Story Space

2010-04-10T21:45:00.002-07:00

Fated, caustic, independent (Tyrophagi)
Casually discarded, and often ignored (Frondpass)
Unimportant (Klu’no)
Simplistic (Paxa)
Unworthy (Wech’sa)
Unwanted (Yung)
Unneeded (Lormuun)
Why do they mock me so, Oh Jaxxa? Why do they mock me so?

- excerpt from Vol. 2, journal of St. Mirab, the Lesser Justice, translated from the original Hyphaxian manuscripts. Passage refers to Mirab’s Prayer (see footnote). Often spoken by soldiers before battle.

2010-04-10T21:45:00.001-07:00

Glittery trees through the morning dew by way of a rising sun. Catch that early morning breeze in my left hand. Let it wrap and coil and furl itself around and about until I’m ready to let it out into my right hand. And reach out with my right hand, out past the trees and up the mountainside to where I joined with the space of this place, and plunge into it, back to where those towers lay. And up those rose-gold streaming sunlit pipevines and climb high, back into the deepwell vacant hole of my old life back there and touch…Gently touch and caress those absent vapors.

Long hand, right hand of the primary, touch it, feel the wind and how its purity has been engulfed by the nature of those towers. Wrap and pulse it back, back through the gold gate down to the canal where the leaves blew from nowhere and back through the break between worlds and back to me. Coil back up around my left hand once more.

Long tendril out from my left index and across my nose. Inhale. What do I smell? I spit out the bitter and the sour. I am not after those tastes. What’s left? Summer smells, faint. Of bright reds and streaming purples. Rose. And lilac. Oh Angassa, what did you do?

Did she know? It was too coincidental, wasn’t it? Oh Angassa. My guide…

We spent a month there, gathering the things that were needed to provide an appropriate passage. I trusted her to choose what we needed, even if she didn’t fully appreciate it. Or at least she didn’t seem to appreciate what was being collected. What happened that first night? It was more significant than I had understood at the time, I’m sure now…

2010-04-10T21:43:00.000-07:00

This sleep awakens, from the colored depths. And after the nightfall wash, the stars grow quiet and a silent blandness descends on the forest. Even the night bird has ceased her lament. I am awake again, in a land I do not know.

I can’t say I’m surprised. My old life with the six…five. No. With the six. That was there, it was still there, it was still happening. I could prevent it. I could stop it. I could help them. I could help myself. I could undo it all. Tug the threads and watch the whole tapestry unravel before my eyes and then, then I’d see the red skies of my homeland once more.

And Angassa? She was there. My guide through this ordeal. Was she a demon herself, of the world I had left? She was the one who had picked out the moun’il a’ja, the objects of our escape from the world of battles and of war. Her fairy books and a stuffed animal. Scents too. Lilac and rose.

I paused on considering this.

A stuffed animal. Hound-like. What was that beast which haunted us, hunted us in that forest primeval? A great hound of the fairies.

Scents and smells and the narcotic air in the rose-gold towers too. Was there lilac and rose underneath the other cloying odors? I wonder…

2010-04-03T10:37:00.007-07:00

A crisp, early day mountain walk. A sun high in the sky. A runoff stream trickles down a slope. An afternoon sun, while a figure pauses to drink. A tree-line down below. An evening sun as a figure enters a forest. A bank of rolling fog. A heavy mist descends. Bae’eun joxinca. A fire is lit. A circle is drawn. A woman gathers a mass of leaves and needles.

It is too cold and I am naked. Weave the leaves together. Ruun’onkwala ser em pax’i. Now like leather. A coat on my shoulders and a long dress of brown.

A night bird sings at a darkening sky. A figure lies in a circle with a beating heart of fire. A feeling of warmth pervades. A quiet night, filled with a moon’s light that touches everything. Long shadows touch the edge of a circle and recoil. A figure watches and, satisfied, drifts off to sleep.

Is this a dream? Have I just been dreaming of her? Of my guardian and my ward…?

I catch myself. Maybe the dark voice in my fever dream was right. I lie away my failures. Convince myself they’re not real, like they belong to somebody else. A different life, a different time, a different world. Not me. Not mine. Not mine.

I’ve ran so many times. So many times from so many problems. So easy to do, too. I can run anywhere. I don’t have to care. I don’t have to care about anybody but myself. I can slip away and lose myself a million times over and never have to worry about what came before. So easy. So easy.

The scars linger though, don’t they? How many have I lost? Six became five. We became me. And she was lost.

2010-04-03T10:37:00.005-07:00

Peaceful contract. In a wash aware of the simplicities present in my situation. It glides about, thoughtless and carefree. This place…it is thoughtless and carefree and delves into the heightened pleasure-sense awareness.

I muse about the mad sun, far distant now. Were I to join with the madness, would I see the beauty in it? Or would it still be the maddening streaming lightglaze upon my eyes and mind and singsong beauty wreaked havoc upon my mind and soul until I lost it all into the huff of a humming tune.

