An awakening
Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 1:14 am
Something stirred in his mind. A noise, perhaps a voice? Silence once again drifted over him and started to drift back into his eternal dream. Some time later, he had no idea if it was days or years , the sound came again. A voice, no voices crying in anger. They rose from a whisper to a wailing, cries pleading for relief. He so longed to drift back into the darkness that had become his world, but the ghost would not grant him leave .
One voice finally rose above the others. Clear, concise and cold, the voice of one no longer living.
"Wake Mordro, you have rested long enough."
He tried to open his eyes, but years of decay held them tightly closed.
"Rise, my old friend, the world has need of us again."
His lips, like weathered leather pulled tight against his teeth, slowly they parted and a rasp of stale breath escaped.
"Your slumber is over, I command you to rise."
Slowly his eyes flicked open and they were greeted by darkness, not the darkness of night but a cold, damp darkness, the shroud of tomb.
"Your Lord has needs of your talents, to many years have passed and you enjoyed your leave far to long."
His arms raised, feeling the cold stone that encased him in his temple of solitude. With a great groan he flexed his stiff muscles and pushed the lid off.
Sitting up slowly he twisted he stiffness out of his neck, bones popping and cracking, the dried skin of his withered flesh strained against the motion. His gazed turned to the north and he rose.
His voice was barely a croak but with great effort he managed a few words.
"I am coming, Abyss, the souls cry to me"
One voice finally rose above the others. Clear, concise and cold, the voice of one no longer living.
"Wake Mordro, you have rested long enough."
He tried to open his eyes, but years of decay held them tightly closed.
"Rise, my old friend, the world has need of us again."
His lips, like weathered leather pulled tight against his teeth, slowly they parted and a rasp of stale breath escaped.
"Your slumber is over, I command you to rise."
Slowly his eyes flicked open and they were greeted by darkness, not the darkness of night but a cold, damp darkness, the shroud of tomb.
"Your Lord has needs of your talents, to many years have passed and you enjoyed your leave far to long."
His arms raised, feeling the cold stone that encased him in his temple of solitude. With a great groan he flexed his stiff muscles and pushed the lid off.
Sitting up slowly he twisted he stiffness out of his neck, bones popping and cracking, the dried skin of his withered flesh strained against the motion. His gazed turned to the north and he rose.
His voice was barely a croak but with great effort he managed a few words.
"I am coming, Abyss, the souls cry to me"