DorianVal@aol.com
1st July 2006, 09:16 AM
Trying this one more time.
Deathless
By
Jeremy Harper
Note – The Astonishing X-Men are the property of Marvel Comics, and are used
without
permission.
For OldPrydeFan, though she knows me not.
Prologue One – The Sorcerer Contemplates His Creation
In his hall deep beneath Mother Damp Earth the sorcerer leaned back in his
malachite throne and with cold, agate eyes considered the force arrayed in
darkling glory
before him. His gaze quickly passed over the bandit-troubadour clad in
crimson and gold,
the great apotheosis of all bears, and the scintillating Chaos Demon before
settling on the
last of his assembled champions. The sorcerer's thin, black lips peeled
back, revealing
rotting fangs barred in the mockery of a smile. Fierce, greedy pride welled
in his hollow
breast as he looked at his son, armed and armored for his first foray into
the mortal world.
His son, brought to him by fortuitous circumstance, re-forged by his
ancient, matchless
craft, his penultimate achievement, who would deliver to him his ultimate
triumph.
His son stood tall – far taller than an ordinary man, his shoulders
broad and his
limbs heroic in proportion. A deep-blue great coat wrapped about his body,
embroidered
with rearing golden dragons, trimmed with sable. Golden serpents on black
cloth coiled
up his legs. He wore knee-high, hard leather boots, and leather gauntlets
encased his large
hands. A hood and steel skullcap covered his head and a golden mask, wrought
like the
face of a beautiful youth, lips curved upwards with a mocking devil's smile,
concealed
his face. A broad belt, etched with gold and buckled with silver, wound
around his hips.
A broadsword hung at his left hip, a great knife rested on his right thigh.
He stared back
at his father with shining, pupil-less, golden eyes, fierce fires burning in
their fathomless
depths. The sorcerer smiled and nodded at his son. With his son's awesome
might,
dominion would be theirs.
Behind the sorcerer's champions, the zahlozhniy – the unhallowed dead –
stood in
neat, precise rows. Clad in filthy tatters, sabers, muskets and axes gripped
in their bony
fingers, ready to fight, to reave, to slay, they were his army and their
numbers were
inexhaustible.
The sorcerer rose, lifted his arms in benediction, and spoke, his thin,
hissing voice
echoing through the silence of the hall. "I have waited five hundred years,
and now our
time has come. The spheres are aligned, the stars are right, the key calls
to me. It is time
to begin. I will swallow my doom and set myself beyond all woe." He gestured
at his son.
"My beautiful creation, my darling childe, you are my eyes and my fist. In
the New
World, in the city of New York, the first segment of the key awaits,
concealed from my
sight. Go there, find it, retrieve it. Sweep aside all who oppose you."
His son placed a clenched fist over his heart and bowed his head. His voice
was a
whisper of thunder. "As you will it, so it shall be done."
The sorcerer settled back down on his malachite throne and prepared to
wrench
open the gate, his death's head grin gleaming in the faint light.
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Deathless
By
Jeremy Harper
Note – The Astonishing X-Men are the property of Marvel Comics, and are used
without
permission.
For OldPrydeFan, though she knows me not.
Prologue One – The Sorcerer Contemplates His Creation
In his hall deep beneath Mother Damp Earth the sorcerer leaned back in his
malachite throne and with cold, agate eyes considered the force arrayed in
darkling glory
before him. His gaze quickly passed over the bandit-troubadour clad in
crimson and gold,
the great apotheosis of all bears, and the scintillating Chaos Demon before
settling on the
last of his assembled champions. The sorcerer's thin, black lips peeled
back, revealing
rotting fangs barred in the mockery of a smile. Fierce, greedy pride welled
in his hollow
breast as he looked at his son, armed and armored for his first foray into
the mortal world.
His son, brought to him by fortuitous circumstance, re-forged by his
ancient, matchless
craft, his penultimate achievement, who would deliver to him his ultimate
triumph.
His son stood tall – far taller than an ordinary man, his shoulders
broad and his
limbs heroic in proportion. A deep-blue great coat wrapped about his body,
embroidered
with rearing golden dragons, trimmed with sable. Golden serpents on black
cloth coiled
up his legs. He wore knee-high, hard leather boots, and leather gauntlets
encased his large
hands. A hood and steel skullcap covered his head and a golden mask, wrought
like the
face of a beautiful youth, lips curved upwards with a mocking devil's smile,
concealed
his face. A broad belt, etched with gold and buckled with silver, wound
around his hips.
A broadsword hung at his left hip, a great knife rested on his right thigh.
He stared back
at his father with shining, pupil-less, golden eyes, fierce fires burning in
their fathomless
depths. The sorcerer smiled and nodded at his son. With his son's awesome
might,
dominion would be theirs.
Behind the sorcerer's champions, the zahlozhniy – the unhallowed dead –
stood in
neat, precise rows. Clad in filthy tatters, sabers, muskets and axes gripped
in their bony
fingers, ready to fight, to reave, to slay, they were his army and their
numbers were
inexhaustible.
The sorcerer rose, lifted his arms in benediction, and spoke, his thin,
hissing voice
echoing through the silence of the hall. "I have waited five hundred years,
and now our
time has come. The spheres are aligned, the stars are right, the key calls
to me. It is time
to begin. I will swallow my doom and set myself beyond all woe." He gestured
at his son.
"My beautiful creation, my darling childe, you are my eyes and my fist. In
the New
World, in the city of New York, the first segment of the key awaits,
concealed from my
sight. Go there, find it, retrieve it. Sweep aside all who oppose you."
His son placed a clenched fist over his heart and bowed his head. His voice
was a
whisper of thunder. "As you will it, so it shall be done."
The sorcerer settled back down on his malachite throne and prepared to
wrench
open the gate, his death's head grin gleaming in the faint light.
.---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
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| Unsubscribing - ffml-request (AT) anifics (DOT) com |
| Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject |
`---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'