I could hear the drums playing on, with their endless rata tat tat tum tum drum drum sounding like a gunshot from under my nose and ears and I sat in rapture. The beat of the drum, from the grass to the pipe to the water to the far distant tower. It had its own mood for this place and I thought I recognized the new sound in my far distant memory. Of clothes now gone, of a body clad in sky, and the grass stains all over my arms and legs.

No place. No place for me. No tree despite the leaves. And I recognized that I must leave this place behind. I was at risk no more. Now dark voice, let’s even the score between us.

Circle. Hy’uun en ap’Ondroxia. Dirt cascades away and the grass lifts up to the towers. Thank you. I won’t forget this kindness dear demon. Coddling me, keeping me safe while the sky weakened above me and faded back into black backed nothing.

My circle was out and I couldn’t hold myself to this place any longer. Cast. Cast out against the wall of this place. The gold and rose and clearing I was on. Cast out and touch the edges. Edge away from it. Find the new. Find the new. Find the newly breached wall. Wall in the westward falling grace. Grace in the greatest of ease. Easy. And out. Touch it. The wall, touch it all and find the sour sounds. The sounds of freedom and of your once captivity and hear it all in its full capacity.

Drink, drink it down and hear it drown down the sound until you find yourself on the ground once more. A soft, sidelong thing. Full of worms in a cocoon of dreams and wispy smoke. And even that passes on by. Ach’un. They draw me further on. What are they playing at? Laughter. Mirth. At my passage, I’ve made the children laugh and sing and sigh their breath and I am warmed by their glow and heed their call to follow where they go and I drift past them into the places beyond them. Thank you again demons. Demons of the world behind.

And what saturnine wonder is this now? What was it that I was after that I feel like I falter in its pursuit? My ward. My guide. My Angassa. It was so easy to forget her. Too easy.

I open my eyes onto the face of a mountainside and I sigh. I am no closer.

2010-04-03T10:37:00.003-07:00

And I was awake in grass. Lush green velvet retreated from my body and my back stung still. Fever sweat too. I didn’t want to sit up, but did anyway.

Nobody out here with me. No narcotic smoke either. Gentle breeze along the water. A leaf blown across the water’s surface. No trees though. Strange. Golden clouds above, and to either side was the endless sky.

The sun at the horizon had shifted. The mad sun above was far distant, and the other sun had started a long trek to displace it.

2010-04-03T10:37:00.001-07:00

A naked figure huddled in a window frame. A breeze from below. Hij’ala fex’un. A figure rolling off the edge. A figure drifting downwards towards a canal. A parasol flight. A woman lands next to a clearwater canal and grass. A naked woman stretches out and joins with the grass. A patch of grass sleeps.

More mad dreams of far off places, only half-remembered. A plane of glass and dull brass filled with mountain-shards and ribald bronze rivers. Slept there too, didn’t we…I? Was as bad as now, then.

And a place of the deep sounds against grey ground. Ringing ringing ringing, like the whole world was singing with a soundfurious noise. Spent my time there too. Spent and spent until I was. And I loved it. Every moment. I was lost and found there so many times over. Was it still there? Should find it again someday.

Violent pause and a hardstop image in my head and hands, as they both felt the edge of that lastword. That was the place to be and I couldn’t help my curiosity from running rampant in the place. I was young though, and it showed on my face. My bright eyes and curious stare. And you weren’t there yet, were you brother? That was two lifetimes ago. Couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help it.

2010-04-03T10:36:00.002-07:00

Golden skies, above and below. The suns shine and the clouds catch their light. My life has ended a thousand times, but never am I the wiser for every death. It’s like it all was a test, an unknown gauntlet thrown down in front of me every time. A trial and I was bereft of a jury. I needed nothing of the sort, but that left me in worse straits than I was originally.

But, where was I now? I couldn’t escape casually. The very essence of this place stayed my hand, though I didn’t really appreciate that yet. I hadn’t tested the bars of my cage. This was a game and I was being driven towards extreme ends. If I wanted what I sought, I’d have to change my thoughts around.

The swirling sun, the swirling madness in the sky above with the rose and gold and blue around. Those clouds, those swishing swirling clouds. Was that it? Seek the sun, the mad sun and the sky would unfurl around my hair and feel the wind and sky and sea and see the full scope of the horizon above these golden towers? Glittering towers, full of foul smoke and the mad folk who drank down their narcotic air, and who would then stare at the mad sky above?

2010-04-03T10:36:00.001-07:00

I fall. Should’ve stuck to the water. Didn’t. Paid the price. I was almost lost back there, and I’m certainly lost out here. My Voice is too weak to call, and I have nothing to draw a circle with or on. Angassa, I hope you are safe wherever you are. I’m sorry I broke my promise to you. I close my eyes and wait for the ground.

But I don’t hit it. I twist and look down and there is no ground for me to hit. More towers and clinging, climbing vinepipes around them. What madness is this place? I can’t…

I’m not going to die. I’m not lost. I’m just falling in a world without ground. I hold on to that. I’m not lost, I’m just falling. It becomes my life. I am just falling. And breathe. Calm and cool and measured. I will not hit the ground. There is no ground.

Breathe.

