"You should well know the price of the secrets you seek before seeking them," the crone hissed through yellow-stump teeth. "The price may be well more than you wish to pay, Fool. Are you willing to barter with the Wrembhwicce?"
The hooded figure nodded curtly. The motion was not one of respect, it was one born out of fear. Anyone with eyes to see could tell it.
The crone planted her staff beside her left foot and began walking in a large circle. She moved slowly and deliberately, always turning to the left, counter-clockwise to the hooded man before her. She drug her staff through the powdery dirt of the cave and the path it traced in the dirt mirrored the sign she bore in the place of her eyes. As she paced, she murmured under her foul breath and though he strained desperately to hear the words, the hooded man could make out only bits and parts...
"helico...spiracial...ammon...nautilious....vogel...fermatti...jannos...pspir..."
With each revolution, her words became more saturated with vile hatred and malice. Her voice, though murmured, began to thrum with dripping, black power. Closer, ever closer the hag came, with each leftwise turn, towards the hooded figure. Finally, as her voice reached the zenith of its power, she stopped before him. Her scarred visage was contorted in something that could not quite be identified...fear...rage....pain? She screeched into the hooded man's hidden face.
"SPEAK! Speak, Fool, and tell me what secret you most desire...once the price has been paid, it shall be yours."
This was the moment the hooded man longed for, in truth, he felt that this was the moment he had been created for... With an unseen grin, his reply came laced with not-so-subtle triumph. "The loxós. I want the loxós, witch!"
The look on the hag's face was a picture of twisted horror. "No! NO! NOOOOOOO!"
But it was too late. The bargain had been struck. The deal was done.
The hooded figure nodded curtly. The motion was not one of respect, it was one born out of fear. Anyone with eyes to see could tell it.
The crone planted her staff beside her left foot and began walking in a large circle. She moved slowly and deliberately, always turning to the left, counter-clockwise to the hooded man before her. She drug her staff through the powdery dirt of the cave and the path it traced in the dirt mirrored the sign she bore in the place of her eyes. As she paced, she murmured under her foul breath and though he strained desperately to hear the words, the hooded man could make out only bits and parts...
"helico...spiracial...ammon...nautilious....vogel...fermatti...jannos...pspir..."
With each revolution, her words became more saturated with vile hatred and malice. Her voice, though murmured, began to thrum with dripping, black power. Closer, ever closer the hag came, with each leftwise turn, towards the hooded figure. Finally, as her voice reached the zenith of its power, she stopped before him. Her scarred visage was contorted in something that could not quite be identified...fear...rage....pain? She screeched into the hooded man's hidden face.
"SPEAK! Speak, Fool, and tell me what secret you most desire...once the price has been paid, it shall be yours."
This was the moment the hooded man longed for, in truth, he felt that this was the moment he had been created for... With an unseen grin, his reply came laced with not-so-subtle triumph. "The loxós. I want the loxós, witch!"
The look on the hag's face was a picture of twisted horror. "No! NO! NOOOOOOO!"
But it was too late. The bargain had been struck. The deal was done.
#MMWW, #Makes, #Me, #Wanna, #Write, #BrannonHollingsworth, #Tenet, #tenetstales, #Loxos, #Wrembhwicce, #fabricofreality, #THISISABIGDEAL
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