COMPONENT 07: Paths of Madania
The Forge held Gavin's arm in his giant fist. Angon was more than enraged; he wasn't himself. Something deep within him had set off anger, strength so great that he no longer had a conscience.
Angon stared down his arm at Gavin, unaware that minutes before he had been fighting to save his life. To the Forge, he was nothing more than another threat, a NEW enemy, so he squeezed his fist closed tighter, and Gavin screamed in pain. He thrashed, trying to free himself, but this only caused greater pain.
"Let me go, Angon!" Gavin pleaded, "I will do anything! Just please let go!"
Words did not matter to Angon. Nothing mattered to Angon. He continued to squeeze; that satisfying crack would come, but that would not be enough, only death would quell the molten anger.
The poor Elf looked up into Angon's glowing yellow eyes—they had turned a shade darker now, almost orange. Gavin pleaded with his own violet eyes.
"Please," he said.
For Gavin knew if Angon crushed his wrist he would never be able to hold his bow properly again. His hunting prowess, his purpose in life, would be gone. Not to mention he would be ugly and deformed. His existence would be pointless, for even his lover back in Windale would reject him—he'd be an outcast.
"Please," he begged.
But there was no getting through that wall of hatred. A wall that had built by the creator of the Forge long ago.
"Let him go, Angon." a female voice came from within the raging machine's mind.
For all the anger inside the iron shell, for all the death imposing destructive strength, there was a small quiet voice pleaded as well. He couldn't explain where it came from or if it was real at all, but something about it made him open his hand just enough for the pain to cease. He still held the Gavin tight, but his head dropped to his chest, and a whirlwind of thoughts spun within.
Who was this voice? Was she someone he once knew? Was she his mother maybe? His creator? A friend from the past that he just could not remember? Then another voice spoke, this time, the voice came from the ground by his feet.
"Angon," Lavina said, "What are you doing?"
The half-elf girl looked up at Angon and was confused. Why were there contours of anger in his smooth metal face? Her eyes trailed over to Gavin and saw the look of fear.
"What's happening?" Lavina asked as she sat up.
"Run for your life!" Gavin ordered her, "The Gargoyle has gone insane and wishes to kill us both!"
"That can't be true!" Lavina shot back and looked at the Forge, who in turn looked back at her, "Is it Angon?"
Angon shook his head and stared hard at Lavina. She was familiar to him; she was his friend—even though he had known her a short time, no more than the length of a day, he knew her. He could not hurt her ever--then he looked over at the Gavin and wondered why the Elf's wrist was in his hand.
"What happened?" Angon asked, releasing the Gavin.
"You evil twit!" Gavin shouted, balling his fist into anger as he replaced his dagger, "You nearly crushed my wrist! You nearly killed me!"
"I would never do such a thing!" Angon said, glancing between Gavin and Lavina.
"I know you wouldn't," Lavina said, putting her hand upon Angon's arm.
The touch held a power within it, for any anger that still resided with the Forge vanished in that instance.
"He did and he will!" Gavin snapped, "You will see, we won't wake up!"
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God Forge: Forge of the Mind (book 1)Fantasy
AZTERON'S JOURNAL Gods ravaged the land... The mortal realm, Anhsook Del Iris, suffered unrelenting attacks. Who knew why, or what they wanted? They wiped entire cities off the map. They searched for something. I didn't believe in them! What a fool...