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Monthly Archives: June 2014

The Paladin

30 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

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Tags

art, fantasy, Kim Sokol, Paladin, Story

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Art by Kim Sokol

A failure. That’s what she was, Arianna knew. Yesterday, everything had seemed so clear to her as she lined up with the other volunteers. It hadn’t seemed to matter that her armour was crude and her sword a hand-me-down from her father, their mission was clear and simple. Protect the town from the army that was coming across the land. But now that same army streamed past Arianna as she dragged her broken body into the safety of the church.

The first report had come in a few days ago, carried by the Mackenzie boys on a nearly dead horse. They talked about a great wave of black crashing over the countryside, leaving flames in their wake. The youngest boy even talked about goblins and demons in their midst. It sounded like bedtime stories to Arianna at the time, and she’d completely dismissed it as such. Her father had told stories of armies passing before, and the destruction they could cause while looking for food and supplies. Discourage them, he urged, but don’t give them cause to attack. The mayor had called for a volunteer army to defend the town, and come they had, armed with family heirlooms and farm equipment. They just need to look intimidating, and with much luck, the army would leave. Arianna regretted that she had ignored the boy now as she stared at the red glow filtering in through the broken church windows.

The reports had changed as more refugees came in, more talk of demons with small, twisted bodies. Some people had run, fearing the rumours, but the Captain of the guard was confident as he walked up and down the lines of his new army. He told them they were strong, and army was weak. They would soon leave to easier conquests, leaving the town intact. But now Arianna watched the town burn through the church window as she dragged her broken leg to a bench, blood streaming from her arm. A failure, through and through.

She could hear screams behind her as the the demons hauled another person into the streets. Was that Ms Grayson from the schoolhouse? She wasn’t sure any more, the screams were all starting to sound the same. She pulled her broken sword into her lap and stared up at the church’s ceiling.

“Well God, now what?” she asked plainly, watching bright spots swim past her eyes. The church air hung silently in response, at odds with the screams from outside.

“NOW WHAT?!” She yelled into the heavy air, clenching her fist around the hilt of her shattered sword, hastily shoved back in it’s scabbard. “You’re supposed to be good. You’re supposed to love us! Is this how you show love, with an army of demons?” Her cries echoed off the altar, bouncing back to her as twisted as the army.

“An army of demons,” the echo said mockingly. A scream from outside pierced the echo, and Arianna’s vision blurred beneath tears. Her head throbbed as she broke down, her anger fading to a whisper.

“They’re killing my family, and here I am. A failure to the end. I’m sorry.” She hung her head as the bright spots swam in her vision, growing wings as they danced through the dust motes. She watched the bright doves frolic through the empty church, struggling to make sense of them through a haze of pain. Their glow slowly faded as their message became clear, and the three doves flew out the church door just as the first goblin came in.

Arianna stood up to meet them. Gone was the pain of her leg, gone was the uncertainty. She walked forward to meet the demons proudly, drawing her whole and glowing sword from its scabbard. Now they would taste her fury.

Abandoned

24 Tuesday Jun 2014

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abandoned, fantasy, farmhouse, ghosts, Story

Jillian sat at the kitchen table, math homework in front of her, watching the bright green tractor riding up and down the fields. The dark ground behind the tractor stood out in sharp contrast against the winter grey soil of the field, slowly preparing the whole field for the new corn seeds. Half the field was already black as the tractor worked its way back and forth like a typewriter on the field. It wasn’t until the tractor momentarily vanished behind a dilapidated house in the middle of the field that Jillian broke out of her out of her trance. She turned to stare down at the math paper, only to be confronted by swimming numbers and symbols. She sighed deeply, turning her gaze back to the abandoned old house.

“Mom, why do we have that house in the middle of the field anyways?” She turned to the other woman in the kitchen, her hands covered in flour up to the elbows as she kneaded a loaf of bread. Her mother looked up at her startled, broken out of her own trance.

“What was that, Jilly? The old house?” She quickly glanced out the window herself.

“Yeah, why’s it there? None of the other farms have broken down old homes in the field.”

Her mother gave her a sharp glance. “Don’t you have homework to be doing?” she asked. Jillian covered the offensive numbers with her sleeve, hoping to look casual.

“I’m almost done.” she lied. “Come on, there has to be a story here.”

