tomorrow, and you ARE a Red and a Violet… but you’re right in that it’s not necessarily for sure.”
    “More like definitely not,” said Fel.
    “Actually, many people are taking it to mean that a Violet and a Red will bear a child that will become the next White.  It’s causing all sorts of ‘special’ excitement between lovers of those colors.”
    Azzen laughed, Celeste giggled, and Fel snorted.
    “That’s going to be trouble,” the boy said.
    “It’s like a prophetic pick-up line,” the Elf said.
    “No real Red would go for a Violet,” said the Pria.
    The High Priest chuckled, “Yes.  It’s certainly been making things interesting.  They’re all trying to copulate as the moon waxes, and more vigorously the closer to full it gets.  Hopefully things will calm down by tomorrow night.  And it’s not likely that that’s what it means anyways.  If it is, we’ll be in for couple rough decades of darkness before the child is old enough to fight.  Many people suspect that the White is already born from a coupling that matches the description.  Especial commentation centers around the King and Queen’s son, Albert.  The King is a Red and the Queen is Violet.  But that may just be coincidence.  Prophecies are usually fairly Gnostic, though this one seems pretty straight-forward”
    “That sounds more feasible to me,” said Fel.  “Thinking that this idiot is a White is just dumb.”
    “Yes, Holy One,” said Celeste.  “I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think I’m any sort of fated hero…”
    “Well, if you did, you’d be crazy,” the man smiled.
    “Well, call me crazy then, cuz that sounds about right to me,” Azzen said.  He couldn’t help but think it was destiny.
    To fall into another world.  To gain unexplainable power.  To be sitting here and learn that he’s part of a prophecy.  Isn’t that the workings of a god?
    “So what do we do?” he asked.
    The two girls looked at him like he really was crazy, for having such a nonchalant response, but the Priest smiled brightly.
    “Well first, I want to send you all to magic school.  Fel, your Burning Soul technique is extremely advanced, but in your lone studies, you’ve skipped all the basics.  And Celeste, you may think you heal poorly, but it’s actually because your innate magic is so powerful that you are having trouble controlling its pace.”
    Fel curled her lip, but Celeste beamed.
    “But Azzen.  I’m not sure what to do with you.  You have magic.  You proved that today,” he said worriedly.  “When you went Berserk, that was actually very strong magic at work.”
    The High Priest looked uncomfortable with what he was about to say.  “There hasn’t been a true White for a thousand years, ever since Drake sealed Pyureival.  And you’re supposed to be his successor,” he said.  “But going Berserk… that’s not White magic…  It’s Black.”

No comments:

Post a Comment

Creative Commons License
bleed by E.A. Skanchy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.