Bill smiled and handed Mabel the piece of burgandy paper he had oh-so-carefully traced his hand onto. He smiled because during this short time of tracing, he had discovered he was left handed. That was odd. He knew it. He loved it.
Not in a weird way, though.
Ford, on the other hand, frowned. Dispite his left-handedness, Bill seemed to him all too normal. As though he was faking it. So, as Mabel and Bill were coloring their hand turkey fingers various colors (or yellow, in Bill's case), he slammed his fist down on the table and said:
"I won't have it!"
The turkey-makers jumped.
"Won't have what?" Questioned Mabel.
"Me." Bill answered simply. "He doesn't like me. I don't have a clue why not. I'm a wonderful person!"
Mabel winced.
"Well, I wouldn't say wonderful. You're more-,"
"He's completely evil, that's what he is!" Ford cut in. "And dark and omine-ominu-,"
There was a snort from Bill.
"Really? This is the first time you've tried to say ominous in thirty years?"
"What did you do?"
"It's not serious. You just can't say ominous."
"So not serious at all. Right." Ford snaped sarcasticly.
"Hold on. Say 'burden'."
The reponse was "Sea otter."
I do believe that is the first time a dream deamon has ever fallen out of a chair laughing.
-LINE! GO MAKE SURE THE CIPHER BOY SUFFERS NO PERMANENT DAMAGE FROM INTENSE GIGGLING WHILST I NARRATE THE NEXT PART OF THIS CHAPTER.
He's clever, he can find a way out of there himself.
"Really? Clever isn't the word I would use."
But he is clever. Astoundingly so. It's why I chose him. He just doesn't use it.
"He doesn't trust you. He belives you wish his downfall."
He belives many things. He knows even more. I only wish the downfall of the darkness inside of him.
"This could be the fate of our entire world. Do you really want to put that on the ahoulders of a boy who never really grew past fifteen?"
Even if he had not grown past fifteen, witch he has, I would still trust his judgement.
"Fine then. How are we to get the message to him that he has such a choice?"
We aren't. Goodnight and Goodbye, my squire.
Malkinai turned and walked away, hoping despritely the Axolotl wasn't really going to have Bill make a choice that had anything to do with possible endangerment of the lives of others. He'd seen Olyxian make one of those. It hadn't ended well.
-OH MY GOSH! LINE! WE'RE IN THE CENTER OF THE PAGE!
WHAT HAPPENED?
Olyxian Diverend slept soundly most nights.
This was not most nights.
Olyxian, or, as his friends called him, Oly, rolled in bed restlessly, locked in the clutches of a nightmare that had him trying to claw his way up a mudslide. At the top, his classmates shouted at him, telling him that if he would just 'try a little harder' he could make it to the top. Although he yelled back at them he was 'trying his hardest, so if you Aramarnin would shut up and let him concentrate' he could totally make it, but nobody listened.
Oly rolled off his bed and woke with a start as he hit the cold, hard floor.
"Whoever invented nightmares is the worst."
What time was it? It was still dark out, but it was so early in the year that didn't really mean anything.
Someone opened his door and turned on the light, revealing the clock on the wall. Hearn... still fairly early then.
"I heard a thump. You okay?" Asked his older sister Crisanthia, who was the someone who opened the door.
"Yeah." Oly replied tiredly. "Just fell out of bed. Now I'm getting back in and going to sleep."
"Oh no you aren't. How much have you studied for your history test today?"
"None."
"I'm going to have to fix that, arent I? Follow me, little bro."
They stayed up for what felt like forever. Crisanthia was hash and calculating.
Olyxian aced that test.
Well, there's the end of that chapter. If any of you can guess who Olyxian is, you get a prize. There are so many hints in this chapter I nearly felt bad about giving you them all. I also gave you misleading information reagarding my little Oly as well though, so it's an almost.
I'm not sure what your prize is yet.
It's probably a fluff chapter.