March Twitter’splosion

It’s been a weird month with the encroachment of the Covid-19. These micros area a reflection. Enjoy all of March #vss365 in one shot…

50 Creepiest Movie Psychopaths

MARCH

3/1/2020

Tensions built to a breaking point. Solutions seemed so obvious to those impacted, funds to rebuild. However, the elite knew how #bridging the gap could be achieved. They offered those made homeless from the disaster free packs of paper towels to mop up the flooding.#vss365

3/2/2020

He laughed when they said she’d intimidate him. He was, after all, a macho man. That was before he stood before her, subject to the fury brewing in her #Atlantic eyes. He’d met more than his match, and the siren displayed his false bravado for all to see.#vss365

3/3/2020

“Storm today.” Half-blind Pete gazed up at a seagull winging over the calm seas. Younger crews left port and laughed. That was until the gulls vanished as the #whitecaps appeared. The sky darkened at midday to black. Pete watched their ships sink from his docked ship.#vss365

3/4/2020

The great wide blue stretched from horizon to horizon below. The sky over the ocean—the dwelling of the #seagull. She soared over the tall masted vessels, guiding them to shore. Of course humanity had little patience, calling her kind rats with wings. That’s gratitude.#vss365

3/5/2020

The beach-side city stood tall and proud, ignorant of peril. Time demanded it pay #tribute to nature’s fury when the storm surge flooded the very foundations, washing away the land on which the city stood. A reminder that it never should have been built there.#vss365

3/6/2020

In the beginning #seventeen set out in the party to save their city. All seemed well, until their number became thirteen. At that point the paladin counted, recounted, and fled in a panic from his own superstition—right off a cliff. The remaining dozen returned victorious.#vss365

3/7/2020

I went cross-eyed for a moment staring at it. “Sir? There is a sizable gray box in the field of my vision.”

VP of Health answered, “That’s just a #patch.”

I blanched. “On a hazmat suit helmet?”

“Relax, you’ll be fine. The virus isn’t smart enough to get past the patch.”#vss365

3/8/2020

Beneath the oppressive pall society shut down, fearing that just one wrong move would land them in jail. Until a melody built in the air, a #spark of rebellion rapidly gained momentum and burnt a hole in the fabric, making way for progress.#vss365

3/9/2020

She trembled with every step toward the altar. Her heart thundered as she gathered the courage. The noble stood there, waiting expectantly for his obedient future wife. She halted at the bottom of the steps, took a deep breath and declared, “I am already #spoken for.”#vss365

3/10/2020

I leaned forward on the table as she returned. “So? What’s the #word?”

“He says he’ll tell you where he hid the ledger over his dead body.”

I moaned, “He doesn’t know?”

She caressed her crystal ball. “Nope, the stubborn ox is quite convinced he’s still alive. My fee?”#vss365

3/11/2020

She cooed at the puppy’s #unfathomable cuteness. “Oh my God, I’ve never seen anything more adorabl—OUCH!”

The foster laughed. “Nor useful. That pup is in shredder mode at the moment. Everything has a price, and for this one—it’s a pint of blood.”#vss365

3/12/2020

Skeletons lined very ash-strewn valley. Proof of the ravaged land’s #insurmountable challenge to the dinosaurs. Yet in the rubble life remained. Smaller, drought resistant, hearty. From the ashes the warm blooded mammals claimed the empty throne.#vss365

3/13/2020

“Is this #normal?” I looked at the desolate aisle, nothing but kittywampus empty shelves.

“Pretty much. When shit hits in the fan in prepper-ville folks want to make sure their ass is covered.”

“That was thousands of rolls of TP for how many residents?”

“Population twenty.”#vss365

3/14/2020

See the world, they said. Experience the sights, they said. There’s nothing like a #foreign country, they said. No one mentioned over two weeks forced to stare at the same four walls of my stateroom on a petri dish ship. Yup, that was an unbeatable sight.#vss365

3/15/2020

He ran his fingers through her hair. “I couldn’t love you any more, my little #stroopwafel.”

