Author's note:
Reccomend changing formatting (the button on the top right) so there are spaces between lines.
What is death? Is it waking up at the gates to heaven or some other holy ground? Is it a long and dark hallway or a field of burning wheat? Could it be that Hell itself is a void; or maybe the edge of something, but never the full grasp of it? Is it the dead’s worst fear or greatest pleasure—or is it something else? Something completely different? Something similar, but not quite?
What is death?
As I pondered this, the world faded out into blackness, and then further into nothingness, all of my other senses fading with it. In my last moments I was wondering something so pointless… looking back it makes me cringe.
Then, a curious thing happened.
The world faded back in—first to blackness, then to pure white.
The first thing I felt after this was the cold. The biting, piercing cold.
The second were the tears.
Chilly Ventures was in his element, pardoning the pun. He’d always wanted to visit the far-north. Ever since he was a colt, he’d dreamt of the day when he’d finally let his boots sink into the soft, cotton-like fluff of the tundra.
“What do you think?” He asked, shaking his hood off to take a panoramic view of the horizon, revealing his pristine white complexion and dazzling smile.
He heard a gasp behind him. A form dropped a bag—said bag sinking into the snow like a warm knife through butter—and fell to the ground itself.
“What are we doing, Chilly? There’s nothing here!” The voice was feminine in nature, but exasperated in intonation.
“That’s the beauty of it!” Chilly exclaimed, turning around to take the other form’s forelimb. “We’re alone—completely and utterly alone! Nothing else, no one else. Just us.” He pulled the other form closer, her hood falling from its perch on her head, revealing a soft, pink face and a miserable expression.
“When can we head back?” she asked, pulling her hood back up onto her head and tightening the hood’s grip with some unseen force.
“When our trek is done,” he told her simply, beginning again in the same direction.
She groaned, the bag lifting itself into the air and resting on her back. She followed him.
The third sensation I felt was something hard poking me. I whipped my head around, the tears flying from my face as I prepared for a fight.
“Are you alright, sir?” was the first thing she asked of me. “You weren’t moving, so I didn’t know if you were alive or not.” She looked me up and down, noting my sudden activeness. “Although, you seem very lively now.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, still ready for her to make any sudden movements.
None were made. It seemed this was a peaceful one—or she didn’t know who I was.
“So, what are you, anyway? I mean, you look like a Minotaur, but you don’t have any hair on your torso,” she asked, walking around me to examine my features. “Could it be that we’ve made a discovery?”
I cut her off from asking more questions. “I’m a human. Minotaurs are half-human, half-bull. Creatures from mythology, not reality,” I said robotically as she came full circle. Only once I finished speaking did I realize how dumb that must have sounded in a land such as this. “Of course, horses can talk in this world, so who knows? Maybe manticores are real, too.” As I mumbled this to myself, she raised a hoof to her chin.
“Yes, manticores are quite vicious beasts.” Apparently that was all she heard. “Anyway, we must get this information to the public!”
Just as she said that a shout came from over a snowdrift. “Fauna, where are you?” I tensed, but she didn’t seem to notice as she turned to the sound.
“Over here, Chilly!” she shouted back. “I swear, he couldn’t keep track of a quill, let alone his partner,” she scoffs.
Chilly broke the surface of the drift and came into view, spotting Flaura and waving at her. As his eyes drifted to me, which they quickly did, he stopped waving.
“Who’s this you’ve found, Fauna? A new species for your book?” The suspicion in his voice was fairly obvious—and if it wasn’t, the look in his eye was more than enough. I knew I had to leave.
“You two are here on a research trip?” I asked, thinking quickly. “Looking for new plants and animals and such?”
“How astute of you. Yes, we are,” Fauna commented, but quickly rolled her eyes. “Chilly is just here for the snow, though.”
“For the adventure my dear!” he corrects her. “I love the snow, but I would have just as happily gone to the Amarezon with you!”
“Why didn’t you mention that when we were planning the trip?” Fauna exclaimed, suddenly very surprised.
As their banter continued, I took steps away. I was almost to a snow bank I could hide behind when Chilly noticed me.
“Now, where do you think you’re off to?” He took a few steps towards me, watching my every move with additional scrutiny.
“Oh… just to take a quick leak. When nature calls and all,” I said, taking another step away.
