Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts

Thursday, February 8, 2018

Little Island Tales - Part 14


    "Diego. Wake up, nani."
    Diego grumbled and groaned, rolling over in his spot. He glanced over his shoulder and could see the sun shining through the cracks in the walls and the form of his mother moving at the far end of the house.
    "Diegooo~" she called again.
    "Mmph."
    "Your friend is here, nani."
    "Mmph!"
    "Have it your way." his mother said with a giggle.
    The pitter patter of feet on the floor was sudden and washed away by a high pitched squeal.
    "Diego!" Tamah yelled.
    She hit him from behind, practically tackling him into the wall, and began violently shaking him.
    "Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup!" the younger girl said in delight.
    "Mmmph!"
    Diego rolled over and glared up at Ka'lani's sister. Her face was bright and beaming and a smile was stretched from ear to ear.
    "Hi." she said shortly, her smile growing wide.
    "Why?" was all he could muster.
    "I got you something!" she declared proudly, jutting out her chest. "Come see come see!"
    Using his back as a springboard, Tamah jumped off of him and ran back to the other side of the house. He weakly pulled himself from the bed and followed after her.
    "Tamah brought you some-" his mother began.
    "I FOUND YOU SOME BREAKFAST!" Tamah squealed, nearly bouncing up and down as she turned back to Diego.
    Cradled in her arms was a small, woven basket. Tucked into the basket were a number of different fruits. There were some mangoes, papayas, raspberries, dragonfruit, and even a few bananas. They all looked ripe and incredibly delicious.
    Without hesitation he snatched one of the mangoes and began digging in.
    "Thank you," he offered after a few bites. "But...where did you get all this?"
    "I found it!"
    "Tamah has had a very busy morning from the looks of things." Diego's mother offered.
    Diego knew well enough that none of the fruit really grew that nearby and more than a few would even require venturing into the lower forests on the mountain.
    "Did your brother help you?"
    She shook her head.
    "Ka'lani?"
    Again, no.
    "Did you really go alone?"
    Tamah beamed once more, her smile threatening to split her face.
    "I wanted to make sure you had something tasty. I know how tired you've been. And I thought it would be nice to see you."
    Diego spared a brief look at his mom who simply smirked and shrugged before busying herself with something in the kitchen.
    It had been several days since the trek up the mountain with Johanas and he hadn't really done much other than help his mother around the house since then. He had felt strangely detached after the weird conversation with the older man but he hadn't been able to really place the why. His words had really bothered him, enough so that he hadn't given much thought to anyone really, even the recent discovery of the tracks.
    Not that much came of them. he thought to himself.
    He'd heard the warriors talking in the last few days. They hadn't really been able to find anything as the trail had been destroyed along with a chunk of the forest in the night. That, combined with the sounds they had heard the same evening, made many of them believe that if their had been an intruder on the island, they were likely already dead by the hands of the aka-akua. 
    It's too bad really. Diego wondered what someone from outside of the island would have been like.
    "Thank you." he repeated himself.
    Tamah nodded enthusiastically and set down the basket. As she did, there was a soft tinkle from inside.
    "OH!" she shouted. "I almost forgot!"
    Digging into the bottom of the basket, she retrieved several strange, shiny objects. There were four in total. They were cylindrical and made of a yellowish metal. One end of each cylinder was open to reveal a hollow interior. A hole had been punched through all of them with a simple leather cord so they could be worn as a necklace.
    Weirdly, they all smelt like burnt incense.
    "I wanted to give you one." Tamah continued and offered the shiny, little cylinder necklaces. "I thought maybe we could each have one. I found them while I was looking for breakfast."
    "You mean me, you, and your brother and sister?"
    "Mmmhmm."
    Diego shrugged and plucked the cleanest one from her palm. They all had little dents and dings, but the one he picked seemed to look the nicest.
    He promptly tied it around his neck.
    "I think they're kind of pretty." she offered.
    "They are, I guess." he confirmed with a nod. "Although, that reminds me, where is your sister?"
    In the last few days, Diego hadn't really seen Ka'lani. In all honesty, he hadn't seen anyone but his mother and whoever passed by the door. She had been the one person he'd considered trying to visit but hadn't quite brought himself to do so.
    Tamah, for the briefest of moments, appeared to be crestfallen. Her smile dimmed and her eyes fell to the floor for a moment. If he hadn't been staring right at her, Diego would have missed it entirely.
Because a moment later, she was beaming again, although it seemed strangely forced and artificial.
    "She's at Grammy Koula's. She's been over there for a couple days. I was going over there after you had breakfast to give her one of these." she said, holding up the cylinders again.
    "Can I come?" he asked her.
    "You should." Tula said from the kitchen. "As fun as it is to use you as my own personal slave, I think you need to get away from weaving and cooking for a little while."
    "Ok!" Tamah offered. "I'll make sure to take good care of him!"
    Before Diego could ask what that meant, the smaller girl had shoved a few raspberries into his hand, grabbed her basket, and was pushing him out the door into the warm sun beyond.

Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Little Island Tales - Part 13


    SCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAACCCCCCCCH!
    The roar, if that's what you could call it, was utterly inhuman. Defeaning at best, heart stopping at worst, it grew in fervent intensity as the beast came out of nowhere. It barreled through an entire grove of trees as easily as a scythe through a single stalk of wheat and didn't so much as slow down.
    And she couldn't even see the damned thing.
    It was like fighting the void of space itself.
    The gunshots roared in her ears and she bellowed her own roar of utter defiance. She heard something pop and blood openly ran from her pounding ears. Her entire body ached and her knuckles rattled with each shot, but that didn't stop her from unleashing a torrent of hell against the monster that dared challenge her.
    Unfortunately, the bullets didn't seem to do much.
    Only the tracers, flashing flares jutting out every few rounds, even seemed to make an impact. The burning red pyrotechnic charges seemed to burn the thing's flesh for a moment before vanishing inside the pitch-black beast.
    At least it was something.
    Not enough though.
    Not enough to stop it.
    Her hearing fading with each boom of the heavy rifle, she was forced to use drastic measures. Using the disappearing rounds as a judgement for distance, Jaelyn dove out of the way a half moment before the monstrous creature reached her. She felt her hip and leg bounce off its body as it roared by, sending her scrambling as her lower half was flung hard against a nearby tree with a disturbing crunch that seemed to echo in her failing eardrums.
    "Merde." she cursed weakly under her breath
    She clawed desperately at the forest floor for her gun, her mind doing all it could to focus on anything but the blooming pain.
    She had to fight.
    The beast was already coming about face, having cleaved out another chunk from the forest in a single sweep. Everything about it made her want to scream and hide in a hole somewhere. Aside from the monstrous roars, it was dead silent but for the forest it destroyed. It was just so big. So fast. And she couldn't see the putain de chienne! Once again, she brought her gun up and she didn't hear as much as feel her least favorite sound in the world.
    click
    "No. No! NO!" she heard herself scream, her words distant and echoing.
    She shook the useless firearm, quickly checking the clip and finding that it seemed to be jutting out at a strange angle. She tore at the jammed piece, but her panicked attempt to right the broken weapon was interrupted by a strange sound that made it through the haze. Weirdly, to her addled mind, it sounded like a dragon throwing up.
    Jaelyn, more on instinct than sight, flung herself away as something wet and acrid splashed across the forest floor where she had been only seconds before. She could feel some of it hit her boots and pants and felt a distinct sizzling sensation as whatever had been thrown her way started to melt through the hardened polycarbon.
    Well that's fun. She thought as something slick, hot, and wet started to pool in the bottom of her boot.
    Probably her melting foot if the smell was to be any indicator.
    Taking off at a run, fire running up her leg as her nerves burned with pain, Jaelyn slung the rifle and was about to go for her sidearm when she felt the thing coming at her again. Felt the ground shake as earth was displaced and trees were ripped asunder. She waited as long as she dared, til it was just on top of her, not inches away with its hot, stinking breath warming her neck, before snapping into a hard left and diving through a particularly thick grove of trees.
    And off a cliff.
    "MERDE!!!"
    Open ocean and fresh salt air lay before and under her with nothing else to catch her. In front of her, a massive pillar stuck out of the ocean and behind her the cliff she had come from. Underneath? Nothing.
    She clawed at the open air, reaching out for anything to grab hold of. To find purchase in anyway. If only she'd still had her pack.
    She had just enough time to look up, to see the beast's face poking out of the treeline, and scream up at it in fury.
    Jaelyn hit the ocean at the bottom of the cliff with a sickening crack from her back. Her body spasmed in shock and she didn't feel as much as see the air expel from her lungs into the cold, salt water. A moment later, darkness enveloped her and she blacked out.

