John and the Keeper by Modise Tlharesagae

Author:Modise Tlharesagae
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Modise Tlharesagae
Published: 2022-12-24T00:00:00+00:00

the king's sword

There was a violent rapture in the living area of the penthouse and there immediately walked in a young woman too comfortable to have exerted any force at all. And in her hands, she bore a naked sword flaming like a life coal.

“King Cyrus sword!” they all screamed at once in a startle.

And she in turn responded,” oh! ever so true. But it is no longer king Cyrus sword, it is my sword. What the hell is wrong with you people. It is my sword now.”

The young lady so schooled them in the exchange of hands before she continued, “And there is only one other sword that can stand against it and I want it right here right now.”

She said simultaneously turning the living area in to a riotous mess. Lightning and thunder roaring within the quarters of the penthouse as a light shower began to mingle all things in to a stew. They knew they had to vacate the place to regroup. The power and the authority of the young woman was unspoken of. For she commanded thunder and the clouds of a raining electric storm without much recourse or remorse. And she could even position a storm within the realm of a living area of a house, unheard of, but she deliberated it with much ease. And there were about twenty-one screaming voices about her in utter terror. It was obviously witchcraft, so young Ibrahim asked John as they landed.

“Is that a white witch or black witch”

“Forget all that you saw or heard in movies, there are no white or black witches, the word; witch means one who weaves bewitching crafts. Whether they fly or do not. Whether by human organization behind closed doors, it is the works of the devil. There is no such thing as a black or white witch.”

“Understandable, I will keep that in mind.”

“But then what about the guardian of the sword?”

“He is an exponent, meaning if the sword changes order, he would without consent be an exponent for perverted light. And until we awake him, we cannot stop her from wielding the sword.”

“Then we...”

Young Ibrahim was about to say something but thunderous whip of lightning decomposed his whereabouts shutting his senses with a numbing bite of a sudden shock. There was vehement chill and heat raging through his spine wiring the electric power to his fingers and toes. He was most definitely cast in to an involuntary vibrato, for the heat and cold were rather looting his senses of any composure if at all was any at hand. For without much ado, he could hear self-giving a rather high-pitched scream without any concerted participation. The noises automated self and was getting loud with the prink of the electric spike. A crack of John’s fiery whip in to the electric cloud, and he was suddenly loosed of the prink of electricity that was aimlessly ravening through his whole being.

He knew they were breached again, and had to sort a way to regroup and find a common place to further their conversation.

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