Chilly took another step, then whispered something to Fauna. Her face looked slightly surprised, and when she tried to respond he gave her a quick look.
“You won’t run off, will you?” he asked as Fauna disappeared over another drift.
“Why would I do that?” I asked back, looking around for potential weapons or places to hide.
“I’m not sure, but I don’t really want to find out.” He stood his ground. “You know, I do remember something about a biped that wasn’t a Minotaur. They say that he terrorized the land.” I knew I needed to leave, but Chilly would see me. I had no choice.
‘No! You can’t!’ he said.
‘This isn’t something you can talk yourself out of, you know.’ I took another step back, which the other matched twofold.
‘Well, you’d better find another solution quick.’ I made to step forward, but he quickly locked my muscles. When I returned to my retreat, my muscles relaxed.
“One day, he magically disappeared with a whole nation.” To this comment I froze, the events of mere hours ago replaying in my head. I shook myself out of the daze.
“Listen, I don’t want to hurt you.” I took another step to the drift, my heels sinking into the thicker snow.
“And you won’t,” he said simply. It confused me how something so obviously weak could be unafraid of something as dangerous as he thought I was.
My questions were answered as two beings flew over my head, landing between me and Chilly.
They were the last things I wanted to see at the time.
Author's Note
Another rewrite, I know--but this is my last one, I swear!
Tune in next time to learn who these beings are and why Chilly's so fearless towards our hero!
Piece of the Past: Festivals, Fights, and Fanfair
Author's Note
All music lyrics belong to their respective artists.
Mashup credit goes to Jonathan Fry (or wherever he got it if that's the case. I'm not really sure).
If you want to listen to him play it:
Piece of the Past: Festivals, Fights, and Fanfair
The park was full to bursting with people at every stall and performers expertly performing. As I watched it all I wondered what it was like to throw a bunch of knives in the air or shoot fire from my mouth.
As I wondered this, I stood, back against my little motorbike, idly strumming a guitar. I wasn’t nervous—on the outside, anyway. I mean, the only reason I was even here-
“Are you ready, dear?” she asked, scattering my thoughts while she leaned over to adjust my tie. The way she looked up at me afterwards was the last straw. The last… adorable straw. And she knew it.
“Of course!” I said, plucking out a quick riff as I stood up, the coattails of my suit jacket falling off the seat of my bike.
“Good.” She turned around and started skipping through the crowd, me on her heels.
She started to hum, cueing me up. I also began. There were no words, and the tune sounded old—very old—but, of course, that was the point. For, we were in the land of our elders: Victorian London.
Actually, it was just a small town on the outskirts of London, and we were the musical entertainment. One of several going around the park and playing music.
Now, the list that was given to us was rather flat. Boring…. Easy. Or so says she. So, being the person she is—and the girl I love—she made slight alterations.
While still skipping about, she stopped humming and I plugged in my mini-amp.
The chords were easy to play, and it garnered attention quickly. I took this as a signal to really begin.
“Well, I woke up to the sound of silence and cries were cutting like knives in a fist fight.” I’d strum while I sang, playing the song I knew all too well. “And I found you with a bottle of wine, your head in the curtains, and your heart like the Fourth of July.” A quick riff and some faster strumming. “You swore and said-”
I started strumming a different chord while she cut me off. The comedic value was the look I was giving everyone—slight offense and great confusion—even though I was playing for her.
“I’m gonna pop some tags, only got twenty dollars in my pocket!” she burst out, skipping around the small clearing the people had gathered around to watch. “This is… awesome!”
In her euphoria, I started playing a different tune again, giving her a look that was both challenging and happy while she wore a similar façade as I’d had earlier.
“On a hill ‘cross the blue lake! That’s where I had my first heart ache, yeah! I was so young I could barely say! My father said-” I quickly switched again, allowing her to sing her part.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m feelin’ twenty two! Everything will be alright, you keep me next to you! You don’t know about me, but you want to!” she was dancing circles around me as I played and I gave a look of contempt. “Everything will be alright!” She stopped in front of me and broke out in a little jig. “You just keep dancing like your twenty two—Oh, oh! Twenty two—oh, oh, oh!” I snapped her out of her jig, sending her stumbling backward with a quick change and a fierce look. I started chanting some language that I really didn’t understand.