Her mother fixed her with a steely gaze as she shaped the dough into loaves, covering them with a dish towel. “I suppose you have been working hard. You see, that house used to belong to your great grandmother, Jilly, your dad’s Nona. His Poppa made the house for her when they were married, as a wedding gift, but he died when your dad was still young. He was in a terrible car accident, with his daughter and her husband in the back seat. It left Nona to take care of their children and farm herself. And she did it too, though the farm was much smaller back then. She used to pick the corn herself with your Dad strapped to her back, and Uncle Todd and Auntie Eda following behind her with wagons full of corn.”

Jillian looked out at the house with it’s dirty white siding in the field. “So why don’t we still live out there then?” she asked. Her mother shrugged.

“Well, when I married your father, your aunt surprised us both by buying this half of the farm and your uncle built us a home over here. That house was a little small for us all. Nona insisted on staying over there though, said she had no place in a new couple’s home. She stayed out there until one night, a fire started. It didn’t get a chance to do much damage, but Nona was old… She had that cough the rest of her life…”

Jilly’s mom trailed off to silence as she looked out the window. After a few seconds, she seemed to shake it off and continued her story. “Anyway, we talked about just tearing it down a few times, but it’s just hard. It still feels like her when you go inside. So we left it.” Her mother leaned over the counter, tapping the math papers with her finger. “Now back to work. Nona didn’t raise any slackers, and I don’t plan on it either.”


Jillian cut across the cornfields on her way home, backpack weighed down with heavily with books. The tiny corn plants were sprouting all through the field by now, but Jillian had eyes only for home as she trudged along. She passed by the ancient farmhouse, just in time to hear the old structure let out a loud creak. It sent a chill down her spine as she stopped in her tracks, turning to give the old building another look. It let out a second creak under her gaze, with the faint song of chimes in the wind.

A bush had sprouted up in the door well, but the doorknob turned easily as Jillian slipped into inside. Sunlight streamed in through the broken windows, illuminating the small wind chimes that hung from scorched frames. The chill ran back up her back and out her arms as she took in the blackened walls and dusty rugs. Jillian licked her lips nervously, before forcing a smile onto her face.

“Hello Nona,” she said into the empty space, pulling a notebook out of her backpack. “My dad said you used to be pretty good at math. I was wondering if you could help me out.”

A breeze blew through and sent the windchimes dancing again. Feeling a little foolish, Jillian sat down with her notebook on the floor. The numbers were still there, still teasing her with their silly notation. But she almost thought she could see a pattern forming. Maybe with a few tweaks and nudges…

As she worked through the math problems in her notebook, Jillian barely noticed the faint sound of a cough.

The Citadel

18 Wednesday Jun 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

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citadel, Story

“Wait up, Mandy,” she whispered under her breath, her footsteps clapping against the wet paving stones. I heard her call out, but I didn’t dare break my stride or turn around looking. I did slow my pace though, ever so slightly, and soon the familiar sound of her footsteps fell in beside mine.

“I love when it rains like this.” I didn’t turn to look, but I could hear her smile in the words. And such a smile it was. Soft around the edges, with a genuine touch of warmth, and perked up at one corner. She shared her smile with everyone, from teachers to classmates, but it always seemed wider when it was pointed at me. But still I didn’t turn to see it.

“You know this is a bad place.” I said to the back of the girl in front of me, watching her black woollen jacket swish across the top of black boots. “The citadel is right behind, we’re in plain sight out here.”

“But that’s the best part,” She said lightly, “Let them look out here, and you know what they’ll see?” She paused to let me jump in.

“Just a sea of black umbrellas.” She finished, nonplussed by my silence. And now my feet did miss a step at the implications. I tripped on the stones, sending papers flying to the flooded sidewalk.

Biting back tears, I scrambled for the papers before the rain soaked them through, snatching them out from the unyielding paths of black boots. When the last soggy assignment was shoved into my bag, I glanced about for my umbrella. A hand held it out over my rain-drenched head as it’s partner offered me a boost. Her warm smile greeted me, shielded from prying eyes by her own black umbrella. I took her hand cautiously, like one might take a live wire, and she pulled me to my feet. And if that grip lingered a moment or two too long beneath the watchful eyes of the citadel, then no one could see a face as we scurried back to the crowd. Just two nameless black figures, huddled against wind and rain.

One Touch of Nature

13 Friday Jun 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

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apocalypse, elements, fantasy, phoenix, Story, thunderbird

The circle was smaller this year, Marrissa noted. Previous years had seen dozens of people crammed into the clearing about the fire, jostling to hear the tales that the campfire brought, but this year only 20 people had come. Even her own tribe had sent only a few representatives, the rest of the survivors had been too scared to come. Not that she blamed them, the rumours were out that the Dark Ones had been seen again, for the first time in a decade, and no one wanted to risk a large gathering. But Marrissa felt the Fire Circle was too important to skip. Information was too preciously rare these days to skip passed on rumours and hearsay.

