Once upon a time, I fell in love with a witch.
A man sat quietly in a far corner of an inn. It must have been a busy day, as it had been the innkeeper who had brought him the plate that contained his dinner. He stared at the seemingly filthy plate with utter disbelief. “How can so many people be okay with that?” He thought. Where he lived, they would clean every single plate, spoon, fork and knife with warm water and soap. In that town, no one seemed to be bothered by eating from a plate someone had used right before. He forced himself to look natural. He forced himself to bring some food into his mouth, trying to avoid direct contact between the fork and his lips.
He had been trained to pass unnoticed, to avoid any attention. He knew how to survive in any situation, if the emergency was grave enough. It sickened him to think of what he was doing, but he did it regardless.
Around him, people ate. Others spoke loudly, and often played strange games that seemed to involve more alcohol than chance. In the other side of the room, there was a man playing mediocre tunes and singing – or attempting to sing – with a voice that hardly ever made the right tone, and yet managed to get tipped. The man guessed it was due to the satirical content of the song, which appeared to be able to entertain those who bothered to listen.
The fireplace burned bright and hot, and smoke escaped from it, filling the ceiling and the lungs of anyone fool enough to stand too tall. Not all the smoke came from the fireplace though, as a reasonable number of people had their own personal sources. They must know they were killing themselves, since there was no way inhaling such smoke could ever do anything other than turn your lungs as dark as the soot that covered the ceiling and walls.
He somehow managed to hear some conversations, despite all the noise. One of them in particular caught his attention. He made sure not to appear to be listening, and focused his mind on the words.
“Hey, did you hear the big news, yet?” a man said, almost yelling, trying to be heard by his companion. “They say the King is dead, killed by an assassin in his sleep.”
Jason commanded the earth moving towards him to shatter into its elemental particles, just as his attention was drawn to the source of the light newly illuminating the sky. He surrounded the flaming ball in a sphere of pure water, and just as it started absorbing the heat the light faded away and the water turned into frost and cracked, just to collapse upon itself and become more sense and flawless.
David split the ice into thin slivers, and launched them, nearly drag-free, towards Jason’s physical body. They shattered against a sheet of pure steel which right afterwards disappeared to give way to a ball of extremely dense matter which quickly accelerated towards the surface of the earth, David’s body in its path. The ball veered out of the way at the last second, and turned towards Jason shortly before vanishing into nothing.
Yet another old concept, updated and revised. Sorry for the long delay since the last post.
A dwarf, an elf and an orc walk into the tavern.
“So full of meat in here.” says the orc, looking around.
The dwarf grabs the handle of his axe. “Shut up, before I cut you.”
“Cut what, my toe?” the orc chuckles.
“Hey, hey! Come on, let’s have some peace…” says the elf in his melodic voice, getting between them.
“Peace my ass,” replies the dwarf and turns around to face the other way.
The orc walks to the bar and slaps it with one of its big hands. “…‘tender! Gimme some meat.”
“What kind?” the man replies.
“Dun’ care. Be fast, ‘fore I eat a client.”
“Add a pair of beers for us,” says the dwarf. “we’ll be over there in the corner table.”
The elf and the dwarf walk to an empty table, and sit down. The orc waits for the bartender to come out of the kitchen, and takes the plate the man was carrying. He drops it on the table, splattering all around it with sauce, and proceeds to eat.
…and he said the words and closed his eyes,
and the world moved on without him,
until the day she would be free again.
I was barely awake yet, and I already knew something went terribly wrong. I opened my eyes to see nothing. I didn’t dare Sense my surroundings out of fear that my magic reserves had dropped too low. I was still alive, so there must have still been some left, but I felt weak which meant it had been a long time. Too long…
This is a rewrite of an old idea from back in 2004 or so. I don’t remember the exact date.
They were speaking in a language I didn’t understand. I was being held down on top of a stone, by men from a country I couldn’t identify. It had all happened too fast to do anything. I was surrounded, and then suddenly a dozen wavy swords pointed at me. Obviously, I gave myself up. I was unarmed, and even if I had had any weapon I didn’t have any battle experience. They must have gotten the wrong person, I thought.
They called me by a name that wasn’t mine, although it was not the first time someone used it. “Sorry, you got the wrong person”, I always said. Most often, they were comprehensive and excused themselves and let me go, but a few times I had had to run. That worked because those people usually found me in a city, where the streets are narrow and there’s a lot of places to hide in. I had to learn how to use the cities to my advantage the hard way, though.
There was ever only one way out of The Forest, and is was not an option any more. It does not matter, because turning back had never been on the plan. If the mission succeeds, it will not be necessary to leave the forest, and if it fails, then there will be nowhere to leave to. Knowing that, the man walks forward, towards the deepest point of The Forest, the point where the shadow energy keeps gathering.
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As the ground beneath the building rumbled, the man looked at his dead children. He gave them a caress and a last kiss, turned around and walked away. As he crossed the threshold to the balcony, he sprinted and jumped over the railing. As he fell, he turned round and prepared to hit the pile of hay that was just in the right spot for when the time came. His whole house had been designed knowing sooner or later he would be found. He just did not expect it to happen so soon. He had hoped his children would have time to grow up, leave his mistakes behind, and live unknowing of the blood they carried.