Related Posts

Reflections

The battle is over. The troops I led have been decimated by the cunning of the merfolk and the sudden, hidden strength of their powerful monarch, attacking our troops under the cloak of twilight from the concealing depths of the Blue River running through the Hidden Wood. The pitifully few elves and centaurs remaining in the army have scattered into their native woods at the edge of the battlefield, never to return. They have learned the wisdom of joining in the battles of sorcerers, at a terrible cost. I remain in the center of the battlefield, alone, with the terrible wisdom that, like I, they will be summoned over and over again. I also know that I cannot join them.

At Dolphus’s word and by his sorcery I am summoned directly to his side. “The final battle will be here,” he says wearily, sweeping his arm about his chamber of sorcery.

I nod in reply, noting that Dolphus has lost the flush brightness of his false confidence. Jerrimax and his cohort of sorcerers have severely wounded his body and his pride and destroyed his defenses. Unbowed, though, Dolphus withdraws a glittering necklace from a worn wooden box and places it around his neck. At his touch I am transformed into the shape of an Enchantress. Again, I cannot complain, only nod in agreement

Which is at it should be.

Share
The short URL of the present article is: http://www.terryobrien.me/A4ayv

Page 4 of 6
First | Prev | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | Next | Last
View All