Inspired Bye

by smithaw50, posted in Uncategorized

I couldn’t finish digging her grave.
Everything was sore: hands, legs, and my arms trembling from an adrenaline crash and the damp, rich, heavy soil.
I couldn’t stop crying, and my face was a mass of unpleasant liquids.
I couldn’t stop apologizing either, though she was already gone.
There’d be no cairn, for the land seemed devoid of stones, yet I would not leave her to the scavengers.
You don’t have to stay. The voice in my mind sounded muffled and far away, as if her spirit spoke through a thick veil.
“If I don’t stay,” I replied, “you don’t rest.”
I don’t want to rest.
That piqued my curiosity. “What do you want?”
For us to change places.
“You want me to die?
Yes.
“Why?”
So I might live.
“You’re the one who got sick on the journey.”
Yes, but you’re the reason. I traveled to look for you.
“To kill me?”
Yes. You shouldn’t have left me.
“You knew I wasn’t staying, Alisyn. You know I couldn’t.”
She said nothing for a while; she lay there, just looking up at me with those sightless eyes. I thought for sure I’d closed them, but I couldn’t honestly remember.
I tried to start covering her again, but the soil was so heavy. I couldn’t lift it to throw dirt on her face, to cover her eyes.
“I could still use my hands.” Scooping some soil, I began walking toward the top of the grave, and stumbled, as if something had pushed me from behind. The dirt flew, landing on her stomach, covering her hands.
Come rest with me.
“I don’t need rest.” I stayed on my knees, my hands resting on my thighs. “I need sleep.”
Come, then, and sleep.
“Not of that kind. You’re dead.”
Because of you.
“Stop saying that!”
She whispered it. Because of you. Come rest with me.
Something tugged at my sleeve. I snatched my arm away and swung at nothing, getting to my feet.
I tried to look away, and when I couldn’t, to walk away. I could do neither.
Rest. Rest, and start again.
“That’s not what you mean. You mean to have me in there with you!”
It’s peaceful here. When you leave, no one else will ever come here. You once said you loved me. Come here, if you do.
“You said you loved me too. If that were true, you wouldn’t ask me to do that.”
But that is why I’m asking. I want you with me forever.
Something shoved me from behind. I turned and wildly struck at nothing again, but the shove knocked me off balance; I was right at the edge of the grave, and reflexes made me lean the other way to regain my balance, which I did just in time.
What a willful man you are. A selfish man. I never knew.
“You did, Alisyn. You did, but you couldn’t accept it. It’s why…why I left.”
And now you’re here. I forgive you.
“I did nothing wrong. I didn’t ask you to come after me .” I was on the very edge of patience.
But you knew I would. You knew, but you couldn’t accept it. You can’t accept it even now.
I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for sarcasm: “And now you’re here.”
Sitting on the edge of the grave, I dangled my feet inside, over her body; I looked unafraid at the unseeing eyes that looked right through me.
I loved you. I love you still. Come, rest beside me.
I felt hands begin to rub my calves, finger spreading, massaging; as they moved, small wakes of pulsing light outlined them, leaving pieces of soil behind.
If I tried to stand, they would seize me; tears flowed afresh, and I didn’t bother trying to stop them.
“No. I want to live.”
What is life alone?
“Mine, to live as I please.”
Where’s the good in that? What’s the legacy of that?
The unseen hands moved to my shoulder; the ripples of light pulsed a bit slower, and dimmer. I closed my eyes as they spread a pleasant warmth through me.
“I know what you’re trying to do, Alisyn. Stop it.”
She laughed. You stop me.
Another surge of adrenaline came, and I slid back, fighting the languor that turned my bones to lead; I managed to make it to all fours, then fell on my side fighting for breath.
The hands took advantage, and rolled me, with no effort, into the grave to land on top of her.
Panicked, my eyes wide and darting, looking anywhere but into hers, I tried to find a purchase to stand up and climb out, but only managed to wriggle like a worm in the deadly fingers of a ten- year old.
“Alisyn, let me go.”
No, you selfish, willful man; I can’t trade life with you, but for once, I will be selfish and demanding:
You will stay with me.
As my vision darkened, I looked one last time into her face.
Her eyes were closed, and her dirt covered hands slipped into mine.

