Delusions of grandeur

Eyes of a person with complete OCA1 (Albinism)

Photo credit: Wikipedia

I can do this” thought Nathanial while he drew in chi, feeling it swirling into his bones.

Now was the time.

Glancing around, he saw the grand hall was empty.

This wasn’t right.  Where was the Grand Magus?

Suddenly he became aware of a presence nearby.  Over in the corner was an old man, dressed very simply in a plain brown tunic.

“Looking for someone?” asked the old man, grinning as his eyes turned red.

Fighting down the terror welling up inside him, Nathanial held his arms above his head as chi envelped his entire body, then in the blink of an eye he launched himself.  Before he got within five feet of the man, he came to a complete stop, his body held in mid-air, chi drained away in an instant.  Looking down at the old man, he saw a tiny speck of darkness formed in the space between his hands.

Voice paralysed with the rest of his body he screamed inwardly as his flesh was ripped from his bones; the sphere eviscerated him, rent him asunder.  The darkness winked out of existence as the old man let his arms fall limply by his sides.

With a sigh, the Grand Magus invoked in his mind the image of his man-servant.  Within the space of a few heart-beats his was by his master’s side.

“Eadric, fetch me a jug of mead and a tankard, then summon the Sergeant-at-Arms to my chambers.”

Eadric disappeared.

***

Full version

“I can do this” thought Nathanial as he stood in front of the doors of the grand hall, head down, arms held out by his sides with palms outstretched while he drew in chi, feeling it swirling into his bones.

When at last he felt he could absorb no more, he raised his head and his eyes snapped open, tiny bolts of lightning branching off around his irises and over his fingers as it traced the lines of his capillaries.

Now was the time.

He could picture the colourful mosaic at the centre of the black stone floor in the hall which depicted the various kingdoms of the empire; he focussed on that now, held it in his mind until it was perfect, then woke up inside the thought and was there.

The hall was vast, its smooth marble pillars rising up to meet great arches which spanned a ceiling covered in painted murals depicting famous wars and monomyths from the empire’s rich history.  Glacing around, holding the chaotic energies in place within his body, he saw the hall was empty.

This wasn’t right.  Where was the Grand Magus?  Had Nathanial been given the wrong information?  He walked slowly towards the throne upon its raised dais, stood in front of the steps and stared at it, searching his mind for answers.

Suddenly he became aware of a presence nearby, turned his head sharply to the left and peered into the shadows.  Over in the corner was an old man, thin and short in stature, balding, dressed very simply in plain brown trous and tunic, compelled by age to stoop somewhat.

“Looking for someone?” asked the old man.

Before Nathanial could answer, he saw the old man grin, eyes turning red.

Fighting down the terror welling up inside him, Nathanial planted his right foot down behind him and, teeth clenched, held his arms out to his sides once more, hands facing palm upwards in a claw-like fashion, summoning all the chi he could so that a sphere of pure white light formed in each.  With a roar, Nathanial held his arms above his head as the two spheres converged into one before enveloping his entire body, then in the blink of an eye he launched himself at his opponent, flying like the wind.

Before he got within five feet of the man, he came to a complete stop, his body held in mid-air, chi drained away in an instant.  Looking down at the old man, he saw him form a horse-stance and hold his hands together, before drawing them apart as a tiny speck of darkness formed in the space between them, air rushing into it with the howl of a tempest.

The old man’s hands trembled with effort as he pulled his hands further apart; Nathanial felt a terrible force pulling him in.  Voice paralysed with the rest of his body he screamed inwardly as first his clothes then his flesh was ripped from his bones, the black point between the old man’s hands swelling to form an orb about the size of his head.  Nathanial blacked out as the sphere eviscerated him, rent him asunder.  The darkness winked out of existence as the old man let his arms fall limply by his sides.

“Everyone has to be a fucking hero” said the old man, bitterly.

With a sigh, the Grand Magus invoked in his mind the image of Eadric, his personal man-servant.  Within the space of a few heart-beats he was by his master’s side.

“Eadric, fetch me a jug of mead and a tankard, then summon the Sergeant-at-Arms to my chambers.”

Eadric disappeared.

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About TheImaginator

35 year old sciolist living in Tokyo. I like swing dancing, Twitter word games, writing, using Stumbleupon.com, reading, and watching movies. I write stuff on my blog occasionally.
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6 Responses to Delusions of grandeur

  1. Teepee12 says:

    Everybody had to be a fucking hero.

    I love it.

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