Xander the Maou
Greece was buzzing with more gossip than had been whispered since Helen had first started making eyes at Paris. The old adage that nothing moves faster than gossip was proving true. All over the countryside, strange rumors abounded of a wild young man, possibly a god, possibly a demon, who appeared like a whirlwind, and shortly disappeared again, often followed by screaming Amazons wielding swords and arrows, or by Strife, god of Mischief. All in all, it was agreed, that whoever or whatever this strange being was, he clearly had the worst sense of direction of anyone in the known world, barring Odysseus himself. Everyone who met him agreed, as the man kept asking the same question of anyone he managed to stop: “Which way to the ocean?”
* * *
Xander was TIRED. He had been running around for days, and no matter where he went, it seemed as though enemies were always around the corner. It was enough to make him suspicious, especially after his meeting with the guy calling himself the god of mischief. No matter how carefully he followed anyone’s directions, he simply could not find the ocean, or any large enough body of water for that matter. The few times he thought he was getting close had been sidetracked by the suspiciously-timed reappearance of the angry amazon lady.
“All right, all right, I give up” he called out, feeling slightly foolish. “Strife, if you are the one doing this, show yourself.” He waved a fist at the empty air, prompting a giggle from his sword.
A slightly higher-pitched one answered him back as Strife shimmered into view. “Now, now, let’s not be angry. You certainly led me on quite a chase. I’m amazed you lasted this long. Really, what’s the big deal? I just want to be friends.”
Crossing his arms, Xander replied, “yes, but if this is how you treat your friends I’d hate to see how you deal with enemies. Don’t think I don’t know you were responsible for me getting all turned around, and the constant attacks by the amazon bimbo.” He glared, but his angry stance was slightly ruined by Morgif’s need to add his own comment- a sticking out tongue and grumbling.
Instantly Strife was by his side, peering down at the temperamental sword. “Hey there, little guy, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just having some fun.” The only response was grumbling.
“So,” Xander drawled, “would you PLEASE tell me how to get to the ocean, so that I can get out of this place? I’m getting tired of getting chased by bandits and nothing but onions to eat. I’d like to try and find my way home, or at least somewhere with better food.”
Strife laughed. “ Sure, kid, so long as you take me with you.” At Xander’s grudging nod, he continued, “ocean’s just over that hill. I’ve just been clouding your hearing when people give you directions, so that you mix up left and right. If you’d just climbed a tree, you would have found it for sure.”
Xander snorted in disbelief. “And when did I have time to climb a tree? I spent the last week running! But fine, come along with me if you want. If you’re this annoying to me, I’d love to see what my enemies make of you. You’d probably get along really well with Buffy, she of the one-line quips at her undead opponents.”
Strife threw his arm over Xander’s shoulder. “Kid, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”
“Yeah, right,” Xander said, as they walked into the water. “Just keep telling yourself that.”
To be continued….
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