The Beginning of the End

The Beginning of the End 10

Patrick opened his eyes as the sun began to set, he knew that Ailwi, the dark one, was moving around the small-town setting traps for the poor mortals. This would be a very trying time for this small town, but he chose it for its isolation and the limited population. Some would die, there was no way around it, but the dark one would be tormented by each lost innocent for all of eternity once he has lost the battle. Patrick slowly stood and one by one extinguished each of the mediation candles but allowing the incense to continue to burn. He looked at them each in turn knowing that they would burn until the end of the battle, they would aid his strength, wits, speed, and resistance as long as they did so. Quickly he turned and headed down the stairs to work on yet more preparations.

He looked out his back door and into his garden, looking to see if any aid has come to him yet. He saw nothing if importance, so he turned and headed down into the basement, once down there he paused before heading toward an old armoire, one covered in dust and cobwebs. Spiders scurried away as he lit the oil lamp and opened the doors one at a time. He hung the lamp on a hook on the inside of one of the doors then turned his attention to the armor and bow that stood inside as if suspended. The armor had a very soft glow to it as he ran his hand across the breastplate, as usual it was dust free, nothing seamed to ever stick to it no matter how long it was stored away. He reached down and slowly drew the sword from its scabbard and carried it over to a table that had had a deep blue velvet cloth laid over it, and he gently laid the sword in the center. Once laid down the sword began to hover half an inch above the cloth, leaving no imprint on the soft cloth, as he watched it the stories of his father and Grandfather came back to him. Both had used this sword during their final battles, and both had been successful. His father was the last light elf to win his battle. ‘Oden, it has been so long since one of our race has won a battle against the dark ones,’ he silently prayed, ‘Will I be the one to swing the turmoil back into the light and vanquish my darkness as my father and my father’s father did. I see your ravens, mighty Oden, I know you watch as the battle grows near, I ask you, Oden, send me the ones I will ne to com out victorious in your name.’ Once the prayer was finished the sword glowed a little brighter and was now hovering an inch off the surface of the velvet cloth. Patrick knew this was a sign that Oden had heard his prayer and was going to give him what he needed, when, or in what form was unclear at this time, but he knew it was coming, and would be here soon. He left the armoire doors open, the lamp burning, and the sword hovering on the table. He had no use for them at this time other than as a gauge to let him know when it was time for the battle, the armor and sword would glow brighter as the final battle, his final battle grew closer.

Back in his kitchen he looked at his refrigerator and knew he needed to eat, but there was nothing in it. He had planned to go shopping and get some food today, but the shooting at the school had messed it up. He got his coat and hat then headed out the door, he would just start walking and decide what he was in the mood for as he strolled. He knew he would raise no eyebrows by doing this, because he always took and evening stroll. The cool breeze and the soft whisper of the trees as he strolled down the street always calmed him. Even though he was a light elf he was most comfortable at dawn and dusk, the blending of light and dark. He often wondered to himself if this would change if and when his battle was over, being a creature of light, he should distain the darkness. Only time would tell.      He noticed that he had stopped in front of Rudy’s café, the daily special was meat loaf with green beans, this sounded good, so he went in and took a booth next to the window and waited to order.