"Zelas-sama, it isn't that I don't appreciate the power you've given me. Because I truly am grateful. It's just that--well, I'm not quite confident yet, and I'd feel better if I had some sort of weapon."
The Beastmaster regarded her creation with a slight smile. Lack of confidence was not Xellos's problem, she knew--and she knew that the stubborn streak she had given him would not permit him to give in until he had what he wanted. She was actually rather proud of this one.
"Very well, Xellos. Give me your hand."
She sensed a little surge of triumph from the mazoku as he reached towards her. Poor fool. She would not always indulge him like this, but he must be taught that persistence was a virtue. Besides, she was in no mood to deal with a stubborn Trickster Priest.
With the tip of one finger, she traced a straight line along his palm; her touch left a thin bar of silver light against his skin, which began to widen and broaden as she drew back. It grew, took shape, lengthened--and became a long pewter staff with a scythe-like double blade at its end.
"Zelas-sama..." His eyes widened in astonishment. "It's... beautiful. More than I'd hoped."
"It is quite a piece of work. Do try to be worthy of it, Xellos." She chuckled. "I think I shall name it... the Silence Glaive."
"Any particular reason?"
"It got you to shut up, didn't it?"
Somewhere in the infinite darkness, the Lord of Nightmares felt an odd stirring; she let out a sigh that extinguished a few stars on the earthly plane.
Damn Destiny, always had to make such a damn racket when it was on the rise.
Across time, and space, and physical laws, a Goddess was drumming her fingers.
The book of prophecies had been accurate up to now. The Silver Millennium was just beginning; peace still reigned supreme. Even the Silent Planet had fallen into an agreeable and decidedly unobtrusive orbit.
Which was pretty much the problem.
Fate seemed to be stalling. The eighth Senshi hadn't appeared yet. Even Pluto, whose sight reached far into the future, was hazy on the outcome of this problem.
She sighed, a sigh that stirred a slight tremor across the moon's tranquil surface. Time was running out, and not even infinite wisdom (well, all right, almost infinite wisdom) could remedy this problem. The solution simply did not lie within her grasp--a geniunely embarrassing problem for a deity.
Perhaps a summoning might do some good. After all, a fresh viewpoint would probably be useful, and if not... well, if not, she'd have somebody else to share the blame, wouldn't she?