    Some ways down the mountain, the village stirred; awoken by the sounds of battle from the forests unseen. They knew they roars of the aka-akua but not that strange popping, booming sound that hid risen to challenge them. When nothing further came of it, Diego, like many of the other children, rolled over and went back to sleep.

====

(A short entry today, but potentially critical. If you'll forgive the length, I felt that this entry was important to introduce a few things into the world of Little Island Tales. I hope you enjoyed and will join us for more soon.)
   

Sunday, February 4, 2018

Little Island Tales - Part 12


    "Johanas?" asked a familiar voice from beyond the foliage.
    The older man visibly relaxed as Joun, one of the warriors from the beach, pushed through the underbrush. He was bare chested, his shirt tied around his pants, and he was holding a spear tightly in his right hand. His face was flushed red and he was soaked with sweat from head to toe, no doubt from the growing, steamy warmth of the jungle.
    "And Diego." the warrior quickly added, glancing past Johanas. "The hell are you two doing out here?"
    Before Diego could respond, Johanas spoke for them.
    "Felt like going for a little walk." Johanas he said casually. "Little Diego here wanted to come with so it seemed like a good chance to show him a thing or two about tracking."
    Joun's eyes narrowed more in confusion than suspicion and he very plainly glanced down at the cripple's damaged leg and his cane. The older man, in turn, simply smiled wider.
    "Ain't that right, boy?" he said, glancing over his shoulder.
    "Eh...yea. That's right. My mother wanted to make sure someone was with him so I went with." Diego confirmed the half truth.
    Joun nodded.
    "That wasn't you we heard then, was it?" the warrior asked.
    "That popping sound? No. We were wondering ourselves." Johanas confirmed as he took a drag from the cigarette.
    "We think we have an intruder on the island." Joun stated flatly.
    "Explains the tracks." the older man said with a nod. "Was wondering why they looked so weird. Diego pointed em out to me."
    Joun glanced back at him again and looked a little impressed.
    "Really now? I would have figured it the other way around. Maybe you've got the workings of a hunter in ya, Diego."
    Diego shifted uncomfortably.
    "Maybe." he muttered.
    "Alright, you two head back to the village. We don't need anyone wandering around here while we're looking for someone, particularly not someone...eh..." Joun seemed to get stuck on his words for a minute before finishing. "...as venerable as yourself."
    Johanas burst out laughing which quickly broke down into a mild coughing fit.
    "Venerable! Ha! Yea, alright. Come on, Diego, let's get my old ass off this mountain."
   
    "Why did you lie to him?" Diego asked as they broke through the tree line and they stepped out into the blazing sun of the open beach.
    "What?" Johanas asked indigently. "Well I never! Ain't never lied in my life."
    "You lied to Joun, though."
    "Nope."
    Diego ran out in front of the cripple, stopping him from walking any farther.
    "You told him I showed you the tracks."
    "You did, didn't you? I didn't know about 'em til you told me."
    Diego faltered.
    "And that you were out for a walk."
    "And I was!" Johanas confirmed. "You even said it yourself: your mother didn't want me going alone. After all, he didn't ask why I wanted to go for a walk or what I was doing while walking."
    "But..." Diego stammered, not sure where to go with this. "You know there's an intruder!"
    "I figured there was based on the tracks and what you told me." the older man said, his grin threatening to split his head in half. "Joun only confirmed my suspicions further."
    Diego was speechless.
    In the moment, he had felt confused and even a little ashamed that Johanas had seemingly lied to the warrior. Now, with him plainly explaining how expertly he'd gotten around the man's questions, he couldn't decide if he actually felt better or not.
    "Listen, Diego, let me tell you something." Johanas said, his voice taking on an air of sincerity. "You're smart. You always have been. I blame your mother personally."
    The older man punctuated his statement with a short, barking laugh.
    "Problem is," he continued. "Most people think they are smart. Now this can mean that someone who doesn't know any better than you is going to make a decision that might effect whether you live or die. But, in return, it also means you can also use that same lack of smarts against em."
    Johanas tapped his head.
    "Make 'em think what they think is actually the case. People will always presume something. It's natural. Tell 'em what they want to hear and they'll believe it. Even if you tell em the truth to their face, if you tell em the right way, they'll do the lie for you."
    "I don't understand."
    "I know. But give it some time."
    Diego couldn't accept that.
    "But....why?"
    "Because..." Johanas began, his expression growing dark and distant. "Sometimes it's easier to let people believe one thing than face the pain of having to correct them. Sometimes people are scared to admit something to themselves as much as they are to others."
    Diego stared at the older man, stared at the normally vacant, smiling face, and how stern it had grown in a moment. The weary, sweat soaked lines and wrinkles and a horrible weight that seemed to lie across his entire being made him seem eternally older and more abused than he'd ever seen before.
    And, all at once, he wasn't sure they were still talking about the same thing.
    "So the tracks-?" he asked slowly.
    Johanas' face lit up again once more.
    "The tracks are fine. If we told em we were just following em, they'd get upset and worried. Easier to let em think we were just walking."
    The older man's smile returned in full force but Diego was still picturing the darkened facade from a moment prior.
    "Okay." he agreed softly.
    "Now come on." Johanas said with a pat on the boy's shoulder. "Let's get back to the village and see about stealing another bowl of stew from your mom."
    Johanas started off and Diego followed him down the beach. Occasionally, he found himself glancing back towards the woods where they'd come from, his mind chewing on the strangely cryptic and bizarre lesson that the older man had just imparted. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about 'people too scared too admit something' continually rolled about in his head even after he'd gone to bed that night.

Sunday, January 28, 2018

Little Island Tales - Part 10


    "Hey there, kid." Johanas said with that same, massive smile he always had.
    His cigarette bobbed up and down precariously as though it might stumble from his lips at any moment. The man's almost surreal grin was so wide that it looked like it might split his head in half at any moment and the words came with puffs of pungent, stinky smoke.
    Diego politely tried to ignore the smell.
    "Uh...Hi, Joe." Diego responded uncertainly.
    "You know," the older man began, resting heavily on his cane, a distinct look of mischief in his eyes, "I was thinking about what your mother said and figured she's right."
    "About what?"
    "About the fact I should take someone with me to go investigate those tracks you found."
    Diego found himself staring blankly at him. To start, he was already baffled about why the man was here in the first place and now this? What did any of this have to do with him?
    "I think that's a pretty good idea," Johanas continued. "Don't you?"
    "I...guess?"
    "So. Wanna come check them out with me?"
    Realization dawned on him and excitement began to build in Diego's chest, but something inside told him to stay his hand.
    "Yea!" he said with more joy than he meant to let out. Quickly doubling back, he asked, "But I don't think that's what mom meant. I think she meant someone older and more experienced."
    "Naaaah!" Johanas said with a long exhalation of smoke. "She didn't say who I should take with. Just that she wanted someone. And who better than a strapping young lad like yourself?"
    To punctuate the point, the older man laughed and patted Diego on the shoulder.
    He felt his compunctions drain away and a smile grew across his face that could easily rival the ever-present grin that Johanas wore. The excitement that had been welling up in his chest burst and he could stop himself from practically jumping up and down.
    "Ok!" he nearly shouted. "Let's go!"
    Diego nearly bowled the older man over as he shot past him and into the sand beyond. Johanas chuckled hard and, slowly and carefully, hobbled about-face to follow after the overeager boy.