There is no ground. Vuun. And I stop falling. A sun gleams off a rose tower to my lower left. I reorient myself so the sun lies on the horizon. I look up and see the mad sun swirl glimpsed at back in my old life amongst the people with sharp teeth and insect eyes. I cannot stay in the open like this. That swirl will drive me to insanity as quickly as the vapors would’ve.

I drift towards a tower and find a sill and overhang to perch on. I am safe from that mad sun.

2010-04-03T10:33:00.001-07:00

Ok, been a while since I've updated this thing. I had lost the voice for the story, and it took a while to find it again. The new entries start after this one.

2009-12-03T18:15:00.001-08:00

Witchy waxed up in candlelight oh so bright in her shuddering world, so high above the sweet, sweet ground below. I want to show her my melodious song in torturous delight. Oh what a sight to behold ye fairest one, ye pepper cauldron, ye sack of houndswill. Carve up your cravings and carve up your world for my feast and sit at the table like a good little lamb. Affixed in her mind, her soundless world, a blue world tempest in fear-like wonder of an endless summer. Capable of such that you wish you knew, but she’s gone now, and lost to you. Ye haggish sort, ye ribald tramp, ye lost Unqualla!

Stop taunting me…

My fever dream abates, though my body still feels heavy. My pinpricked back is tender. Poisoned, my guess. From the fairies. I can still feel the narcotic smoke. My hands are lumps, my throat is gravel, my head is a child’s toy. I lift myself up enough to strip off my clothes. I lay down next to a porthole window and watch a rose-gold cloud drift by my rose-gold room. I am out before another passes.

Tripped up in a trap. Snapped shut against your neck, did it? Watch yourself. Watch yourself fail to bring her back. Gone. Gone forever. Forever and ever and gone she is and gone she will be. Your light, your life in her hands and she listens to you dream and sleep while she wastes away. Oh cruel fate. What have I done to deserve this fate? You’ll save face. You’ll lie her away, just like everybody else who has crossed your path. Oh yes, your past lies open to me, and your future is my own. And, oh yes, you are hers and she is mine and whatever pitiful watch words you pitch out, I will match and defeat. Cry, cry, cry for momma.

Can’t…

I do not know how long I’ve been out. I am no longer alone. Other portholes. Vacant people watching outside with their wild eyes. Hookah pipes, unlit as yet. Other’s milling. Idle chatter. What’s the matter? I am not noticed, but I’m uneasy. A bowl is lit and people gather around. The smoke fills the room and I cannot hold my breath long enough.

Twist in the breeze, drift like a leaf down the riverbrook, ye broken sort. Hard to port and find your haven amongst your peers, your lovers and your devils. Call down the sky and wade through swamps waist high as they all sink into the muck. I’ll even wish you luck, as you’ll need it where you're going you whore. Go back to them. Go and languish in your fury, your sultry, impotent fury. Twist in the breeze and leave them all to me, to me, to me. Recant your vow, ye vacant cow and drop the veil from your face and see the world forevermore cast in bright, bright shadow. Laugh it up. Laugh and play and sing and laugh. It’s all fun for your new found life.

Stop it…

I rouse myself, against my bitter body. My world is too pleasant. Thyn…My mouth, my mind. Cannot keep them together. Focus. Focus, focus. See it. Hold it. Breath it out. Thynnexa ap’Loxa. My porthole life cracks opens and I am drawn into a world of wind and cloud and rose colored light. I fall and breathe freely.

2009-12-03T16:29:00.001-08:00

One and two and four and six,
Little Katie Johnson’s gonna get sick
One and two and four and five
Little Katie Johnson’s probably gonna die.
Here’s a fig tree, where her heart once was
Here’s a peach tree, where her stomach once was
And here’s an apple tree, where her brain once was
Eat them all up before she’s gone
But don’t get sick
Otherwise, you’ll end up just like Little Katie Johnson
- Abigail McCallister’s Collected Children’s Stories

2009-12-03T16:05:00.001-08:00

Perfume accosts my nose next. I gag. Cloying smoke drifts. Hookahs and pillows. Scintillating ruby mosaics swim past as I look for a ladder. A nude bather in front of me. Multi-faceted eyes, a vacant smile and sharp teeth. I am not important.

Cheers sound and trumpets blow and fountains explode and the ceiling opens up to a swirl of heaven and a far distant impossible light. I shield my eyes and dive under the water again, away from the sickness above. Huucha jinn ax ar’Ron. The water is easier to breath than the air. I find a drain instead.

A decorated pipe…A bather swims past, towards the madness behind me…The walls are aflame. Incandescent. This is not a place for me or my kind…I find a way down and dive…A side room, half in water, half not. A couple are in the throes of passion. I swim beyond…Bubbles. My nose is again filled with sickening sweetness…Window to the outside world...A full sun at the horizon. Towers and pipes, with canals below. How far up am I? Cannot tell…A group of frogs chasing something that looks like a rabbit. I am paid no heed…And down…A door ahead. I open it to fresh air, and the water stays behind. I release my lungs and vomit. My exhaustion overtakes me.