M is for Mortal

by smithaw50, posted in Uncategorized

I knocked, like I always do, respecting her privacy, but there was no answer.
“Baby? Kora? Are you there?” I went to check the bathroom, but heard no water, so I went back to the door and turned the knob.
He was there, holding her in his arms as she whimpered, answering with a soft snarling purr muffled by the tender flesh of my daughter’s neck. I don’t remember what happened next, but I do know that I smashed his head until it was pulped, and held my daughter as the blood pumped out of her.
She was a pallid bust of herself by the time it was over.
You’ve taken your revenge, Kharis. Now I will take mine.
****************
In the morning, I waited until the fire collapsed the house, and carried my daughter’s body to the old church cemetery. There were no tools to bury her, so I put her in a large toolbox, and locked it.
“I’ll come back for you, angel.”
The scent of her blood was on me, the scent of the lemon shampoo in her hair lingered with it, a coppery sweetness that jumbled my feelings, but not enough to wash them both away.
They would scent my child’s blood, and come after me.  I would smell her lemon shampoo, and remember who she’d been, and what she meant to me.
*******************
I found the lair just before the sun went down, and waited in the darkness, sword in hand.
I heard the slide of heavy stone and the creak of ancient hinges as various coffins and doors were opened.
Kharis’ widow approached. “You killed him.”
The sword was already in my hand, and made her stop. “I did. He claimed my daughter.”
“That is not our way.”
“I know, but now, blood cries out for blood.”
“I’m not giving you mine, priest.” She smiled in amusement when she said it; I’d fallen, not bothering to get back up.
“Someone has to.”
Her soft laughter reverberated. “I like your confidence.”
The others were behind her, eyes shining, skin translucent and white-veined in the thickening shadows; that would fill in as they fed, but they wouldn’t be feeding tonight, if I had my way.
She turned her back on me, and walked out while the others came toward me, baring fangs and laughing.

***************
I spent the night in their stink, lifting their cold guts in my fingers, trying on their gold, admiring their sprawled out, open-eyed, red-streaked beauty.
There would be no pyre; I would not have them in peace. I half wanted them to rise, so I could kill them again, but the sword had done its work; there would be no pursuit, and no second chance at revenge.
No one left to kill meant no reason to stay.
I only had one left to hunt.
Your turn, Narkissa.

*************
She’d set my daughter free, and the two of them looked at me as I entered.
“Hi, Daddy.”
I wiped the tears and sweat from my eyes, but they returned as if I hadn’t. “My daughter’s dead.”
She smiled. “Good. That will make this easier.”
She looked at Narkissa for approval.
“Go ahead, darling.”
She ran toward me.
My sword came up.
***************
Slumped against the wall, my hands held Kora’s hair like a bundle of flowers; it was almost over.
Narkissa was enjoying herself, sipping slow at my neck and wrists; my veins were on fire from the bites, even as my body shivered from the cold. I heard the crunch of fangs popping, and felt the coursing venom sting.
I don’t know how long she took, but a languor washed over me that sapped my strength.
She was granting me the final mocking mercy of smelling Kora’s lemon shampoo for the last time.
The stink of my corrupted blood pecked at it like crows on the battlefield.
My vision grew dark, and the scent of lemons faded.
Then it was gone.

 

Can’t Stay, Can’t Leave

by smithaw50, posted in Uncategorized

 

Eddie
I captured an outdoor table at our favorite local coffee shop as my girlfriend went inside to get the coffee. It was a pleasant midmorning, and casual strollers who got up before noon were enjoying the coolness of the morning.
Jill was inside getting the coffee.
There was a distant booming noise, as if thunder were rolling across the ground.
The air went white, and the temperature searing; my table flipped over and into me as a massive gout of firs shot down the avenue. Tumbling out of control down the street, seemingly no more heavier than a piece of paper litter, a blast of wind picked me up and threw me further, and the white of the sky grew brighter until it suddenly went black.
Death is a mercy.
*******************
I don’t know why I’m still alive; that shouldn’t be.
There are places where the rubble still smolders.
The radiation is patiently nibbling at my flesh, pulling bits of scraps like a jackal sneaking up on the panther’s kill.
I want to die. I need to die.
I’ve seen myself, and Jill wouldn’t have me now, if she was still alive.
Jill…Still, I feel her arm around my waist, see her hair shining in the sun, and the smile in her eyes as she laughs at another one of my dumb jokes. It’s either sincere, or she’s a good actress, but I love that she makes the effort if she is acting.
I’m going to miss her laughter.  I start to cry.
I’m all alone here. 
Just for the hell of it, I reach out to touch her…

Jill
The shards went everywhere, hit everything.
People died from the places they went, and no matter how I try, I can’t look away from the carnage.
Eddie’s gone, but so is the chair where he was sitting.
The rest of the people are piles of bloody ashes in the street, up and down the block.
Arcs of hot light are streaking the air, so I stay low, looking for survivors, for first responders, for anything, but nothing is moving.
No one is coming.
I know I’m in shock, but I don’t scream, I just focus on trying to find Eddie, knowing it’s stupid to try, but there’s nothing else to do now.
There’s certainly nowhere to go.
I don’t even know what the hell went wrong, but it went wrong fast.

