(Somewhere in Keldagrim)
A man with steel-grey hair and eyes sits at a table, drinking from a glass. Being of human size, its a bit of an awkward seating arrangement, but its the best he could get. His Master never considered giving him a resizing ability, nor did he need it. He had spent so long with only two forms, and now he was alone. He thinks over the events that led to his arrival in Keldagrim.
'Our time has come, the Absolutes must step aside for a new generation' said Master 1, the Absolute of Balance, 'and so to protect what we have established, I am leaving you in charge of your own life.'
Cannon never truly understood what this meant. He was always independent, wasn't he? He knew of the Real Mortals, but their guidance and Master 1's instruction were never true orders, as far as he could tell at least. Cannon always used his own wisdom to think of solutions to problems, and M1 often encouraged this.
Now he understood. His Master was gone, and the world was changing, if slightly. Following M1's last words to him, he sought out his past, learning of the Dwarven Multicannons from which he originated. These early mechanical weapons were so different, he thought, just how much do I truly relate to these things?
He knew that some people would remember him, he knew some people would come to try to steal the power of Paradox, or even Balance, from him. He had some Balance power, of course, but nowhere close to M1. Nonetheless, he still had the power to teleport between worlds, not that he could do it too often any more. He wanted to stay in his home world, and for the first time in his life, he felt as though he was choosing his own path.
He was even drinking Dwarven ale. He doesn't even process alcohol, he just wanted to try it.
Freedom is an odd thing indeed, he thought as he finished his glass and ordered another.
07-Jun-2017 19:54:31
