Come With Me: Three Is The Magic Number

“We have a legend on Earth about a woman called Bloody Mary. If you say her name in a mirror three times she will appear, depending on who is telling the story she will do lots of different things.”

Lucy gave another chuckle, I’m not sure where she was finding them, her home lay in ruins around her. Shock most probably, we both were shocked, as you’d expect.

“We have a similar story,” she said, “but you say his name three times whilst you but a drop of blood in the ocean.”

“That’s slightly more dramatic than our story.”

We reached the top of the steps and stopped to catch our breath, it was a long way up.

“Where now?”

Lucy looked towards the hole where the great giant doors of the palace should have stood, instead they lay inside the hole on the floor in a thousand pieces. “We can start at the top and work our way down, my rooms are up there.”

I nodded and we set off into the palace, stepping careful over the destruction that littered the hall. I nearly froze in awe at the grandeur of the place, I had never been anywhere quite as fancy as this place before. Great tapestries hung from the high vaulted ceiling to the floor, most of them still surprisingly intact, the rest were charred, and torn, a battle had obviously happened in the hall way. At the back of my mind I wondered how they had become charred.

“Why’s it always three?” Lucy asked.

“What?” I asked dumbly.

“Why in stories is it always three. Say Bloody Mary three times, go collect three pieces of this magic artefact, things like that.”

“They say three is a magic number back on my world.

Three is a magic number. Yes it is, it’s a magic number. Somewhere in the ancient, mystic trinity.” I didn’t quite sing it but there was a slight hint of the melody.

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