Kudzu #42 – Origins of Legends

He awoke, head aflame, to a stone room awash in a blood-red light. He could not move his body beyond his head. The rest of his body was restrained by black stone clamps. He quickly put the pieces together. If he could punch himself, he would have. The elemental began moving again, eventually arriving at a spacious room with glass viewing ports along the ceiling. As the elemental dumped him on the floor, he could barely surge to his feet before a crackling field had closed the corridor off. Approaching it, he could feel its power from a foot away. Turning back to the room he had been put in, he realised it was not empty. A glass case in the middle of the room held an object obscured by some sort of fog. As he touched the smooth surface, the fog melted away, revealing a beautiful bow. The limbs were like a vine fresh from the jungle, and the belly was covered in pale flowers. The feeling of closeness was back, stronger than ever before, almost painful. The room was then bathed in the same light he had seen when he awoke. It tingled on his skin. The bow was shaking now, falling out of the stand it was placed on. As it touched the glass, the case shattered, sending glass pebbles flying in all directions. A hideous blaring noise like the cries of a warthog started flowing through the chamber, and he heard the crackling field behind him go silent, the telltale thump of the elementals coming closer. Seeing the only weapon he had access to, he reached out. As he touched the grip, everything stopped. The lamp holding the red crystal above him exploded, the crystal embedding itself in the upper belly of the bow. He had barely registered it before it was gone again, replaced by a small green figure he had seen before. In his Dream.

Siriin. He did not understand what had happened, but he knew what to do.

He turned around. 2 of the elementals had entered the chamber, reaching out towards him. Their movements were sluggish, easy to avoid. He danced away from them, touching a finger to the side of the figurine. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he drew a bright green arrow, the bowstring easily catching the fletching. He loosed. The shot flew true, easily shearing off the creature’s arm as though it was made from paper. It rocked back, landing heavily on its back. Another projectile punched right through the center of the second elemental, sending it onto its back and stopping it entirely. A third arrow knocked one of the walls aside, allowing an escape.

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