    "What do you think?"
    "I think it looks like the trail is starting to get a little cold." Johanas responded to Diego's inquiry.
    He wasn't wrong either. At this point, any tracks that had existed on the lower beach were completely gone; washed away with the tide and the rolling waves. The ones that still existed in the rich, white sands of the upper beach were also starting to fade as the gentle noon-time breeze whittled them away to little more than divots among the dunes.
    "They were heading to the mountain!" Diego declared excitedly as he ran alongside the faded tracks, his eyes locked on the large, singular peak that dominated the island's horizon. "I got a good look at em earlier! Remember?"
    "I remember." Johanas said with a laugh.
    "Then come on! Let's go!"
    The older man nodded in agreement and followed after him. He moved even slower in the beach sand, the cripple's cane having trouble finding any real purchase and making it difficult to move in a straight line, but Diego was willing to slow down. Luckily, despite Johanas' pain, his smile never faltered and he didn't seem to get tired.
    Walking past the village, they soon found themselves rounding the bend to the little box canyon where their home was hidden from the elements. Sand soon changed to dirt and dirt gave way to a host of palm and coconut trees that sprouted here and there. After an hour's combined walking and hobbling, their trail had reappeared in the wet mud and the landscape had begun to incline.
    "Now those are pretty interesting." Johanas commented as he stared at the first, intact boot print they'd found on their walk.
    Diego had to agree.
    Unlike before on the beach where the track was either in soft sand or where the ocean had begun to wash away the details, Diego could plainly see every intricate detail of the boot mark. The mark was surprisingly large, easily rivaling most of the biggest warriors in the village, but that wasn't the odd part. The mark was filled with ridges cutting deep cuts into the wet dirt, running the length of the print, forming strange shapes and patterns. While he'd seen a hint of them earlier, here they were plain as day.
    "What are those?" Diego asked, indicating the deep ridges.
    "Don't know." Johanas replied with a shrug as he fished a fresh cigarette from his pocket and let it with one of the tinder-sticks the man always carried. "Some sort of fancy cobbling, I guess."
    "Why?"
    Again, a shrug.
    They were both resting on the remains of a fallen tree, staring at the thing. The tracks continued on deeper through up the mountain and into the thick groves and woods. Into the greenery and the darkness.
    "I'll tell you what, though..." Johanas began. "Whoever made these probably didn't run into any demons."
    Diego spare a quizzical look as if to ask "Why?", his mind drifting back to the massive aka-akua tracks he'd seen around the first set of prints.
    "He's moving too slow." the older man continued. "He wasn't running. The tracks aren't cutting deep or nothing like that. Just smooth and steady."
    "So he didn't come through at night?"
    Johanas, yet again spared a shrug.
    "Guess so. On top of that, there aren't any tracks following after it. See? All smooth except for our mystery man. And it's not like a demon moves quiet like."
    Diego, his attention now drawn to it, regarded the near perfect mud with new understanding. He'd seen the beach enough to know the aka-akua tore up everything they touched. Unless they could fly, there was no way they wouldn't notice that it had been there.
    Hell, if one had followed the boot tracks, there probably wouldn't be much to follow to begin with.
    And so, they sat a while longer in silence.
    The edges of the forest were beginning to heat up with the midday sun, the air thickening as it always did near the trees; a wet, heavy feeling that clung to your skin and made you thirsty despite your clothes being soaked. As excited as Diego was to find something new, he was starting to get a little tired from the walk and had just opened his mouth to ask when they might go back when they heard it.
    PoppopopopPOP!
    Diego jumped up in surprise and Johanas glanced around in confusion.
    "What was-"
    Popopopopopopopopop!
    The sound came from higher on the mountain, deeper into the forest, and reverberated off every rock and tree trunk.
    Diego spared a glance at Johanas who was pulling himself to his feet, his confusion drying up some of the man's permanent grin.
    "What was that?" Diego tried to ask again.
    "That?" Johanas said, regaining his smiling once again splitting his face. "That was a clue."

 ===

(Back by popular demand, we return to the world of Little Island Tales! I'm actually amazed by the number of requests I got both randomly in the comments sections and DM's/Emails. With that said, while there may be an interjection of a short story here or there, I intend to continue Little Island Tales for a while. So strap in and, as always, I hope you enjoy. See you again soon, Lovelies.)

Sunday, January 14, 2018

The Dragon's Maw (Final) - The Chronicle's of Braum Stormforge

http://dragon.images3.org/picture/913-scary-dragon-breathing-with-fire-by-oustins/

    The last kobold hit the ground with a resounding thud.
    For half a moment, Braum just stood there, his breath coming in short ragged gasps. His head was spinning and his fingers were numb. Despite this, he could easily feel the liquid collecting in extremities of his armor; the combined blood and sweat from the fight pooling and sloshing about in the metal gauntlet's fingertips and at the base of his boots.
    Some of it was theirs. More of it was his.
    With a crackle and sizzle of electricity, the eidolon settled next to him as Ember made his way down the stairs, stepping gingerly over the corpses.
    "Well that was fun." the summoner commented.
    Braum could do little more than scoff as he brought his hand to his chest, the palm growing a distinct golden hue. A warmth spread through his body as his god's divine blessing touched him and, while he would need actual rest to properly heal, he felt the blood from his wounds stop flowing as the flesh began to knit itself back together.
    He let out a sigh as the burn of battle began to be replaced by a wash of relief.
    "Yea." Braum agreed with a half-hearted nod before turning his attention upwards towards the orb. "But at least we found the o-"
    The entire room shuddered with the force of a small earthquake.
    "-rb." he finished and quickly added. "What was that?"
    Boooooom.
    Another shake and shudder, the echoing explosion could be felt in their bones and Braum could actually see the shockwave run through the walls; sending dust and bits of loose debris skittering about.
    Ember's eyes narrowed and Braum, his body still burning from the battle moments before, wearily lifted his hammer again, ready for a fight.
    Unfortunately, they weren't ready for what came.
    A jet of flame, blazing blue with tinges of red and orange, exploded through the wall on the far end of the room. The solid stone didn't fragment as much as it did turn instantly to molten rock and splatter like liquid wax from the sheer force and heat of the blast.
    Half a second later, what wall hadn't been liquefied by the flames collapsed as the head and neck of dragon came crashing through. The beast was larger than any creature Braum had even dreamed about; a mountain turned monster. It's bright red scales shone brilliantly in the firelight and the gargantuan creature, quite literally large enough that it could likely use the entirety of Wyrmshorde as a nest, was quickly followed by a bolt of lightning that struck it across its face from somewhere beyond the wall's precipice.
    "GRAB THE ORB AND RUN YOU FOOLS!" the magically enhanced voice reverberated off the walls, echoing from the room the beast had just broken through from.
    While the speaker was unseen, both men knew instantly who it was. It was the priest of Bahumut. They very man who had sent them on the quest.
    And so they ran.
    Sparing an extra few seconds to climb the small pillar in the center of the room, Braum snatched the orb and tucked it away in his bag before sprinting for all he was worth. In that time, several more blasts of flame had turned the walls, ceiling, and a number of nearby treasure piles to boiling slag and at least a dozen bolts of lightning had ricocheted off the beasts glittering hide.
    "Just remember the old Elvish proverb!" Ember called back as they barreled up the stairs and away from the chaos. "One does not need to outrun the dragon. They just need to outrun the dwarf!"
    Braum could do little more than growl as the summoner laughed at him. The taller, lither man quickly picked up speed but, to his credit, used the headway to open the magical armoire at the far end of the hall instead of simply leaving him behind.
    With Ember at the front, Braum behind, and the mage's Eidolon taking up the rear, they quickly navigated the twisting stone tunnels and didn't stop running until they were a half mile out the cave's entrance and down the road.
    Once there, they both collapsed in exhaustion; their faces and bodies drenched in sweat as they openly wheezed.
    "Th-That was..." Ember started.
    "Yea...
    "And the priest..."
    "Yea..."
    "Why?"
    "Don't know."
    Nothing else needed to be said. The two sat there for a minute, trying desperately to catch their breath while watching hesitantly up the mountain road at the cave's entrance. Nothing followed them out, although Braum doubted that such a beast as they'd seen would use the cave. Based on its sheer size, it very well might take the mountain with it if it decided to pursue them.
    Weakly, he stood up.
    "Let's get back to town." Ember said, his words barely a whisper through his hoarse throat. "I'm not sure what we're supposed to do with this damned orb if our payday is in their with a dragon, but I'd rather not wait around here."
    "Agreed." Braum said with a nod.
    And so, after another minute of collecting themselves, the pair began their trek back down the mountain. He noted that the necromancer seemed to be missing but thought little of it at the time. There were other things on his mind.
    Braum was thinking about the glowing orb in his pocket. He was thinking about how strangely heavy it was and how it felt in his palm, a slight sensation of energy tingling through his nerves at every slight touch.
    He was also wondering. He was wondering what he was supposed to do with this thing now that they had acquired it and whether the priest, who very likely saved their life, would be able to collect it from him.
    What he was not doing was thinking about the future.
    He wasn't thinking about some sociopathic mage with a love of dead bodies. He wasn't thinking about the implications that such a man, with an entire troop of dead goblins, was no where to be seen. As he was not a fortune teller, he wasn't thinking about how this one act, this one little quest they had just performed, would change the world forever. And finally, he certainly was not thinking, wondering, or really had any way of knowing that this orb and its quest would not only lead to his death, but his rebirth, and how the wheels that were now turning would strip him of his title in the eyes of his god and his position as a paladin.
    Instead, his mind was on the orb and no where else.