“Areumdawo sarangseureowo; geurae neo, hey, geurae baro neo, hey. Areumdawo sarangseureowo; geurae neo, hey, geurae baro neo, hey. Jigeumbuteo gal dekkaji gabolkka!” I pause for a moment before bursting out with “Oppa Gangnam Style!” and starting my own little jig. Left, left, right, left, right, right, left, right—and repeat. Once the jig is done, I freeze in place and look directly at her. She was watching me the whole time, amusement plastered on her face, but, when I made eye contact, she seemed startled.
“Hey… sexy lady!” I shouted at her, strumming a new tune afterward.
“I wanna scream, and shout, and let it all out—and scream, and shout, and let it out.” She was moving towards me again, both our faces showing triumph over the other. “Sayin’ oh-e-oh-eoh-eoh.”
We jumped in the air, stomping on the ground loud enough to startle those in our immediate proximity.
I took a deep breath. “You are now, now rockin’ with Nicholas and-”
“Mary, bitch!”
And the crowd went wild.
The time went by faster than I thought it would. I mean, I always enjoyed playing, but she made it even better—I was expecting my anxiety to shoot through the roof before the first set was over! But, now that we’d played for a while, I returned the guitar and mini-amp to the music supervisor. Thomas was a nice enough guy and he knew that we’d want some time to rest.
“Have a good time, you two!” he jeered at us as we left the stand.
“Better than you!” I shouted back, Mary sticking her tongue out at him.
“Just ignore him,” we both heard from the left.
Turning to look, I saw a man who would easily pass for Sherlock Holms. The hunting cap and pipe, on top of the overcoat, seemed to just scream “Mystery!”
“He means well, but can be a little… playful at times,” the man continued.
“Thanks for the advice.” I smirked. “Nicholas Tesla, and who might you be?” I introduced my persona while holding a hand out to him.
“Dr. Joseph Bell.” When we only returned looks of confusion, he continued. “The real man Sherlock Holms was based off of. The hat and pipe are simply for show.” We both made general sounds of understanding and nodded our heads.
“What might your part be in the grand gathering?” I asked. “We were the musical entertainment.” There was a hint of pride in my voice, which did not go unnoticed by Mary or the good doctor.
“Well, other than simply enjoying the arrangement, I am its host.” There was also a hint of pride in his voice.
“Wait, you’re-” Mary started, gripping my arm rather tightly.
“The one-and-only, my dear!” There was a silent understanding between the two of them, which apparently went over my head completely. Mary soon took notice of my ignorance. “Possibly the greatest historian of our time, the incredible Dr. Henry Williams!” She made jazz hands at him, glorifying the statement further.
After a short silence and her continued jazz hands, I simply shook my head. “Nope, no bells a-ringin’.” I stated, crossing my arms with a slightly apologetic look.
“Oh, it’s quite alright! Not everyone can be savvy in the ways of archeology!” He chuckled. “In fact, I’m surprised you’ve heard of me, Mistress….” He trailed off, asking for her hand with his own.
When she offered it, he leaned down and kissed the back of her palm. Her face flushed a little and she brought her other hand to her chest.
I rolled my eyes to all of this.
“Alright, I hope you two have a wonderful time at my little soirée.” He smiled as he turned and walked away, greeting other visitors similarly.
“That… was… amazing!” she screamed in my ear, nearly tackling me in a hug.
“I bet it was, dear. Now let’s go play some games. Which do you think first? We could throw darts, or maybe bobbing for apples!” I pointed out some others in sight.
“How about… that one!” I looked over, seeing a stand labeled “swordplay.”
I knew that she had taken fencing lessons a couple months back, but seeing the men fight with short swords was… brutal.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “There are so many more games here—safer ones, too!”
“No, I want to teste my mettle.” She seemed determined as she approached the stand.
I sighed and followed.
“Bets, bets! Taking bets, here!” the proctor of the fight announced. “Louie the Lasher or Cam the Crusher! Place all your bets!”
“I’d like to fight!” All eyes turned to us. It was the second time that day we’d attracted attention, and this time was not to my liking.
“Little lady,” he said, looking down on her four-foot-five stature. “What do you mean ‘fight?’”
