Heir to Darkness

by Vivid Syntax

Chapter 7 - Choose Your Weapon

Present

Brimstone set his hoof down on the carpet, just shy of the cut mark. He rolled his shoulders back, folded his wings in, and spoke clearly. "I have made some mistakes, father. As have you."

Sombra frowned, his eyebrows knit. With a sudden softness to his voice, he said, "Of course. I am looking at one right now."

Brimstone glowered. "Then allow me to relieve you of the burden." He leaned forward, flared out his massive wings, and pointed the tips at Sombra. The tips of his trusty wing blades were fashioned with impossibly black obsidian.

Sombra's head cocked to the side, and he laughed. "You did finally grow a spine, then. Excellent." He squinted at Brimstone. "And from the looks of it, you prefer to use bladed weapons. I accept, and I will even spare you the embarrassment of using magic."

Sombra twirled his head, his horn beaming with purple light. A wall of conjured smoke appeared behind his throne, easily ten meters wide and five tall, and the temperature in the room dropped noticeably. The smoke solidified into a wall of hundreds of different weapons, from morning stars to lances to dozens of varieties of swords.

Brimstone faltered as he took in the scope of the collection.

Sombra turned back towards Brimstone and grinned. "Impressive, is it not? But I'm sure those little wing knives will be just fine."