Snippets

Good, Evil, Where's the Line?

The hero, merely a shaggy haired kid in this life, looked up at the serpent with a glowing sword held firmly in shaking, callused hands. 

He was so close this time, his trainers had told him he would be able to do it if he tried to catch the serpent off guard. This damned serpent, the monster he was told would destroy them all if it could, this murderer and monster.

Yet it always got him in the end, he could still remember last time. 

He had, in that life, grown into a fine young woman, bright blue eyes in soft pale skin. She shaved her hair so it wouldn't be able to pin her like it had done a few lifetimes ago when she'd been a man with long braids and gnarled scars along his dark skinned arms. Yet it didn't stop if from tripping her, long fangs still making his breath catch when all he could do was remember the times they'd plunged into her back, or his neck, or her limbs. Or straight through his head as was the case during the second time he'd come back. 

The serpent was bleeding, so that had to be good. But as he swung back at it, it gave a hiss and he flinched. It struck out and suddenly his sword was flicked away, his moment of glory now turned to horror as it loomed above him. The slick white scales, arrow like in shape, scratched against the stone of the cave he found their latest battle taking place in. It's pink eyes watched him with slitted pupils and he noted that it must have died some time in the last few years, it'd been a cobra last time, if he remembered correctly. This time it had no hood, it would have spread it by now, but as he watched it he noted the difference in head shape and movement. Still had the same colors though, and those same fangs as it opened its mouth.

He braced himself for the strike as he stumbled, trying to head back, to flee. It's body begun coiling and he struggled. The sword was somewhere close by the glow he saw coming off the stone, but the serpent's body hid the complete view. He spat at the serpent's face as it drew itself around him. It reared briefly before looking at him closely. 

The hero was uneased, it usually didn't take this long once it had managed to get him to drop his magic or sword. It was quick like that, and they were thankful for those last mercies. He'd died by others hands before and sometimes they liked to prolong the suffering just for the hell of it. But the serpent was always quick, but it now only stared at him.

He looked back and saw that hideous intelligence and gave a curse to it. It hissed slightly and he closed his eyes expecting it to finally go for it, but a minute passed, then two, then ten. He opened his eyes and stared, the serpent was still watching him before it spoke.

It hadn't spoken for awhile, he could remember it only doing that when he'd been even closer to killing it. He never remembered the words but he remembered the lives. A young woman with pain in her heart, sword held aloft over its black eye, a older man with a grizzled scar running down his face and to his chest with it backed against a city building as fire hovered at his fingertips, the grizzled hag of a person with vines strangling brown scales as it wheezed and twisted painfully. So many more passed breifly but he shook his head as its voice spoke again.

"Why?"

He growled, "You know why!"

He didn't know what it was talking about, but he assumed it was the killing thing. That's what happened around it, it was a horrid murderous monster after all.

It twisted its head and seemed to sigh, "Really?"

He narrowed his eyes, "Just kill me and I'll be back."

It looked over him and lightly twisted its face up as he tied to spit into the pink mass of the iris again.

It tilted back down, and slowly it spoke again, "No."