“Good evening, my Friends,” said the Speaker as the last of the sun vanished from the grove. The circle had formed, the fire already built to a crackling roar. “I see we have fewer guests this year than normal. I hope we will make up for that this year in our stories.” A warm murmer went up from the crowd as the Speaker gestured to the woman on his right. She stepped into the circle of light, the fire revealling a woman who Marrissa guessed to be forty years old. Her brown hair was pulled back to reveal a well-tanned face with creases worn deep around her eyes.

“Good evening,” she began. “I wish I came here with better stories to tell, but unfortunately my news is quite grave. You see, my tribe lives to the north, out past the river. And we fear that the Elements have awakened again.” A deep murmur went up from the crowd, yet no one spoke as the woman continued. “It started out slowly, the river was swelling. It was to be expected, after the winter we had. But then a few weeks later, three of the children went down to the river to do laundry… And only two returned. One was my own son, he says they were splashing each other when they saw a man in dark robes on the opposite shore. He says they all turned and ran, but Billy never made it back to camp. When we went back to look, there was nothing but a shoe caught in the river rocks.” The woman bite her lip nervously. “By the time I left to come here, the river was flooding over our bridge. I only hope it has not washed away entirely by now.” The woman fell back from the circle in nervous silence as the Speaker rubbed her back. The next person stepped forward, a rugged youth who looked barely sixteen.

“My story is also a bad news. There have been tremors in the west again. Our west most pastures fell into the abyss over the winter. Luckily, no one was injured, but the tremors are growing stronger each week…”

The night continued as the skies got darker, dark clouds rolling in to block out the star. With each passing story, Marrissa grew more and more worried. If the Dark Ones were waking the elements again, there would be nothing they could do again but to watch all their hardwork vanish again. And it did seem that way, with forests running rampant and more flooding. One particularly long traveller even spoke of storms and tornadoes rolling in from the east. She relished the good news as best she could, clinging to the news of new babies being born or couples being married, until it was her turn.

She stepped forward into the warmth as the light revealed her skinny arms sticking out of her too-short sweater, matchstick legs poking out beneath a thin skirt bleached white from the sun.

“Good Evening, Friends,” she said, holding her arms close to her body. “My tribe does not have much news this year, I’m sorry. I brought an offering though, for the feast.” She pulled off her backpack as she spoke, rummaging through it. “I came up from the south, through the fire-swept lands. The forest seems to be recovering still, the new trees are still growing. And it was there that I found this.” She pulled from her bag a large, pink egg, the size of an ostrich egg, and held it up to the circle. The crowd muttered in admiration as she held it high. She took a step towards the feast table, but her foot caught a root, sending her tumbling.

Instinctively, she curled about the egg, trying to shield it while avoiding the roaring fire beside her. It nearly worked too, she thought as she lay on the ground beside the fire with her knees and palms stinging, watching the intact egg beside her delicately roll into the firepit, just out of reach. She started to push herself to her feet when the fire pit exploded in a blaze of pure white. She dropped to the ground shielding her eyes as the heat washed over her, singing the hairs that stood straight up on her body. Through cracked eyes she watched as a bolt of lightning arced into the sky, splintering off in a thousand directions like a tree growing in fast forward.

It lasted only a moment, but Marrissa stared blindly at the sky for long after, the image still burned into eyes as the dark soil cooled her burned back. As her vision returned, she slowly sat up, taking in her surroundings. The people had all fled, leaving nothing but her and the charred fire pit. The ground about the firepit smoldered slightly, but her eyes were drawn to the form in the fire. There, though the fire still burned about it, stood a crimson bird, the size of a hawk. Blue patterns traced over it’s wings an long tail feathers as flames danced over it body. Marrissa gasped, pushing herself away from the fire as it advanced towards her, a curious tilt to its head. The fires lingered about it’s body, dying away slowly, until at last it stood before her as if it knew her. She raised her arm in front of her face as it flew at her, turning her face away from it’s powerful beak, but the pain she expected didn’t come.

When she opened her eyes, the bird sat on her arm like it belonged there, its plumed tailfeathers trailing to the ground. She stared at the bird in shock as she realized this time, the Awakening would be different.