===

(Hello Lovelies. I hope you enjoyed 'The Dragon's Maw'. While I'm going to be stopping here for a little bit, worry not, Braum will be returning later. More of his story exists and hopefully the ending gives you a hint at some of what is to come. For now though, I'm going to be returning to Little Island Tales as well as a few other new pieces. Some of them will be a return to the classics and heavily horror oriented while a few others will be attempts at branching out my talents. Check in soon for more and I hope you have a wonderful day.)

Sunday, December 17, 2017

The Dragon's Maw (Part 4) - Chronicles of Braum Stormforge


    Braum had to give the carpenter credit.
    That armoire held up surprisingly well given the circumstances.
    He slammed into the heavy wood full force, propelled by the fireball spell that had been triggered. Had it not been for his thick, steel armor, he would have likely suffered a lot more than he did from the trap. As it was, he hit the armoire like a brick wall and crumpled to the floor under the weight of his full-plate and the pain of taking an explosion to the face.
    It was only after a few moments of staring blankly at the floor and listening to the distinct ringing in his ears that he considered whether Trudd had decided to punish him for something.
    Hell, perhaps Ember wasn't even a person. Maybe he was some kind of avatar of torment that had been issued for some unknown crime.
    That had to be it.
    Braum could see the summoner's boots approach out of his peripheral vision and promptly rolled onto his back. The act took considerably more effort than he expected but, to his surprise, didn't hurt quite as much as he thought it would.
    Small blessings.
    "~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~" Ember seemed to say.
    His lips were moving but it sounded like he was speaking underwater with a mouthful cotton.
    "What?" Braum asked, shaking his head.
    "~~~~"
    Nothing.
    Standing up, Braum shook his head, stuck a finger in his ear, hummed, and did everything else he could think of. After a few moments, the world finally stopped ringing and he had some semblance of hearing again.
    "Again."
    "Look out. Fireball." Ember said flatly with a wry smile.
    "No shit."
    Ember's smile only widened in response.
    "Do ya think you could NOT set off every gods foresaken trap down here?"
    Ember shrugged before quickly adding, "Hey. You set off the first one."
    Braum groaned and shoved his way past the smiling summoner to take a look at the box that had just knocked him on his ass. The lid had been blown apart and he could clearly make out the tiny, intricate runes on the debris that had been broken when Ember opened the chest. All about him, the walls, bed, desk, and everything else within range was scorched with black smears of heat and ash.
    Inside the chest was a different matter.
    The interior of the box was seemingly untouched by the damage. There were several small torches, an old cast iron cooking pot, a few random bits of clothes and cloth, a broken compass, a single gold ring, and, to Braum's surprise, a Dwarven long sword.
    He picked up the sword reverently, gripping the pommel and inspecting the blade. He could feel the buzz of magic running through it, making his beard hairs stand on end.
    "What's something like this doing down here?" he asked.
    "Good question." Ember commented. "Better question: what does it do? There are several veins of magic running through it. Looks like one is from the Evocation school, but the other one is-"
    "Divine." Braum said, cutting him off.
    He had been touched by enough holy magic to know it sizzled through the blade. Hell, he wielded the blasted magic himself in a pinch. It would be hard to mistake it as anything else. The sword's ephemeral power seemed to radiate out and buzz in the back of his head.
    Without another word, Braum began taking most of the contents of the chest and placing them in his bag. For some reason, he felt like it was important to retrieve these things. The pot, the compass, the torches; all were grabbed up and stowed away quickly. He only stopped for the briefest of moments on the ring.
    The ring was small and golden but plain in appearance. While it featured no etchings or runes, it seemed to buzz slightly as well. Or was he still feeling the sword?
    He glanced at Ember who was already distracted by yet another thing. At least it was the armoire this time. They could figure out what was going on there.
    Braum pocketed the ring without another thought and quickly joined the summoner.
    "What've you got?"
    "A lot of magic." the summoner commented, his gaze locked on the armoire.
    Ember pointed towards several areas across the hard-wood surface. "Veins" as he called them. It seemed that each rune was hooked up to a different vein and, based on what he was saying, quite literally EVERY school of known magic was securing this oversized cabinet.
    "So what you're saying is, if we open it's gonna knock us on our ass."
    "And so much more."
    The pair considered for a moment and Braum came up short. Ember, on the other hand, had a very inventive take on the matter.
    "I need a monkey."
    "Come again?"
    "I need a monkey!" Ember repeated with far more excitement than Braum thought a monkey warranted.
    "Why?"
    "Because I don't want my eidolon to blow up!"
    Before Braum could ask anything further, the summoner was already out the door and performing some sort of spell. By the time he left the room, the massive, ethereal monster was already disappearing; fading away into nothingness. In its place, a circle of glowing blue and purple runes had formed on the ground.
    No. Not on the ground.
    The magic symbols hovered very slightly above the ground by just a few inches.
    As he watched, the runes began to spin; softly at first but quickly picking up speed until they blurred into a solid line of flashing color. A single, glowing ball of light burst into creation like a minute star being born. It hovered just above the center of the circle and soon blossomed and bloomed; taking shape.
    Half a moment later, the magic faded and a small, brightly colored monkey remained in its place.
    While Braum had seen a couple of these hairy critters in his travels, it looked only vaguely like what was in front of him. The simian creature was roughly the right size and structure, but the colors were all wrong. The normal tones of browns and blacks were replaced with whites, creams, and even some gold here and there. Its fur was strangely matted, braided, and designed in various locations; particularly around the face, neck, legs, and arms. And the commonly vacant but curious expression was now, what Braum could only describe as, 'intense judgement'.
    "Monkey!" Ember declared gleefully as the creature jumped from its place on the floor onto his leg, up his torso, and quickly settled on his shoulder.
    "Care to explain?" Braum finally asked again.
    "Well obviously I'm gonna have him open the armoire. So if he dies in the process I can just resummon my eidolon afterwards."
    Braum just stared at the creature for a moment.
    It stared back.
    Judging him.
    "Ok, yeah. Sure." he shrugged.
    Braum really had no idea where this fell on the moral spectrum. But given the magical cannon fodder had no problem with it, then screw it. It didn't seem like any of the summoned creations were really alive persay, so he didn't feel like there would be any loss if Ember carried out his intended plan.
    It did make him wonder why he needed a monkey versus the eidolon though.
    Why not just blow up and resummon that?
    Ember quickly explained to the little creature that he wanted it to open the armoire in the other room and, as soon as the creature entered the small bedroom area, they both promptly took cover behind the wall.
    Shutting their eyes and covering their ears, they heard a distinctive rattle as the monkey gripped the armoire's handle and pulled hard.
    Maybe if they hadn't been bracing for an explosion at that very moment, they'd have heard the soft clanking of weapons and the muted shouting of orders far off down the passageway from the ruined, unexplored city.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

The Dragon's Maw (Part 3) - Chronicles of Braum Stormforge

Image Credit: BioWare and Dragon Age Game Series.