“In the ring. With Louie or Cam.” Both men laughed at this, but the proctor seemed concerned as she walked over to the sword display, picking out a nice, light rapier.
“Sir, is your lady touched in the head?” he whispered to me, making sure Mary couldn’t hear.
“She’s perfectly sane, I assure you.” I sighed and massaged my temples as she nearly stumbled just from swinging the weapon that weighed nearly a kilogram.
She jumped in the ring, motioning for one of them to step forward. Cam did, swinging his sword in circles and placing it on his shoulder. “I’ll go easy on you.” Looking Cam over, his right arm was heavily protected while his left had a gauntlet-like shield. Mary took a quick look over her opponent before responding.
“I won’t.” She sprinted forward with astonishing speed, surprising Cam, who brought his sword to bear regardless.
Sparks flew and, when the dust had settled, so to speak, no damage had been taken on either side.
“Wait for it!” she chirped, standing up and sheathing her weapon. As she did, a piston on his armored arm seemed to spew steam.
He was surprised, but—due to the rules of roleplay—he let his arm fall limp.
“How did you-” he began, but he didn’t have time to respond.
“First rule of fighting ironmen,” she said with a little flair of her hair. “Strike for the power source.”
Louie, seeing his comrade disabled, attempted a sneak attack from behind. Although, it wasn’t much of a “sneak” attack as he probably meant it. The man yelled, sword raised over his head, rushing Mary.
Mary smirked.
With a swift move to the left, sticking her foot out, she tripped him, sending him tumbling into his comrade, who somehow managed to remain standing. The two were thoroughly angered, now, brandishing their swords to the little lady.
“Come and get it, boys!” she jeered, putting an empty hand up and bending her fingers up.
They charged, both of them, and swung their swords in sync. One went low, the other high; and they meant to kill.
Mary fell to a crouch, parrying the lower with a swift flick. Louie, who’d struck high, overcompensated. Using his momentum, Mary made them tumble onto each other.
While the two scrambled to untangle themselves from each other, Mary turned to the crowd and curtsied.
At this point, the proctor decided he’d spare his fighters any more shame.
“Let’s give our little lady a round of applause!” he called to the crowd, who gave a soft ovation. “Now, once our fighters rest, we’ll get back to the fight! Sadly, we must ask the little lady to leave the stage.” A couple of people looked slightly disappointed and left, but some stayed, waiting for the actual fight they’d come to see.
“Mary, you’re insane.” I took her hand, helping her off of the raised platform.
“Yeah, but that’s what you love about me,” she said, standing on her toes to kiss my cheek.
A light blush came across my face as some of the audience jeered. I heard faint comments of “wearing pants” and “dominance” as we left the area.
“Shame you didn’t fight with me,” she commented when we were out of earshot. “We could’ve totally crushed those two!”
“You, alone, crushed them.” And it was true. If she’d kept fighting, they’d be stripped to their underclothing by now.
“Yeah, I guess I did!” She seemed proud, for some reason. Those guys were probably used to choreographed fights, not real battle.
“We're all victims of our own hubris, at times,” I said under my breath.
“Sometimes it's the crazy people who turn out to be not so crazy,” she replied. “You know, if you’re going to quote eighties actors, you should choose them more carefully.”
I rolled my eyes. Perhaps Spacey wasn’t the best choice, after all.
“Now, I’m hungry! Get me food!” She pushed me towards a funnel cake stand, making me stumble a little.
“Alright, alright; but no sweets until after lunch.” I changed course towards a grill stand, buying a hot dog and a cheeseburger.
She seemed delighted to eat her hotdog… and my cheeseburger. Either way, she was satisfied, so I was satisfied. I wasn’t all that hungry to begin with, anyway.
“So, what next, my dear?” I asked, offering my arm, which she daintily took.
“Wherever the fates take us.” She smirked, pulling me close.
“Even if it’s to the depths of hell?” The smirk grew to a soft smile.
“As long as I’m with you….”
Shame we couldn’t be together longer.
Piece of the Past: Plays and Dragons
It’s a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming…
My girlfriend had beaten two grown men in a dual… at the same time.
We’d eaten and started wandering about the festival. Vendors called to us, trying to garner attention and coin; event hosts announced shows and show times; the dull hum of the crowd filled in the space between.