2009-12-03T11:56:00.001-08:00

The woods surround and danger is on the breeze. I reach out and sense my fair attackers to be on the hunt. Past them, towards my charge and her voice to my ears did come. Dutiful. And scared. And fading inbetween. Good. Whatever might threaten her beyond would pale to staying with me.

An animal trail. A thickening forest above, a thinning undergrowth below. A snare. A figure is wrenched sideways. A sprained ankle. A person tears themselves out of a thicket of thorns. An arm filled with deep scratches. Ilaang ou’Seur. A tree crashes in the distance. A howling voice hurtles. A figure limps towards a creek, while the air starts to shimmer.

Let her at least be safe wherever she may have ended up. Please. Give us that at least.

I am pursued again. What hellish place is this, that a simple traveler cannot traverse in peace? I will not make it to the stream. I will find Angassa, but must guarantee my safety. Trees are shaking and rocking, bending and snapping as the circle surrounds me. Tooth ahead, to taste the way. Claw behind to propel with power. Cold laughter on the wind. Fetid breath on the wind. Beast hurls itself at me like the wind. I chance a glance and see a behemoth on two legs wearing a ghostly, laughing veil.

I am sorry I could not reach you in time little one.

All draws in, as breath. Surround me. Truschia ap’Ongold. All exhales, as breath. You are on my mind. D’uulit ex yun. I am sent reeling, spinning, whirling as the monstrosity fails to connect with my fragile ring.

Mosaics. Mosaics and pillars and bathers in glory. None notice my arrival as I lift my head out of the water.

2009-12-02T18:48:00.001-08:00

Gossamer tempest at my back. Laughter, menacing and vindictive. I’ve hurt their plaything. Pinpricks from a thousand tiny arrows as I run. Caxxa un gossa! I find my Voice and turn to face the storm. Ap’Droxia! I release…

Trees. Trees and branches, leaves and vines and ferns and spores engulfing the many, many flittery things about my head and shoulders and neck and face and sucks them into the soil and blows away on the wind. Again. Release! I feel it rising and up and through to my shoulders and out my mouth into the heart of the thing which threatens to overwhelm me. Release! Ap’Droxia! I feel it ripping, tearing, bleeding, pleading voices from a million directions to please stop, just please stop stop sorry afraid never again to harm the witch and just please drift away from us wee little one, all alone and lost and confused and scared. Thought you could escape me but…

The airy storm abates. That voice…

Left and right hand hold my trophies. A bit of jaw with a canine and half a paw with a claw and a half. Of this world, but not. Better tickets out than what I gave my ward.

My ward...

Angassa…I must find her!

2009-12-02T09:31:00.000-08:00

A misty ground, while leaves crackle underfoot. A screech in the distance. A light rain while the world turns grey. An earthy smell, crisp and clean and untouched. A tinkle of a bell and subtle song. A laugh. A world not as unabsent as one thought. Caraflexxa lo ap’Unim…

The child stops. She heard it too. The forest’s green brightens and deepens ahead. The woods glow unearthly. Eyes. Eyes upon up. Smiling eyes. Small eyes. Laughing eyes. The glow brightens and a swirl of dust and leaves shows us our watchers. Fairies. Swirling, dancing, weaving, darting about us in a gossamer wind. Oh ye ethereal dancers, what is this joy you’re taking in us? We continue walking. Our entourage grows.

A distant trumpeting and wailing. A tree falls far in the distance. A sense of building urgency. A tree falls nearer. A quickened pace while the world’s green glow grows. A crashing and charging sound approaches. An eruption of tittering laughter. Epherus tyrie ap’Droxia! A tree acts as a shield, a fortress, against the speeding beast.

“Angassa! Stay low! Stay hidden! When I distract it, I want you to run and find that stream we’ve been walking towards! Walk in it and against the current. Remember home and repeat ‘Angassa ap’Ryvol’. Say it!”

“An…Angassa ap’Ryvol.”

“I will catch up. I will find you.”

A riot of laughter as a fortress of trees shudders. A child is frightened. A teacher walks out and lets loose her Voice against the monster. A child runs.

En Furia! En Furia Ap Ex’Condossa! I start with the ground. The grieving ground up from below to snare the pretty, snap shut and cold against its furry, scaly, moist hide in the shadows while she runs, girl. Run and let not the laughter follow her towards the waters.

I match its eyes while it is trapped, and it looks back, malevolent and wicked, full of intelligence. My gossamer wind wraps around it and pulls it free.

Snort. Laugh. Licks its lips. Circles around. Speaks with impassioned hunger. “Huuungry. Will taste good.” The giggling abates in anticipation.

Even tone. Calm. “Go. You will not have me.” Ondonnus exeter.

Tongue snaps out. “Will have you. Huuungry.” Paws the ground and digs in to pounce.

My hand snaps out and grabs a strand of the sheer lace cloud. I squeeze the tiny figure until she screams. Screeching, tearing, screaming in terror and fury. My thumb under her chin while she tries to bite. Pressure upwards. I circle around while the beast pauses, unsure.

“Your goodwill will fade with these.” I gesture to the glittering fog. “Forevermore hungry.” Calm, even voice. A raised eyebrow. My thumb is bleeding. Drip, drip, drip, As I walk around it.

