Scene: VI Act: I ..."Rise up and take thy place, Hand." The Red Knight smiled up, (Up?!) at him, and he could feel the very fibers of his being radiating out from him, like waves. Waves of fire. He clenched his massive fists; he could surely hold the weight of ten swords in one hand. Nothing could defeat him now. He was complete, both body and spirit. "Master," the voice was deep and resonated through the barren chamber. Was that his voice? "Master, I feel like the whole world has emptied out before me. I am a Fire that cannot be contained. What have you done with me?" he asked, starring down at hands that could crush boulders like they were leaves. The Red Master knelt down and gathered something into his arms. A body? Yes. It was the body of a young boy. His old body. "I have given thy spirit a new house. One of strength and purpose." his master replied as he laid the fragile body of the boy atop the stone alter. "Thou have become The Hand of Vengeance. A weapon of my making. Able to crush the might of the Three Chalukai Lords." The gaint came and stood before the alter, looking down upon the shell he had now left behind. Had he ever really been so small, so weak? It was hard to remember. Even though it was only moments ago, it seemed to him that an eternity had passed. "Come." the master said. "We must prepare for battle. We shall not return till the Chalukai Lords are dead at our feet." The whole cavern shimmered. The walls seemed to waver, then fade. The gaint, who was now Hand, looked around in amazement as the illusion fell from his eyes. The chamber was not barren at all, rather it was cluttered beyond belief. Ornament objects, armour, weapons of every size and make littered the floor and walls. Piles of gold pieces, goblets and jewels were poised precariously around the room, some nearly to the high ceiling. "For thee." The Red Knight threw a greatsword to Hand, who caught it up like it was a twig, when it was almost as tall as he. He turned around slowly in silence. A helmet. Armour. A greataxe against the far wall. He would clothe himself for war. All the pieces were here. His eyes returned to the still figure laying before him. And with great tenderness he reached out and touched the head of the boy, caught up in eternal rest, and whispered, "For thee, I go......." The first act of this story is seven parts. You can check out my gallery for the previous scenes. One more to go, then I'm gonna take a break on it for a little while. I've got other things stirring right now... -cheers-