Fall
It was the death of October when a man came to address a boy.
'Hello,' he said, barely inclining his head that was just visible underneath the most outlandish hat the boy had ever seen.
'Hello?' the young orphan returned cautiously, eyeing the queer outfit the stranger wore. 'Who are you?'
'Wit's End,' the old man replied.
'That's a funny name!' The boy giggled, amused. He was four.
''tis not a proud denomination, I must admit,' the strange man said, a crooked smile on his lips.
'Why is your name so strange?'
'Why? Do you feel like listening to a story?'
'Oh, but I do!' the boy cried out eagerly.
'Do you like everyday stories? Or do you prefer the ... magical kind?'
The boy froze, his eyes widening with longing. 'Magical!' he demanded.
The old man chuckled with grim satisfaction. 'As you wish.' He straightened his extraordinary garment and folded his hands. 'Listen well.
...
'There once was a snake that was quite alone.
'twas proud of its fangs and fashioned a throne.
A throne to sit and rule its ilk.
It ruled with power, with words like silk.
...
It never knew love and felt no regret
that never it shall have friends instead.
Instead, there was just the lingering fear
that sometime he might just meet his peer.
...
And peers there were, though few in number.
One who was wise, yet prone to slumber.
A slumber he thought to bring about,
yet always there was this lingering doubt;
the old one might be the stronger still.
...
And then there was him, a hatchling still,
whose power was raw yet guided by will.
A will to seek the end of him,
though both really knew the chances were slim.
...
They fought, they bled, they killed, they wept.
A struggle of might, a struggle that swept
the blood of hundreds in their wake.
...
The little one, though, who'd lost his love
moaned and prayed to the stars above.
Above all else, he regretted the crime
that had lost him his heart, he longed for a time
– a time where the snake was not.
...
And bitter he grew and left the fight
until the old one died one night.
That night, Snake thought he'd finally won
yet found the little one gone.
...
The youth is now old, the snake is now young;
the hunter the prey, all deeds are unsung.
Unsung are their lives, their woes, and throes,
and now I ask thee - how the ending goes...?'
...
The boy stared at those brilliantly green eyes, his brow wrinkled, a shiver running down his spine.
The man smiled serenely, his gaze riveted on the setting sun, his fingers clutching a stickful of death.
AN: This piece was written as part of a challenge on the Black Luminary Discord server.
AN2: Yes, I'm back. Yes, I'm back for Black Luminary. Sorry for the wait, everyone.