All was dark. The songs of myriad tiny birds fluttered into knowing as sunlight came into view, streaming from the cracked wall of some small, dark room.
Illuminated now was a table, which held on its crest a small bowl of stew, evidently from the cauldron above a now-smoldering fire set against the back.
The witness arose from the pine-bough mattress on the crude cot he’d cut & carved. He sipped what he could of the cold broth, & plunged the dish into a basin of water.
Nourished, he unfolded some dark garments which sat on a stone ledge, stretching as he pulled them on.
From the hard floor he lifted his pack, and something clattered out with a crack.
“Shit, shit, shit!” he stammered, crouching to retrieve the item. In his hands he cradled the small, blue stone which was carved like the head of a horse, now fractured in two at the nape.
Looking asides, the greasy-haired teen stooped & held the artifact close to his chest. As he whispered something unintelligible, a shimmering light shone from the fracture as it reformed whole once more.
Despite his best effort, the broken band displayed a paler color than before. Ignoring this, he shoved the thing away. Ducking out through the camouflaged entrance of the small grotto, he started left down a dirt path.
The sun was falling asleep, & cast its golden light against the mountains & trees. The sky, vast & slightly overcast, was stretched with cloudy ribbons of grays, as snow began to flurry about the breeze.
The sight of the sprawling valley brought a tear to the walker’s eyes as he gazed down from the high ridge. In the distance, the buildings of Hignelta stood out above the trees, & the castle of King Landon was just visible further past.
The young man shivered, & pulled the black cloak around his shoulders. As he pulled its hood over his inky hair, a devious smirk pierced through the shadow.
It was dark now as the man, concealed, crunched through the fresh-fallen snow. Betwixt tall forest-poles beckoned the warmth of a cottage hearth.
Glaring into the hoary glass panes, this man watched an old specimen snooze beside the fire. At his feet lay a resting hound, whose flank rose & fell gently with each breath.
Tears of the watcher welled, but were quickly swept away as his eyes twisted with anger (jealousy?) He unbuckled the pack wound ‘round his waist, & set it onto the ground. Squatting & whispering into the pack, he set his hands upon the cloth, & the ice around the item dissipated.
Striding towards the door, he gazed towards the stars which gasped between whisps, stretching intertwined fingers towards their soulful corneas. To the side. Other side. Down, & up again.
His hands staggered towards the portal, & light blasted from his fingertips.
KABLAMACTAGATOY! the door seemed to shout as it shot back & clattered about the parlor. The dog scattered in wincing fright, as the gentleman fumbled for his spectacles.
The intruder levitated inwards with cloak held across his face. As he gently set his feet upon the ground, his arms shot suddenly in angles towards the ceiling.
This wizard focused within his mind, & cast its light-hands into the eyes of the frightened snoozer. With this subtle vision, he rearranged the myriad rods & cones.
Oblivious to these machinations, & in that single instant, the elder saw the sorcerer wither into a wrathful wraith, black in affect & display. Rising again, the cloak spread apart like bat’s wings, & jets of coal-dark fog wafted from all sides.
No longer did he see the face of the young man; instead there snarled a demonic demiurge of dismay, with eyes of pitted flame & teeth like shattered bone.
The dog showed up once more, emboldened & determined to amend its regretful cowardice. It snarled, & bared its maw. As it lunged at the intruder with claws outstretched, the wizard wrenched down & slid across the floor like a snake, casting light into the underbelly of the guard.
The pet chattered as it shrank towards the ground, & chittered as its claws pattered with silly nails, & its tough tail thwacked into a bushel of fur. Where the dog’d been set to fall, a black squirrel squeaked in shameful surprise. Problem abetted, the wraith faced its quarry once more. The elder sank to his knees, rolling every which way on the hardwood & grasping his clasped hands towards the spirit as he begged for his life to be spared.
A look which may’ve been pride flickered across fiery pupils, & the warlock waved his hands in fairy-flutters. Unseen by the gasping guy, he twisted & pulled the waves of sound out through the doorway & into the warm satchel outside.
The horrific apparition sank low once more. As the choking smoke receded, the old man gazed, on all fours & mouth agape, as the hideous monster tightened human again, pulling its leathery wings into a flamboyant bow.
This wicked man of dark tidings & hair wished his audience “Much thanks, & goodnight!” as he ran outwards the night. Leaping away, his fingers snapped, & the squirrel grew into its dog-truth once more. Something wasn’t quite right, however, as the motley colors were stained as they’d been, & the tail remained a bushy bough. It barked & pipped as the wizard sped away, with cute rodent-ears waving in the winds.
Snatching the bag without respite, the trickster flew parallel & prone against the ground, with one hand clenched ahead of him, & the other clutching the bag tightly. So he sped silently & laughed a great, hearty cackle which he pushed against the mountain cliffs so it echoed throughout Mizzelay.