Howl and roar. “Lies!”

“Listen to her. She’s furious. She’s in pain. And it’s your fault.” The sheer, shimmering cloud grows tighter around the circle the two of us form. Drip, drip, drip.

Roar and howl! “NO!”

“Yes dear beast.” My pace quickens. I cannot hold it much longer. The cloud grows stormy. Drip, drip, drip.

Snarl. “Too clever! Dinner now!” It leaps as the last drop falls. Ru’cag! As its muzzle falls off its face. As its paws and claws and teeth and blood drop around me. The storm breaks as I let loose the lightning bolt I am holding. My eyes shut tight. My hand finds tooth and claw. I run, blind, into the woods.

2009-12-01T20:43:00.001-08:00

A strange city is approached by two travelers. A place to stay. A place is occupied. A pair walks about the city. A teacher teaches a student, while a student leads a teacher. A shop of toys, one day. A parasol. A hound-like creature, stuffed. A shop of books, another day. A children’s book is bought. A book on fairies. A perfumer, a third day. A vial of lilac. A dram of a sweet rose-like essence. A girl is happy.

I am on guard. Angassa is happy though. These people, the wandering mob of individuals outside, they would descend on us if they saw either of our true faces. The goods we had spent the better part of a month picking out were aligned around me. A candle is lit. Angassa sits at my back. I call out. Hephexa wyti.

Dribble drabble sky’s in rubble, you’re in trouble you sneaky naughty girl who isn’t where she belongs. You looked too far too fast too deep too dark and now you’ve found yourself in my space and domain without your feeling freshening cast aside and fronds.

What voice was that? My eyes open and I’m…we’re in a forest. Angassa, and her toys are with us.

“W…what is this place? What happened to our room?”

“You remember me telling you I could do special things? Like how I changed our faces?” She nods. “This is another one of those special things I can do.” I drop our facades. “We can wear our own faces again.”

She trembles against my arm. I am sorry little one. This is how it is.

This place smells old. There is no hint of sentient influence on the breeze through the undergrowth. I reach out and…find only animal life and plants. No need to press deeper yet.

“Mirim?”

“Yes, little one?”

“We should go. I don’t like where we are. Momma always told bad stories about things that lived in the woods.”

I am on guard again. Vircondin tre plipol ap’Wecco.

My voice is calm and relaxed. “Let’s see if we can find a stream somewhere.” All is well as she hooks her arm around mine.

2009-12-01T17:45:00.003-08:00

An LO, didst the heavens open up upon the world and unleashed their fury!
The peoples cried out!
The rivers ran dry!
The seas boil’d!
An the world were cover’d with dust!

- Dun’nugas 2:14

They were dark times then and they had gripped us all in their grasp. Wherever one looked, one could see how the world was falling apart, and how the contrivances and conveniences of their so called “modern life” had left them bereft and nearly soulless. The songs played and beckoned them towards a supposedly better life. But we, we who didn’t go, we knew better. We knew they were falsehoods and how they lied to us. We - who had eaten of the fruit and drunk of the wine - we could see past their falsehoods and into their hearts. And we could see the demons behind the placid, friendly masks. And while we hid, they ravaged our world, for we held not their power.

- Aaris Gongally, transcribed speech to a group of students, ca. 663 OX

2009-12-01T17:45:00.001-08:00

A starry sky with strange constellations. Twin moons. Pale eyes watch down on a speck of bright on a field of dark. Angassa lies beneath a scavenged cloak. I tend a fire. Pueresscent op maxina.

A strange birdsong is carried across the plain. Bright morning. Fiery eyes watch down on a smoldering speck on a field of dark. Angassa stirs from beneath a scavenged cloak. I am tired, but have not rested. Maxina in en ep ar’Foullo.

An abandoned latrine is located. More scavenged food for breakfast. We walk…where do we walk?

“So little miss, where do you think we should go?”

“I don’t know. I liked it better by the sea though. It smelled better.”

Smelled better.

We head back towards the sea. Inland. Why inland? I didn’t ask. I assumed. We might have already been reunited, my home, my jail, my city and my life as a warden. I should have asked her. Trust. Trust her. My guide. My guide.

A steady pace. An inland breeze. A smell of sea once more. A cry from a bird. A rocky shore. An empty road down the coast. A smell of distant cooking things. A roadhouse in the distance. Roox’xin yoor ep irata. A pair of native refugees approaches, mother and daughter. A fair greeting from an innkeeper. An offer of work in exchange for food and drink and a bed.

2009-12-01T17:44:00.008-08:00

An easy walk down a hillside. A battlefield still smoulders. A flock of ravens. A kingly feast. A sword received from a dead solider. A sidearm given by another. A sack of food. Curra curra curra. A child waits for its returning guardian. A meal while walking. A somber line of people ahead. A frightened line of people nearing. An inhumane line of people stopped. A running mob. A child’s hand grasps tighter.

Fear. Thick on the air and it fills my nose. A line is all I can do. A line between me and my accusers. My frightened, frightened accusers. I am their demon, their scapegoat, their source of sorrow and fear and despair. All heaped upon me, in front of me, around me.

