The Young Magician

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A thousand years have come and passed since the demon god, Lin, licking his lips with a swipe of his long, dancing tongue, abandoned the ruined carcass of this world, much as you and I would toss aside a finished supper bone. He called his servants from their probing and picking of bones with a resounding howl and they swarmed like fiendish insects back through the unearthly portal that led to their own hellish domain. With the feasting done, there was nothing left to interest them in this world.

Their mystic gates boomed shut behind them and disappeared with a bang and a crackle of thunder and there was not a hint left behind to suggest the demons’ existence, save the endless sea of sun-bleached bones that littered the ground in every direction.

However, as someone with a little experience does, the demon god had withdrawn his hordes just before the final hour, sparing the final seeds of life-shivering and sheltering in their tiny hollows-from destruction. He knew how these little things clung to their precious existence and that they would one day thrive again, given half a chance.

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