T.D.: Mwahahah! I live again!! Okay, so maybe only in part, but still, it's better than I was.
Pegasus: Lord help us all . . .
T.D.: It hasn't been that long, has it? Looks at calendar Why didn't anyone wake me up? You know, maybe somewhere around five or six months ago?
Pegasus: Sorry, we couldn't get a hold of anyone sooner, rather hard to find someone to revive someone dead.
T.D.: Okay, so I've been gone, I'm here now, and looks in mirror Jeez, I need to shave off this beard!
J.G.: It is really not you, it needs to go.
Cheetoh: Yeah, and it would help if you called us every once in a while.
T.D.: Me and what consciousness?
J.G.: It's always excuses with you, isn't it?
Pegasus: The good news is though is that he can write in his sleep.
T.D.: Yeah, weird, but it gets the job done.
Pegasus: Well, considering that you tripled the amount on this story while you were out has got to be worth something.
Cheetoh: And if we wait any longer, we may never get to see all the new stuff.
T.D.: Right. Well, here's the next chapter. It may be odd, but it works.
The thunder of hooves drowned out all worries of anyone following the little trio, along with any other noises, including any attempts at talking. As the rode on, Jerim waved to the others and began to slow his horse. The others followed and they came to a stop near an open field of dirt clear of large rocks.
"Lunch already?"
"Yes Vena, lunch."
Behind them, 'Timmy' landed and approached the group.
"It's time for your lunch already?"
"Yup. Want anything Timmy?"
"Um, about that name. It doesn't really work for me."
"What do you want instead?"
"Maybe Miah?"
"It's an . . . Interesting name, but sure."
"So why am I being called Miah now?"
"Melic, your name is still Melic. Miah is Timmy's new name."
"It is? Oh yeah . . ."
"So where's lunch?"
"Lunch already?"
"Yes, that's what Jerim said. Where did he go anyway?"
"Right here."
"Sorry, can't keep track of too many people."
"Shall we go inside now?"
"Inside? Inside where?"
"Melic, if you will."
The rocks vanished and were replaced with a coliseum filled with multitudes of cheering fans. The dark walls gleamed in the darkness as if lit be hidden lights.
"We have to eat down here? No way. Sorry, food and gore don't mix."
"Chill Vena. We still have a ways to go. We just had to come in here because this place if protected and it was the only way in."
"Well, I guess that works, just as long as I get lunch."
They walked toward a dark hallway at the edge of the seating and continued into the cool, damp air of the corridor. The hallway lead them down a musky path that lead them past many doors. Most of the doors had nameplates, but most seemed unused. Jerim stopped at one such door and rapped lightly on the door. From behind the door came an aura of chilling cold that combined with the hallways stiff air to raise goose bumps on Vena's skin. Jerim opened the door slowed and stepped cautiously in. As the passed under the doorway, Vena spotted the nameplate.
"Stalray?" Vena asked after recovering from the cold.
Jerim replied from in the shadows of the room, "He is a powerful pit mage in the arena who specializes in black magics."
"So he's a necromancer?"
"Never!" Vena sidestepped a thrown bottle that had appeared suddenly from the dark depths of the room. "Why must people assume users of black magic must be necromancers?"
A dark figure, clad in a billowing black cloak emerged from the shadowy depths of the room. His arms hung limply at his sides, hidden entirely save fore his fingertips. A cloud of black mist issued continually from the cloak and in the spaces between gases, several black pendants could be seen hanging around his neck.
"What halfwit is it that brings this insolence here to disturb my quiet?"
"Aww, don't be too hard on her, she doesn't really know much about magic."
"That would explain the lack of an aura. But the question still stands of why you waste my time when it is so valuable in these confines."
"It is valuable and the reason I come to you is for the stone."
"You're early, I wasn't expecting you for a while yet. Did you find that village alright?"
"What village?"
"The Kelden one."
"No, not entirely at least."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Do you remember me telling you about the phyrixians?"
"No."
"Sure you do."
"Nope."
"I told at least a million times."
"Still don't remember."
"The horrid black beasts from another world?"
"I thought you were talking about the phyrixians?"
"Never mind . . ."
"Well, the stone's not ready yet."
"Well, we haven't got much else to do around here. You in any matches any time soon?"
"Nope. I've still got to wait another three weeks. I told the council that his arm might grow back eventually."