We ignored it all.
“So, what now?” she looked to me for direction. “We’ve worked our trade, fought warriors of the age, and eaten a hearty meal! What else is there to do in such a land?” She sighed wistfully.
“Well, it’s getting late. We could watch one of the late-night shows, or maybe play a game?” it was more a question than a suggestion, but she never liked suggestions. If she felt you were telling her what to do, she’d do the opposite—and I never liked giving commands, anyway.
“Hmm… a game sounds fun. What fun can we have, my dear Nicholas?” She took the posture of a Victorian gentlewoman, her accent showing through more than ever.
“Well, we have here the ring toss!” I said, my accent also growing in poshness. “Toss a small, wooden circlet towards wooden pegs! Catch one at just the right angle, and you just might win the game!”
Mary watched a couple toss five rings, not one landing where they wanted.
“Nah, that one seems more luck than skill.” She walked on.
“Well, we’ve always got more for her ladyship.” I walked with her, pointing out other games and attractions as we went.
After a while, she paused and sighed. “Hey, I’m just not feeling any of these cheap carnival games. Let’s try to find a good show.”
I remembered something a friend told me when I mentioned the festival to him.
“Oh, you have to see the dragon fight! It’s spectacular!”
I decided I’d mention this to Mary.
“I heard there’s a dragon fight somewhere around here.” I watched as her eyes lit up with excitement.
“Oh! Who wins? The warriors or the dragon? I wouldn’t mind watching a bunch of losers get eaten.” A particularly manic look came over her face.
I chuckled, patting her head and snapping her out of her psychotic snickering. “We’ll just have to watch and find out.”
A few minutes later we were sitting in a grand auditorium, waiting for the lights in the audience to dim and the limelight to brighten onstage.
“Oh, I just can’t wait!” Mary whispered to herself.
“Please take your seats and get ready for a fairytale!” came the announcer’s voice from the overhead speakers. “The show will start in five minutes.” A click sounded as the intercom system turned off.
“Did you hear that? Five minutes!” Mary nearly shouted, a couple people turning around to look at the commotion she was causing.
“Mary, calm down.” I patted her back, rubbing a little as her eyes shot to me.
“Calm? How could I be calm? A dragon’s about to appear!” She was just as excited as before and almost louder.
I decided to quit while I was ahead.
Just then, the lights dimmed and the stage went black—seemed they were starting slightly early. A single spot light switched on moments later, illuminating a single man, a microphone stood on a stand before him. He had the dress of a medieval bard and a lute, playing a soft tune.
“Many years ago, in the land of our fathers,” he said, bringing his head up to look over the crowd.
“The queen bared child, two lovely daughters.” A smile graced his face, stepping to the left.
“One went to the dresser, the other to the courtyard;” he spoke with a soft and kind tone.
“One learned of grace, the other yelled ‘en garde.’” With a swift jab of his lute, he punctuated his statement.
“War broke out, the kingdom in shambles.” He grew somber as he said this, moving to the right.
“The first daughter caught, the second one fought.” The seriousness of the situation became evident by his tone and play.
“But two daughters lost, the king couldn’t handle.” He seemed to fall into despair before us on the stage.
“Months passed with no news.” He began pacing, losing all despair for determination.
“The war was won, the nation fixed.” A twinge of happiness crossed his face as he said this, but was swiftly lost.
“But, though the sky shone many hues,” he said, bringing his lute to the sky in a rainbow fashion.
“The king’s emotions were very mixed.” Now conflicted, he looked to the aside, and took an aside.
“Newfound hope, though, was just on the horizon!” He strummed a happy tune, one of success.
“But the messenger’s phone ran on Verizon.” He made a silly face and a phone gesture, making the crowd bust out with laughter.
“When the news arrived, the king was elated!” He jumped around, dancing happily.
“The rescue party would not be belated!” The bard seemed to be wrapping up at this, walking back to center stage.
“This is the story of skill, courage and might; listen close, children, for the princess, the dragon and the knight.”
The bard took a short, quick bow before exiting stage left. The lights went out again, and stayed off for a short while. Murmuring went through the crowd before a sudden clap of thunder rocked the auditorium. The loud bang and flashing lights seemed sufficient to shush most, and the rest fell silent to the rain that followed.