**************

I don’t know why I’m still alive; that shouldn’t be.
The air shimmered in front of me, in the shape of a hand.
Jill, you’re hallucinating; don’t be stupid.
But just for the hell of it, since no one’s watching, I reach my hand up, and invisible fingers grasp mine.
Eddie?
Hands touch without meeting, and I don’t know what he sees wherever he is, but we stay like that because I can’t go to him, and he can’t come to me.
I’m going to miss his stupid jokes. I start to cry.
In the distance, I hear the first of many sirens start to wail.

Diamond Dungeons

by smithaw50, posted in Uncategorized

The High Court looked down at Zarya, the young oracle who was to carry out the next portion of the proceedings after the verdict.
“Bring the Diamonds, girl.”
She bristled at the old man’s tone, but the King was watching, so she kept it to a brief flash of irritation instead of calling him what she wanted.
The obsidian box was on a dark, polished, well-worn mahogany pedestal, the amber light of nearby candles dancing across the glistening surfaces like lost souls seeking sanctuary.
Bearing no love for the men on trial who watched her as she opened the box; she felt their eyes on her even as her thoughts drifted.
Poverty drove people to do things they wouldn’t otherwise do, as she’d discovered in her own life.
The king she served was a small and petty man in every way, like a child.
Giving willful children power is always a losing gambit, her father would say as he disciplined her.
These men had killed a deer on the king’s land, then had the misfortune to run into the game warden and his men, who tied them to poles, and beat them for hours, breaking bones and damaging their insides until their sadism was sated.
The King, eager to deal personally with the matter, had them healed by the court wizard Irhan, which brought more pain as their bodies unnaturally became whole again.     He waited another two days until he was sure they could stand and there were no side effects before he handed them over to the guards.
“Zarya! Why do you hesitate, child?”
“Apologies, your majesty.” She invoked the spell that would infuse the gems with the eldritch power to imprison the souls of men.
Soul of raven, song of lark. Change these stones from light to dark.
     If these men are guilty found, pull them in and hold them bound.
The magic coursed through her, a warm suffusing of pleasure and power with an edge of discomfort, like needles tickling the sole of a foot.
Grim with silent contempt for the small king, she gave each man a large, sparkling diamond; just one amounted to more wealth than the four of them combined would accumulate in their lifetimes.
Taking the gems in trembling hands, closing crying, frightened eyes, they muttered their prayers in fervent whispers.
To their credit, Zarya noted, they did not whimper and plead for mercy, bravely facing the consequences of their actions.
True men. Their only crime is being poor in a greedy kingdom.
*******************
As the seconds turned to minutes and nothing happened, the bewildered men began to tentatively smile.
The Chief Councilor noticed. “What sorcery is this, girl?”
“None, my lord, I swear. I invoked the spell. If the stones have not turned, they are innocent.”
“You presume much, young oracle. Hold your tongue.” He turned his attention to the game warden: “You said you saw them.”
“N’ so I did, y’maj’sty. Carryin’ th’ carcass n’ covered in blood, they was.”
The King turned his attention back to Zarya. “Hand me the diamonds.”
She stiffened. “Your majesty, none but the Oracles may handle—“
“I said, ‘Hand them to me.’ I will not ask again.”

She struggled with all she’d like to say to him; instead, without a word, she collected them and brought them over to the dais.
He shrank back; had she not been so close she would have missed it. He’s afraid of me.
When he had one in front of him, he told her, “Give one to each of the senior members.”
They blanched at suddenly being caught up in this mockery.
She nodded once, and distributed the other diamonds as they too watched her as if she’d sprout a second head. When she handed out the last one, the room was so silent she could almost hear the dust settle.
“We will examine these ourselves,” the King said.
Immediately, the councilors began to argue.
“We know nothing of gems, your majesty.”
“We certainly know nothing of their magic!”
“Your majesty, reconsider; it’s only a deer.”
“They’ve been punished enough by the game warden.”
“The carcass has since rotted. They can’t claim it now!”
The sudden bang of his fist on the table made them all jump, and brought immediate silence.
His glare at them was ice on glass, shiny with cold menace. “No one steals from me. Had they petitioned, I would have granted it.”
Zarya bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
“They chose to steal, so…” he looked at Zarya again, “either these gems were spelled to falsely prove innocence, or they are, if you’ll pardon the expression, flawed.”
There was low, nervous laughter that did nothing to relieve the tension.
“Perhaps we’ll find something the experts missed. Take the gems, gentlemen.”
A different set of hesitant hands picked up the diamonds.
The surge of magic scared them, and as they tried to drop and throw the diamonds, they found their hands locked fast. Cries of outraged horror burst from them as dark auras began to creep from the gems and enshroud them.
They entreated the king and Zarya to stop it, but she couldn’t do anything.
The men began to melt into the auras, they began to drift toward the center, where the king sat encased in his own miasma, eyes wide in fascination, too frightened to move or speak.
You stand condemned, your ‘majesty.’ Strangely, she took no pleasure in it, but neither was she said.
The King’s body shuddered, his eyes filmed over, and the short guttural cries that issued from him sounded as if he was getting repeatedly punched somewhere vital.
One by one, the white diamonds turned black, but the diamond in the King’s hand shattered. The people who remained close to the dais were running and covering their faces, covering their eyes from the flairs of the dark strands of power that flew out toward them, killing some as they tried to get out.
*************
The Councilmen and the King were gone.
Some minutes were spent letting the shock wear off.
Zarya didn’t have the authority, but there were none to gainsay her. “Your innocence has been established before this court and council. Return to your homes in peace.”
They left, weeping and laughing, clapping each other on the back, and each of them just about hugged the breath out of her.
When the room finally cleared, and Zarya went to retrieve the gems, the king’s wizard stepped from the deep-shadowed alcoves.
“Oracle Zarya?”
“Wizard Irhan?” She stepped in front of the obsidian box.
“May I?” He held out his hand, and swallowing, she handed him the gleaming black diamond.
Turning it in his hands, he saw the light play across the lines and facets, like lost souls searching for a door out of an unholy sanctuary.
He handed it back to Zarya and smiled.
“It was you,” she said, eyes widening.
His eyes flared red in warning as his index finger touched his lips; she was never to speak of it.
Satisfied she received his warning, and confident she’d heed it, he turned and left her there in the darkening hall, in the deafening silence of a final, terrible judgement.