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Across the River

10 Tuesday Jun 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

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dryads, elves, fantasy, romance, Story

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Inspired by this art by Iardacil on Deviantart

The Florende river defined the border between the human town and the elven lands. Near town, it looked almost peaceful as it wove its way through the pastures, but Matthew knew it was just a clever disguise for the cold, deep waters that raced their way to the ocean. The river had already claimed two of his sheep this year, dragging them into the crack so quickly their bodies had never been recovered. He was guiding the sheep away from the deceptively greedy maw of the river when he saw her.

She stood on the wrong side of the river, her back to the pine trees that lined the forest. Chestnut brown hair fell in a braid to her waist and and a rough leather vest covered her green blouse, but Matthew was drawn to her eyes. Sparkling blue; the colour of the sky on a crisp autumn day, or the ocean in summer, they called to him even across the meadow, like an invitation to come swimming. A smile crossed her chapped lips as their eyes met, and she opened her mouth as if to call out, but a shout rose from the town, and in a flash she was gone, leaving nothing but pine branches jostling in the wind.

As the summer heat grew, Matthew settled into a routine. Herd the sheep to the pasture, settle in on his rock to watch them. Once there, the spray of the Florende fought back the sun, and if the rock offered a perfect view of the pine grove, Matthew never mentioned it to the people in town. But the pines remained empty, a dark hole against the wall of trees.

Caught up in a dream, he watched all summer long, as the cicadas cried and wildflowers bloomed thick across the river, tempting the sheep with their honey-like scent. But it was as the moon rose yellow and full on the first day of harvest that he next caught sight of the girl.

Wordlessly, she slipped through the branches, her dress of pure white standing stark against the dark green of the pines. With glance and a finger to her lips, she set off downriver without looking back. He followed the river without question, not daring to cross but not daring to lose sight of his ghost. She vanished over a rocky ledge, and he scrambled to keep up.

The sight at the bottom made him bite his cracked lips. The ground fell away to a clearing below, and the Florende river, barely 3 feet across at the top, sprayed out in a waterfall before widening below, a meandering strip of twilight cutting a path through the corn fields. A tree lay across the twin river banks, forming a bridge between the orderly rows and the unbroken meadow. And his lady in white stood on that log, a smile on her lips as she watched him descend.

Carefully he crossed the moss covered log until he stood before her, close enough to smell the pine sap in her hair. Close enough to touch her, yet he kept his hands at his sides. He licked his dry lips as he met her crystal blue gaze. He broke the silence first.

The Clouds of Lilacs

07 Saturday Jun 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

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Heaven, immortality, Story

“Mom, I just don’t understand! Why won’t you go on ReNu?” Chris gave his mother what he hoped was a hard stare as she sat on her couch. “All the studies say it’s safe, and it would cure the cancer. And then the kids would always have their Granny.”

Jenny looked away from her son and his wife, and away from the colourful pamphlets spread out on the coffee table. Live Forever! was plastered on each, and the happy sun-shaped logo stared at her as harshly as her son. She directed her gaze towards the window instead, and the fluffy pink and white blooms that filled it.

“Will you bring in some lilacs, Deliah?” she asked suddenly, “That stubborn bush is getting overgrown about the window.”

“Sure, Mrs. Poule,” she said, getting up from beside Chris. She gave her husband a slight squeeze on the shoulder before heading outside. Jenny gave her a smile and turned back to her son as the door squealed shut.

“Chris… Honey… I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be immortal.”

“But-” She cut him off with a wave.

“I don’t. I know, they’re saying that everyone can be immortal these days, but I don’t want to live forever. One day, Honey, I plan on dying and seeing Heaven.”

Chris snorted, “How can you be so sure there is a Heaven?”

“I can’t be,” his mother said. “But I have faith there’s something up there waiting for me.”

The door shrieked again as Deliah entered the house with an armful of lilacs, interrupting any further protests. Jenny quickly bustled over to her, leaving Chris behind with his pamphlets.

“Oh thank you, Darling!” Jenny said, taking a deep breath of the sweet scent. “Let me help you get these in a vase.” She swept up a handful of the flowers and lead the way to the kitchen, Chris watching his mother and wife. Jenny filled the vase full of water and flowers before returning to sweep aside pamphlets to make room for her handiwork.

“Much better,” she said with a contented smile. “Lilacs always were your father’s favourite.”

Dance With Me

05 Thursday Jun 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Stories

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

dance, moon, poem, stars, Story

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“Come dance with me.” She spoke through berry red lips, pulling his hand away from the conversation. The guests smiled a knowing smile, closing ranks about the gap as the man slipped away.

