ALONG LONE LORD

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The togetherness of the green threshold, the ivory house, and the wonderful landlord who was standing in front of the silver knob of the pistachio door. He rubbed the wood, whispering, 'I do not think that I would touch you again, or show you my face for I betrayed a lot of sense that you have made for me and my kins.'

Lord Cilus, he was, and the door was ajar like a crack in the wall, but he could not see anything happening beyond it, except his own face on the mirror of the wood. And he added, 'Up in the Mith, I wish I could have some willingness to take you back from the Gyrate, and against my fate...'

'I have not summoned you for your possession of the great power. I hold that in me for the great task I commenced long ago,' meddled Limba. 'But I command you to come in and see what is here and you will learn what is missing from being the man against the will and fate.'

The gap between the door was manifested, and there ahead lay darkness, except for six thrones in the circle, which were dazzling in divergent shines. However, the purple and white glitters were shadowless. In the absence of their masters, the red glow divulged its fierceness, saying, 'Mindless and amateur are to be forsaken. We do not need such mightiness that cannot mend our company in the grim time.'

'Look who's there,' lord Cilus interrupted. He looked ahead to left, tilting his neck. There was a smile on his face, but too, there was odd evilness in his posture. He walked past the white hair Limba to the red throne and looked down, adding, 'I do not have the strength of ire, lord Ruth...'

'But you are from the Gloom,' said lord Ruth, standing up and gazing at his watcher's eyes that were grave serious, though the grin remained there. But Ruth seemed to bother as he was so loud when he said, 'Gloom has more to give than glare would ever possess.' Clutching the edge of his throne, he continued in calmness, 'But anger is always transparent when it speaks; it is not treacherous like the cunning tongue this white wizard has.'

Limba overlooked the drag and slipped to his white chair. As he was about to sit, the hall became tranquil, and the remaining three shadows stood, saying, 'For the matter of the Gyrate!'

All of them fixed themself down together as did Limba; even Cilus walked to his purple status, and sat in the end, saying, 'Likewise the old time, huh! I am so far from this path.' and smiled, closing his fierce black eyes that had been shining silver in the dark.

The grimness and silence, both were presented in the gloominess until the red eyes of Sqeth Cofipot were flashed and he said in a weary voice, 'So long that I have nurtured the void that the void is now loving me and telling me the secret of its threat.'

'What it is if I may ask you, young lord,' whispered Jingble Jimbai from his green throne as he leaned ahead.

'The Gyrate!' cried Sqeth, and then he did not speak for a while until everyone leaned like him, and Ciceroni smiled, putting his hand on his eyes and whispering, 'Likewise the old days with youngsters!' and then heard, 'Girisha's nightmare held a meeting when the boy sleeping behind this hall scattered from Aryavarta, and the reason, they kept saying was the interference of an otherworldly being with spectacles. Hiren said that he is Grisel Thämutarge. But when I went to the assembly beyond Olamdiar, I found that Grisel is traveling with Zurgard, the man who bends time on his accord, and they do not wear glasses.'

'Someone is lurking the Gyrate and the knights?' butted in Cilus. 'What a drag!'

'No!' Sqeth stood. 'All I learned is that the Gyrate and someone else in the glasses are hunting those globetrotters to acquire the mightiness of the celestial. And once they will achieve it, we do not stand a chance to disobey those omnipotent entities.'

'Neither the fifteen Creators will be able to aid us if that happens,' meddled Limba, showing worry. 'No, if that happens, then even Rugo and the sisters cannot defend the Creators from being a lost legend.'

'You all seem scared,' said Cilus, rubbing his chin. He walked to the door and put his hand on it, adding, 'I know Zurgard, and I know who his pawn is. But I also know someone else who is dragooning him.'

Lord Cilus looked at everyone with determined eyes, and continued, 'I am Ciceroni, the eye of this stronghold. I have defeated the Time Master and even the Gyrate in younger days ere the fifteen lords after Olamdiar were the master of the Ananta. But then, someone was a nightmare for me that I have not figured out yet. Someone way eviler and wiser...' He put a scull mask on his half face and added, 'There might be the chance of new havoc when I was asleep. But they should have done that before. Because time has now changed. I am not trapped anymore, so does the power beyond the Gyrate; there is no blood pact to weaken me, and neither I have any burden like old age. Even though I am a forsaken lord, I am here by some strange chance. And if the boy wants me to go after the Gyrate or the Time Master, I will cut everything that comes between, and make the long-waiting miracle happen. But only if he commands me. Because I owe him my life. And it seems, it is worthy for we have the same aim...' and he became grim as the door opened and a voice said, 'The Gyrate is mine to annihilate. Do not come in between. For sake of this world, I will create a key of the shackles and make a new Arya...'

There was a hand on the shoulder of a hooded man wearing square spectacles, who continued, 'Aryavarta was a free land for us a century ago when Girisha was the main guard. But King Ruthrva made this mess, assigning the Gyrate for his stronghold. And our land was doomed. Girisha was overthrown, perhaps, died. With him, his ascendancy is gone altogether, as we know the fifteen realms are now one. Therefore, I disdained him and the whole kingdom Uttain for a long time. I know my father does that too, but to save me, he has to be loyal to the wrongdoer. I hate it. That is the reason I have commenced what once Girisha started. And I, his inheritor will make a new kingdom where we can live without worry and fear. And also, I will need the guards...' and he smiled and whispered, 'I wish, you guys will join me to create a revolutionary Gyrate...'

That man snapped his silver-ringed fingers, raising his spectacles to his eyebrows. 'To make everything happens, let me think whose to hunt first...' He turned back to a blond hair guy, Klir, whose ponytail was waving in the air as if he was the only one feeling windstorm around him.

'Hiren is going to die,' said Klir, bowing down with his hands folded. 'I brought the killer.' and he smiled, raising his hand from the floor. He manifested that he was holding the neck of Joy, and said, 'The boy is my hostage from now until I become the throne holder at Mith!'

Ciceroni leaped ahead in a flash that the door banged and the glass on it crumbled. But the kidnappers were gone before he could touch them. The power of his move was so tremendous that he fell down rolling to the next wall and to the tree door.        

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