Okay, this is going to be short as I don't know
what........I'm still going through blockage hell. But bare with me. The
words teeny tiny ficlet are a serious understatement.
I still do not
have a title.
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Zechs looked up from his glass of wine and chuckled to himself. The
Sank Keep was serene as usual. He got up and streched his gorgeous body to
get out the kinks which were mercilessily acquired from reading in the same
position for an hour or two. He went to his personal chamber and yawned. His
life had been uneventful for more than a few decades. The balls and social
functions which came with being a Midnight mage and one of the most
beautiful mages to have ever graced life itself were jaded to say the least.
Still..... his amorous alter ego mused to himself.......the women never
ceased to amaze or please his appetite. Zechs went into his chambers and
carelessly chose something to wear. While he did not enjoy over worrying
about attire, he was quite vain enough to be well concerned about his looks.
After all, if pleasure was beauty's reward, Zechs had never been in danger
of being an unsung hero. Zechs walked through his room and the lamps lit
without so much as a word. He thought to himself about the all but too
common ability. He had far surpassed the years back when he had to speak in
order to manipulate his surroundings. It was the marking of a true mage,
or wizard. The unexperienced have to yell or shout their arcane
enchantments, and with their efforts, they often tired easily and were
subject to weakness only marked by a true novice. On the contrary, Zechs had
lived for at least three centuries, and he knew he was beyond powerful. His
own enchantments took only the power of thought. Something, the
unexperienced had yet to learn. Zech was indeed a powerful man. His fighting
skills were above reproach and his magery skill were unrivaled to say the
least. Some had called him a king and some had called him a god. No one yet
ever had enough power to rival him in the
least......except............rivalry......when was the last time he had
had a good ....................rival............the only worthy adversary he
had ever come across was his archrival.........
'Strange,
actually'.....he thought to himself as he settled in the tub. 'My greatest
match was one of the most arrogant, foolish, stubborn......and
powerful........' My rival.....indeed.....Noin was the only true challenge.
As he began to get dressed, he wondered out aloud, " Noin, little rival, how
is it that you were the toughest adversary I've ever faced."
