Legend of Nimrod

A black crow perched on the lower branch of a danjo tree, its feathers blending into the night. A wizened voice called out from the darkness, "My friend." Beyond the clearing, leaves rustled. "Ah, I see you've arrived."

An ancient man emerged from the shadows, his age seemingly measured in centuries. The crow cocked its head in salute. The old man chuckled, a dry, croaking sound. "No need for pleasantries, Marcus. Come."

He beckoned, moving deeper into the underbrush. The crow released an irritated caw, then swooped down, circling before landing. With a flash of light, the bird transformed into a squat, ugly man. "The boys are just beyond the clearing," he said, hurrying to keep up.

"I should be allowed to enjoy the night as a crow," he muttered, swatting away branches. The old man's eyes glinted with amusement. "Our desires are nothing compared to what we must do."

They veered left, entering a wide clearing where two boys lay asleep. "Have you tested him for the knack?" the old man asked. "Aye, he's a multiplier, and unblooded," the squat man replied.

The old man's smile gleamed with an almost feverish light. "Wake the multiplier. He has tasks to do." He stepped closer to the lighter-skinned boy, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "His destiny is great, and his success depends on him remaining a pawn."

"Great One," the squat man called out, "the multiplier is awake." The boy's voice trembled, "Where am I? Who are you?"

The old man's grin flashed with anticipation. Tonight, powerful magic would be worked, and he wouldn't be the only one wielding it. A cloud drifted over the moon, plunging the clearing into darkness. When the light returned, the clearing was empty. The four had vanished.

I made some minor changes to enhance the flow and clarity: