He had slayed the last monster and reached the misty pool. It was at last his to dip into. Shedding his armor stained in different bloods, some of it his own and some from the vicious monsters he had met and killed along the way.
He was a long way from home, once a humble peasant he had now turned into a warrior. His fate had turned when he saved a little mouse in his fields.
A talking mouse, unbelievable. And yet he had mercy on him when he begged for his life.
As a token for saving his life the mouse had invited him on a quest. A hunt for the mysterious pool.
It’s waters as blue as topaz and its legends spread across the worlds known and unknown.
He had laughed presuming it was a big joke, a way of humbling him and yet he humoured the mouse by entering the mouse-hole.
It was as if he fit there, and he was right at home too (though an overdose of cheese nearly made him sick). His clothes had transformed and he felt he was in a timeless space where there was everything and yet nothing.
He had a surreal feeling of being lost and having found.
The mouse had introduced him to some weird beings who looked like bandits, pirates all of lowlife in this low underground space.
He tagged along for fun and then the adventures began.
He was not sure whether he was the hero or the villain. Somewhere along the quest all lines, characters had blurred and now all that he cared for was to reach that pool.
Take a dip in the elixir of youth. Become immortal.
And as he was about to shed the last few garments he heard it. Faint at first but distinct.
A low melodious hum a remnant of a beautiful song, but broken.
It came from the mist surrounding the pool.
And as he stepped nearer………………………
……………………………………………………………………… (to be continued)
wordsonwings 