I do not yet posess the Golden Sun.

Ultimatum

It looms above. One massive pupil boring into my very soul. I feel myself shudder. The dense air ripples about me. My golden hair drifts heavy in the water as my dying body floats atop light crests. The bulbous entity hovers. Its grand eye blinks the blues of it shimmering dully.

I hear a muffled sound of water bubbling. It splashes onto me crimson and cold. Saturos sputters, coughs, and ferociously shakes his head attempting to clear tremendous dizziness. His hazed gaze gravitates to the orb. He gasps and wisps of Mars radiates from his weakening form.

I can not see what shape I'm in, of not being of the ability to move. Transfiguring shape had rent my body asunder. My neck is unnaturally curved at a sharp angle. I feel the dislocated shoulder blades. My elbows are strained, strong knuckles shattered, sure fingers gnarled. Knees twisted aback. My left foot is entirely numb, I wish everything else was too.

I rotate my eyes, the only reliable part remaining of my flesh. Saturos is in a more easy position. No bones in hazardous fixations. His wounds, though, are mortally internal. A once captivating crimson eye is bruised shut and rimmed blue-black. There are numerous cuts to his pale face that leak red unending. He's missing a tooth and his lip is busted. A gash in his left arm continually pumps blackness that mixes jovially in the frigid waters. His right arm, ever bruised purple, curved around his middle, white knuckles grip his left side. His entire body twitches sporadically and my ears pick up the clattering of his teeth tapping against themselves.

He isn't looking at me. His good eye is focused solely upward. I watch as he slowly regains vision and stutters an inaudible cry of some sort to the psynergetic being up high. I follow his sight.

The glow of its eye ceases. The air calms to stillness, and the water looses its rhythms. The wise one releases its foreboding gaze from me and looks at us both, all-seeing. A whisper of base thunders between my ears.

"Before it thus you seek. Ask only if fate can be grasped. You would hold moral upon it?"

The Wise One blinks. My mind begins to shatter. Saturos becomes limp. Before I pass out the monster speaks again then fades away.

"Here it is for you to decide how it should always BE."

Dailey updates short chapters. As in 400 words min. But I dislike this shortness. So when I have time (weekends)…two thousand will become the min. Ever changing. Thank you for the reviews)

So pleased am I to receive reviews for whatever this thing is I am writing. It spurs me to jumpstart my dormant imagination.