Amos was running, faster and faster, his feet barely touching the ground. The wind roared defiantly, his hair was perpetually flung back. It had been so long since he could truly use his legs, his powers. The God's smile was ear to ear, but it was a bittersweet happiness. He had been running just for the sake of running, he had no idea where he was anymore. Shortly after his powers reconnected with himself, he took off in a random direction. All the while he was letting instinct guide him while he thought of his weapon.
Amos remembered what had happened. It had been a cruel fate centuries ago, he had lost all of his powers and was fighting somewhere in Europe, he didn't know where exactly. Regardless, Amos remembered being overwhelmed, a feat that was by no means easy for humans and he was killed, but did not die. He awoke later, perfectly find but Cerbanis was gone. He searched for decades trying to reunite himself with it but to no avail. He didn't want to give up, that wasn't how he did things, but Amos knew he would find it again one day so he put it at the back of his mind, until now.
His sword, the extension of himself, wasn't going to be easy to track down. Thankfully, with his powers returned, certain sources were once again available to him. Amos slowed, then stopped. His running had taken him far, he was in a different part of the country, no doubt about it. The masses of trees before him gave way to the small beauty that was Earth. It was the wild places, the ones Humans seldom wondered, where he felt at peace. It painfully reminded him of home and a frown struck his face. He walked through the trees until he reached a small clearing, feeling satisfied, he called out.
"Hear me spirits! Fairies! Any creatures! Come forth and show yourselves!" His commanding voice, now heightened by the return of his powers, rang clear through the forest. In no time at all, he was surrounded by a menagerie of the supernatural. Creatures he never thought he would see again. There were fairies with their bright colored bodies, nature spirits of all varieties, and even a couple of dryads.
A blue fairy, with hummingbird wings fluttered at eye level with him and spoke in a high pitched voice. "My lord! Have you felt it? The gates have opened, magical energy is flowing again! Happy we are!"
Amos stretched out his hand and the fairy landed, instantly its color erupted into a brighter blue.
"It is wonderful is it not? But I can not see them with my own eyes to truly gaze upon their glory once more. You see, I have lost what is dear to me, my sword. I ask you all, but a task, help me find my sword? I can reward you all greatly if you can find it."There was a murmur of excitement in the clearing as fairies whipped back and forth talking and laughing. Such mirth was good to hear, but Amos had pressing matters to attend to. Not soon after he had requested help, many fairies came forth, including the blue one, and said they would gladly help him. He thanked them, and gave a small boon. A bit of energy for the forest in the form of a small golden ball. It didn't look like much, but put to good use, it could do wonders. One of the dryads took it graciously and they all departed.
Then Amos heard the bell. A wave of nostalgia and memories swept over him, of the times when the bell was heard across the Heaven's. Of all the Gods gathering in the
Hall of Twilight, built in reverence for his mother and father. He could tell exactly where the Bell had been rung, but by who and what purpose? There was only one way to find out, and with that, Amos began to run again. The fairies would have to find their way to him.
It had been an ordinary day in the life of a young adult.
Keyla had gotten up, gotten dressed, ate breakfast, and left for the festival with her family. The annual festival in the town of Maybell, Oregon was celebrated by townsfolk and the surrounding counties, each and every summer for the last fifty years or so. This one would mark her nineteenth year attending, and it never ceased to amaze her what people could do. Somehow the city planners always wanted to outdo the previous year and this had become the norm for the last ten years are so.
Everything had been going so well, they day was warm, the breeze was cool, and the town was alive with activity. Then she saw him, from a distance walking through the park, an old man wearing clothes that were old. She had to blink to really see if what she was looking at was real, and it was, for she was not the only person to stop and stare at the man. Eventually he wandered off, but Keyla couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen and no matter how much she tried to shrug it off, her mind came back to his visage.
It was around noon when it happened. There she was, standing in the midst of some vendors with friends when she heard it, a clear ringing bell that resonated into her very heart. She instinctively asked if the others had heard a bell, and to her surprise, no one had. In fact, when she looked around, it seemed that no one had. Somehow she had heard a bell, and somehow, she knew exactly where it had rang. In Maybell, and it wasn't far away. She hesitated, how could she know that? Curiosity took hold, and against her better judgment she excused herself from her friends stating she had to go to the bathroom, and left towards the origin.
It was farther then she assumed, and led her to the part of town that many thought should be torn down and rebuilt. It was eerily deserted as she walked down the streets, everyone was probably at the festival she told herself. Once again, the feeling that something bad was going to happen permeated her soul and when she rounded a corner she saw him, the old man. He was standing in the middle of the street to her right, brushing himself off and scowling. There was a large indent in the street next to him, it looked like a pothole. Then without warning he looked at her now frowning. Panic gripped her heart but the man did not move, instead he opened his mouth to talk.
"So soon. Well, which one are you then?" He asked her.