 

Arch Enemies

by smithaw50, posted in Uncategorized

Jullandro closed and locked the door, a foolish gesture against those who were coming; it was more of an act of misplaced faith than protective.
“It’s Archmage Irhan and his men.They’re hunting you, Aleina.”
She only smiled. “Let them come.”
“You can’t defeat them.”
“How do you know?”
Jullandro swallowed, not wanting to say, though not saying it would mean the death of the only friend he ever made.
“Better than you have fought against them, and none survived.”
“Did any of them possess this sword?” She placed the blade under his neck and lifted his chin on the point, making it pucker.
Jullandro swallowed again, eyes fixed on the blade, making him almost cross-eyed.
It was a scarlet metal, rare, with a dark beauty to it that held the eyes. The name Soul Reaver was engraved into it in elegant script that belied bloody intentions.
“N-n-no.”
“Then we don’t know if I can’t defeat them.”
Jullandro allowed himself an angry breath as she lowered the blade, putting it back in its sheathe. To him, fighting with a sword full of power wasn’t the same as fighting with skills against other men.
To be fair, however, she wasn’t fighting men; they merely looked the part.
They were dark mages who dealt in summoning, arrogant in their abilities despite countless tales about those who’d lost control of the summoned.
As they grew in power, they stole land and wealth, snatched women and children for slavery, slaughtered by magic the men who could fight, and the old people who could do neither, they cut down like wheat and burned in pyres.
Her grandparents had been in one of those.
He shook his head. Her own arrogance may actually make the difference.
Outside he heard them say, “She’s in here.”
“Run, Aleina. They know you’re here.”
She tied her hair back, and went out to meet them.

