“Long enough,” Rafa said.
After clapping his hands twice and sticking his tongue out and allowing it to slither around his mouth and returns inside, he laughs.
“Tonight, we shall remind him of our presence.”
Phareeon shakes his head in agreement.
“Better yet, why not put him in the water and let me experience the cold.”
“Ah yes, he will surely fear that. He hates the water. He loathes it. All the dark ones do, which is ironic. You would think the dark ones like the water for they cannot see what is underneath them, therefore abandoning their life, willingly, to the shallows. Haha.”
“Yes, the dark ones are rather mysterious, but we must not lose track of our purpose. We must torment this man. For he has made an oath to himself, and the…”
“Shh…be not so loud Rafa, the Great One might hear us.”
“I’m afraid…I’m afraid Phareeon that the Great One is already listening.”
Rafa shakes his head in agreement but he slowly shakes in terror.
The motion to each other in a symbolic-sign-language making animal noises in-between intercessions, unbeknownst to the human ear.
They laugh. Cough. Howl. Their is no sound more terrifying than them.
Miguel, in his deep slumber, shakes and tosses. He is stricken by past memories of war and abuse.
Rafa and Phareeon shake his bed, dance upon on him like monkeys, and wave their hands and bob their heads like drunken monsters.
“Until the Lord returns from his exhile, we must wait patiently.”
“Why do you hesitate? Is there something you fear beyond your understanding?
“Rafa, why do you know? What have you heard?
“What do you know of this Me-si-Ca?
“You mean the chosen one?”
“Yes. What do you know of him?”
“But what if the Dark Lord finds out we are planning to go with the rebellion?”