Brothers in Blood

Oblivion. The complete and utter darkness of the void. Silence. A total absence of movement and noise that deafens the ears by drawing out even the memory of sound from the mind, leaving only a gaping vacuum of nothingness. And then there was light. And then there was sound. And the light ripped through the void, leaving a searing scar upon the infinity of Oblivion. And the sound shattered the silence, filling the vacuum with echoes of its passing. Light and sound. Thunder and lightning. A storm. Images flashed by like slivers of broken crystal tumbling in the sunlight: a pristine valley, a rural inn, a raised knife, blood. He struggled to slow the images down, to make sense of them. But a presence frustrated his efforts, a will as strong as his own. And somewhere behind it all at the farthest edges of his awareness, rang dark, echoing laughter. Thunder and Lightning. Silence and Oblivion. A storm is coming. Time to gather around the fire, lift a mug of small ale and listen to a good tavern tale.