Mary once had a little lamb. This lamb had magical powers. For it could baaa the most enchanting of melodies. If you heard certain melodies of this lamb, you could feel a compulsion to do many things. That is why this power of the lamb was as dangerous as it was wondrous. You could be forced by a magical compulsion to go try your hardest, to feel cheerful, or to slit your throat. The powers of this lamb were both capable of being good and evil. Mary was the one who decided which kinds of powers were to be exhibited...
First, let us speak of the beginning. Before anyone knew of the lamb's powers, Mary had grown ill. She had the horrible disease that had plagued their land for the past 10 years. The lamb was born and taken care of by Mary's lover, Larry. Larry was a warlock, but he was powerless to deal with Mary's illness. Her illness had in fact been concocted by Larry himself. A potion of his was brewed wrongly, and the noxious gases from the deadly potion made their way through the whole county. He felt such a great remorse, and he tried to bewitch the newborn lamb. He wanted to make the lamb kill him, so he could no longer feel such overpowering guilt. Instead he made another mistake.
Larry was an incredibly inexperienced warlock. He was very young compared to most of his kind. Many witches and warlocks are at least centuries old, whereas Larry was only 94 at the time. Though he looked no older than perhaps 25, and he was incredibly handsome with dark brown hair and electric blue eyes. Instead of bewitching the lamb, and making it kill him, he transferred some of his powers to the creature. The magic in the air was palpable, and there was a thick fog of magic covering the farm on which Mary resided. There was an odd absence of noise as the transfer took place...
The lamb's eyes widened and glowed a bright, malevolent red as a trail of magical fog wrapped itself around the poor lamb. There was menacing silence as the warlock's magic engulfed the seemingly frozen lamb. It wasn't until the fog had almost completely surrounded the being that you could see any movement from it. Seconds before the fog became an impenetrable wall around the lamb, you could see the sad creature's body begin to shake and vibrate...
Larry knew he had once again done something wrong. He tried his hardest to reverse his spell, to counter it. However, he was no match for his own magic as it condensed inside the lamb. All of the magnificent fog was disappearing into the lamb, as if it was a black hole. As the fog was sucked into the creature, through its gaping mouth, noise slowly began to return to the farm. Larry cried out in pain. The separation from some of his magic, his soul, was extremely painful. He felt as though he had been ripped apart and messily put together again. He felt like half the man he was only moments ago...
Larry clawed at his chest. He was delirious with pain. His fingers ripped through the fabric of his shirt and spots of blood began to grow on the rough, grainy fabric as his nails pierced and ripped his skin. He wailed and screamed as he thrashed on the ground in what could only be described as pure suffering. All of the magical fog had disappeared into the lamb, and it lay collapsed on the dirt floor of the farm house, its limbs twitching and what would sound like a baaa filled with pain and exhaustion would occasionally escape the lamb's mouth.
It became so quiet in the farm house as Larry's wails and thrashing discontinued. The lamb's little body, crumpled on the floor, was no longer twitching. The only signs of life coming from Larry and the lamb was the unsteady rise and fall of their bodies. Suddenly, they both opened their eyes. The lamb's pupils were a deep red and they began to glow when they met the blue eyes of Larry. The lamb rose to a stand from its pathetic position on the ground. It stepped toward Larry, an aura full of power surrounding it. The animal's soft, white wool coated with dirt from the barn floor. The lamb licked its tongue across Larry's bloodied chest, and the ugly lacerations began to close and heal after being coated with the lamb's saliva. If looking closely, it were almost as if the saliva itself were binding his torn skin together again.
The lamb took a step back and tilted its head, as if admiring its work. Larry took a few shuddering breaths before sitting up. He met eyes with the lamb. This lamb now held some of Larry's soul and magic. He knew that if one of them were to die then the other would depart the earth, as well. Did the lamb know this? It seemed to. The lamb's eyes dimmed and returned to a deep red as Larry began to show more strength in his movements. He stood up. He felt sore, as if he had literally been torn in half. In a way he had been. None of his pain was from his presently healed chest. His heart beat was fast, as was his breathing. He placed one of his hands against his heart and looked down at the lamb that had healed him.
