The Storm

It was also night in Saddle Arabia, and Gerhart, after telling Karl about his strange encounter, had laid down into his sleeping bag and looked at the stars. Before he knew it, he had slipped away from reality and into the subconscious as he began sleeping. However, something was off. He felt a very distinct feeling of… awareness, and saw, to his surprise and terror, that he was looking down at himself sleeping!  “What the…” said Gerhart. “The H***!?! Why am I speaking English!?!” He had no time to ponder further as he suddenly felt like he was going a billion miles an hour. Gerhart then experienced a series of indescribable feelings, and when the world had stopped spinning, he found himself in an unlit bedroom. He could feel a cool, gentle breeze coming in from the opened windows. Even in the dark, he could clearly see a suspicious looking shape in an unusually small bed, which was next to an even smaller nightstand, and, on it, an even smaller kerosene lantern. Gerhart, unarmed and somewhat afraid, quietly approached the bed. His steps were soft but heavy; with every footfall, Gerhart expected the person to wake up and beat him to death. At last his crescendo of horror reached its climax and, he gently pulled aside the overs to reveal... a man, wearing blue pajamas with plane designs on them and a matching night cap. Gerhart’s fear was suddenly replaced by overwhelming excitement. Another human, other than him and Karl, it was a thrilling discovery! But… then he stepped back, and fear seized him again. Where was this place? Could this person see him? What would he say?

John eyes suddenly fluttered open. He felt a presence in his room. A human presence. “Okay, mate, I know you’re in here, and don’t give me any ghost crap, Just come out where I can see you.” To prove his point, he got out of bed and grabbed his pistol, and inserted a bullet, and closed the chamber with an audible CLICK.

“Light the lantern,” said a disembodied voice, next to his bed.

John felt around, found the bedside lantern, turned the switch, and light sprang forth into the room. “I think ‘let there be light’ would be to cliché to say,” thought John. When he turned to see where the voice had come from, what greeted his sight was unbelievable.

“HOLY S***!” John swore aloud.

“Easy, there, let’s not get off on the wrong foot,” said a man wearing a tan desert uniform.

“JOHN? Are you alright?” Twilight’s voice rang.

“Twilight, Get in here! There’s another man in here! I can see him! He’s wearing a desert uniform, a sun helmet, with goggles, and, I think he’s another pilot!” said John.

There was the sound of galloping and Twilight burst into the room. “What human? I can’t see him!”

The man in the khaki uniform said something that sounded German and jumped back a foot, eyes wide with shock and fear.

“WHAT?! He’s right there… or… he was… wait… where’d he go? God dammit! He was right there! RIGHT THERE! Clear as day!” said John, frustrated as he pointed to where Gerhart had been standing.

“John, I don’t know what to say, just get back in…” Twilight never finished her sentence and suddenly, the whole room went black and John bolted upright, no Twilight or man in desert uniform present. He could feel a cool, gentle breeze coming in from the open windows.

That is, until there was quiet knock at the door. “John? Are you okay? I heard you yelling in your sleep. I thought something was wrong,” said Twilight’s voice.

“No, it’s nothing, but I’m a bit shaken. It was all so real… could you come here for a minute?” said John. He felt like a five year old, but to be honest, he didn’t care.

The door slowly creaked open and Twilight came in, slowly walking over to the bed.

John sighed, before patting the mattress next to him.

Twilight climbed in the bed and was assaulted by a surprise hug.

John let go after a minute and said, “You’re not telling anyone, got it?”

“Fine with me,” said Twilight.

“I think I have lost my dignity to be snuggling with a unicorn,” mumbled John.

“You haven’t,” replied Twilight.

“Good,” said John. He and Twilight sat for a moment.

“We could…” Twilight began.

“No, not now,” said John. He propped himself up against the headboard and began, “You know, when I was just a little boy, I used to pretend I was Pegasus.”

“Pegasus? Don’t you mean a pegasus?” said Twilight.

“No, just Pegasus, we only have one famous winged horse where I come from. It was a pure white stallion that came from the monster Medusa’s neck after she’d been decapitated by the hero Perseus. After being born, Pegasus was eventually found by the Nine Muses and they tended him. However, a man named Bellerophon, a great tamer of horses who wanted to ride Pegasus, fell asleep one night in Athena’s temple. He dreamt that the goddess… Athena… had given him a golden bridle which would allow him to ride Pegasus. When he awoke, he had the bridle, and after finding the winged horse, he mounted it and they rode like no other horse or rider had ever ridden. They soared as fast as the wind, over land and sea, and they went off to fight the hideous monster Chimera, which lived in the land of Lycia in Asia Minor. It had the head of a lion the head and body of a goat, and her tail was a serpent, and she could breathe fire. She also had an impenetrable hide that no weapon could pierce. However, this didn’t stop Bellerophon. As Pegasus swept down, he thrust a lump of lead into he creature’s mouth. Chimera’s flames melted it, and the lead trickled into its stomach, killing it. After Chimera was defeated, the people then came out of hiding, and praised Bellerophon for his heroic deed. The king gave him the land as thanks for killing the beast and Bellerophon became king when the old king died, and all was well for him. However, his power got to his head and, he thought himself a god, equal to Zeus, even. So he mounted Pegasus and tried to enter Olympus, the home of the gods. However, his pride led to his downfall. And I mean that in a literal sense, because Pegasus threw him off, whereupon he fell and sustained great injuries. He then became a beggar for the rest of his life and then died as one. Pegasus, however, made it to Olympus and Zeus made him the carrier of his thunderbolts.”

