The Abomination and the Story Teller

Light and Dark

Most people fear the dark. They rush to their beds as fast as they can, their heart in their throats. Not being able to see anything terrifies them, and they imagine horrible beings under their bed or in their closets, coming to take them away. However, the real danger is the light. Where you can actually see the horrible creatures coming at you. You see with perfect clarity the horrifying elves, fairies, goblins, trolls, dwarves and even worse, humans. All of which will not hesitate to kill you on sight. You never had a chance. Where as if they can't see you, they cannot kill you. If you see them; they give you nightmares.

The dark and silence are your friends. They have been and always will be your allies in this war for life. If you have both, you will be able to win any battle. In the Light, you are never safe.

You may disbelieve me and completely ignore my warning and go to the Light's side. That is okay, it is your choice. Just know that you will never have peace. All the Light creatures can do is fight each other. No peace.

I am Abomination. Or so they call me. The only creatures even smart enough to give me a name gave me one you would normally associate with wickedness. Yet it is not me that is wicked, it is them. In any case, I am a creature you need fear. Not because of my looks, albeit that is part of the equation, but because of my skills. My fighting skills have no parallel—but for one—and my magic, as far as I know cannot be beat. But, as we all know, that will not last for long. There will always be a someone or something that will challenge the unbeatable.

I guess I should probably explain what I am just a bit more. I've told you what I can do, now I will tell you what I am. The humans and elves call me a monster. I tell you, I'm much more than that.

I am a nightmare, the thing that keeps you awake at night, a friend of the dark. Since it gets so much condescension from the other creatures, I figured I'd give it a chance and it's a good thing I did. I have dragon-like wings on my back and retractable claws on the tips of my fingers. Everything I wear is black, maybe sometimes with a hint of dark red. It helps to blend in with my surroundings. I've been told I have red eyes and white hair. I had gotten my nose broken a few months ago so now it is crooked.

That story was very recent and very interesting...

Zelpha

What is strange is that every one I've ever known practically worships the light. I mean what did the darkness ever do to us? Sure, I've heard rumors of dark creatures lurking in the night and we have curfew after dark, but no one can tell me a story of the darkness. No one can tell me what exactly it did to deserve our disdain. I've asked every elder in all the villages I've been to and even asked the oldest person in the world, the Duke of the elves called, Stardreamer. Not even he could tell me why we fear the dark. I could tell that he either genuinely didn't know or had forgotten. Nothing in his countenance indicated that he even had a clue of what I was asking.

I spend most of my time traveling; telling stories. That's how I get a living. I go around the land, telling stories in any village that will accept. I've had some who won't let me tell stories, so I go to the head man's house first. Most allow it though so I do not need to worry about it most of the time.

Every where I go, I try to collect as many stories as I can. I normally give time for my audiences to tell any stories they know. Most of the time I already know them, but once in a while I come across a story I have not heard of.

Once in a while I am the story. I laugh at those, as they are most often told by the children of the village and they have such imagination that I wonder where it goes as they grow up. Hardly anyone creates anymore. It is saddening.

I was standing out on the Green, soaking in the rare sun. It was winter time, almost spring, but it was still rare that the sun shone at all. I hoped that my dirty blonde hair would soak it in and get lighter. I've always wished for golden blonde hair. Instead, all I have is dirty blonde and dark brown eyes. The only positive look I have is my fair skin; no freckles and I cannot tan.

As I stood there, soaking in the sun, I heard the snow crunch behind me, from the direction of the small grove of trees behind the inn I was staying at. I spun swiftly around, my hand immediately reaching for the dagger at my hip.

"Camel dung!" I muttered. I realized that I had left it in my room.

The person that was behind me stopped suddenly. " Who is there?" A deep voice called out as if he had not realized I was here.

I squinted, trying to see past the dark branches that hid the tall man. " They call me the Storyteller," I told the man, hedging around the question; names are dangerous. Especially for someone like me who moves around a lot. I took a step closer, not wanting to seem spooked. Albeit it might be a little late for that.

In return, the man stepped back warily and mumbled something incoherent.

"What?" I asked.

The man stood a little straighter and said, very clearly, " I said that was a very creative name."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, what is yours?" I challenged.

The man hesitated then answered, " Names are dangerous."

"I told you mine," I retorted.

"But I don't want to tell you mine," the man replied.

My temper flared. Call me crazy but when people aren't polite, I have the urge to be violent. However, I felt that that wouldn't be a great idea so instead I huffed and stood there, not knowing what to say.

If I hadn't been looking closely, I wouldn't have noticed the smile that grew on the stranger's face. "You are crazy," he said as if he had read my mind.

That's when my temper went out of control. For some reason, something about this guy made me angry. "Who are you?" I asked before attacking, giving him one more chance to redeem himself.

He hesitated, seeming to wisely think better of his answer. Then he said, " I'm Abomination."

That's okay, I don't need my sword or dagger to fight.

I flew at him, fists raised.

"How dare you!" I growled. " You refuse to answer my question then you mock me!"

"But I—" he started before barely being in time to block my punches and kicks with almost practiced ease. I managed to hit him once in the face before I could no longer touch him.

"No!" I growled again. "You've had your chance!" I continued to pummel him with all the strength I had.

Finally, the guy seemed to get it. I wasn't backing off any time soon. He started taking the offensive. We started slowly backing into the grove of trees until we were out of sight of the inn.

Abomination

The Storyteller fought well; she was clearly an expert. She had skill and knew the most painful parts of the body to hit. Not that I was hurt at all, I'm too skilled to allow anyone to even come close. No, that is not my ego talking.

She was an excellent fighter.

However, I know a lot more than just fighting.

I suddenly trust my palms out, facing my opponent. She flew back onto her back and laid there for a second or two before scrambling back up. Eager to continue the fight.

"Enough!" I boomed in my deep voice. I spread my enormous wings, blocking out part of the sun that fell on the girl, wanting to make it clear I did not want to fight any more.

The Storyteller sat back on her heels, staring at me. From fear or awe I had yet to find out.

Zelpha

"Who are you?" I asked, wanting answers. Then I reconsidered my word choice as I glanced at his dragon-wing-like-wings . "What are you?"

The man—creature—scowled. "I told you, I am Abomination," he repeated. "That is what you humans and the elves like to call call creatures like me. Surely you know this with a name such as yours?"

I shook my head in confusion. "I have never heard any story of such beings as you," I tell him. "Such stories of the Dark, as I assume you are from, has been long since forgotten."

The Abomination scowled even more—if that was even possible—and said, "Strange. For the stories of the Light in the Darkness has never faded nor changed." He continued, "I will never forget the wrong the Light has wrought me. It claims it is pure and righteous while it judges on looks alone. Never has it looked beyond the skin."