The lamb seemed powerful, and not at all weak like Larry. He supposed this was because he had given the magic while the lamb received it. Larry was drained but the lamb was energized. The warlock was looking down at the lamb speculating. The lamb seemed to have grown, its eyes were obviously not the original chocolate brown they were before. The fur of the lamb was now positively white, as if it had never lain on the dirt floor. The lamb radiated waves of intense power. Larry looked grimly down at the lamb for one last second before a certain look crossed his face and he hurriedly ran out of the farm house in obvious excitement. He gestured for the lamb to follow him, and it did.
Larry ran from the farm house across the fields, scattering the herded sheep in his haste, and to the little, red house that sat on the edge of the large property. Larry opened the door and held it for the lamb following him. He then walked through the quaint rooms separating the foyer from Mary's bedroom. He had an excited glint in his eyes as he softly roused Mary from her slumber. Mary was merely an exceptionally thin body covered in a multitude of blankets, despite the heat of summer. When her face emerged from under a heap of blankets you could see the sharp angles of her thin face. Her skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, and she had little red marks covering her cheekbones and forehead. The whites of her eyes were slightly yellowed and very bloodshot. When she spoke you could hear that she had not used her voice for quite some time. "What's going on?", Mary quietly inquired.
Larry knelt by the bed and was softly stroking Mary's lank hair. You could see her relaxing under his caress. "I think I've found a way to rid you of this illness", Larry spoke softly into her ear.
Mary's tired, dull blue eyes widened and a tear leaked from her right eye. "Don't make such nonsense; you've already tried. Just let me be", There was great sorrow in her weak voice. Her eyes moved away from Larry's and her skinny arms were crossed on her chest. She seemed to be angry for she had allowed a spark of hope to flare inside of herself a moment ago. Mary did not want hope. She was sure she was destined for immanent death because of this illness. Larry looked surprised, but he wasn't going to let Mary die without a fierce battle. The lamb came further into the room, and stood by Larry who still knelt by the bed. Larry met eyes with the lamb and nodded.
First, let us speak of the beginning. Before anyone knew of the lamb's powers, Mary had grown ill. She had the horrible disease that had plagued their land for the past 10 years. The lamb was born and taken care of by Mary's lover, Larry. Larry was a warlock, but he was powerless to deal with Mary's illness. Her illness had in fact been concocted by Larry himself. A potion of his was brewed wrongly, and the noxious gases from the deadly potion made their way through the whole county. He felt such a great remorse, and he tried to bewitch the newborn lamb. He wanted to make the lamb kill him, so he could no longer feel such overpowering guilt. Instead he made another mistake.
Larry was an incredibly inexperienced warlock. He was very young compared to most of his kind. Many witches and warlocks are at least centuries old, whereas Larry was only 94 at the time. Though he looked no older than perhaps 25, and he was incredibly handsome with dark brown hair and electric blue eyes. Instead of bewitching the lamb, and making it kill him, he transferred some of his powers to the creature. The magic in the air was palpable, and there was a thick fog of magic covering the farm on which Mary resided. There was an odd absence of noise as the transfer took place...
The lamb's eyes widened and glowed a bright, malevolent red as a trail of magical fog wrapped itself around the poor lamb. There was menacing silence as the warlock's magic engulfed the seemingly frozen lamb. It wasn't until the fog had almost completely surrounded the being that you could see any movement from it. Seconds before the fog became an impenetrable wall around the lamb, you could see the sad creature's body begin to shake and vibrate...
Larry knew he had once again done something wrong. He tried his hardest to reverse his spell, to counter it. However, he was no match for his own magic as it condensed inside the lamb. All of the magnificent fog was disappearing into the lamb, as if it was a black hole. As the fog was sucked into the creature, through its gaping mouth, noise slowly began to return to the farm. Larry cried out in pain. The separation from some of his magic, his soul, was extremely painful. He felt as though he had been ripped apart and messily put together again. He felt like half the man he was only moments ago...