*****************
The air was awash in power as she faced their assembly, and a small flash of doubt darted through her like a minnow in shallow surf.
The men before her had robes of red gold, tied with black silk; there were orbs of eldritch light full of arcane power around their hands.
Aleina took a deep breath to calm herself. She would give them no fear to feed on.
In the depth of his cruelty, Archmage Irhan appeared to her in the shape of her grandfather.
“What sick madness is this?” she hissed, charging the man, only to find him not there, and behind her.
He dropped the form, his alternative human shape standing there, chuckling.
“Are you so easily baited, child? Fortunately for you, we’re as ancient as we are. If we were so impetuous as to attack as soon as possible, we’d be extinct.”
He sighed, even though he didn’t breathe; the illusion was quite masterful. “But these are things you learn in time, with every foe you face.”
His broadsword cleared its sheathe. He lifted it as if it weighed no more than a feather.
“Sometimes, you learn too late.” With no further hesitation, he came at her, fast and swinging.
“Like when I twist this blade in your heart!” He lunged at her, almost knocking the parrying blade from her grip. He kept her backing away, and off balance, not allowing her to establish a rhythm of her own, or set up a counter.
She’d relied too much on the blade’s power, but didn’t know if they’d been able to counter it.
Speed was her only ally. His swings were wide and powerful, and if he connected, or knocked Soul Reaver from her hand, she was dead. As she struggled to find a way to sidestep him and get inside, she noticed the lights around the hands of the mages intensifying.
Their hands were raised toward the battle, and their eyes were closed in serene concentration, confident in Irhan’s ability to defeat the child.
Several thoughts flashed through her mind: they were countering her sword’s magic, or feeding him energy, or weakening her, or all three. Her arms were already beginning to tire, and her breathing was growing jagged. She trained hard, and knew that shouldn’t be this early in the fight.
With nothing to lose she made a desperate choice, ran toward the cluster of men.
Caught off guard, before he realized what she was going to do, the Archmage stood there as she closed the distance and severed the right hand off the nearest mage to them.
Blood spurted, and his scream of pain rent the air.
The lights around all their hands went out, and whatever link there’d been was severed too as the hand fell, twitching on the ground.
She ran back to the Archmage, and engaged him anew.
Her strikes proved too fast with his connection broken, and lifting the sword in his own strength became a task he wasn’t up for, backpedaling until he was against the wall of the house.
As the mages crashed from the broken link, they began to run toward her to physically kill her.
The point of Soul Reaver made the skin on the Archmage’s neck pucker.
“It’s a good thing I’m not as ancient as you; you see, there’s a place for impetuosity.”
He shuddered and thrashed as the sword pierced his throat, and his human form began to recede as he tried to escape.
The wave of mages cresting toward her crashed and collapsed inside their robes, piles of bone burning like embers, quickly crumbling to ash.
Aleina was overcome by how close she’d come to dying, and fell to her knees beside the dead demon.
Holding onto the pommel of the sword, she lifted her eyes as dim scarlet light emanated from the blade, and the blood she’d drawn seeped into it.
Did I imagine that? So tired…
Jullandro was there beside her, his hand on her shoulder, which he snatched away when she looked up.
“What’s wrong, Jullandro?” Her eyes felt hot, but not from tears. She used Soul Reaver’s pommel for support as she moved to stand.
“Come, let’s get inside.” He helped her to her feet, and kept his arm around her shoulder, taking the weight as she hobbled, weakened from the draining pace of the fight and the magic they used to attack her.
Reaching the house, he guided her to the looking glass. “Steady, now…”
Spots of blood dotted her flesh, and her hair drooped damp and lanky over her forehead, but her eyes were alight with a dull scarlet glow.
“What…?”
“I’m not sure, Aleina, but I think you’ve just become the Archmage.”
The sword fell from her grip, but her eyes were still shining.
    The sword…I didn’t know. The air around them grew charged with power.
All Jullandro could do was hold her as she turned from the mirror and cried.

 

 

Midnight Son (3) Seeking Answers

by smithaw50, posted in Uncategorized

Among the upper shelves, the library had a chilly draft from a vent somewhere; it helped preserve the older works, though given the right conditions they’d also turn to kindling.
It was after midnight when I found the book; it had a plain, black leather binding with no lettering on it that I could see. I couldn’t open it, but the vibrations of dark energy it sent through me made me eager to be rid of it.
Fortunately, it wasn’t large and unwieldy. I managed to carry it down the ladder and keep my balance. Seleme lit lanterns instead of candles to prevent any accidents from sparks, and took them to the large table.
She looked hopefully at the book in my hand and stood beside me eagerly as I spoke the spell that opened it. She gave it her best effort, but her eating had burdened her and made her sleepy. Her head rested against my arm, so I moved it gently when I had to turn the pages.
I woke her with a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Get up, little girl. Your big head is hurting my arm.”
She smiled up at me, and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ingrum.”
“It’s all right. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
The blood smell on her clothes was less than before, but still strong.
“Bathe, Semele.”
“I will,” she said, not turning around.
   She’ll have nightmares. She always does after a kill. The victims scream at her, and tonight it will be Cassis.
I moved her lantern to the other side of me, to illuminate the book better, but the angle wasn’t good, so I blew it out and kept the one.
The remaining light seemed more intimate, and helped me focus.
In a few minutes Seleme came back with a goblet and tray and put them on the table.
“For your troubles.”
“Thank you. Now bathe and go to bed.”
She kissed my cheek. “All right, grumpy. You’re welcome. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Before she walked out, she turned back again. “Ingrum?”
I sighed. “Yes?”
“Bury Cassis. We shouldn’t leave him like that. It’ll be worse for me if you don’t, and he’ll grant me no sleep at all. They scream at me, Ingrum. Why do they scream?”
I sighed again, but different this time. She sounded so lost.
“I don’t know. I’ll see to Cassis, don’t worry.”
“Thank you.”

******************
Between my sipping and snacking, the light of false dawn brightened the window a few shades when I finally found what I needed, and of course, it wasn’t good news.
The beast thing that infected my sister was a ghoul. Not as mindless as zombies, but equally terrible in their cravings. Semele was of the vampiric variety, craving blood, but also flesh.
Semele wanted me to kill her, or break the curse.
To break the curse, I had to find the one who cursed her.
To find her, we’d have to leave home.
The light in the remaining lantern sputtered out for lack of oil.
I closed the book, found myself in the window, goblet in hand, staring at the brightening sky, ruminating on the possibilities of where such a band could have gone in ten years, and I had to consider Semele.
It would be faster if I didn’t take her, but there was no telling what would become of her if I didn’t.
I’d let her sleep, but not too long.
Every minute we delayed would mean a longer hunt for our quarry, and I’d grown impatient with a restless anger; seeing my sister helpless and disgusted with what she was now kindled in me a desire for revenge.
I emptied the goblet, and calmed myself.
All I have is time.
A sad, bitter laugh came out of me, echoing in the high ceiling as I left the goblet on the windowsill, and went to put Cassis in the ground.

