Henry cont.

Yes, God (aka, ‘uncle’) can also ‘create’ in human eyes, which to be honest is absolutely poppycock.  He cannot create anything he can just mould peoples minds are they good or are they bad.  My father and ‘uncle’ have been trying to change my mind for ages, trying to suppress my every move, with Brom and Auron at my side though I have never had an issue really, a couple of close calls but nothing that really sticks out in my memory.  I have never even come close.


            I sat staring into Brom’s face for a while after he had finished his little lecture of truth, I had my right hand in front of me and as usual I was playing with an idea in my head.  I was considering creating it, well this time I wanted to.  I haven’t created anything in a long time; I just haven’t been in the mood.  I dropped my eyes from Brom’s face down to my hand where there was a ribbon of bright blue fire circling round my hand.

            “I do wish you would listen to me child, I really do.” Brom was irritated by my lack of interest in his speech. His words were snappy.

            “I do listen Brom, just not all the time.” He looked at me with vexation, I am so arrogant and I know it.  But really when you put it into perspective I am untouchable.

            “You child will be the death of me.”

            Ah, this is one of the many phrases Brom likes to use, and it doesn’t work, its ironic, do you know why? Because Brom can’t die, he can’t and won’t.  He is immortal, as am I and Auron.

            Sadly he and Auron are stuck with me until the end of my days, that’s just about until the end of time, yeah, so not very long, eh?

            We are stuck waiting in the rain in the middle of some country side, we’re somewhere in Exeter, don’t ask me where I’m not interested but I do know the general area.  We are tracking a little issue which seems to be getting more and more out of control. 

            I live in a world different from the humans; it’s almost a world inside a world.  I live in a place where myth and legends are true, like vampires, witches, dragons, werewolves, shape shifters and of the like are real.  They are real mainly because of me.  Like I said I love to create, the issue with this is, I create things which are not good for the human race what so ever, one reason why I am so fond of it I guess.  Most of my designs are based on the human form though, but they are stronger and much more resilient to the world’s changes.  I have created a secret community that must at all times be kept secret.  Yes, the humans do know of my creations. No, they don’t have the full details and why would I let them have those.  I am a bitter, nasty, evil creator and I want to keep it that way, this makes me feel like an evil inventor the question is where’s my Igor to pull the switch, although Brom and Auron disagree with that statement significantly. 

            The witches at Pendle are wreaking havoc for me they have continued to use humans in their sacrifices and they do not realise that too many from one small village looks really bad.  I can’t afford a big clean up job my father will not be happy. I will not be happy.  So they have been told to look at other sacrifices or they will be moved on by my minions.  That is one good thing about being a creator and all powerful you can have subordinates to do your jobs for you, as long as you keep them in check make sure they know what they are doing all is good. 

            Exeter however, is where I must get my dragon’s blasted egg; she left it somewhere here and can’t seem to be bothered to ever bring it home.  She keeps suggesting that it’s too much hassle.  She will learn one day that she can’t leave her eggs just lying around, THERE ARE TOO MANY HUMANS.

            “Have you found anything?”

            “No I haven’t yet seen or found anything that gives clues that leads me to the whereabouts to this bloody egg.  Can’t we just go home? My legs are weary.”  Auron was mulling over the evidence he had so far with a confused and aggravated expression across his weather worn face. 

He was greying slowly with a clean shaven face but he always stayed the same.  He always wore a big crimson red cloak, and kept a sword hidden under it, with his brown leather boots who were large against his skinny, muscular legs they looked almost like pirate boots, in fact I do think they look rather a lot like pirate boots.  He was a strong figure who always wore body armour even when we were in public, which was never often mind. He always wore a black jerkin; sometimes he wore a leather one.  I called him Robin Hood once because he wore a green one.  I laugh at the sight of his face, if looks could kill; he gave me the sharpest of eyes a daggering glare.  He only wore black or white from that time on. It’s amazing the power of words.

            “As are mine.” Brom grumbled half heartedly. 

Brom was a man of many words, a strong father figure; I was his daughter as far as he was concerned.  He had a neatly trimmed beard which he kept well; he was a dark shade of grey all over his head and facial hair.  He was in his late forties early fifties he was unsure how old he was.  He had gentle creases in his skin around his eyes and mouth though they rarely stood out.  He looked quite well for his age.   He wore similar clothing to Auron except he wore a navy blue jerkin type top that was lose and a leather coat with no arms over the top.   He never wore a cape or armour.  He said it looked weak to wear armour, Auron disagreed and they would fight all night and day sometimes weeks over what looked weak and what looked strong.  It was amusing to see them fight it made a change to see something verbal.  Brom also wore similar boots to Auron.

            “Quiet Brom, Auron, I will send her out today to find this stupid offspring of hers.”  I was getting more and more annoyed by the stupidity of my elegant beast.  Why is it that she always had to give birth away from our head quarters?  It would make my life and theirs so much easier. 


            My vision was changing it was no longer in the pleasant countryside of Exeter, I was in an airport, holding a passport, it had a face on it that I recognised, an old friends face.  It was Henry, my American friend.  Yes, I can’t wait now for his appearance he was coming to see me.  I was sure of it that’s why I had the vision I’m sure.  I was so looking forward to his appearance, the question is should I tell Brom and Auron.  It wasn’t long till my eyes were able to see the clean green rolling hills of the wonderful empty unpolluted countryside of Exeter again.  It was pleasing to see the sun danced across each blade of grass, each beautifully shaped leaf, each branch, each feather on every bird’s wing that flew in the sky even the way it changed the colour of the clouds and made them glow a golden colour. 

The End

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