The line completes itself and my circle is safe. It will hold while I call out for help. The birds. I hate them and they me, but I call out for help and they arrive. I am sorry for adding to the misery, but it could not be helped. All is well. Angassa starts sobbing while the people run and scatter and shatter and dive down away from the black furious cloud which I have brought down on them. I am their demon, their attacker and they are justified. And I am sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

2009-12-01T17:44:00.007-08:00

A tide was rising. A flock of sea birds flew overhead. A strong breeze, from land to sea. A pace that matched the thrum of the earth below. A child that followed dutifully. A pair of low suns in the sky. An achieved vantage. A grim view. A scorched battlefield. A line of refugees. A scratched, black sky. Yin turn yun ocxiis. A child clinging to my waist.

Where did we end up? What was this place, this place so very distant from what I’m familiar with? In and out, breathe in and out. You’ve been distant. You’ve been far. Find the way back. A game. A game for a child or children. Us. Back west. Call out, cast out, find the way. Find the path, the openings, the gates and portals. Find the pits of sand and snakes and delve in deep. Seek and find, find and seek the ways.

What of the child? She was of my own, and she was my guide. She was my guide? A child.

“What’s your name?” My voice, gentle. I needed it, but also wanted to know it.

“Angassa. Who are those people?” Her fear hadn’t abated. Her voice had trembled.

“I don’t know, Angassa. That is a very good question. Do you think we could go and ask them?” Angassa. A greeting, a remark of friendship and warm and comfort and of home. She had been picked. Touched by song, but picked for what?

“They might not like us.”

Shrewd too. Good guide, deep earth, demon though you might be. “I think we should go and ask them. We’re lost and it’s good to ask for directions when you’re lost.”

“Ok.” My hand was snatched away. She was home while with me.

2009-12-01T17:44:00.005-08:00

We walk, the child and I, and I learn about her plight. I learn and hear about her lost mother and her father that left to go find her and never returned back to their house and how scared she was and how she cried herself to sleep and how she kept hidden during the day while the scary people came into her house and stole away her brother and sister and her cat ran away and she was all alone in her house scared, scared of the world and everything in it and wishing she was away from it all and safe and how she woke up in the cave with her battery powered lamp.

A far distant, indistinct echo. A stronger breeze. A smell of salt and water on the air. A growing light. A trickle of water down the wall. A sound of waves crashing. A light beckons. An ocean revealed. Quon nogossa risen ru op curra. A giving of thanks. An odd look from a child. “You talk funny.”

“How did you get here?” Evenly voiced, measured in pitch, exacting in pace. It does not respond how I expect.

“I dunno. I guess just kinda woke up in there. I was too scared to go...” A gasp and a shriek. A whimpered: “Why are there two suns in the sky?”

Hellagha in en ap’Droxia! You damn creatures! You damn beasts of the earth and sea and sky! You demons! I asked for a name, not a conveyance! Light and trees and air and surf abounds all around and We. Are. Lost. My Voice is unleashed as my fury breaks against the stone and a stair is carved out into the sky and sea and the world around me struggles against it in a vainglorious attempt to maintain itself and I throw my full self, my soul and mind, my body and tooth and nail into gaining the ground I wish.

To no avail.

“Stop it! You’re scaring me!”

My knees meet the ground, resigned to natural forces of this world that is not my own. We must walk.

“I am sorry child. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just…I’m scared too. I am sorry.” I mean it. Whether by their own doing or not, our enemies had ridded my world of another warden.

2009-12-01T17:44:00.003-08:00

“Are you all right lady?” It is speaking to me.

I stand and smell the air. A deep place, deep in the earth, deep below where the sun calls out. Crisp and clean, damp and dank. A breeze from somewhere. It’s dark and the child is holding a light.

“You look lost lady”. My head snaps towards it.

“Where are we?” Fury held in check and displaced by calm. It is innocent.

“I don’t know. I’ve been here a while, ever since my mom and dad left me.”

I lean in and sniff. I can smell the music lingering about it’s shoulders and back. This one has been touched. Abaang’ust fier en Trotsyll. I relax. Can’t I just relax? I can’t just relax. I need to get back. I don’t know where to start.

I scratch a circle in the…

“What are you doing lady?”

I scratch a circle in the…

“Lady, what are you doing?”

“Quiet!” My voice rings true with the cavern and the child is silenced.

I scratch a circle in the ground with my foot. I enter, with it, with the cave, with the ground above and below. I ask only for a guide to the sky, to the fresh air, to the sun and moon and stars and clouds and rain. I am amused. You already have it. It is with me? How could you be so blind? Are you not aware? Are you deaf? Are you blinded by your one instance of care and tenderness in such a hard world? I am abashed and break the circle.

A child rocking herself. A resigned sigh. “Come on, I’ll take you home.” A relieved look. A hand is offered and received. Angassa. A light is held aloft. A pair of figures start to walk and talk through a cavern of chalk.

