Rating: PG-13?
Pairing: No idea yet.
Disclaimer: SO not mine. Except for Eon. She's mine!
A/N: This is a first blog post to a roleplaying community my friends strong armed me into. I'm not sure I will continue writing in that venue but I can promise I will try to finish this fic regardless. I can ALSO promise the readers that you will never have to read anything in RP or script format as I will be rewriting the scenes as they are put to that great ether that is Myspace.
The End of the Beginning
In an ice cave far to the north, a realm even the gods of Olympus dare not trod, a shuddering hulk of a monster could be seen. A massive creature with a now hideous, misshapen face shuddered and licked not-so-massive wounds as he cried from his nearly blinded eyes.
"Damn you, Kratos," Typhon rumbled, deep in his burning chest. "I will kill you one day man-god."
The giant shuddered as another spasm of searing pain flashed through him, a reminder of his encasement in that steaming, hellish prison. He laid back against the cave wall, his many snakes swiveling to and fro, each one hissing madly as he tried desperately to cool himself. He still felt it; the embers of his incarceration still flowed deep in his gargantuan frame.
Then, as if answering a deep-felt prayer, the sheltering frozen cave became more frigid than one would think possible. His breath was ejaculated in sharp puffs of mist as he sighed in near pleasure. For once, since his incarceration, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief. His pain was gone.
I am free.
"Oh, dear brother," a voice whispered, hard and unyielding mere inches from his still mostly-human face. "I hope for your sake that is true"
Typhon would have raised himself in alarm, cried out and prepared himself for a battle he could not possibly win, were it not for the fact that he could no longer move, nor did he want to. With his last vestiges of consciousness before the icy sleep could overtake him, he tried to collect himself enough to see through the healing grey haze of his left eye. However, the small, diminutive, swirling mist of a figure before him raised no alarm. On the contrary, her eyes, a glowing shine in the darkness, were welcoming. This was the last thing he saw before embracing the numbing cold.
"Sleep, brother," the calming voice whispered again. "For when you wake, the world will be a much more fearsome place."
Eon watched her mother's son finally rest within her cocoon of ice. His awakening had started far too early. Someone had not followed by the design of the universe. She, the First of Winter, was most intrigued. She must meet this man-god. This… Kratos.