I sighed. Meta Knight was right, and besides: I didn't feel like
hurting any more people, for a while, at least. Still, I felt a darker sort
of need to learn the sword beam . . . the power I could unleash . . . I
shook my self and left the fireside. Meta Knight continued eating, quiet
and mysterious once again.
I meandered over to Masadona's fire, to see how she was doing. She still seemed very tired. "Are you OK?" I asked quietly. She looked at me, and a small, halfhearted smile came to her face. Her eyes remained dull.
"I'm fine, now that I can see you." She whispered. I sat down by her, and she put her arm around me. She had gotten so thin . . . "Masadona, really, are you OK? You don't look so good . . ."
Masadona sighed again, the smile dropping off her tired features. "I just haven't been sleeping well . . ." She said, "And-" she stopped, and bit her lip.
"What?" I asked anxiously. She gazed at me with her bronze tinted eyes. "Mandela." She murmured. I felt a black anger rise in my chest.
"What has he done?" I ground out. Masadona looked away, and told me.
"I didn't tell Garther or Cinsta about this, but about a month ago . . . I ran into him. He didn't see me, but I saw him. He was carrying a bunch of broken looking weapons, and he was very badly hurt. His eyes had gone wild, and all I could hear him saying was 'I'll kill all of them . . . All of them . . . Magnum . . . Marthen . . . all of them. And then I'll have her . . .'" Masadona sighed once more. "I'm sure he was talking about me. But that's not all." She stopped and continued.
"As I waited for him to leave so I could continue foraging, I felt some one-" she stopped, seemingly embarrassed. I urged her not to stop. She blushed and whispered: "I felt some one . . . 'touching' me. I'm sure it was a man. He was right up behind me, and he put both arms around my waist. I turned around, but there was no one there. The feeling stayed though, the feeling of his touch: and ever since, I've been having nightmares about this experience. Every time I dream, I see a tiny bit more of his face, and learn about him. I can't stop him either . . . he's been talking to me out of the shadows, when I'm alone. I can't understand what he's saying, but I can hear him and I know he's there. As for Mandela, well, when he disappeared into the bushes, some one ambushed him. I heard some one hit him, and I heard him fall. I didn't know what to do, and they dragged him off."
Now I understood. Masadona looked so dog-tired because of the guilt and fright she'd been feeling lately. Little sleep for too long can do a person in. "It's OK," I told her. "They're just dreams. I'll protect you." Masadona smiled at me. "I know it's OK," She said. "And I know you will protect me."
It was already midnight. I looked up, into the sky, and saw it was the new moon. What month was it? June? I had another month to go before my birthday, exact time being when the July new moon reached it's zenith, or peak. Sadly, I felt no anticipation for my birthday.
What I felt was disgust. I had spent most of the night with Meta Knight and my friends, cleaning up the casualties of my berserker fury. I will never forget the feeling of a warm, limp corpse against me: the smell of rotting flesh: or the way dead eyes never stop staring.
Every one else had already fallen asleep. Even Meta Knight. But me, I just couldn't. I could kill hundreds . . . he had said. That is of course, if I used the sword beam the wrong way. I began to wonder if I should try to do it any way . . .
"No," I told myself. "No. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!" I closed my eyes. In the back of my mind, a needling, whining voice spoke against me.
I had gotten so much better over the year. If I was careful, couldn't I do it with out hurting any one? I mean, it would be a greatly useful attack in a fight, and I wouldn't have to use the fury. My eyes snapped open. Should I?
I crept over to Meta Knight's side, and nervously picked up his sword. He didn't stir. I turned and began to walk away, but stopped dead in my tracks. A small squeak escaped my throat, as Meta Knight turned over and sighed in his sleep. Sleep. I let out my own, quiet, relieved sigh, and continued to sneak away.
As soon as I was out of range (that of both sight and earshot) I raised the sword to my face and realized I had no idea where to begin. " . . . I suspected you may already know this attack." He tapped his head, and mouthed the word "Kirby."
Maybe, if I tried hard to remember, it would come to me . . . I concentrated hard, and dug inside of myself. I felt myself tumbling in a dizzy mental fall, but I righted my self and floated. All about me were the lights again. Now I could see the pictures in every separate light: each one was a separate memory. I ignored these, and looked for Kirby. I found him right away. I floated over, and placed my hand on the crystal in which he was incased. Instantly, I pulled my hand away. My hand!
I raised it to my face, to get a better look. This was NOT my own hand! The palm was rough and callused, and corded with sinew and muscle. My gaze traveled up my arm, and I saw that it was a similar case. My clothing was different also. I was wearing some sort of rough woven traveling cloak. What had happened to my height? I was almost as tall as Brutus! I looked up to see my reflection, and suddenly fell back out of concentration. I looked down, and realized I was still my average sized, not so muscular self again. A kid. Then what had I seen?
I tried again, and went back quickly to Kirby's chamber. The crystal was pulsing now, with a dark, persimmon color light. Energy waves radiated from the crystal, and I found it difficult to get closer to Kirby. I pressed my hands to the hard surface of the crystal, this time too interested in what was going on to care about my body. Unexpectedly, my right arm sank through the surface of the crystal, which had suddenly seemed to become liquid. My right hand was pressed firmly to Kirby's forehead. His eyes opened steadily and slowly: and I stopped breathing. My mind!
