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Rated: E · Other · Fantasy · #1949738
This is chapter 4 of my book "Wizards and Neanders". Please give me some good feedback.
The crowd of people parted as an old man walked down the middle of their street like a river flowing around an island. There was a space given to him that closed in again after he had gone by. The old man held a long black staff close to his body, looking as if he was physically drawing strength from it. He walked tall and proud ignoring those around him, setting his gaze straight ahead and not looking to the side at all. Even though he acted like he wasn’t aware of the people all around him he was very sensitive to everything being said and he could hear the whispered conversations from the people he passed.

“Is that a black staffer?”

“What’s he doing here? I’ve heard that everywhere a black staffer goes death follows behind him.” Even though he didn’t look over he knew it was an old lady. A pain started in his stomach at the words, hearing the lies that had been passed around by his families enemies. They had done their work well.

“Is he here to curse our village? Shouldn’t we tell someone he’s here?”

“Don’t worry everyone will know in a minute. You know how fast gossip travels through this place.” That from a deep voice in the back of the crowd.

“Hey black staffer, what are you doing here? Are you here to curse our village?”

He didn't care what they, or anyone else, in this little town had to say to him. He was here on a mission and he wasn't going to be diverted. The event everyone had long waited for was just about to take place and he had his job to do. His long silver hair hung down past his shoulder and he was clean-shaven which was very unusual for someone in that region. He did have a moustache though and it proudly stood straight out on either side for quite a ways and was entirely silver. Some of the children were laughing and pointing to his moustache.

He swung his head around and focused his eyes on them and they immediately stopped laughing when they saw that his eyes were totally white. As she saw his eyes one little girl screamed and ran away. He turned his eyes back to the path in front of him and gave a little inward grin. Scaring the little girl felt very good. Of course no one knew how he really felt. He didn't grin on the outside. He wore no expression on his chalky white face, which matched his eyes. He knew the image he presented and its effect on regular people. It was the curse of the albino. He had decided to enhance his image as much as possible so he wore white robes and white boots. The only thing about him that had any color was his staff, which contrasted with his clothes and skin very nicely. It was a deep, dark ebony. The black in the staff was so intense that it drew in any light around it causing a darkness which was hard to penetrate.

Up ahead his keen ears picked out someone saying, "There's a black staffer coming this way."

He was not surprised he had been branded with a ridiculous name like that. It was actually quite flattering to him and fit in very well with the image he was trying to give. Still he ignored everyone and walked down the middle of the road. This was his first time experiencing a town in thirty years and he wanted nothing more then to get back out of it, but he had his job to do and he would finish it at any cost. He felt sad when he thought about what that cost would be. He had seen it before and knew what would happen, but that knowledge was not going to keep him from doing his duty. It was a duty he had trained for all of his life and even though this particular duty felt like it weighed as much as a mountain still he made his legs keep walking, putting one foot in front of another.

Just in the middle of the town there was another road that intersected the one he was walking on. He came to the middle of the intersection and stopped. He knew a crown of people had been following him and he turned to face them. He raised his staff in the air and everyone around him stopped talking just staring at him.

"People of Rayburn, the time of the Mellorah is at hand. He who was prophesied to come and banish the evil has arrived in our world." He shouted so everyone could hear him. "Prepare yourselves for the time is at hand. Prepare your families and your homes. Prepare your hearts and souls to greet him properly. He will be your salvation."

He looked around at the people and saw that he had their attention. He lowered his staff and started walking again. He came to the next intersection and once more stopped right in the middle and raised his staff. He saw there were more people in the crowd. “Good,” he thought, “that would make his work easier”.

Once again he repeated what he had said earlier, word for word. It sounded very rehearsed, which indeed it was. It had been passed down for eight generations through his family. Every man in his family knew this saying. They were required to memorize it from the time they turned five years old. "People of Rayburn, the time of the Mellorah is at hand. He who was prophesied to come and banish the evil has arrived in our world." He shouted so everyone could hear him. "Prepare yourselves for the time is at hand. Prepare your families and your homes. Prepare your hearts and souls to greet him properly. He will be your salvation." He stopped talking and lowered his staff.

"Go away black staffer and leave us alone," someone in the crowd cried out. There was a general murmur of agreement that rumbled through the crowd. He had been expecting this. He had foreseen it all.

"I am here to warn you that if you don't participate in the Mellorah then you shall all be destroyed. You will not survive the wars that are about to unfold. Only by preparing your hearts and souls to give to the prophesied one can you all be saved." He shouted the last part. He knew, though, that it would not work. He had been to forty other villages in the last ten days and he knew this was his last one.

He had seen this scene a hundred times in his head. He knew what would happen next, but he was still determined to play out his part. It was his mission and his job. He knew it was to be his last mission.

"Who are you to threaten us?" Someone else in the crowd yelled at him.

"I have come to prepare the way for the prophesied one. He walks our world as we speak. Soon he will take his place as our leader and we will go to war against evil. If you do not join us you will be crushed." He brought his staff down with the last word and pounded it on the ground. The earth around him started to shake a little like a shock wave which spread out from him into the crowd knocking down several people but doing no real damage.

Some of the children in the crowd started screaming and he tried to feel remorse for them. As hard as he tried however, he couldn't. He knew the rest of the story. Which story would be played out just moments from now.

"What are you doing to us?" someone else in the crowd shouted at him.

"People of Rayburn, the time of the Mellorah is at hand. He who was prophesied to come and banish the evil has arrived in our world." He shouted so everyone could hear him. "Prepare yourselves for the time is at hand. Prepare your families and your homes. Prepare your hearts and souls to greet him properly. He will be your salvation."

The shouting in the crowd increased in volume. He slowly raised his staff over his head for what he knew to be the last time. "Oh God, I have done as you commanded me." He didn't try to shout to be heard over the crowd. He said it quietly in a regular tone as if conversing with someone standing right next to him. I am prepared to come to you now."

As soon as he said this he felt a rock hit him. It hit his arm and caused a lot of pain. Then he was hit by another one in his leg. Soon he had been hit four or five times. The pain increased every time he was hit. "Oh father, take away my pain." He whispered this last part.

As soon as he said those words all of his pain left him. He could still feel the rocks hitting him and he could feel it when he fell to the ground, but there was no pain associated with any of these events. As he looked at the crowd of angry faces throwing rocks at him they all started to fade away. All he could see was a strong light that he felt was coming from the inside of his head. He didn't feel any pain at all. He felt glorious.

He didn't feel the people in the crowd come up and start kicking him. He didn't see them spit on his body or take it and throw it in the river on the edge of town. He was with his father and his father's father and his God. It was glorious!

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