Come Play

by smithaw50, posted in Uncategorized

I decided to run from my parents that day, wanting to explore the mist inside the forest, tendrils hovering over the leaves and branches, like arms waiting to catch something.

I bolted.

My mother gasped, and called my name.

My father cursed and gave chase, so I went into the underbrush where he would stumble and thrash.

The thorns and branches snagged my clothes and nicked my skin with small cuts, but I ignored the pain.

The mist came slowly down to shroud me, concealing me from my father’s sight.

He called, and threatened, but his voice held a note of desperation and fear. A pang of guilt interrupted my guilty pleasure, and I started back.

It was after some moments that though I heard his voice, I couldn’t tell what direction it came from.

I was now as lost as he, and when I went to call him, the mist muffled my voice. It came back to me as if I’d put my hands over my ears; it was dull and flat, lacking resonance, little more than a croak.

I kept calling, my own voice giving rise to my own fear.

“Hush, boy. Come play.”

I whirled to see who’d come so silently behind me.

A girl, leached of all color, but pretty all the same, was looking at me with a pleased fascination, as if she’d found something shiny and new.

“Where am I? Can you take me to my dad?”

She giggled. “You’re in the mist, silly. There’s no returning from it.”

“What do you mean? That’s stupid. I know this forest–” I turned, looking into it, but there was nothing to see but grey-white vapor, slowly roiling through the air.

“Then find your own way, boy. But if you like, you can come play.”

“Play? Play where? Play what? Why do you have no colors at all?”

She laughed again. “So many questions…”

I grew angry. “Take me back.”

She grew serious. “There is no going back. Can you hear?”

“I heard you just fine, but I don’t believe you.” I didn’t hear my dad calling anymore, but I could hear my mother crying.

I smothered my anger. “Please, you have to take me back. They’re worried.”

“You were the one who ran away.”

“I was only joking with them; I didn’t know all…this …would happen.”

“But now it has, boy. And there is no going back. Come play.”

“Stop saying that!”

She stared at me in patient silence; I turned and stared some more into the forest.

The mist grew thicker, and soon the sound of my mother’s crying was gone too.

When I turned back, she was standing closer. “Come play.”

I tried to hit her with everything I had, to knock her flat. To knock her out.

But my hand ended up holding hers, and I saw the color begin to fade, no sign of blood or pigment.

I felt my veins harden, my heart slow to almost nothing, and it seemed that the mist slipped into my nostrils when I remembered to breathe again.

I heard the sound of children singing a rhyming song.

There was laughter, and music, and all hue was drained from me as she smiled, looking at me with those shadowy, beautiful, colorless eyes.

“Come play.” She caressed my face with her pale, bloodless hand.

“Let’s go,” I said, following her through the mist we breathed, the sound of children’s laughter echoing in my ears.

 

Trial by Combat

by smithaw50, posted in Uncategorized

He sat on that enormous throne, cloaked in inky shadows, gazing down at me with eyes full of starlight, silver-white, penetrating much more than darkness.

I couldn’t stop trembling under that patient, terrible gaze.

“Do you know why I summoned you?” His deep voice reverberated in the high ceiling and bounced of the stone walls surrounding us.

“N-n-no.” I wanted to say more, to protest, but I was shaking so much I didn’t want to risk stammering too. I put the tip of my tongue on the roof of my mouth and swallowed what I wanted to say.

“They told me that you wish to leave. Is that true?”

The lie was on my tongue, but not before the blush was on my cheek.

I said nothing.

He leaned forward, terrible visage close to me, putrid and scarred, and th oozing  a pungent liquid that had ribbons of blood laced through it.

“Have I not been a good master?”

“No master of another man, no matter how beneficent, is good.”

He raised a brow, and let out a wheezing laugh.

“I’ve always admired you for not going down without a fight. But rest assured, Laras, you are well on the way down.”

“I’ve heard enough,” I said, straightening despite the pain in my back, enduring the pain of the whip scars that broke open and wept, hissing as it trailed across my skin.

Venom.

“It wasn’t enough I called you ‘king,’ but you wanted ‘master’ as well. I can’t give you that.”

The pain brought me to my knees, in spite of my will. “I won’t give you that.”

I passed out.

****************

Perfumed ministrations roused me, and the sound of muted flutes.