2009-12-01T17:44:00.001-08:00

I do not know where I am. I cast outwards and search. I do not recognize the place where I am. I push harder, past the arbitrary limits I’ve always set, past any semblance of anchored reality I’ve known, past it all into the great outwards flailing of ways and arms and trees and oddness know what else sky falls group ground up in for that in firey ways cast cast cast out again and out and screaming fleeing freeing clear and passive. Light.

Ap’Intruex unim pasqualae. There is a child sitting with me. I do not know where I am, and there is a child sitting with me.

2009-12-01T17:43:00.006-08:00

A head rolls gently to one side. A smell of bacon and eggs on the air. A sliver of sun crosses a face. A person sits up and stretches. Exxa. A book replaced on a shelf. A notebook is closed. Exxa! A maid comes scurrying in. An order is given. A coat is put on. A front door closes while drapes are pulled shut.

Where to begin? Where to begin? The six…five of us cannot work in unison. We cannot…I cannot know who the betrayer is. In the car and out beyond the edge of safety. Time to think. Time to consider. Time to wonder over what was happening. She knew the protocols, the orders, the places of gathering. What of the others? Of those left, were they all in league? An elaborate hoax meant to trap us…me? Couldn’t tell. Unlikely. I dismiss the thought. Best to proceed on the one I knew.

A car drives into a city. A dry day while the waters drain. A store is sought. A car is parked. A bell rings as a door closes behind a figure. Hephexxa in ex ap’Ungalla. An exchange of pleasantries. A question is asked. A parcel proffered. A parcel accepted.

It had been ordered long ago, before I knew what it was that was facing us. We could all see the signs on the horizon though, and we all prepared as custom dictated. Inexact, but reliable.

A drip of blood, a drop of rain down the drain into the bowl while it filled up my whole world. A rat and cat, a batter beats down a door at four. Yellow cavernous growth in a pleading trial. It’s been a while since I’ve had to make sense of such things. Again. Again. Again.

Hephexxa, in an ep’Thyire. Calming, drifting, dreaming, breathing, breeding, keeping the faith, keeping the face clear in my mind and drip, drip, drip, dip the knife and slowly cut the barbed figure’s last breath out into the deep, deep, dirty earth. And down, down, down into the deep, dark hallowed ground.

What seekest thou? My voice is muffled, my lungs are full of dirt and stone and my blood is full of rubies. What seekest thou? I clear my voice and let it ring out. What seekest thou? “A name!” I hear my voice cry out as if coming from an unfathomable distance. What seekest thou?

I find the name from the cluttered remains of my strained brain and pronounce it. I find the name and ring it out against the hard crystalline shell of my body and soul. I ring it out in perfect pitch harmony with the place I find myself in. I ring with perfect harmony and find myself aware of the world. I find myself aware of the world and cannot find my way back home. I cannot find my way back home. Back home. Back home. Home. Home.

A pair of eyes fly open. A child’s face leans in close and asks “Are you ok?”

2009-12-01T17:43:00.005-08:00

Twitchy twitter eyes,
Up to watch the skies
Dawn’s edge breaks
Sun on the hori-zon, sun on the hori-zon

Twitchy twitter eyes
Set down upon the water
Deep in the pool
The baby is dy-ing, the baby is dy-ing

Twitchy twitter eyes
They glance behind you
Across the glade
The forest is on fi-re, the forest is on fi-re

Twitchy itchy eyes
All filled up with ash
Your mouth is burning
Your house lies in ru-in, your house lies in ru-in

- Abigail McCallister’s Collected Children’s Stories

2009-12-01T17:43:00.003-08:00

Dominix pen en ap’Oxilla. Another circle is drawn. Time is cast aside. All outside comes in and the inside goes out. Searching abroad, and lingering fixtures from the elsewhile to the current. We follow…I follow from the present to the past which came after. Time reasserts itself.

A bridge passes underneath. A startled flock of birds. A road stretches on ahead. A dark, undulating streak in the distance. A column of soldiers up close, with banners held aloft. An image of a lion in dexter. An image of a coiled serpent. A smell of smoke. A distant chanting and stomping and marching sounds, miles ahead. Roxxia yin yut en ast ap’Furia. A battlefield. An unknown outcome. I’m noticed.

We arrived…I arrived back as the circle faded away. From the past, I knew what lay ahead. We had broken before and it was always traumatic. Never again became our mantra as it occurred. “All was well. All was well,” was mine.

To the east? It would be long on foot, over the mountain range and over an ocean. To the north? By ship perhaps, where the land never knew a summer’s day. Unlikely. To the south, then perhaps, where in patience and practice, lie the way home. Couldn’t be. Never to the west though. We had all been there and vowed never to turn back if it could be helped.

A moment spent in quiet reverie. A car rumbles past. A radio thumps loudly. A child’s laugh can be heard. A half-remembered comment made by one of the six. A child laughs again. Truungalla! A picture crashes down off the wall.

I saw her standing before me. Six. Absent six, gone six, nevermore six. I saw her staring at me, full as day, full as night-lit moon. I felt her whispered words as they wormed their way towards my ears. Full of lies and deceit, they cried. They felt icy to my warm, warm ears. Full of lies and deceit from an unexpected source. Her lips parted and her scream filled up an eternity. Apaxxa! Hyphonia un triyo as en’Feera gulstin. The apparition faded, as did we all.

