Snippet #1837102

A voice that meant nothing entered the king’s dreamless sleep. Never had he heard someone speak into his dreams before, but, what it said was slightly amusing. In the shape of time, the past did not mean a thing to the cruel man; the time that did matter was the future. The future was always happening and he was intended to keep up with.

Rays of the sun dropped onto the king, his eyes fluttered open as he felt the glow of the fire ball. His eyes locked on to the dwarven prisoner, he had sparred the tiny man’s life just for his own amusement. It was just yesterday that he had launched one of his attacks on the dwarf city, yet he and his beast guard brought it down in less than six hours. It was a remarkable thing, but how fast the done it did not matter it was the results.

“Tell me little man,” Azazel said in a silky smooth voice, “what are your thoughts on this little predicament?”