(Magnum's body on the out side shook on his feet in what seemed to be a small seizure-like episode. Whether he knew it or not, delving into this part of his mind was hurting him. Meta Knight's sword had dropped from his hand, and now both arms hung limply by his sides. Masadona, wrapped in her own nightmare, sensed something bad was happening: but she didn't understand that it was happening to Magnum.
Magnum's body collapsed underneath him, and now he buckled and writhed, raising small clouds of dust and sand. Much longer in this state, and he might not live . . .
Meta Knight, very much awake and alert, made no move. He knew the pain that Magnum was experiencing, but couldn't interfere. He was risking the life of perhaps the only possible savior, but this was not HIS lesson to learn. Magnum would have to pull himself out . . .)
MY BRAIN! Visions, aromas, sounds, memories, feelings both physical and mental flooded my head: thousands of them. It was like having millions of people trying to force themselves in through one doorway. I forced my eyes open, and saw through a white blur everything from Kirby in his Crystal, both Aunt Tiffany and My father arguing over a TV, a man I didn't recognize in armor, and his comrade, both next to Meta Knight, it was all going on at once. I reeled with pain that seemed to be tearing at my skull. Suddenly, it was serene again.
One, clear memory drifted in my head. I raised a plain, steel sword to my foe,
(One the outside, Magnum was unconsciously picking up the sword again. It began to glow . . .)
. . . and felt my energy flow into the blade. I slowly lifted it high, and brought it slashing down again. I heard a voice in my memory: Meta Knight. "When you bring it down, release your energy!" A blinding flash shot in a crescent beam from my sword and I fell back.
I opened my real eyes, and my mouth gaped at the devastation. All of the trees around me for a good 80 feet to either side had been wiped away, along with many of the trees behind them. From there on, the destruction seemed to angle upwards and into the sky. "Did I do that?" I rasped.
(Magnum scurried quickly over to Meta Knight's side again, a dropped the sword back by his 'sleeping' teacher. He backed from it sharply and lied back down on his original sleeping space. Meta Knight smiled at the back of his frightened student, and chuckled gladly, if not dryly. "Good job, Magnum. Now try it with your eyes open . . ."
In the back of the cave, Masadona began to settle. Morning was coming, and her dream was ending. Tonight, she'd seen her stalker's eyes: bright, blazing gold. She had been frightened by the power he had suddenly emitted in her nightmare, but it seemed almost as though he too was frightened by his abilities. She was starting to wonder just how much of a danger this man was to her . . .)
Well, that's all for now. Review soon!
I meandered over to Masadona's fire, to see how she was doing. She still seemed very tired. "Are you OK?" I asked quietly. She looked at me, and a small, halfhearted smile came to her face. Her eyes remained dull.
"I'm fine, now that I can see you." She whispered. I sat down by her, and she put her arm around me. She had gotten so thin . . . "Masadona, really, are you OK? You don't look so good . . ."
Masadona sighed again, the smile dropping off her tired features. "I just haven't been sleeping well . . ." She said, "And-" she stopped, and bit her lip.
"What?" I asked anxiously. She gazed at me with her bronze tinted eyes. "Mandela." She murmured. I felt a black anger rise in my chest.
"What has he done?" I ground out. Masadona looked away, and told me.
"I didn't tell Garther or Cinsta about this, but about a month ago . . . I ran into him. He didn't see me, but I saw him. He was carrying a bunch of broken looking weapons, and he was very badly hurt. His eyes had gone wild, and all I could hear him saying was 'I'll kill all of them . . . All of them . . . Magnum . . . Marthen . . . all of them. And then I'll have her . . .'" Masadona sighed once more. "I'm sure he was talking about me. But that's not all." She stopped and continued.
"As I waited for him to leave so I could continue foraging, I felt some one-" she stopped, seemingly embarrassed. I urged her not to stop. She blushed and whispered: "I felt some one . . . 'touching' me. I'm sure it was a man. He was right up behind me, and he put both arms around my waist. I turned around, but there was no one there. The feeling stayed though, the feeling of his touch: and ever since, I've been having nightmares about this experience. Every time I dream, I see a tiny bit more of his face, and learn about him. I can't stop him either . . . he's been talking to me out of the shadows, when I'm alone. I can't understand what he's saying, but I can hear him and I know he's there. As for Mandela, well, when he disappeared into the bushes, some one ambushed him. I heard some one hit him, and I heard him fall. I didn't know what to do, and they dragged him off."
Now I understood. Masadona looked so dog-tired because of the guilt and fright she'd been feeling lately. Little sleep for too long can do a person in. "It's OK," I told her. "They're just dreams. I'll protect you." Masadona smiled at me. "I know it's OK," She said. "And I know you will protect me."
It was already midnight. I looked up, into the sky, and saw it was the new moon. What month was it? June? I had another month to go before my birthday, exact time being when the July new moon reached it's zenith, or peak. Sadly, I felt no anticipation for my birthday.