An unmeasured pace. A door unleashed and unlocked. A departure from a hovel. An arrival at a place of known sanctuary. A piece falls into place. Gruix en gruix. An aging statue in a fountain. An aging servant pleased to see her mistress return. A request for a hot bath. A decent meal. A clock ticking and clicking away dutifully while the sun slips low beneath the horizon. A book is retrieved and consulted.

2009-12-01T17:43:00.001-08:00

A madcap flight into the night. A mind frightened of the possibilities. A mind fighting to maintain control. An unlocked door. A moment’s pause. A caught breath. A silent prayer for a lost…Hellagha in en ap’Furia! A lit candle.

The surroundings were cast in shadow. It was safe, by way of being unknown to predator and prey alike. It was a residence. It looked abandoned. One lost to the song, to the night creatures who steal the young away with song and dance and merriment and good wine and food. It would suffice for our purposes, my purposes.

An established haven, as boards bound up doors. A curtain obscuring a window. A rope hung down. A swaying chandelier. A mouse scampering in the walls. A series of bright lanterns. Ruus’tingal ossa Typhol en ap’Furia! A circle is drawn.

We sent a call out and could hear one another. Third and fourth called soundly, second and fifth were weak but present. Gathering was permissible no longer. We agreed to search out the sound, the song, the legend and call, the source of the pall over the city. Our charges, our children would be found, would be gathered up and herded back home. Snatched away from the poachers.

An agreement between colleagues. A series of blessings and luck. A breaking of contact. Un’im un’alla cassa dep’wal. A haze descends on the house. A feeling of security pervades. A bed is found. A noxious smell as a draught is drunk. An eye flutters shut.

Dreams of forever marches. Dreams of skies ablaze and frozen oceans. Dreams of grand sails and deep rudders gliding across fathomless depths. Dreams filled with the sounds of steel against steel, steel against bone, terror and anguish, pain and misery. False dreams of glorious fields, filled with all the light of the Heavens and Earth, and countless beautiful figures wishing all well who dare approached.

A fresh day arrives, and the sleeper awakes screaming.

2009-12-01T17:42:00.001-08:00

A twitchy eye cast about. A song played nearby. An anticipatory murmur through a crowd. An entrance by an important figure. Caanstaad Ogh Infeiria. A muttered prayer.

We seek the helpless and the hopeless, the lost and the confused, we hear the heavens and let them speak through us. Join us and find that which you lost long ago. Not knowing is no longer an option when you join. Come!

A ripple of excitement through the gathered. An obedient group rises and follows the fellow out the door forever. A sole watcher stays behind, immune to whatever machinations prompted the rest to leave. Angassa is une Thyphonia parlaen. A note is scratched and dropped for her other fellow watchers.

Anticipatory evening. All is well, except for the pall of dread over the road and…feeling further outwards from one to external…the city. Likened to holding one’s breath. The group, the speakers, they all prompted the mood. The watchers…didn’t matter. All was well. Climb the wall and just a short fall to safety. All was well. Must believe that all was well.

A quick run down the alley. A cat darts out. A mouse shrieks. A fit of laughter heard from an open window. A peal of thunder from the west. Yonnigala tyrri. A phonecall is made. A car arrives. A streetlight flickers out as a figure walks underneath.

We six, we watchers and waiters and wonderers and wanderers about the city. We cannot fathom who the enemy is. They take no notice of us when we approach them, as if we are not there. We cannot abide what they do to our paradise. We cannot let them continue to poach our means of existence, our livelihood. We will not let them get away with it. No, all is well.

A car door slams shut. A begrudging greeting between ex-friends. A table set for six. An offering of wine to each around a table. A traditional toast. Bayonne ap illa no nust. Bayonne ap trivva cun nust. Bayonne ap lira yunlust. A candle is lit for each speaker.

I wonder if we’ll accomplish anything this time. Annoying, that we’re so antagonistic to one another any more. I wish that we could set it all aside and start anew. We cannot let them get away with it! I am against any action that would lead them back to us. Enough!

I was there tonight. I saw them. I left a note for the rest of you. I couldn’t interact with them, nor they with me. The point of interaction was the people. I could see the people, and they could see me. Their song though… Their song was that of a siren’s call. And it passed right through them into me and then back out. Angassa.

A silence spread. A moth flickered into a light. A strange shadow was cast on the wall. A song could be heard from outside.

The world faded away and all that was left was the table and the six and the moth and the light. The song lifted up and out, and in and back and forth and back and forth again. From the six came nothing else. Ears rang as eyes teared and throats burned and hearts pounded with the fury of the pursued prey. They had come for they had noticed.

A shriek. A scattering of chairs. A crash of glass. A mouthful of curses. A parting of ways. A misstep amidst the rubble. A prone figure dragged away. Hellagha Infeiria ap Ondonnus!

All is well, as the music fades into the night. All is well, as six became five.

2009-12-01T17:40:00.000-08:00

I'm writing a story in a sort of serial format. I figure it would translate well to a blog, using sporatic, micro updates. Put up what I have so far and update it as it is written.