Arel's arm wrapped about Sheila's waist, the two walked off the premises of the publishing company, leaving behind their work which held so much of them in it. Little did they know, they had just set in place a metaphysical question that would consequently affect one man's life forever.
"Did you just get that weird feeling" Arel said, stopping suddenly.
"Yeah," said Sheila, unsure how to put words to the feeling she knew he was referring to.
Arel continued, "Like we just walked through a "little did they realize" moment?" He wouldn't have had the bravery to make note of the feeling to anyone else. He looked over at Sheila who he was still holding close. She was looking off while she returned his thought, "Yeah, that was weird."
The pair walked on, shaking off the feeling. Questions of metaphysics often catch people off guard.
-------------------------------
Sword blade exploded out of the troll's back, not just stabbing through him, but ripping him apart with grotesque force. That was the strange quality of this sword, it added explosive power behind every swing and thrust. Enemies, when hit with this sword, were decimated. With a rather careless treatment of the power at his finger tips, Leo whipped about the blade, obliterating foes with every swing. The scales that made up his armor had once been black as night, but now they were blood-stained red.
"Arel, that doesn't make sense!" howled a little Sheila, from her place in the game. The stick fortress she stood under was poor as fortresses go, but was a rather impressive lean-to, particularly to be the handy work of a 6 year old.
"What do you mean?" Asked little Arel, a bit annoyed to be taken out of the heat of the battle. "And stop calling me Arel! Its LEO!" as he said the name, his ten-year-old sized chest puffed out a bit.
"Blood turns black when it stains!" Said Sheila.
"How would you know?"
"Trust me," her blue eyes narrowed, as if to insinuate something. "I know."
Arel's eyes widened while the silence made her point increasingly more chilling. There were few six-year-olds that could give Arel the chills like Sheila could.
"It doesn't matter," Arel figured it fruitless to stress the point, "I have blood all over me and that's the point. Now go back into the fortress and I'll save you."
Sheila walked back inside, her head up like a princess. The sticks of the fortress were not very tightly woven together, so Arel was able to see her then crouch down in a very un-princess like fashion. He thought for second to ask what she was doing, but then thought better of it. Shaking his head a bit, Arel put it out of his head while letting their fictitious world come back in. The woods behind Sheila's house melted away, the bare autumn trees became the black towers of a castle. All around him, foes began taking shape. Gripping his sword, which left body parts rather than whole bodies, Arel, or rather, Leo, threw himself into their ranks. The adrenaline took over in the spinning and slashing. It could also be said that Arel's imagination took over, the spins that had appeared so visually authentic in his mind, were thoroughly giggled over by Sheila, peering through the stick fortress. Leo, though, heard none of this. He hacked down the last of the vicious ghouls, to see an armies worth more, but with bows behind him. Their arrows were cocked and soon the sky went black, the steal turning toward him to tear him apart. Without hesitation, Leo was running the other way, ferociously toward the tower he knew he'd find shelter and his princess. His feet pounded the ground knowing any moment the sting of steal cutting through him was only moments away, but hope was just 10 feet. He threw himself in the door way of the tower, but the door didn't give way. It was locked. Leo spun around, raising his shield in the last second, his eyes open to see the glimmer of the arrows closing the last few feet. Then all he saw was the back of his shield and felt the ricochet; the barrage was like a hail storm from hell. When it ended, Leo peeked out of the door frame. Just above him he saw the tower had been darted with arrows and, with a knew plan of action, he leaped for the nearest one, grabbing it and pulling himself up to the next. There was a window and a light flickering from it. Like he was running on just all fours, he was to the window in no time.
"So where's my princess?!" Leo said it like an invitation to be hugged. Instead, he was greeted by two red eyes. Suddenly the source of the flicker was clear: it was the flame of the dragon crouched in front of him. With wide eyes, Leo was suddenly being thrown out of the castle by the force of the dragon's pounce. Rolling on the ground, Arel tried desperately not to crush in the much smaller dragon-Sheila, but she was thoroughly
a dragon. The two rolled across the leaves, rolling to a stop with one right next to the other.
"I thought you were supposed to be a princess!" Arel said, shooting an annoyed glance to the blond dragon, who only gave a little growl in response.
No comments:
Post a Comment