Thursday, June 4, 2009


He will get up and keep going until none remain. Pulling, gnawing, and slashing were once inconceivable movements for his body to execute, but now he fights atop Gryph his flying one-eyed wifflesnork. He can’t stop, it’s not just his own fate that relies on his success in this battle.

He has no other way to obtain the scroll of eternal regeneration of his tribe’s main food source. He is their leader; he is Magmorpheous, lord and keeper of Avitropolis- the bird kingdom. Generations before him have spilled their blood facing this same journey but failed. He will avenger their deaths and bring salvation to his people.

But how? The odds of his survival are slim; he is exceedingly outnumbered and his left leg received a deep cut from the Guardians of the scroll. The Guardians of the six scrolls of cell reactivation scarcely have any natural properties left. Perversions conjured by black magic, they are. Their feathers lost all their brilliant color, as if the dark spell that controls them leaked out and swallowed anything bright. Empty eye sockets filled with milky iridescent fluids stare back at him void of any emotion.

They were once his kinsmen seduced by dark illusions. The weak of mind and heart always fall. A swelling guilt takes over him. Even now when there is scarcely any part of who they were left, guilty reminds him how he has failed to keep them safe. He must push on and destroy the darkness. He will restore the order of his kingdom and replenish their dying food supply.

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