    "This bloody cave reminds me of an anthill." Braum spat.
    "So kind of like all Dwarven cities then?" Ember offered with a snide grin.
    "Not like this. Whoever put this place together must have been drunker than a fish in a tub of whiskey."
    "So, like all Dwarves then?"
    Braum shot him a brief glare.
    The door they'd passed through had led them through a drastically smaller tunnel. Unlike the previous, monumental passages, this was more akin to a large hallway than anything else. Worst yet, it appeared less like it had been carved out by a skilled group of engineers and more like it had been accidentally formed by a giant, blind, mildly idiotic worm with a tendency to lean to the right.
    The hall twisted, turned, went up, went down, double back on itself, and even featured one, lone secret door that led literally nowhere.
    Braum, not for the first time in the last day, felt a fire starting to light in the back of his mind. In a decade of service to Trudd, he'd never felt particularly disrespected by the deity's plans, but ever since this recent, rather cryptic dream, he'd felt outright wronged and like someone was yanking his chain. Everything about where he was, who he'd been with, and just the general lack of clear directions was quickly getting under his skin.
    "You know," Ember began. "It has a sort of a majesty to it in a way. Like a piece of art. Made by a very stupid per-"
    click
    Braum didn't really hear the depressing stone as much as feel it and immediately, unconsciously regret what he knew was coming next. He'd been in a few of these ancient ruins and it always seemed some designer or architect liked to leave little surprises for those who would come later. Normally there was at least a reason; a logic to the wheres and whys a trap might be laid.
    As far as he could reason in that brief millisecond of thought, whoever put it here was just an asshole.
    The slab of stone shot out of the cross section of the hallway like a hydraulic press and hit him with surprising force. With a distinct clatter and clank, he found his head and upper torso brief slammed into the far wall. He saw stars and tasted copper but, to his surprise, he wasn't dead; more beat up than anything.
    He was bleeding lightly from the forehead where he'd slammed it into the stone and he couldn't quite remember the alphabet, but he wasn't much worse for wear. All in all, he could have been in much worse shape. Apparently the trap had either lost its edge over the years or it hadn't been built to try and crush such a heavily armored assailant.
    The enchanted steel of his platemail was already rebuilding the cracks and dings by the time he crawled up from the dusty stone.
    "Son of a rotten troll fucker..." Braum growled through the taste of blood and dirt.
    "You really should watch out." Ember commented dismissively.
    Braum glared a warning of pain and suffering at the summoner who, despite having just watched him slam into a wall, had remained rather cool about the whole thing. Ember and his massive, ephemeral beast simply stared right back.
    Mentally, he added that to the list of offenses he'd had to deal with in the last day.
    "Fine. Fine. Let the..." he stared at the eidolon that was hovering just next to the summoner, searching for the right word.
     He didn't find it.
    "...Let the thing go first."
    "What?" Ember said with the first look of surprise and emotion he'd seen on the man's face. "You can't be serious!"
    "What're you talking about? Of course, I'm serious."
    "But what if there's danger!" Ember demanded. "He's not immortal after all. If he dies from some beast or some trap down here I'm gonna have to STOP. Then I'm gonna have to summon him. And then we're going to have to start walking again! I just couldn't bear it if something happened."
    For just the briefest of moments, Braum wondered if they would be lucky enough to find a Dwarven tomb. This was quickly followed by considering whether or not he could fit the summoner's corpse in it.
    Ember let out a laugh and waved his hand dismissively. The man's monster pushed forward through the cramped tunnel and soon they were pressing on through the hewn-rock maze.
    Braum, despite his feelings of frustration, continued to keep himself between the mage and any potential danger that might appear from their front however he decided to let the eidolon have a good distance this go around in case they tripped on anymore traps.
    Soon enough, the tunnel widened once again into another large hall. Unlike the ones before, however, this hall actually appeared functional. Two doors could be seen, one on the left and one on the right, both made of simple wood. Additionally, there was a wide expanse shrouded in darkness further beyond...perhaps the main area of the city?
    With the exception of their echoing footsteps, however, absolutely nothing stirred.
    "What do you think?" Braum asked with a motion towards the vast expanse beyond.
    "I think we should figure out what's behind these doors before we move on."
    He considered for a moment, glancing back and forth from the void just outside of the realm of their visibility and the simple wooden doors and quickly agreed with the summoner. After all, it wouldn't take to have something sneak up on them from behind. Nor would it pay to accidentally pass over the orb that they were looking for because it was in some study or storeroom that they just walked past.
    What they found in the first door in the left was hardly exciting, however.
    A little room with a desk, a bed, a single chest, and a large armoire sat quietly in darkness, seemingly forgotten by time. The bed was made while the floor and everything else appeared relatively clean and undisturbed short of a fine layer of age and dust that seemed to cover everything.
    Braum wouldn't have given a second thought if not for Ember.
    "Ooo~" The summoner chortled as he approached the chest at the end of the bed.
    With a shrug, the paladin joined him in the little room and began to take a closer look around. The table was made of a fine cherrywood; smaller but well crafted. The bed appeared to have woolen sheets. The armoire-
    He blinked in surprise.
    Braum hadn't noticed it the first time, but the armoire's face was glowing softly. A ring of runic symbols that he couldn't readily recognize had been carved out of the wood; the diameter of the ring having been intersected the by doors' seam.
    "Huh." he thought outloud. "Hey Ember, what do you thi-"
    But he didn't get to finish his question. Behind him, Ember had been tinkering about with the chest at the foot of the bed. At the same time Braum was turning to ask the summoner about his thoughts on the runes, the thunking and clanking of Ember's mechanations were replaced by very hasty footsteps exiting the room.
    A half second later, the world was on fire and Braum found himself airborne.


----

(Hey all, sorry about my absense for the last two weeks. In short, it's one of those times that life just catches up to you and grinds everything else to a halt. As it stands, I'm working to play catch-up and hope to punch out more of Braum's tales in the next few days; hopefully with a return to regular releases. I hope everyone's doing good and that you have a wonderful day!)

Sunday, November 19, 2017

Little Island Tales - Part 9



    "What is it, Nani?" Tula asked.
    Diego glanced nervously back at Johanas who returned his look with a big smile.
    "Want me to go for a walk?" he offered.
    Diego immediately regretted his apprehension as he stared at the crippled man. Johanas was certainly able to get around, but only slowly and painfully. Sending him for a walk from his own home because Diego felt nervous talking to his mother infront of him seemed downright cruel; particularly since the problem really was minor in the scope of anything.
    "No no! It's fine!" him and his mother both declared in unison.
    Johanas laughed.
    "Wow! What's that old phrase?" he asked. "Getting it in stereo?"
    Diego didn't know. He'd never heard of a stereo before nor had any idea what that actually meant. But Johanas didn't seem offended in anyway and so he turned back to Tula.
    "What's stereo?" he asked.
    "No idea. My pop used to say it whenever he heard the same two things at once."
    Diego considered that for a minute and shrugged. He then turned to his mother, his stomach in knots.
    "I was hoping...well. I wanted to ask you..."
    Each time he started, he trailed off. He found himself shifting and moving like his body just couldn't get comfortable.
    Tula said nothing. She simply stirred her stew and waited.
    "I guess...I don't know where to start."
    "The beginning seems like a good place." Johanas interjected and chuckled between a drag on his cigarette.
    Diego nodded absently. And then the flood gates loosed.
    "A little bit ago, Ka'lani started working on a flute. And you know she already has a flute but she plays a flute so maybe she wanted a new flute... but then she told me that she was making the flute for someone else and I don't know who she's making it for so I said "Ka'lani, who are you making it for?" and she wouldn't answer so I kept asking her and she keeps not telling me and it makes me feelreallyuncomfortableandI'msicktomystomacheverytimeItalktoheraboutitandIdon'tknowwhat-"
     Tula put her hands on her son's shoulders to try and quell the boy's word-vomit, worry in her eyes.
     "Slow down, sweetie. What are you saying?"
     Diego opened his mouth again but felt himself choke on the words. A million things came to mind, but he settled on the obvious.
    "Ka'lani won't tell me who the flute is for and it makes me feel sick and I don't know why!"
    Both the adults nodded to each other for a moment and shared a knowingly smile. That smile just made Diego feel worse. Not worse in a sick way. Worse in a mad way. Like they had all the answers and he was just some dumb k-
    "Well," his mother began, "you like Ka'lani, don't you?"
    "Yea." Diego agreed absentmindedly.
    "And you like spending time with her?"
    "Yea." he agreed again.
    "Well maybe you're starting to get to that age..." Tula offered with a wry smile. "That you really like her? And maybe she likes you back?"
    Diego stared at his mother blankly.
    "I just said I like her." he commented, his confusion apparent.
    Johanas couldn't help but laugh and Tula just looked embarrassed.
    "Of course, Nani." she said, her tone softer and more girlish than he often heard it.
    They sat in silence for a moment, Diego feeling confused, his mother looking embarrassed, and Johanas smoking his cigarette. The quiet progressively stretched out, growing more and more awkward with each passing second before Johanans decided to break it.
    "Well, if you like her, why don't you go help her with that flute?"
    Diego felt his back tighten and his face burn hot all of the sudden, his shoulders hunching unconciously.
    "She's with her sister. And they're on the beach. I mean, I was with them earlier when the warriors found the tracks but I don't know..." his voice trailed off again.
    "Tracks?" Tula asked, jumping on the new topic in a surprisingly desperate attempt to change the topic.
    "Yea. The warriors found some tracks in the sand. They came up off the beach and headed towards the mountain."
    The information was by no means new, but having gotten up some of the feelings that were plaguing him earlier about Ka'lani, he suddenly found renewed interest flooding his mind.
    "Really now?" Johanas asked, leaning forward in his chair.
    Diego nodded vigorously.
    "It was really weird too. The tracks were human, but the boots were weird. They had these ridges and valleys and markings like nothing else. The warriors hadn't seen it before either. And they came up out of the water, but there wasn't any boat."
    "So how'd they get there?" Johanas asked excitedly, his own tone matching Diego's boyish enthusiasm.
    "I don't know! Ka'lani and I were looking at them and couldn't figure out where they'd come from! Oh. And Tamah. Tamah was there too. But it just didn't make any sense!" Diego declared, his voice getting louder and faster the more he thought about the mystery that had captivated his thoughts earlier before quickly adding. "The warriors are checking out the mountains."
    "Than I suppose we'll just have to let them look for whoever is on the island, Diego." Tula said softly.
    It was clear she wanted to calm Diego, but Johanas had other intentions.
    "Or we could go after them too!" Johanas offered.
    "What?" demanded Tula.
    "Or maybe just I could?" he quickly corrected. "Diego's right to be excited. When's the last time we had someone new on the island?"
    "It's probably nothing." Tula quickly shot back. "Besides, the warriors will find them."
    "You're right! Good for me I was a warrior."
    "Was."
    The two adults stared each other down for a second; Johanas with his perpetual grin and Tula with a strangely motherly-like look of disapproval.
    Finally, Tula spoke first.
    "If you want to go wandering around on your leg, please make sure someone knows where you are, Joe. Preferably you have someone with you." she said with a sigh. "And let's make sure you have some lunch first."
    "Sounds good to me!" he said with renewed vigor.
    "Diego, would you like to join us?"
    Diego agreed with a nod, although he was wondering what he'd just instigated.
    With that, the three of them shared bowls of fresh stew and quickly gobbled it down. Diego hadn't realized how hungry he was and his mother's stew always hit just the right spot. Apparently the same could be said of Johanas because he ended up eating three bowls compared to their one before letting out a loud belch and leaning back in his chair.
    That was where he left the crippled man, along with his mother, when he left the hut to return back home. And, despite his excitement, he didn't really expect Johanas to have any more than a mild interest in the tracks they'd found.
    Perhaps that's why he was so surprised when there was a knock on his door and he found the man, cigarette hanging from his lips and weight heavily to one side as he rested on a cane, asking about the tracks in the sand.