“Come dance.” She giggled, dodging family and friends as she lead the way to the doors. The dance floor was the other way, yet she pushed out to the porch, looking over the sea.

“Come dance with me,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms about him, beneath the stardust filled sky. The people made way for her lavious, white gown, hushed whispers behind their hands.

“Dance with me.” She said to her groom as the crowd faded away, leaving nothing but the music trickling out into the night.

A Pokemon Story – Part #6

01 Sunday Jun 2014

Posted by lexilogical in Pokemon, Stories

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

fanfic, pokemon, Story, vulpix

I called Frank over to the door as I came in and he came over, sensing by the sound of my voice that I’d probably done something I shouldn’t.  Jewel followed hot on his heels, intrigued by the bundle of fluff I held in my arms.  As the Umbreon glowered, the small Vulpix began to shake again, huddling itself back into my arms.  My husband towered over me, looking down at the tiny fire fox.

“Are you adopting more strays?”  He asked with a grin.  I gave him a sheepish look.

“Maybe.  Can I keep it?”

He shrugged.  “You’re the one who wants a petting zoo.  You should put it down before it burns a hole in your jacket..”

Several minutes later, I had the Vulpix in a nest made of towels, inside the bathtub.  The bathroom door was closed, but that didn’t stop several paws from slipping beneath it, both in black and lavender.  I reached out to stroke the shivering fox.

“Don’t worry, little one, they won’t bite.”  The tiny head nuzzled up to my finger, only to snap around and bite me.

“OUCH!!”  I pulled my hand away from the kit as an Espeon materialized inside the bathroom door.

“Katie!”  I admonished, “You know you shouldn’t be in here.”  Her red eyes merely stared at me as my cellphone buzzed on the counter.  I ignored her, going to grab her as she walked up to the Vulpix.  She dodged my grip as the cellphone buzzed again, and shoved her head into the tub beside the Vulpix.  I grabbed at her again, and she merely stared me down.  The cellphone buzzed again as I tried fruitlessly to move her.  In frustration, I grabbed the phone as she sniffed the kit all over in curiousity.  Three new text messages, curious as there was rarely cell reception in these woods.  I scrolled to the first as I watched Katie like a hawk, hoping she wouldn’t attack.

I am here to take care of the young one.

The first message read.  I furrowed my brow as I glanced at the sender.  There was no number, it simply said “Katie”.  I looked at my Espeon, and then at the next messages.

I will teach the young one.

Stop this.  She will be fine.

I stared slack jawed at my Espeon, who was now looking me over curiously.

“How long have you been able to do this?”  I asked in amazement.  The phone buzzed in my pocket.

Always.

“Well, why didn’t you say anything earlier?”  I said, finally feeling justified in talking to my pets.

You did not ask.

“Oh sure Katie, while we’re at it, do you have any other cool tricks to show me?”

I debated how much of Katie’s words were typical feline bravado and how much was truth.  Would she admit it if the reverse was true?  It didn’t matter much, since this discovery was momentous enough.

“Well Katie, you should probably know why I don’t want you in here then.  Don’t you remember when I first brought Jewel home?  You got all defensive and swatted at her!”  The cellphone buzzed again.

She did not know respect.

At least that much was true, I vaguely recalled how unsurprised everyone was when she evolved into an Umbreon.  Wait…  I paused slightly, trying to dredge up the memory of Jewel evolving instead of Jewel as a cat.  I shouldn’t remember her evolving, but it was clear as day.  The scratching at the door broke me out of the memory, and the phone buzzed again as black claws pawed at the bathroom door.

She still does not know respect.  This one will be different.

I looked at the small Vulpix, curiously trying to peek out of the bathtub at Katie’s swishing tail.  It gave a tiny sneeze, sending a cloud of embers out to settle on the linens.  I winced slightly.

“I hope you’re right, Katie, otherwise she may well burn down the house.  I don’t want her being aggressive, or hurting you.”  I was already checking my phone when it buzzed this time.  A picture popped up, showing a Flareon nursing a litter of Eevees.

She will learn control.

I nodded to her, and decided to take this one on faith.

“Alright, I trust you, Katie.  Be a good mother to this one.”  I got up to leave just as the Vulpix pounced Katie’s forked tail.  I squeezed my way out of the washroom, careful not to let Jewel push her way in, when a thought occurred to me.  Just as the door closed, I asked one more question.

“Katie, do you remember being a cat?”  I hastily shut the door, locking Jewel out and leaning back against the door.  Reluctantly, I checked out my two new messages.

Yes.

This is better.

 

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