“Wow… is that the story of Pegasus?” said Twilight. “Its so exciting... and.. violent...” She trailed off, realizing some of the more disturbing content the story had.

“Yes, it’s one of the shorter Greek Myths, and my favorite one of all.  You probably didn’t understand much of it, but, it was one of the major things that inspired me to becoming a pilot,” said John, sighing wistfully, a look of longing and nostalgia on his face. “I spent hours as Pegasus as a kid, fighting the evil Chimera or flying around, shooting thunderbolts at anyone who came close. I always imagined that there was a Pegasus out there, and, when a first arrived here, that’s what I saw… but not the one I was expecting.”

With that, he slid down into the bed again, he snuggled up to Twilight, and fell asleep, no longer plagued by bothersome dreams.

However, Gerhart’s midnight expedition wasn’t quite over yet. He felt himself going about a billion miles an hour again, and this time, he was in large mountainside city with cobblestone streets and medieval buildings. But the most amazing part was the castle, which Gerhart felt compelled to visit. He suddenly found himself inside the castle, probably where shouldn’t have been, but here was there. Moonlight flooded through the large windows, and palely lit a large hallway with very expensive and antique looking furniture, vases, and portraits, all the typical things Gerhart would expect to find in a place like Neuschwanstein. His footfalls echoed faintly throughout the halls, and he quietly strolled past the large windows, hardly making a sound. At some point, he reached a set of spiral stairs in the pitch blackness of an unlit corridor and climbed up to what appeared to be at the top of a tower. There was a set of doors with two guards, who were, fortunately for Gerhart (and unfortunately for them), asleep. Gerhart managed to slip through the door and past the guards until he was in large and spacious bedroom; suns were everywhere, on the wallpaper, on the pillows and interior. Gerhart was careful not to move past a large window that let in an ample of amount of moonlight. He then perceived light breathing in the corner of the room. Turning, he observed a large canopied bed in which a pony was sleeping in. He very quietly crept over, and saw the bed’s occupant. The pony was a little over a meter tall, had a long, transparent rainbow mane and tail, and was a pure white color, whiter than a cloud on a summer day. On a dresser/nightstand next to the bed was a golden tiara with diamond shaped purple amethyst in the center of it. Gerhart was by no means a jeweler, but he estimated the the tiara was probably worth 10,000 Reichsmarks if sold to the right buyer. It was tempting, but he left it, knowing better than to steal from royalty, it would basically be like stealing from Der Führer.

Suddenly, the pony stirred, and opened its eyes. He could only stand there, frozen in shock as the pony’s deep purple eyes swept over him. The pony seemed more curious than scared or surprised. Suddenly, it just turned over and and faced away from him, as if he was just an illusion.

Gerhart suddenly got the feeling of going a billion miles an hour again, and was gone.

Meanwhile...

It was about 12:45 when John was awakened by Twilight. “John, fifteen minutes until the train arrives,” said Twilight, out of bed with a small suitcase next to her.

“Hmmmm… wha… what’s that you say?” said John groggily.

“Fifteen minutes until we have to leave!” said Twilight, a bit more urgently.

John snapped up and immediately grabbed his clothes bag and said, “I’ll be right back.” After a quick shower, usage of the toilet, and change into some casual clothes, John was ready to go. After Twilight wrote a note to Spike and the rest of her friends, the two left, all packed and all ready for the long trip that awaited them.

When Gerhart awoke, the sky in the east was not yet pale. He did feel refreshed, but it was off: he expected himself to be exhausted or still a bit tired, but he wasn’t really sure what to make of his experiences last night.

“Sie wachte auf. Das ist ein bisschen zu früh, auch für Sie, nicht wahr? (You woke up. This is a bit early, even for you, isn’t it?)” said Karl.

“Ja, es ist, aber ich hatte das seltsamste Traum... (Yes, it is, but I had the weirdest dream...)” said Gerhart.

“Wirklich? Erzählen. (Really? Do tell),” said Karl.

Gerhart exhaled and began telling Karl about his strange experience.