10-21-2015, 09:50 PM
“They’re not stupid, little man. Some people just don’t have the gift. That doesn’t make them worth less than us and we should still take care of them.”
“But it does. Mom even said that they were unworthy.”
“Mom doesn’t know everything,” her tone was curt, and hushed. “Don’t tell her about this. But try to see things my way. All people are worth something, and everyone has a part to play.”
“You’re the only one worth anything to me.”
“Don’t say that-”
“It’s true. Nobody likes me anyway. Why should I like them?”
“That’s not true. People ask about you all the time. You just have to… try not to push people away.”
“You know that won’t work.”
“I… have to go, now. Mom will be looking for me.”
“Schala…” he trailed off, worrying his little fingers together.
“Yes?”
“The… the Black Wind is really strong tonight.”
“I know, I can hear it, too.”
“Just… be careful, ok? Something’s going to happen soon.”
“I know. I will. I’ll be back soon, Janus.”
He woke with a start – bewildered by the thunder of the enormous crowd which surrounded him. Magus lay on the muddy floor, bleeding from the face and head, staring up at the open sky above. The wizard lolled his head over to one side and spied the assassin he’d been dueling against on the ground, stunned, as he had been.
The Black Star began to stir, and it was that movement that sparked the will within Magus to bolt upright with an anguished groan. His vision blurred and, for what felt like a very long time, he wasn’t sure if he’d fallen back down or if we was about to pass out again. Or both.
Finally, his vision cleared and his feet found their way beneath him, just as the Black Star sat up.
“You’re beaten, boy. No greater than a god after all.”
The kid went for his scythe but Magus’ boot beat him to it, sending it clattering uselessly out of reach. He looked up at the pale harbinger, at the blood seeping from porcelain skin and the glowing, red eyes glowering down at him.
“Then do what you’ll do. I’m not afraid.”
“I know,” Magus regarded the kid for a while, and raised up a palm, summoning a bolt of gloom in his open hand. “Fear is what separates greatness from weakness. I’ve turned fear into a weapon, but it is useless against you.”
The Black Star said nothing, but his gaze never faltered; never broke contact with Magus’ demonic eyes to so much as glance at the weapon he was creating before him.
“You remind me of a swordsman I once travelled with. He never knew fear, either, and he knew how to harness greatness. And so will you. Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I’ve an experiment to perform. I still don’t know if Primes actually come back from the dead after being killed or not. I’d like you to prove it to me.”
The assassin didn’t respond.
“I am going to kill you, but I hope to cross paths with you again. You’ve gained my respect but you’ve also made me very, very angry; I will take no small measure in satisfaction at what happens next,” Magus didn’t wait for a reply as he aimed the Gloom at the Black Star.
He loosed the bolt and it punched clean through the Black Star’s head. Smoke coiled from the sizzling excavation and the assassin crumpled onto the floor, the last hallmark of life exiting his body and collecting in a large crimson pool beneath his head.
Magus didn’t acknowledge the crowd or their cheers, their bloodthirsty lust for what he’d just given to them like festering scraps to mangy dogs. He simply vanished in a puff of sickly, purple-and-green smoke and strode out of the arena, even as the fighting continued to rage around him.
“But it does. Mom even said that they were unworthy.”
“Mom doesn’t know everything,” her tone was curt, and hushed. “Don’t tell her about this. But try to see things my way. All people are worth something, and everyone has a part to play.”
“You’re the only one worth anything to me.”
“Don’t say that-”
“It’s true. Nobody likes me anyway. Why should I like them?”
“That’s not true. People ask about you all the time. You just have to… try not to push people away.”
“You know that won’t work.”
“I… have to go, now. Mom will be looking for me.”
“Schala…” he trailed off, worrying his little fingers together.
“Yes?”
“The… the Black Wind is really strong tonight.”
“I know, I can hear it, too.”
“Just… be careful, ok? Something’s going to happen soon.”
“I know. I will. I’ll be back soon, Janus.”
He woke with a start – bewildered by the thunder of the enormous crowd which surrounded him. Magus lay on the muddy floor, bleeding from the face and head, staring up at the open sky above. The wizard lolled his head over to one side and spied the assassin he’d been dueling against on the ground, stunned, as he had been.
The Black Star began to stir, and it was that movement that sparked the will within Magus to bolt upright with an anguished groan. His vision blurred and, for what felt like a very long time, he wasn’t sure if he’d fallen back down or if we was about to pass out again. Or both.
Finally, his vision cleared and his feet found their way beneath him, just as the Black Star sat up.
“You’re beaten, boy. No greater than a god after all.”
The kid went for his scythe but Magus’ boot beat him to it, sending it clattering uselessly out of reach. He looked up at the pale harbinger, at the blood seeping from porcelain skin and the glowing, red eyes glowering down at him.
“Then do what you’ll do. I’m not afraid.”
“I know,” Magus regarded the kid for a while, and raised up a palm, summoning a bolt of gloom in his open hand. “Fear is what separates greatness from weakness. I’ve turned fear into a weapon, but it is useless against you.”
The Black Star said nothing, but his gaze never faltered; never broke contact with Magus’ demonic eyes to so much as glance at the weapon he was creating before him.
“You remind me of a swordsman I once travelled with. He never knew fear, either, and he knew how to harness greatness. And so will you. Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I’ve an experiment to perform. I still don’t know if Primes actually come back from the dead after being killed or not. I’d like you to prove it to me.”
The assassin didn’t respond.
“I am going to kill you, but I hope to cross paths with you again. You’ve gained my respect but you’ve also made me very, very angry; I will take no small measure in satisfaction at what happens next,” Magus didn’t wait for a reply as he aimed the Gloom at the Black Star.
He loosed the bolt and it punched clean through the Black Star’s head. Smoke coiled from the sizzling excavation and the assassin crumpled onto the floor, the last hallmark of life exiting his body and collecting in a large crimson pool beneath his head.
Magus didn’t acknowledge the crowd or their cheers, their bloodthirsty lust for what he’d just given to them like festering scraps to mangy dogs. He simply vanished in a puff of sickly, purple-and-green smoke and strode out of the arena, even as the fighting continued to rage around him.
![[Image: Magus.jpg]](http://rpnexus.com/sig/miscsig/Magus.jpg)