What I felt was disgust. I had spent most of the night with Meta Knight and my friends, cleaning up the casualties of my berserker fury. I will never forget the feeling of a warm, limp corpse against me: the smell of rotting flesh: or the way dead eyes never stop staring.
Every one else had already fallen asleep. Even Meta Knight. But me, I just couldn't. I could kill hundreds . . . he had said. That is of course, if I used the sword beam the wrong way. I began to wonder if I should try to do it any way . . .
"No," I told myself. "No. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!" I closed my eyes. In the back of my mind, a needling, whining voice spoke against me.
I had gotten so much better over the year. If I was careful, couldn't I do it with out hurting any one? I mean, it would be a greatly useful attack in a fight, and I wouldn't have to use the fury. My eyes snapped open. Should I?
I crept over to Meta Knight's side, and nervously picked up his sword. He didn't stir. I turned and began to walk away, but stopped dead in my tracks. A small squeak escaped my throat, as Meta Knight turned over and sighed in his sleep. Sleep. I let out my own, quiet, relieved sigh, and continued to sneak away.
As soon as I was out of range (that of both sight and earshot) I raised the sword to my face and realized I had no idea where to begin. " . . . I suspected you may already know this attack." He tapped his head, and mouthed the word "Kirby."
Maybe, if I tried hard to remember, it would come to me . . . I concentrated hard, and dug inside of myself. I felt myself tumbling in a dizzy mental fall, but I righted my self and floated. All about me were the lights again. Now I could see the pictures in every separate light: each one was a separate memory. I ignored these, and looked for Kirby. I found him right away. I floated over, and placed my hand on the crystal in which he was incased. Instantly, I pulled my hand away. My hand!
I raised it to my face, to get a better look. This was NOT my own hand! The palm was rough and callused, and corded with sinew and muscle. My gaze traveled up my arm, and I saw that it was a similar case. My clothing was different also. I was wearing some sort of rough woven traveling cloak. What had happened to my height? I was almost as tall as Brutus! I looked up to see my reflection, and suddenly fell back out of concentration. I looked down, and realized I was still my average sized, not so muscular self again. A kid. Then what had I seen?
I tried again, and went back quickly to Kirby's chamber. The crystal was pulsing now, with a dark, persimmon color light. Energy waves radiated from the crystal, and I found it difficult to get closer to Kirby. I pressed my hands to the hard surface of the crystal, this time too interested in what was going on to care about my body. Unexpectedly, my right arm sank through the surface of the crystal, which had suddenly seemed to become liquid. My right hand was pressed firmly to Kirby's forehead. His eyes opened steadily and slowly: and I stopped breathing. My mind!
(Magnum's body on the out side shook on his feet in what seemed to be a small seizure-like episode. Whether he knew it or not, delving into this part of his mind was hurting him. Meta Knight's sword had dropped from his hand, and now both arms hung limply by his sides. Masadona, wrapped in her own nightmare, sensed something bad was happening: but she didn't understand that it was happening to Magnum.
Magnum's body collapsed underneath him, and now he buckled and writhed, raising small clouds of dust and sand. Much longer in this state, and he might not live . . .
Meta Knight, very much awake and alert, made no move. He knew the pain that Magnum was experiencing, but couldn't interfere. He was risking the life of perhaps the only possible savior, but this was not HIS lesson to learn. Magnum would have to pull himself out . . .)
MY BRAIN! Visions, aromas, sounds, memories, feelings both physical and mental flooded my head: thousands of them. It was like having millions of people trying to force themselves in through one doorway. I forced my eyes open, and saw through a white blur everything from Kirby in his Crystal, both Aunt Tiffany and My father arguing over a TV, a man I didn't recognize in armor, and his comrade, both next to Meta Knight, it was all going on at once. I reeled with pain that seemed to be tearing at my skull. Suddenly, it was serene again.
One, clear memory drifted in my head. I raised a plain, steel sword to my foe,
(One the outside, Magnum was unconsciously picking up the sword again. It began to glow . . .)
. . . and felt my energy flow into the blade. I slowly lifted it high, and brought it slashing down again. I heard a voice in my memory: Meta Knight. "When you bring it down, release your energy!" A blinding flash shot in a crescent beam from my sword and I fell back.
I opened my real eyes, and my mouth gaped at the devastation. All of the trees around me for a good 80 feet to either side had been wiped away, along with many of the trees behind them. From there on, the destruction seemed to angle upwards and into the sky. "Did I do that?" I rasped.
(Magnum scurried quickly over to Meta Knight's side again, a dropped the sword back by his 'sleeping' teacher. He backed from it sharply and lied back down on his original sleeping space. Meta Knight smiled at the back of his frightened student, and chuckled gladly, if not dryly. "Good job, Magnum. Now try it with your eyes open . . ."
In the back of the cave, Masadona began to settle. Morning was coming, and her dream was ending. Tonight, she'd seen her stalker's eyes: bright, blazing gold. She had been frightened by the power he had suddenly emitted in her nightmare, but it seemed almost as though he too was frightened by his abilities. She was starting to wonder just how much of a danger this man was to her . . .)
Well, that's all for now. Review soon!