Monday, October 30, 2017

Musical Inspiration


Hello Lovelies,

In trying to work on the next entry for Little Island Tales, I ran into a bit of an issue. What issue you ask? Well...I HAVE NO INSPIRATION!!!

At least, not at the moment.

Ok, maybe it's not THAT bad. While I know where I want to go with the story and the steps that are being taken to get there, I'm recovering from one of my normal medical procedures and therefore my brain is just a bit muddy on the uptake (gotta love all them painkillers...buh). I currently can't quite put the sentences together (at least not with impact in a form I like) and so I wanted to take a more human moment to discuss writing and the processes behind it rather than leave you in the hard-vacuum of silence that I have had a bad tendency of doing the last couple months.

I've talked about inspiration before on this site and about the little things that help to push me (and theoretically other writers) to make the things they do. Everything from a wildly overactive imagination to the types of books and movies they read; just about anything in the world can serve as inspiration for the next tale or story. Everyone has their own thing that works at least sometimes to get their blood boiling and get the words flowing.

As such, today I wanted to address music and its role in my own inspirational process. For any of my regular readers, you know my biggest rock tends to be fear and horror. The things that scare me most are the ones that fascinate me the deepest. Monsters, creatures, cryptids, myths, aliens, etc. all lend their own unique touch to the things I create and this is something that is plainly seen in my works; so it raises the question of how does music provide inspiration?

Well, at least for me, music is a much stranger beast than reading a story or watching a movie. Whereas exposure to other general forms of inspiration give me an idea for content and story progression, music provides me a much more ethereal inspiration. I often find that it gives me a sense of emotion, tone, and environment more than anything else. In other words, it gives me a 'feeling' for the world at large in my writing. The music that I find really inspires me varies from day to day and week to week, however will often maintain a similar overall tone.

So what do I listen to?

Well, the common default that I often go back to when actively writing is Rock. There's a wide range here, so depending on the who and what, it may or may not contribute to the tone of any given story. I've often found that more Psychadelic Rock like The Doors tends to work well but, even more commonly, variations within the Metal genre are very effective too (particularly when writing hard action). Artists like Rob Zombie and Powerman 5000 have contributed to some of the more tense or chilling moments throughout my pieces. One artist in particular, Jonathon Young, has proven really entertaining for his Rock/Metal remixes of a number of different songs which have provided me a great deal of new depth to old pieces.

On the flipside, occasionally I need something more atmospheric; something I can hear and listen to but maybe with a deeper tone outside of rock songs. You need something more folky or ambient, something with less hit and more punch. More overall feeling behind it. I've found YouTube has been particularly wonderful for this because you can find a wide range on there. Some of my favorites include old folk songs like 'O Death' (which I've featured before) or 'Misty Mountains Cold' (from Lord of the Rings), Cajun inspired beats such as Kaleo's 'Way Down we Go' and Rag'n'Bone Man's 'Human', or even classical tunes such as Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata'. If I'm feeling particularly off, dark ambient music such as ones produced by JediMaster or Two Steps from Hell (Featured above) serve wonderfully to get me the ether mixing.

When all is said and done, music is less about showing us something to inspire us and helping us find that which is resting beneath the surface. It helps us pull up and out, rather than to internalize, those forces and things that would fill our minds to the brim until they overflow.

So, with that said...

What music inspires YOU most?

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Wattpad?


Hello Lovelies,

Today I wanted to take a moment and reach out to you. As many of my readers are not only consistent, recurrent individuals but also writers themselves, I figured it would be best to raise the question to the table and see what kind of response I got.

Do any of you know what 'Wattpad' is?

I had this website recommended to me on my last post. They recommended it as a means of increasing visibility of my works as it seems that some writers have been discovered through Wattpad for both book and movie deals. On further review via their Wikipedia entry, it seems they've been around for about 11 years and are a primarily mobile site. Further inspection reveals that they've probably got a couple million readers that are flipping through the respective pages.

So the question that immediately occurs to me: Should I trust them?

At its face, the idea of being available to a great number of readers that are out to READ my works is incredibly enticing. At the same time, I have nothing more at the moment than a simple recommendation.

As it stands, I accept that my stuff is improving but still needs work. Yet, at the same time, the ideas I have are my own and, even if I might royally screw up something here or there, it's my writing that I have the right to alter and correct. I'm immediately worried about the idea of submitting and posting my works on this random website under the guise my intellectual property might be forfeit because of the medium that it's being provided. In other words, I don't want to create copyright and ownership heart aches in the future.

With that said, I intend to investigate them further, however I trust your opinions and would like to add any first hand accounts to my consideration. Do any of you have experience with or exposure to Wattpad? Good stories? Bad stories? I want to know if it's worth it to work with this site.

Thank you.

- RB

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Little Island Tales - Part 6