Clip-clopping sounded from the left, a man on a horse rode in. He looked out amongst the crowd, searching for his final destination.
“Come, men! We’re almost there!” He rode on, reaching the furthest edge of the stage before stopping and looking back. “What’s taking you?” he yelled back.
A stout man stumbled from beyond the curtain, followed by a few less descript travelers. “We’ve not got horses, milord, and must carry our own tents and provisions.” He came to a panting halt, bent over with his hands on his knees. “Please, we beg of you, sir; slow down!” he gasped out.
“We’re nearly to the tower! If we give slack now, we might never make it!” He was obviously overzealous. The mere amount of excitement in his voice was very ungentlemanly.
The play continued, the knight pushing his men past obstacles and the men providing comic relief. Eventually they came to a castle.
“We’re here, men,” said the knight triumphantly. He brandished his sword and pointed it forward. “Onward to glory and honor!” He rushed offstage while his men sighed and followed.
The stage went black, the bard returning with his spotlight.
“Our hero and his men have made it to the castle,” he said, strumming a tense tune.
“Return in five to see the end of their hassle!” And he bowed again, the light going out and the audience lights turning on.
People got up and left, including us. Mary made me buy her a small popcorn and soda for the rest of the play and I got myself a bag. We returned to our seats in time for the lights to dim.
Mary’s eyes went wide. “Uh, I’ll be right back,” she said urgently.
“But it’s about to start!” I grabbed her arm to pull her back. “What’s up?”
“Little lady’s room!” She ran off just after whispering this, disappearing at the back of the auditorium.
I sighed and sat back, making sure to pay enough attention to repeat it back to her when she got back.
“Welcome back, my faithful audience!” he sang again, dancing onstage, the spotlight cleanly following him even though all the lights were still on.
“I hope you’ve all properly prepared yourselves for the battle ahead.” He strummed a dark chord.
“Because it’s about to start.” There was a certain… evil about him as he said this.
Suddenly, the lights all flashed off and a loud roar rang through the audience. A giant dragon head burst from beyond the back of the stage, sweeping over the crowd and shooting flames. I thought it seemed a bit low and, as I turned around to check those behind me, I heard a man scream in pain. I quickly located the man on fire, pulling off my jacket as he ran into the aisle and towards me. I caught him in the garment, forcing him down and covering him with it, smothering the flames.
Turning back towards the monster, I saw its head sweeping down towards the audience again. I watched as a woman was swallowed whole, screaming until the jaws clamped shut around her torso. Blood splashed everywhere.
A yell sounded from the audience. “Where is the knight?”
“Here I am!” came a shout from the stage, one I recognized.
Everyone, including the dragon, turned to the stage to see Mary in full armor and holding a sword.
“I’ve come to save the day, Princess Marilyn!” She yelled, hefting the sword onto her armored shoulder.
I had my face in my hand, rubbing my temples to soothe the oncoming headache. After a moment of silence, I looked up, seeing the knight from before just behind the curtain, looking out at Mary in confusion.
“En garde, dragon!” she yelled, lifting the sword over her head and rushing the monster.
The dragon seemed to chuckle at this, swooping down at Mary. The sword met scales, coming off with the audible clanging sound of metal on metal. The sword flew out of her hands and into the crowd. I was amazed it didn’t hit an innocent bystander as it slid down the aisle and stopped at my feet.
Mary, for her part, jumped away from the dragon instead of facing it again unarmed. She looked to me, and motioned me onstage. I rolled my eyes, picked the weapon up, and slowly walked up to the stage. A short hop and I was standing between the dragon and Mary.
“Hey, dragon-” I unenthusiastically yelled.
“C’mon, you gotta give more than that!” she harshly whispered to my back.
“Fine!” I whispered back and took a heroic stance, loosening my tie and unbuttoning my shirt a couple. “Dragon!” I yelled in my most manly voice, causing the panic in the room to subside. “You have harmed many people, my people.” I motioned out to the crowd, who were now rapt in the speech. “This day, you shall perish!” I pointed the blade to the creature, who seemed to flinch.
In response, it breathed fire at me.
“Son of a-” was all I could say before the flames engulfed where I stood.
Fire is hot!
Author's Note
I'm sorry, it was too underwhelming without it!