He left me alive.

Someone was watching me, coming into focus, thinly clad, with large eyes that observed me with a blend of curiosity and the desire to kill.

“Your Highness?”

“Nailah, to you.”

She pulled me up by the thick braid I wore, and I braced for the pain, but there was none.

“I begged him for your traitorous life, Fihr. And because he refuses me nothing, he granted it.”

She wrapped my braid around her fist, and kissed me hard.

I tried to break it, but she grabbed me and held harder.

I gave in, and against my better judgment, kissed her back; her moan of triumph led to other things, and my first waking hours were occupied for a time.

*****************

They came for me in the morning, not bothering to knock, startling the princess as they plucked me from her bed like a feather, struck me to the floor, stomped me into it, and carried me out to the barracks.

A test, and I failed.

The day was full of rigorous training, and I was the target; fighting to the point of numbness, I prevailed over most of them, not having been trained in their way. I drew more blood than I spilled, which angered them more.

The sun was westering when I cried out; “How much more do you need from me?”

Call me ‘master.’ Say it, and know peace once again.

Every part of me hurt, every heartbeat an effort, every breath a trip uphill with a large stone to keep in front of me. He wanted it at every cost, and it would cost me nothing.

And everything.

I shook my head.

They began shouting curses at me now, but with a glimmer of grudging admiration in their eyes; nevertheless, they would redouble their efforts to break me now, before sunset.

I was fighting on instinct and adrenaline now, and soon there would be nothing left.

I was bleeding, and never felt the cuts, pummeled, and never felt the blows, but I remained standing, shaking on legs that wanted nothing more than to kneel, the word ‘master’ thick on my tongue like sour ale mixed with blood, and maybe a tooth or two.

I spat, and with that, my wavering ended.

I would rather die.

The sun was a red rind on the horizon when the last form broke from the ranks, moving unlike any of the others.

She was thinly clad, but well armed, and moved like a hunting cat in her prime.

I’d made love to her repeatedly only hours before. “Nailah…”

She was crying now, tears glimmering in the crepuscular gloom.

She took her stance. “Yield, Fihr; don’t be a fool. Yield now, and come back to bed. Say the word.”

Say the word, and be the most favored among them all.

Say the word, and know the comfort of a woman’s sheathe. I will let her have you, and give you men to fight your battles, and women to do your bidding. She is but the jewel in the crown I offer you.

“YIELD!” she screamed.

I saw the soldiers around us gaping in disbelief at my hesitation, saw the silver -white stars begin dotting the cobalt sky. Those eyes from the throne…

I heard the wind soughing among the trees.

Saw the last of the red sun’s rays reflected in the water on her cheeks, making them look bloody.

The memory of her scent, her arms, her kiss, and the things she did with her lips and hands flooded back into my mind.

It was so simple to say, and no one would know.

“Yield, please.” She sobbed this time, not wanting to kill me.

He was behind it, I knew, as surely as I knew my name.

“Yield.” Her voice was lowering with resignation as I hesitated.

Drop the sword, and all is forgiven…

“Yield, my darling. Please.”

My own tears hot against my cheeks, I shook my head, and took my final stance.

Her cry of rage at my rejection tore my heart, and with all the last- stand vengeance of the defeated firing her eyes with hate, she charged.

 

 

 

A Choice of Poisons

by smithaw50, posted in Uncategorized

They came in vast numbers to slaughter what remained of us.
For too long we harried them on every front, and every time they stepped on our necks, we seemed to grow new heads: here, a smashing of their flank as we split to take the vanguard and the rear; there, an explosion that killed them by the hundreds.
We were as children splashing away at the tide.
It all served to stir them to a frothing, raving mass of bloodthirsty vengeance seekers; they were as relentless in their desire to kill us as we were to survive.
In time, they resorted to other means: a dark magic where venom and blood combined to make them practically invincible.
The problem was they had the venom, and we had the blood. They plundered it from us and stored it for themselves, until their magicians could sustain its combined power and keep it from fading. They worked at it day and night.
From my high vantage inside the fortress, I could see the serpent army, the Ormarr, as we called them, spread out across the fields below, their bodies glowing with a faint, eldritch light.
The sword at my side brought no comfort, but there was another way.
“Stand aside,” I told the gatekeeper.
“Are you daft, boy? You want us to open the gates and throw flowers in their path?”
I looked at General Sarris, his craggy face mapped with scars and an old black eye patch over his left socket, a testimony to his many fierce and bloody campaigns.
“No, General. That was not my request. I said, ‘Stand aside.’
Seeing my calm demeanor, he considered me. In the silence between us I could hear the faint clank of weapons as men shifted, the crackling sizzle of nearby torches, and the dull murmurs of the dull creatures below us, bobbing and rocking like lanterns on a ship.
“I’m all that stands between these men and death,” I said. “The longer you wait, the stronger they grow.”
“Ator, have you forgotten your first night here?”
“I remember all too well, Sarris.”
****************
The camp fires were dying, and little by little the sounds of snores and released gas joined the night creatures’ cacophony, drowning out the small, crackling flames.
    A seasoned soldier eyed me openly, not challenging, merely assessing.
   “Do I pass your examination, sir?”
   He chortled, and came toward me, hands out. “Not looking to fight, boy, just want to give you some advice.”
   I nodded, but kept him in view.
   “When you’re out here, boy, waiting for demons to fight, no one in the rich towns cares that you don’t sleep at all, as long as they sleep through the night.
   “They don’t care that you can’t comfort your daughter after a nightmare, as long as they don’t have to face the living ones they created.
   “They don’t care if you have to die, as long as they get to live. You remember that, boy, and you’ll be all right out here.”
*******************
“You shouldn’t fight them alone,” Sarris said.
“I’m the only one who can take the venom.”
“You’re immune to the venom, true; not to being torn apart.
“I’ll be all right.”
“Well that much is true, boy, because you’re not going out there.”
I sighed, looked back out at the animated field of unnatural blasphemy, and again entreated them.
“Stand aside.”