    The remainder of the ceremony was spent as many moonless nights were: eating, drinking, dancing, and just celebrating life.
    Diego dedicated a large chunk of the initial evening feasting upon a massive suckling pig that the hunters had captured two days prior. Ka'lani, in turn, wiled away a great deal of time with Koula once the elder had been freed from her duties. They spoke at length regarding the spells that had been performed that night and Ka'lani even showed off the flute she was working on. And, at the end of the night, when the sun was cracking over the horizon, they both danced with Tamah and Fetu in a massive group with the rest of the village in final reverence of another month of safety.
    Only as the sun rose high past the edge of the sea did anyone finally stop for the night and retire.
    Retreating to their respective homes, the villagers would spend the remainder of the day resting. Some would be nursing headaches from the ceremonial wines and spirits. Many would simply be exhausted from the terror and festivities to do anything more than recoup themselves through the hottest part of the day.
    No one worked. Most didn't even leave their house until night, and, even then, they didn't venture further than the village circle for food and to help clean up from the prior evening.
    It was for that reason that it wasn't until a day and a half later than anyone stepped out past the fireline.
    Diego had just woken up an hour earlier and had already eaten a light breakfast of a few pieces of fruit and a husk of bread when he ventured out into the bright morning's sun. People were milling about, beginning to do their jobs but still in a slight stupor as everyone continued to regain their composure. Being younger, he had no specific tasks he had to complete, so he set off to find Ka'lani.
    He started by checking her family's hut but no one was there. He came across Tamah in the village center a few minutes later who told him that Ka'lani had gone to Koula's the night prior.
    "I think she said something about going there to work on her flute?" Tamah offered.
    "Her flute? Why would Grammy Koula know anything about flutes? She's not a wood worker."
    "I dunno." she admitted before shouting with exuberance. "Let's go find out!"
    Despite his best efforts, Diego couldn't dissuade the younger girl from joining him and, soon enough, they were both standing on Koula's meager porch knocking on the driftwood door.
    "Grammy Koula?" he called to no avail when she didn't answer. "Are you home?"
    "Maybe they went somewhere?" Tamah suggested.
    "Maybe. But why?" Diego asked, glancing towards the beach and the bubbling waves.
    The pair knocked a few times more but soon abandoned the little hut in favor of looking around. It didn't take long though, as a matter of minutes later Tamah noticed Ka'lani and Koula standing at the fireline with two of the village warriors. They were all staring at something in the sand.
    "Grammy Koula! Grammy Koula!" Tamah yelled happily as she ran up to the group.
    Koula offered her a friendly smile and a gentle hug, but seemed extremely distracted by whatever it was they had found. Ka'lani was as well.
    "Hey Ka'lani!" Diego said with a wave as he approached.
    "Hey." she replied dismissively, her attention on the ground and the two warriors.
    Both men, clad in heavy set leathers and brandishing sharpened blades, were muttering to each other.
    "So you're sure no one was out here?"
    "Who would leave the village on the morrow of the ceremony? Especially without us knowing?"
    "One of the hunters?"
    "And the boot prints? They're odd..."
    "What's going on?" Diego interjected.
    "Shh. Shh. Quiet, honey." Koula said to Diego with a soft pat on his shoulder.
    He frowned, but said nothing more.
    "We're not sure." one of the hunters commented. He was a big man by the name of Joun. He was bald with a scar that ran the length of his right arm; effectively dividing his Mālama tattoo in half.
    "Did you see anyone leave the village yesterday?" the second man asked. William was smaller and peppered with pockmarks and mangy brown hair.
    Diego shook his head.
    "No. But I was in my hut all day." he replied.
    "Same." Tamah said quickly, her normally joyous expression darkening slightly.
    "I don't remember anyone passing by." Koula admitted. "But I certainly wasn't looking for anyone either."
    Examining the sandy beach, Diego was able to vaguely make out what they were talking about. He could see a footprint of some kind. It looked a bit large and strangely shaped but definitely the sole some kind of shoe. The bottom of it had ridges in a weird design that had somehow still remained despite the softness of the sand.
    Several of the boot-prints could be seen moving from the beach in the direction of the mountains.
    "It has to be one of the hunters, right?" Ka'lani asked.
    "Maybe."
    "Could it have been one of the aka-akua?" Diego asked thoughtfully.
    William laughed but Joun simply shook his head.
    "No." he said shortly.
    "Well, why not?"
    "For one, they don't wear boots." William shot back.
    "For two, why don't you back up and take a second look."
    Diego glanced at Tamah, who simply shrugged her shoulders. Ka'lani had a mischievous look but said nothing.
    They backed up.
    "Ok?" he asked impatiently.
    "Do you see it?" William asked.
    Diego didn't. All he saw was sand and a vague boot-print.
    Ka'lani, same mischievous look plastered across her face, started to point something out. She highlighted a space that he'd actually been standing on when he walked up. It consisted of three, massive clawlike impressions and some sort of fourth dent near the 'back'. The bootprint was actually firmly inside of it and the clawmark was a good three or four times larger in comparison.
    He hadn't seen it because it was just too big initially to recognize as anything more than just a natural groove in the sand.
    "Yep." Ka'lani said with a growing smile at Diego and Tamah's gaping mouths.
    "We'll gather a few volunteers from the hunters." Joun said to Koula, ignoring the children's reaction. "See if we can find anything in the mountains. Maybe track them."
    "Of course." Koula agreed. "And I'll ask around the village. See if I can figure out if anyone was out and about."
    "Thank you." William said with a deep bow. "Let us know what you find."
    The adults exchanged their prayers and formalities and soon went their separate ways. Koula offered to allow Ka'lani and the others to accompany her, but they elected to stay on the beach. They were too fascinated with what had been left behind; both by the monster and by the man.


Thursday, October 19, 2017

Little Island Tales - Part 5


    "Hi guys!" Tamah whispered excitedly from behind them.
    Tamah, practically crawling over several other people, seemed to perch on Diego and Ka'lani's shoulders, covering them both in smears of recently carved charcoal. There were a few excited yelps and "Hey!"s, along with some disapproving stares from a couple of the village elders, but that didn't seem to slow the excited girl at all.
    "Sorry I'm late." she added quickly and started to try and push Ka'lani to the side.
    "Sit down." her mother in a quiet, yet firm.
    "I'm trying!" Tamah commented between grunts. "Ka'lani won't move."
    Ka'lani, inspired by her sister's desires, anchored herself in place. Diego received a well place elbow and a hip in the face for Tamah's efforts though.
    "I'm already sitting here." Ka'lani shot at her little sister. "Find another spot."
    "Friends! Family!" the Eldest called out from in front of the fire.
    "Move Kay!" Tamah tried again.
    "You move."
    "Sit. Down." Samaria said one more time, the warning in her voice palpable.
    "Fine! Finefinefine." Tamah remarked and quickly carved out a spot between Diego and his mother.
    There were a few excited whispers here and there, primarily for similar reasons as the final people found their spots and settled in as Tamah had. Diego, for the most part, ignored Ka'lani's little sister as she nestled into the sand next to him. Tula gave her a reassuring pat on the head.
    "Friends." the Eldest again called out, this time louder and with more expectation for their attention. "Family."
    This time, everyone listened, and quieted.
    Asim Walker was the oldest man in the village and colloquially referred to as 'The Eldest'. The title meant little with regards to actual decision making for the village other than a recognition of having ticked off the most years, yet there was still honor to it. While the Elders acted as a group to make help lead and govern, the four other elders, including Koula, Thomas, Jidalgo, and Hecate, had a tradition of allowing The Eldest to lead in the ceremonies. It was a matter of respect after all; anyone who managed to survive to such a ripe old age was clearly doing something right.
     Diego couldn't help but think that the man's stature helped a little as well when it came to commanding respect. Powerfully built despite his age, Asim had once been one of the most well-known and decorated warriors in the village and bore the scars to prove it. While his skin was a deep charcoal color and his hair was shock white, the man bore two, ragged claw marks that tore across his torso in bright red, swollen lines.
    "A parting gift from an aka-akua." he once told the children. "A way to remind me what hides in the dark."
    "Friends." the Eldest called in his deep, booming voice. "Let us bow our heads in prayer...and begin."
    One hundred and nine heads bowed deep til foreheads met sand. The action was smooth, practiced, and simultaneous between the young and the old, the wise and the stupid, women and men alike. They were one in their purpose and in their solidarity.
    "In the dark of the night..." Asim began.
    "The shadows wait." the village answered in one, tremulous tone.
    "And in the shadows..."
    "The aka-akua feed."
    "So may we never falter..."
    "And may the Pyre burn."
    "For we are the chosen of the Gods..."
    "And we will outlast the night."
    "Until the world stops turning..."
    "We shall outlast."
    "May the sun never set..."
    "And the light shine eternal."
    One by one, the villagers lifted their head from the sand.
    Despite having done this ceremony the same way every month, the initial prayer always had the same result. Sobriety. Sorrow. Frustration. Sadness. Determination. And many, many more emotions that couldn't be so simply calculated. Jaws were hard clenched, tears occasionally ran freely, some even shook, but all stared at the Pyre in quiet reverence as they mulled over the words they had just repeated.
    The ever burning flame was their single, stalwart defense. Even as the fog and the darkness threatened to choke out the torches that burned along the fireline, it was the Pyre that was their only true defense. No matter if anyone took their safety for granted throughout the month, laughed and played in the sunlight or even challenged death and walked freely in the moon-filled nights with a torch in hand, the prayer always reminded everyone exactly where they stood when darkness fell.
    While they may live on an island, the time they felt the most isolated was in that deep, darkness of the moonless night.
    "Rise, my friends." Asim said softly, though his voice carried across the crowd.
    It was not a command, but a request. A call to pull themselves from their stupor and rejoin the living as their minds drifted to the dead that wandered the black beaches of night.
    "As always," Koula began, speaking just as loud as Asim so all could hear, "we will start with the avatars."
    While their was no preset order, no decided upon way or enforced means of distribution, the village always followed the same path. Like a corkscrew working its way out, the innermost villagers stood and walked to the Pyre with their charcoal avatars in hand. The elders, who were standing in a star formation around the flames, passed their hands over the avatars and offered a blessing, or perhaps a spell of some kind, Diego had never known, before the villager tossed the avatar into the fire. This continued until the very last avatar at the very edge of the village center had been burned.
    Next, those with the with the name markers stood up. And then the smudge sticks after that. Each one was solemnly taken to the blaze, blessed, and then thrown into the roaring inferno. Every villager only carried one of the different tokens and, by the time the last smudge was burning, every single person had walked by the warm, searing light of the ever-burning fire.
    When the last person sat, the charcoal avatars were already smouldering and the recently tossed smudge sticks produced a thick, fog-like smoke that drifted up and out in every direction. The smoke seemed to try, and succeed, to fill every hole, to touch every pocket of air, and to expand like a slowly-inflating bubble that worked its way out to the fireline of the village.
    The incense burned their eyes and dulled their noses and senses, but no one would ever complain. While Diego had never dared watch it, he knew that once the smoke reached the fireline and the fog beyond, both clouds would stop; neither daring to move past the other. It would form a blockade against the evil that lay beyond.
    At least, that's what they hoped.
    The villagers seemed to hold their collective breath as a moment past.
    Then another.
    The fire burned and the smoke billowed and all around, the world was still.
    Until.
    SCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAACCCCCCCCH!
    The enraged cry of defiance was the signal they had waited for. The warriors who had been waiting at the edges of the group relaxed their tensed muscles, knowing that there would be no battle tonight. No fleeing into the dark to take the fight to the monsters the hid in the fog and the shadows.
    The spells had worked.
    The beasts could not get in.
    And so the village stood and they cheered. As long and as loud as each of them could.
    They were safe for another month.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Little Island Tales - Part 4