Larry clawed at his chest. He was delirious with pain. His fingers ripped through the fabric of his shirt and spots of blood began to grow on the rough, grainy fabric as his nails pierced and ripped his skin. He wailed and screamed as he thrashed on the ground in what could only be described as pure suffering. All of the magical fog had disappeared into the lamb, and it lay collapsed on the dirt floor of the farm house, its limbs twitching and what would sound like a baaa filled with pain and exhaustion would occasionally escape the lamb's mouth.
It became so quiet in the farm house as Larry's wails and thrashing discontinued. The lamb's little body, crumpled on the floor, was no longer twitching. The only signs of life coming from Larry and the lamb was the unsteady rise and fall of their bodies. Suddenly, they both opened their eyes. The lamb's pupils were a deep red and they began to glow when they met the blue eyes of Larry. The lamb rose to a stand from its pathetic position on the ground. It stepped toward Larry, an aura full of power surrounding it. The animal's soft, white wool coated with dirt from the barn floor. The lamb licked its tongue across Larry's bloodied chest, and the ugly lacerations began to close and heal after being coated with the lamb's saliva. If looking closely, it were almost as if the saliva itself were binding his torn skin together again.
The lamb took a step back and tilted its head, as if admiring its work. Larry took a few shuddering breaths before sitting up. He met eyes with the lamb. This lamb now held some of Larry's soul and magic. He knew that if one of them were to die then the other would depart the earth, as well. Did the lamb know this? It seemed to. The lamb's eyes dimmed and returned to a deep red as Larry began to show more strength in his movements. He stood up. He felt sore, as if he had literally been torn in half. In a way he had been. None of his pain was from his presently healed chest. His heart beat was fast, as was his breathing. He placed one of his hands against his heart and looked down at the lamb that had healed him.
The lamb seemed powerful, and not at all weak like Larry. He supposed this was because he had given the magic while the lamb received it. Larry was drained but the lamb was energized. The warlock was looking down at the lamb speculating. The lamb seemed to have grown, its eyes were obviously not the original chocolate brown they were before. The fur of the lamb was now positively white, as if it had never lain on the dirt floor. The lamb radiated waves of intense power. Larry looked grimly down at the lamb for one last second before a certain look crossed his face and he hurriedly ran out of the farm house in obvious excitement. He gestured for the lamb to follow him, and it did.
Larry ran from the farm house across the fields, scattering the herded sheep in his haste, and to the little, red house that sat on the edge of the large property. Larry opened the door and held it for the lamb following him. He then walked through the quaint rooms separating the foyer from Mary's bedroom. He had an excited glint in his eyes as he softly roused Mary from her slumber. Mary was merely an exceptionally thin body covered in a multitude of blankets, despite the heat of summer. When her face emerged from under a heap of blankets you could see the sharp angles of her thin face. Her skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, and she had little red marks covering her cheekbones and forehead. The whites of her eyes were slightly yellowed and very bloodshot. When she spoke you could hear that she had not used her voice for quite some time. "What's going on?", Mary quietly inquired.
Larry knelt by the bed and was softly stroking Mary's lank hair. You could see her relaxing under his caress. "I think I've found a way to rid you of this illness", Larry spoke softly into her ear.
Mary's tired, dull blue eyes widened and a tear leaked from her right eye. "Don't make such nonsense; you've already tried. Just let me be", There was great sorrow in her weak voice. Her eyes moved away from Larry's and her skinny arms were crossed on her chest. She seemed to be angry for she had allowed a spark of hope to flare inside of herself a moment ago. Mary did not want hope. She was sure she was destined for immanent death because of this illness. Larry looked surprised, but he wasn't going to let Mary die without a fierce battle. The lamb came further into the room, and stood by Larry who still knelt by the bed. Larry met eyes with the lamb and nodded.
