Land of the spirits

    It was just before midday in the land of the spirits, the once black nothingness now resembled that of a large town to house the 3 or so thousand spirits.  When the spirits returned from our world they had set about creating a smaller scale image for they believed that if what they left behind had a fault that was that it was too big for the few million or so humans. The city was situated atop and on the sides of a large hilly range. The buildings were made from a pale almost white marble like stone that had just the tiniest hints of blue lines criss crossed through it like a giant spider web. At the sent of the city, atop a patch of hill that had no other buildings for it was to steep, stood the town hall and council meet room. Lazarus was not an influential member of the council, far from it. He was allowed a seat purely because of his great strength and past deeds. The other council members regarded him with something close to mockery and the only reason he still attended the council was that he would have a voice among the people if the bad spirits broke free and somehow survived the curse he had laid down upon them. Lazarus had just been listening to Gootar, a spirit who took the semblance of an 18year-old-ish man with long black hair to his shoulders, piercing green eyes and a face similar to the pinch of a hawk. Many of the spirits no longer resided in their true forms, in which they looked similar to humans but made from wisps of smoke like tendrils. Instead the spirits took forms of that which please them, humans. Often humans mixed with an animal, which was why Gootar resembled a hawk.

    Gootar was head of the crops the spirits human semblances depended on, if their bodies dies the spirits could simply make a new one but each of their bodies was deemed a work of art, the supreme act that a spirit should put above themselves and their families. Lazarus resembled a man of about 60. A look of health and strength radiated from him with his long white hair and closely cut Goatee. And his large yellow tinged eyes that so resembled that of an eagle had a magical effect that seemed to be able to read all the thoughts in your head and yet at the same time reassured you that he wouldn’t unless absolutely necessary. He, most definitely, allowed people to make a mockery of him. People often insulted him or threw daggers at him with their eyes, he was like the small boy in the playground who arrived at school 2 weeks late and was an outcaste for the rest of his school experience. He allowed people to insult him and people grew in confidence. However he still new if he allowed himself the liberty to stand and that aura he used to posses to come back then he could make everyone in the room fall silent and could talk everyone into doing whatever he liked.

    Feeling in that far reaching part of his consciousness he was normally able to ignore and in fact rarely new it existed at all a sudden urgency Lazarus turned his attention inward feeling 2 alerts from his sensors. Every now and then the sensors encountered something particularly big they sent an alert. 1 might be a coincidence but he always investigated them anyway but 2. No, something serious had happened. It had happened. Enquiring of his sensor closer to the cell he was sent a mental image of a wave of despair flying out from an indiscernible source.  Lazarus used memories of the sensors exact location with his knowledge of were exactly the cell was. It was dead centre. There was no doubt about it, it had finally happened.

    Lazarus jumped to his feet so suddenly everyone was unconsciously aware of his immense power.  Gootar who had still be spilling on about meaningless fields. He was so distracted everyone was conscious of his aura of strength and by extension his sudden panic.  “I’m sorry” Lazarus managed to gargle before turning just a tiny proportion of his power into himself. Surrounded inn a cocoon of energy he felt his flesh begin to disintegrate. He allowed himself a moment of sadness that he would no longer be welcome in this world shadowed only by the amusement coming from the look of shock on each and everyone’s face that, with their animal characteristics made them even more3 shocked that they were. Yes, that look beat the sadness. And so it was with a final chuckle that Lazarus the last hope of mankind disintegrated from the land of the spirits never to return and instead materialised in the universe we all know.

The End

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