    "Don't be stupid, Kay." Fetu remarked as he examined a particularly long piece of sage.
    "It's not stupid." she shot back. "Just because you're too stupid to use them doesn't make them worthless."
    "At least I know them."
    "Hey!" exclaimed Diego at Fetu's aside.
    "He's right, you know." Ka'lani agreed. "Even if Fet' would rather fancy himself some kind of fighter, he at least knows the basic spells."
    "I know most of them!" Diego whined in retort.
    "Fine." she replied before pointing towards a few chocolate colored pods. "What are those."
    "Carob."
    "And its use?"
    "You burn it?"
    "Figure that out all by yourself?" Fetu commented with a growing grin.
    "You're not wrong." Ka'lani agreed. "What else?"
    "B...burn it?"
    Many emotions were felt. Diego smiled. Ka'lani frowned. Fetu laughed. People were hit with sage.
    "Carob is mostly used on the moonless nights to help protect us from the aka-akua but it's also promotes a healthy body. It's an integral part to more than a few of the feasts."
    "I knew that!"
    "Than why didn't you say it?"
    "It...didn't seem important. I didn't think that's what you were asking for."
    "Nah, you're right. She was asking about the rosemary." Fetu added quickly.
    "Shut up!"
    "You shut up."
    "Both of you shut up!" Ka'lani shouted.
    "He started it!" Diego shouted only to get smacked with a switch of sage again.
    Behind him, Diego could hear someone clearing their throat. A very solid 'Ahem'. Glancing back, Samaria had stopped working and was watching them quietly. That eyebrow resting in a comfortable, threatening arch that promised nothing less than a painful death.
    "Sorry." he muttered quickly and dipped his head only to Fetu's increased laughter.
    "You should be." Ka'lani said, ignoring that his fear was directed at her mother and not actually her.
    She quickly added. "Stupid."
    Diego opened his mouth to respond but immediately thought better of it.
    "Now what's this one?" Ka'lani continued, pointing to a large bundle of asafoetida.
    They continued like that for nearly an hour, working to build the smudge sticks as they reviewed everything in them. They moved slower than some of their peers, and almost everyone else had stood up and moved to other projects, but Diego was able to identify the different herbs in the smudge sticks by the time they were done. He had already known the white sage, garlic, carob, rue, rosemary, and asafoetida, but the ones he had forgotten were the cinquefoil, juniper, and something called 'St. John's Wort'.
    While Diego had no idea who St. John was, he couldn't help but think, 'at least the guy had a plant named after him'.
    Through the entire process, Ka'lani explained the various properties of each plant, what they did, how they interacted with each other, and what other purposes they served.  She even explained that, while what they were building were called 'smudge sticks', the sheer number of ingredients they used and how they were used was different than a more traditional version and, in reality, they shouldn't even be called a smudge at all. Diego wanted to know what they should be called. She had no idea.
    And, all throughout the lesson, Fetu added his own snide commentary.
    "And if you do it allll right, then no shadow monsters will eat us." he said with a sly smile.
    "Fetu!"
    "Ka'lani!" he shot back.
    "Well, if I screw up, at least you will be the first one eaten." Diego snapped back.
    "Why's that?" Fetu asked.
    "Because you're dumb enough to think you can fight them."
    Fetu glared at him with the first, real warning of the night, but Diego decided to change the subject as quick as he could.
    "I do have one more question." Diego said, directing his attention towards Ka'lani and ignoring her brother's simmering wrath. "I know that you keep calling these spells...but why? I thought spells involved, I don't know, magic words and symbols? Runes and such. All we're doing is burning plants once a month to keep away the monsters."
    "I don't know." Ka'lani confessed as she picked up a small handful of ground herbs. "That's just what mom has always called them."
    Diego finished tying off the smudge stick he was working on as Ka'lani continued thoughtfully.
    "I know Grammy Koula always said that spells were magic and that magic is power in any form. It's not so restrictive in its nature. A power over the world. Over the minds and the spirits of man and beast and monster alike. Even the aka-akua bend in the face of magic."
    "In that case, why isn't a weapon considered magic?" Fetu asked in a surprisingly genuine tone.
    "Why would it be?" Diego asked.
    "I can change a man's mind with a threat. Break his spirit with a blow. I can even stop an aka-akua if I strike it right. They bend to my will and the will of a weapon, don't they?"
    "You've been hanging around the warriors too long." Ka'lani remarked. "You can't kill an aka-akua."
    "No." Diego retorted, ignoring the opportunity to mock Fetu. "That's a good question. Why can't a weapon be magic?"
    Ka'lani sighed.
    "I don't know. I guess maybe it is? Grammy Koula told me that magic wasn't limited to just mystic words and phrases. It's in everything and its power depends on how you're connected to it and how you use it. Just as the spirits are scared of the smell of our smudges, we can use those same ingredients to heal the sick. They have power that isn't limited to a single purpose..." she said, her eyes drifted towards her twin. "...so maybe you have a point?"
    Fetu, who had apparently expected an argument, seemed taken aback. He stared at her for a moment before simply nodding and agreeing.
    "You know," Diego added quickly, "wouldn't a wand count as both a weapon and magic?"
    "Yea." Fetu agreed. "And by definition, wouldn't a club be a really big wand?"
    Ka'lani grimaced playfully and then started laughing, joined quickly be Diego and Fetu. Fetu, as if to punctuate his point, hefted a nearby chunk of driftwood that one of the younger children had been using as a seat.
    "I am the wizard of the seas!" declared Fetu. "Fear my wrath!"
    The children laughed more and Fetu proceeded to point the chunk of wood at various things and make explosions sounds with his mouth.
    Once they had calmed down, Diego glanced over at Ka'lani again.
    "I guess you've picked up a lot from Grammy Koula." Diego considered.
    "Yea...I suppose I've been spending more time with her than I realize." she agreed.
    "Do you think you'll apprentice under her? I don't think she has had any under-studies."
    Ka'lani said nothing but her eyes drifting down to the flute at her side for just the barest of moments.
    Diego was going to ask what that look meant, however he was cut off.
    BOOOOOOOM
    The sound echoed through the center of the village and bounced offer the mountains and buildings. Several large rawhide drums had been set up around the Pyre while the children worked and many of the men, women, and children who had been working were beginning to gather in a circle around the massive fire.
    "Come on." Ka'lani said with a soft touch on his arm.
    The three of them quickly gathered closer to the fire with the rest of the villagers. He didn't often like to sit too close to the Pyre because of the heat and the smoke that got into his eyes and made them water. Still, in lieu of their recent conversation, he couldn't help but want to sit a little closer to the light. He was right next to Ka'lani and Fetu who sat between his and their mothers and right in plain few of the village elders as they entered the village circle.
    Behind them, the slowly gathering fog creeped towards the edge of town like a murky soup that only added to the darkness of the world beyond the village's limits; cut only by the roaring blaze.