Sunday, August 5, 2007

Mucro ex Glacies quod Mucro ex Incendia
Two men, both of same loins, stand in a chamber. Before them stands their two blades, one glacial, one zealous in heat.

Anger spills from each brother, as blood from their wounds. They stare into either's eyes, only to fly into battle once more. Pernicious rage runs through their veins as swords collide and bodies dance their dance till death. The zealous twin swings his blade high and the brother parries the blow. This death sparring continues, until both brothers, drenched in sweat, resume their locked stare.
The Frozen twin looks down, and is amazed, his sword is but a hilt in his angry gaze! His brothers stays lit, and he melted away...

Then he knew were his icy sword went, as the stone cold pain of death overcomes him, and the chilly reaper gathers his soul.

A story told by Massimmi, a bard in my village. The second of my stories, that you shall pillage.
A tale of zeal and those without, you know the story, with not a single doubt. I always thought it funny when Massimmi picked up a stick and fought the air as if it were a madman!