Illusions of Childhood

by smithaw50, posted in Uncategorized

I kissed Melinda good night after the bedtime story, and closed the door.
On my way to my own room, I heard her talking. I thought she was talking to herself, but she wasn’t.
I ran back when I heard her cry out. Not a scream exactly, but the sound wasn’t pleasant.
The door was locked; she never did that.
I went to smash it down when the lock clicked, and it opened. I wanted to rush in, but it was quiet now. Perhaps she had a nightmare, but I’d only just finished the story. She couldn’t have gone to sleep that fast.
Her nightlight was on the opposite wall by the door, not by her bedside where it would disturb her sleep.
When I entered the room, I could see eyes glowing in the dark, the green of early spring leaves.
“That was a nice story.” It spoke with Melinda’s voice, but there was a deeper tone that raised the hair on my neck and arms. Fear began to close me in a fist, but I couldn’t afford to let it.
“Who are you?”
It laughed my daughter’s laugh.
“I’m the fairy in the book.”
“What? Look, I don’t know what’s going on…”
It tilted my daughter’s head, regarding me sideways. “You don’t?”
I shook my head, forgetting it was dark, but apparently whatever it was could see.
“She called me.”
“What?”
It sighed the way she sighed when Melinda grew impatient with me.
“When you were reading, she wished she was a fairy. I answered her wish.”
“All girls wish they were fairies and princesses; nothing happens when the book ends.”
It laughed. “Especially where they live happily ever after. You know about that, don’t you?”
I said nothing.
It sat up, and I stepped back, cursing myself as I did, speaking to cover up the fact that I’d flinched.
“Why don’t you leave her alone? She’s just a kid.”
“No, she isn’t.” It turned on the light. The thing in the bed was not my daughter, though it was her size. “She never was.”
“Look, I—“
“Shhh.” It put its fingers to her lips, and I couldn’t speak.
“She is a portal, father. That’s why her mother died; she was the gateway, but Melinda is the key. “Allow me to explain. We ruled these lands before the Age of Men, and we waited and watched, made ourselves no threat to you because we saw the destruction you cause. That it’s of your own choosing means you’re incapable of helping yourselves, so you’re unfit to keep it.”
“You can’t have it back; we’ll fight.”
It laughed again. “You can fight other men. Not this.”
“And what is this?”
“A comeback, of sorts. Portals have been placed throughout the world. Girls and boys.”
“What are you planning to do?”
It smiled. “In time, father. In time.”
“And Melinda?”
“Her name is Shaylee. And as you know, I’m Alysia.”
In the book, fairy names were linked to abilities, locations, and powers; that might prove to be the key to breaking the hold.
“What happens to these children, Alysia? What are you going to do with my child?”
“We use them to make things happen. Things that further our ends.”
“Like what?”
It smiled again, shaking a finger at me.
I straightened as best I could. “Stop with the riddles, and let go of my daughter.”
“She’s not your daughter, but my time here is at an end. I’ll return her illusion to you.”
The glow faded, and Melinda sat there, catatonic at first.
I ran to her, put my arms around her, and she snapped out of it.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, princess. You’re all right.”
“I had a bad dream. Something kept looking at me. It had scary eyes.” She was trembling with fear, and me with suppressed anger at myself for being afraid too.
“Daddy’s here. I’ll stay here with you until you go back to sleep, okay?”
“Okay.” Her voice was muffled by my arms. I let her go, tucked her back in and kissed her cheek again.
“I’ll be right here.” I patted her knee, and left my hand there to anchor both of us back in reality.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, Melinda.”
“Could you read me another story?”
…the illusion of her…