Undesirable

AWAKENING OF MIHIR

'Lord Ciceroni Cilus, I am glad that you visit this stronghold in my watch,' said Limba who rose above his seat, drinking water in a wine glass. He pushed it high over his fingertip, and the water did not spill even though the glass was then hovering upside down.

The hut or the mansion, it was doubtful to define when old Qarsha took Joy in and, later, Ciceroni slipped in with great pride. But when he in the black flames was walking in the royal hall, it was huge and was dazzling with silver lights. There were three golden chandelier on the ceiling that was more like a half sphere to fit that big lamp. They were making a triangle on the top and, on each edge, there were doors. Besides, lots of yellow frames were there in which stayed the nature's beauty with a hut common in that on every pinnacle; there were lots of stone arts of beasts and men and women on the ivory wall, and where Ciceroni was trudging was an enormous marble stone in the golden hue. But instead of looking at where a dragon shadow was flying beneath his legs, his sight was fixed on a throne in front of him while he was smiling.

Limba Ravrni in the royal white cloak was sitting there, with his hood on. As he jumped up on the throne and hovered as his wine glass, his hood and cloak loosened to manifest the silver plate on his body that twisted and reshaped as he bent himself and stretched, and he said, 'You indeed woke me up too early from this futile seat. I may...' Ciceroni snaped his fingers.

Limba ceased himself speaking and fixed his toes on the marbled floor, and then added, 'I am wondering if you still have any power to summon him back from...'

'Do not get excited, Limba,' meddled lord Cilus, altering his flames into a cloak. 'I am here by some queer chance of reality. I do not belong anywhere since I become a follower of him. And if he wants me to take your brother back, I will happily go into Despair...'

'You will not have to,' came a thick voice from the back as Qarsha came putting on his spectacles. 'His era is passed to your neck. Even though you want to run away, this house holds the chain of your collar.'

Ciceroni put a scull mask on his face. 'I am a hollow who cannot be the Hound, old man. I have no will for anything...'

'Groggy people in the mightiest house,' whispered Limba, walking opposite to them. 'It will become more interesting when they struggle in this Nugatory.' And he laughed, walking out another door to the left of the hammer throne.

However, nothing surprised Ciceroni, save the voice from a photo over the throne: it hissed as the air whizzed around him with the words, 'For old and the new, this world is still for the Gyrate who has blended it together. But the Hound does not like this queer manifestation. So do we. Our love is now in the process to find the attraction. And it seemed that in your past life, you loved power over everything. You even became strong to go, bang his door and overpower his whole tyranny. But then you were trapped as your brother. You both have the same fate and weakness, however. And that is what makes you the Hound. You are too bound to his reality...his Hounds...' and the voice laughed, fading away.

The air was something else for Qarsha: it said to him, 'The lone boy has not arrived yet. But once he does with his love, you are free from your oath to this house. Nevertheless, now is naught for any grumbling, or devising the ill omen, but to keep them in till an uncertain morning when two stars shine through the mirror on the pinnacles.'

Old man Qarsha bowed his head, and the air was swallowed in the frame to portray the man hidden in the sand, though his blue jeans and slippers could be seen, and a hand in a position as if saving his face from devouring into the dunes.

'I see,' said Ciceroni. 'I am so happy to hear all undoing and my freeness over this world.' He trudged to the old man looking down on him and said, holding his shoulder, 'Soon to be the dead man or hallow, who you are going to be, I do not care. I am just protecting what must be to make me free from all shackles.'

'But you are free from now,' said the old man. 'I can take him in the Despair to make him strong as you. And then he can be standing on his legs without anyone's aid. Do not you want that for yourself?'

Ciceroni grinned, and whispered in the old man's ears, 'He is...he is a secret. Neither I comprehend his bravery...'

'And he is foolish like you too,' screamed Limba, and they looked at him in the corner. 'Now that your attention is drawn to me, then follow my lead. We will soon face an Empyrean of the Skylod. They have power in their eyes. I do know what they can do, but they are strong to survive the gravity of the space outside our sphere.'

'An Empyrean...' said Ciceroni, taking a step forward. 'Are they even alive after my last visit?'

Qarsha looked back at Ciceroni who added, 'Death...I wonder if I should be happy that they are free from many duties, or sad for those who are left behind the lost ones.' He took a step up as the dragon shadow moved. 'I cannot decide it myself. Cannot find rationality for that...'

'Because you have lost your will,' said the old man. He proceeded to the grey door, saying, 'Anyways, go on my boy Limba. You have all arms. But I am out of it now...need some rest.'

Limba became angry, but his face seemed ridiculous that Ciceroni said, 'Oh, my...my! What a fanny tongue you-gara speak...' Ciceroni walked to the chamber in the corner and added, 'Anyway, I shall join your council for my good health and measure until the boy awakes.'

'No!' said Limba. 'You are not allowed if you just want to sit and hark. These halls are for those who put their words in for a reason. They even want your blood to feel you. They want your pain and worry. I know you have such things in you after spending long hours in a nugatory while having a fishy dream. I can feel your pain, but you cannot. Because you are the Hound...'

'That reason is enough to take him in your song, Limba,' said Qarsha. 'He will be your great ally once the boy opens his eyes. Until then, I will delay all perils beyond the main door...'

Limba and Ciceroni beheld him and he vanished into the floor, grinning while putting his glass upon his sharp eyes.

Limba said, 'He has decided his quest. But your delay can be his death in the next hour. I want you to follow me in the four men hall, from there we all six we go to the two sisters and Maia for...'

'For the...' Ciceroni put the mask off and manifested a white aura around him. 'I have many fantasies. And I do not care for anyone's fall. But now that you have shown your wit, I will want you to wake my boy up and we will happily follow you to the sisters for your love for them. There I will help you gather the news of other Empyreans than one in Despair.'

Limba gave him a stern look, sauntering beside him to the straight. He did not speak a word when he opened the green door and as he went in, it was locked with a heavy sound.

'I can see that the Hound you speak is still unworthy in your notion...' said Lord Cilus, smirking. 'Or you fear them...'

*

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