IMP

Chapter 6: Aarun

"Why'd you do that, Moe?"

His thoughts were as though they were augured by a prophet. He let his rage sink into the abyss of

his consciousness. He wanted to make apt meaning of what was happening at that moment. He

couldn't be sure what he had heard or seen. His patience was being pored by curiosity and that should

never be a mill around his neck. His wills were whooshing as his veil was unveiled. His marks trailed

tracks on the consciousness of his being. He was just as heavy as the weightiest mountain ever grown.

His pain would subside but he needed his rage to be soothed. He had no idea what pain he was

referring to. He hadn't thought he was in any pain. He wasn't savoring any gaunt gores. Except from

the claws of the annoying but comely creature he had met few hours ago. He tried concentrating and

making meaning of quite the numbers of ambiguous things before him. He mated with rage and span.

Time was no longer seasoned to him. He did need a better option. He wouldn't stick to that forever. He

needed what he could relate too. And with. He let his instinct serve him a bowl of reasoning. He

allowed his bounty brain to whisper to his eyes.

That was his father's voice. Of course he did know what his contention was. He had always revered

and feared him of his offsprings. He did have no idea why and wouldn't or didn't ask. He didn't allow his

instinct to inflect his stance. He was a pull of a rage. He did commend the rage of his acumen. Twas

really trying to make meaning of the insanity. He had never experienced whatever was it that was

happening to him in that part of the world before. That should be his first and twas. And twas

nauseating to him. Pretty annoying. How could time be so treacherous to him. What had transported

him to there. He was trying to make confetti of ideas. Ideas were not tumbling by. They were simply

strangled. They were mocked by time and traces of wail. He kept his sanity up as he made his eyes a

pawn of scene. The old things were seen, the new had been smothered by the rusty rage of time.

He had no idea how possible twas for him to be in the underworld at that moment. Few hours ago

had he taken the creature to his hood. The remaining part of the story was blur. Yet remained the

question, how was he brought there? He did have quite the numbers of questions also. Like who

brought him there, by whose permission. He was hoping keenly that twouldnt be by his father's

permission was he brought there. If twas, he probably would fight him. Why would he do that without

his consent? He didn't give a damn about whoever a creature he thought himself to be. All he did care

for was all he could do and how he could get them done. That was his contention and of course he

would prune. But there was no time for nursing quite the nosy throttling of thoughts. The bottle of his

composure had been broken and he had no excuse but to fill his fits. If he did want answers, he would

ask his father. But would he answer a question with another question? A part of him didn't want to

provide any answer to his question. All he wanted to do was return to that other part of the universe

where he could watch the silvery traces up above him.

He took into consideration where they were at that moment. They were at the rear of the palace in

the underworld. The palace did have two doors. Only two doors. Twas said that the gods wanted it

thus. One door would be for the gods only and the other for the humans. But if treason did arise, many

would be killed before they would escape, for they would queue to leave the castle. Well, the recent

treason was quite a stray. None of the Vilkens, the good men died, only the evil family did. They did

have no idea what happened. But twas conspicuous that the gods intervened. If not the gods, who

would had kindled tongues of felon flames in the throne hall and which didn't burn any other thing but

the evil family. Even their tails were not lit when the tongue of fire did taste them. Even behind that

building were they. He had no idea what he was doing there. His father's look was burnished in worries.

He could tell from the way his lips hopped to the rhythm of a concerto he couldn't simply fathom. A

crooning he couldn't make meaning of or relate to. He knew of course that his father didn't care for him.

But he wasn't sure. He probably was just arriving at a defected conclusion. The voice of his father

smothered his throbbing thoughts.

"If you won't speak. I quickly begged a pardon of an excuse. When we were having a come

together in the King's castle about your unannounced departure and conclusion had been made on

hunting you down whether dead or life, I felt the need to leave there at that moment and was led here.

Coming out did I see you with back to the exit of the castle. If you won't disclose to me your

expenditure, yet go as far as you can away. Run as fast as you can. Never stop running, for all ruthless Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

creatures would hunt you. You have no idea the plots against you. They've have been meted and of

course you know that I have no say on them. I'm just a pawn as you are. Run, son! Son! Your charges

were great. Great my, son. They're calling me. I must go. If time permits and the right god wills, I'll

make the charges known. Run. Your loved ones will come for you. Even I will hunt you. Run"

His eyes like pages of a book flipped open. The retina were met with the rage of the sassy sun.

What had just happened to him? He heard a growl from beneath him which snapped him outta his

thoughts. He was on the tree. He had been sleeping. What would he call what he had just seen? He

had closed his eyes and had seen what would happen? He took sight of the cougar he had killed

earlier, twas beside him on the tree. Another wanted to play death? He wasn't in. What kept taunting

his bounty brain was RUN!!!!