Ergo stood against the wind. They
were very much alike he and this March wind. It was bitterly cold,
almost arrogant in its nature. However, the nature of these winds
is fleeting, much like his expression of defiant poise. Both passed
leaving the man appearing broken and the snowy northern landscape changed,
cold and solemn.
Ergo had been a great man in his
time. Now he was only old, and broken, like a vase. No not
like a vase, because a vase in its time can be construed as beautiful,
and this man was never beautiful. He was like an old iron sword,
now broken. In its time the sword was like the wind cutting everything
in its path and passing on unscathed. The beauty of this sword was
in its grace of movement, in its potential. It killed with such speed
and finesse, like a mad dance both beautiful and bewitching to see.
Now it was broken, not by battle but by beauty.
It happened many years ago, when
he was a young man full of power, and immortal in the way of youth.
He was an ugly man, grizzled, and clumsy. To add insult to injury
he was not very bright in the ways of people, and life. He was cursed
in so many ways, however he did shine in one area. There he lit up
the heavens, he moved like a whirlwind, and struck with unmatched fury,
and power. He was without equal.
To tell his story it is important
to tell of his youth, and coming of age. This is important, because,
as much as who he was born to be, those around him shaped who he would
become. Most important in Ergo's life was Hugh, his master, and benefactor.
This is just an intro to some stuff I've been working on for some time....