A short story ... number 2
Nethaniel sits at his desk, organizing papers into compact sets before stapling them in the bottom left corner. On the wall to his left, his long-sword hangs on a pair of golden nails piercing an ash plaque in the shape of a Norman Kite shield.
"This is absolutely ridiculous, " an ethereal voice comments while the marble fox works silently. "Let me down lad, I feel like what that succubus wench called me, a museum piece."
"Nope." Nethaniel answers, setting one pile of papers aside before working on another set. Out of peripheral, a yellow glow forms on his desk of a tiny robed human with his face covered by a hood. Epsilon's four inch tall avatar strides over to where he can stand in front of Nethaniel and force him to look at him. Nethaniel lifts an eyebrow and reaches for an empty stryofoam cup meant for his water cooler. Turning it upside down he places it on top of the tiny avatar and resumes working.
"Oi! Knock that off, arse! Get it off me."
"I'm working right now. If you want to squabble, we can do it later."
The styrofoam cup wobbles from side to side as Epsilon struggles to toss his "prison" off. After a few minutes, he earns his freedom by flinging the cup off the desk. "You got a lot of nerve boy. I was your mentor for goodness sakes."
Nethaniel feels a chill creep up his body as he turns his head to look down at the small avatar. Epsilon fliches, briefly, and recovers but, it was enough for Nethaniel. "Were you? You disowned me." His voice dripping venom with every word, he lowers his head to keep his gaze on the small golden hued avatar. "You tossed me out of Limbo, cursed me with immortality, and then, on top of all this. Show up several milleniums later to start dictating what I should do like nothing happened? "
"Curse?" Epsilon questions the terminology. "I didn't curse you. I gave you the ability to fight the enemy as the ultimate weapon."
"I am not just a weapon!" Nethaniel roars, arm sweeping across he desk, trying to knock Epsilon to the floor. Papers flutter while falling to the floor, Epsilon remains on the desk top, physically unmoved, however his emotion betrayed his concern at Nethaniels bitter hate. He folds his arms across his chest and glares upwards at the fox.
"Look here you cunt. It wasn't the right choice. I know that now, but don't go tee-toddling on me because of what happened all those millenniums ago. If you had just followed my lead-"
"I'd be dead! Worse, stuck in an object of status-qua like you are! You think I'm grateful to have lived, died, then be brought back every painfully fucking time?! I'm currently over four hundred years old....and I'm tired of this, repitition."
Epsilon bit his tongue, figuratively, and didn't say anything else until Nethaniel rises from his seat, clipping on his ID badge, then storms out of his own office. "I need a break," he mutters before exiting.
Epsilon watches the marble fox leave the office, and disappear down the length of the hallway next to it. "Fine, fine. You made your point." Pulling back his hood, the bald, weather wrinkle skinned, and bushy bearded man reaches up and scratches behind his ear.
"Hmph, stupid whelp. I saved his arse." The tiny human grumbles before walking to the edge of the desk. Summoning the fallen papers up onto the desk and back into somewhat of an organizable mess. He walks around a stack of papers and pauses next to it. It sits knee high to the avatar and he leans over the side of the stack to read its contents.
"Huh, what a load of gibberish."