"And that's why you don't use decay spells on living things."
"Well, someday I'll find a place where matches will be to the death."
"Like that'll happen. That's not what people really go for these days."
"I can try at least. Maybe if I go somewhere else, I'll find someplace that will let anyone fight any way they want."
"Just watch out who you fight."
"Like it really matters."
"Well, it would be quite an unbalanced fight going against a 'walker."
"What are the chances of that happening? I thought they didn't like slaughtering people?"
"Um . . ." This struck Jerim as rather odd considering the only one he himself knew, Urza, wasn't too abject to killing. "Do you actually know any planeswalkers?"
"Yeah, he said his name was Keyas."
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"About five years ago. Right before the mysterious slaughter of several villages."
"Hey, I know that name!" Vena had until that point been wandering the room. "He was caught three years ago and then he disappeared." Vena continued to look at a bladed helm that lay on a shelf.
"I wouldn't wear that if I were you."
"First, you are not me. Second, why not?"
"It's a dementia cap I use on enemies to drive them mad by filling their sight with visions of horrors."
Footsteps could be heard running down the cold, slick rock hallway outside. A figure in a dark cloak appeared at the doorway, flanked by several other darkly cloaked figures.
"Hey Stalray, some guys are here to see you."
"Oh really? And who would that be?"
"Didn't say really, just kinda made screeching noises, and then they laughed, which was the weirdest sound. I think they're foreigners."
Jerim became rigid at the description of the visitors, "Did they happen to have metal infused with body? And dark pitless eyes?"
"Why yes sir, where you expecting them? Shall I let them in?"
"No! Do not let them down here! Kill them now before they try to get into the arena!"
"But sir, they left a note too." The cloaked figure handed Stalray a crisp white paper written in flowery writing, sweetly scented, and dangling a severed finger on a string at the bottom.
Melic stepped forward and snatched the paper from Stalray's hand. "It looks like a contract of some sort that they wanted signed in blood, which would explain the finger and the note at the bottom 'Please sign in blood, and for your convenience, use mine.'"
"What's with the blood if it's not yours?"
"Maybe it's just a good color? Oh well, let's see what they want." Stalray snatched back the paper and looked in confusion at the bottom portion.
1 C sugar
2 diced onions
1 stock chicken
3 two-day old corpses
14 lbs salt
1 tsp vanilla
"Well, if you ask me, these guys do not know how to cook."
"Vena, how do you even know it's a list of ingredients?"
"You mean besides the fact it calls it a recipe?"
"Umm, yeah, that's just a little creepy."
As the group read and reread the note, Stalray picked up the finger and turned the clawed extremity in his hand. As he turned it over, he noticed a blemished onyx ring was still attached to the finger. The jewel glowed softly with a hidden dark fire as the world around Stalray fell away, replaced by a swirling darkness. A voice came to him, carried across the emptiness:
"Do not trust the fire wielder
For it shall rain on your head
And the one of far-off light
Will become a flow of red
Beware the false dark
For truth lies in his head
So fend for yourself
And speak with Ned"
"Ned?" Stalray asked himself as the world returned to normal.
"You say something Stalray?"
"What? No, just pondering aloud."
"Well, we'll be leaving so you can return to your work."
"Right, I'll get it done," and they'll really be in for a surprise.
T.D.: Well, finally, chapter seven is done, after fighting to get it done, even through the power going out six times . . .
Pegasus: You should know by now not to roast buzzards on the cities main grid.
T.D.: But it's just not the same out of the oven.
J.G.: Just make sure there's more after this.
T.D.: There is. And if you hadn't noticed, I did name the dragon. Plus, I tired my hand at some pretty poor rhyming there at the end.
Pegasus: I still want my blank soul card back.
T.D.: And I told you it has Urbi in it right now.
Pegasus: Not anymore! Grabs card and runs
T.D.: Well, I have no idea how much longer the story is going to be, but it won't be done anytime this year, I can tell you that. And now, meet the latest member of the confines of my mind, Hatsuharu!
Haru: Umm, hi.
T.D.: For anyone who hasn't seen Fruits Basket, Haru is the best character on there. He's the cow from the zodiac, and he has a wicked split personality.
Haru: Just don't let me near Yuki; I might start hitting on him again.
T.D.: But that's another story. Good night folks!