A brat.
A little boy.
One boy decimated an elite squad of Jäger hunters. Even with a hostage at hand, this little boy absolutely demolished a whole company of well-trained soldiers. The commander at Fairwell will never live this down.
"Unforgivable."
With obvious effort, a dark form pulled itself out of the swirling white. A charred limb scrabbled around and found...dirt! This was it! He was back in the cavern.
The tattered form pulled himself out, but the void pulled back. It wasn't used to being defied. It wasn't used to anything.
Eventually, the form could be recognized as a man, right from his forties. His skin, once a brilliant shade of acorn, was now charred black, straight from an oven. Two eyes burned with hatred and determination as he pulled his legs out of the swirling eternity behind him.
"Unforgivable."
A torn pair of lips muttered incoherently as the man struggled to train control over what had once been part of everything.
"Unforgivable."
Over and over the mantra was repeated.
"Unforgivable!"
Until the man stood up, limping and wearing nothing, but the hatred in his yes burnt. Thomas Kane was not used to losing. Especially not today.
Actual flames leapt from his eyes as stood up straighter. His back arched, and more flames spouted from the many cuts and lesions on his body. Slowly his flesh began to meld back together, mending his torn flesh and battered skeleton. But his ego was still in shreds, untouchable by any kind of healing.
"Magrathea..."
Two globes of fire ignited in his eye sockets as flames leapt all over his naked body, sheathing him in a cloak of fire. Untouchable. Unbearable to humans.
He was here to finish his mission. And he would finish it.
"Bless me, Allfather. I am coming."
YOU ARE READING
Before The Fall (origins)
FantasyTwo boys. One in size and one at heart. One hell of a childhood. Note: If you want, skip to the chapter labelled Fishing. That's a good a place to start as any. But if you don't mind boringly vague exposition, go ahead and start from the beginni...
