With a flick of his hand, he sent man after man flying out over the ridge. This was no challenge. They were but fruit flies against his might and yet they continued to charge, blind hope leading them to their death in the chasm below.
He grew more bored than tired.
‘Hold them off’, he commanded. His trusted second nodded, tightened his grip on his sword and grinned manically before taking up position ahead of him.
The shaman raised his arm and twisted his hand into a claw as if trying to tear a hole in the very fabric of the air itself. His gigantic muscles bulged and strained, causing his blue skin to ripple. His mouth was open in a scream of rage, his teeth bared, but he produced no sound. He held his pose upon the unstable ground.
Dark grey clouds appeared and began to swirl above him. This battle, if anyone would remember it as such, would be over soon. The familiar numbing in his fingertips began to spread across his hand as the crackling of energy grew.
Tonight, he would hold. He would hold until his entire arm was numb and he would unleash a fulmination so devastatingly shattering, that it may just split their entire world in two.
He was the one, true shaman. The bringer of life for his tribe and the agent of death for all others!
When the numbness spread down to his shoulder, he pulled his arm back and down, took a deep breath and-
‘Jack? Bryce? Dinner!’ came the call from the kitchen.
Jack jumped down off his bed, scruffed his little brother’s hair and said ‘race you, loser!’, already half way to the stairs.
My fav so far!