Writing the future

Erzelus’s POV

In my long existence, I was a soul weathered by the time and games of gods, like a thread woven through their universe filled with their perverse games, intrigues and ulterior motives. As the old saying goes, I’m as old as a mutton trying to pass off as a lamb. Well, that saying is just plain bonkers, in my case, I guess. Because I am not quite a lamb nor a mutton either, I guess. I am more of a big bad wolf from your bedtime stories, but I guess that wasn’t the point. The point was that despite my body being wrapped up in a nice package of a strong, sprightly, young and masculine lad, I am not a young chap, nor am I strong. It is a facade which belies the ancient turmoil residing within me. Now, when I think things through, it’d be more accurate to say that I am more akin to the big bad wolf of folklore, a creature of myth and legend, but my story is not meant for bedtime tales.

But that also wasn’t the point. The bottom line here is that I am as old as the hills.