Before I knew it, the rays of the two morning suns danced
across my face, bringing me back from whatever half dream state world I had
just inhabited.
“How
are you feeling this morning? You haven’t talked much these last couple of
days,” Piccolo said.
“I’d
feel a lot better if I wasn’t being kept in the dark about what’s really going
on,” I replied.
“I know
it’s hard and your head is spinning right now Adam, but you have just got to
trust me on this. Everything is going to
make sense very soon.” I could see the
sincerity in his eyes. One might imagine
the eyes of a lion man would always burn with a fierce intensity and dangerous
sharpness. Piccolo’s eyes always had a
quality of peace about them. In this
form, to be well over eight feet tall in my estimation, such a towering giant
would send panic down the streets back on Earth. People wouldn’t take the chance to even see
the tranquil seas that would stare back at them. Knowing this, I still proceeded to give my
old friend a hard time.
“For
all I know you could be leading me out here somewhere to kill me. This could be revenge for the times I didn’t
change your litter box out every day,” I said jumping down from the tree-side
mound I had been resting on.
“Ya
know, that really isn’t a half bad idea.
You humans have no idea the hell it is to smell a three day old litter
box with a cat’s nose,” Piccolo said as the gem in his fiery belt started to
glow. Like fireflies, tiny white dots
started dancing around Piccolo as he began to glow a bluish white himself. He glowed brighter and brighter for the next
few seconds until a blinding pulse shot out from him in all directions. I did my best to shield my eyes, throwing up
my arms in front of my face, but my eyes were still left feeling how they
always did after picture day at school.
As my off tinted vision started to normalize, I saw before me the
familiar friend I had known for the past eleven years. Piccolo had returned to his normal house cat
form. Well, as normal as a talking telepathic
magical transforming house cat can be anyway.
Piccolo’s
coat was always shining, much like a little sun itself. The ash grey of his fur was sectioned by rows
of darker grey, but not quite black, stripes down his back, much like a tiger. His eyes always lit up bright like two jade
stones, full of life and wisdom. We got Piccolo when I was six years old. It was Christmas morning, me and my sisters
flew down the steps, leaping into the living as fast as we could. It was just the three of us then, my little
brother hadn’t been born yet. We turned
the corner and to our delight there was the most adorable, tiny kitten sleeping
on the couch with the brightest red bow on the back of its little collar. We probably scared him half to death,
shocking him awake as we burst out in cheers and celebration over our first pet. Crowding him for space and smothering him
with tiny hands, we welcomed Piccolo into the Carter family and little did I
know he would save my life all these years later. Returning from my stroll down memory lane, I talked with Piccolo about how far we needed to trek that day.
“We need to make it to the Watcher's house today. We need to go there first before we make our way to the Sentinel. We need her help before we make our way to the Sentinel." Piccolo informed me. This wasn't the first time I had heard of the Watcher in these past few days, and a small, nervous excitement grew in me once I knew I was finally about to have a face to put with such a mysterious name.
No comments:
Post a Comment