SLAP! For a long moment all he saw were flashing lights, til his vision cleared to her furious expression.

“What? I called you a cookie! Don’t go! Oh shit.” One crumby breakup.#vss365

3/16/2020

I blinked and looked again. Had that #mannequin just moved? No wait. A moment ago it didn’t have the top hat. Blink. Nor the ascot. What the…?

It smiled at me. “Never fully dressed without a smile, gov’ner.”

I ran and never returned to Mens Surplus again!#vss365

3/17/2020

Everyone stared, captivated by the speech, by the gestures, everything played out with precision. That was what gave it away for those with discerning eyes. Too precise. That “man” behind the podium was a #robot, programmed to deceive.#vss365

3/18/2020

Men in designer suits pounded fists, shouting over one another, they couldn’t possibly fund outreach programs the golf course came first. Ms. Peaches #kindergarten class lined the room edges in orderly fashion, waiting to address the council about tissue shortages.#vss365

3/19/2020

Bravery won Dirk the pirate captaincy when he sunk a navy vessel. That same bravery cost him his life when he attempted the same trick … with the avenging #armada. #vss365

3/20/2020

“Follow the checklist. We must be highly #organized here for safety reasons.”

“Boss, why is there a space in the storage rack?”

“Oh fuck! Who took a vial without signing it out of the microbiology lab?”

“How bad?”

“Oh God, oh God, we’re all gonna die.”#vss365

3/21/2020

Augustus was obsessed with anything Japanese, to his family’s displeasure. When he died he took cultural appropriation to an extreme. His epitaph was a stolen whimsical #haiku. Due to copyright most was removed from the stone. “Smile, cherry blossom” is all that remains.#vss365

3/22/2020

“Seriously, we’re never going to find the treasure. This clue is too damn hard!”

“Son of a–! I should have noticed the clue is an #acrostic poem. First letters spell CLUELESS.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t have a clue.”#vss365

3/23/2020

“I shouldn’t’ve run away. If there is one thing I’ve learned, life’s #short.”

I stared at the boy on the park bench beside me swinging his legs. We’d been talking for an hour when in the blink of an eye he vanished into thin air.

I dialed a number. “I love you, Mom.”#vss365

3/24/2020

Mama told me babies are brought by a #stork. I laughed and told her baby brother’s had it easy since he was so small. Mama cried and held me close, her eyes watching the crib where he lay still. “He didn’t come that way, honey. A scarlet ibis brought him on borrowed time.”#vss365

3/25/2020

The gull winged over the seaport. Below a #cosy village sprawled, draped in glorious spring blooms. She called out and waited for a reply, one that never came. Not a soul dwelt there now, a living one anyway. Each roof hid a collection of plague corpses.#vss365

3/26/2020

“Oh my God! After being stranded and going without food, this is absolutely #delicious! Is there any more?” No one gathered around answered Ralph as the sun-beaten life raft drifted onward. He shrugged and grabbed another hunk of meat from his silent partners. “Mmm!”#vss365

3/27/2020

“Do you think storms have feelings?”

“Good question.”

“Think about how calm things feel after a major thunderstorm.”

“Or a tornado. Hell, that’s the biggest #outblowing of them all. Even Mother nature needs a little stress relief.” #vss365

3/28/2020

“Damn it! He got everything he wanted, again! Meanwhile we didn’t get a thing!”

“Of course he did. I wouldn’t pay the price though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not worth being that scumbags boot-licking #toad. I’d rather starve.”#vss365

3/29/2020

I never understood why Rocco chased his tail. Such a pointless activity. After weeks of self isolation revelation struck as I discovered myself spinning in circles in pursuit of my own #butt. The same four walls ran by a blur. I get it buddy, I get it now.#vss365

3/30/2020

“Is there a point to sailing the ocean forever, captain?”

“Any day now we’ll find it, #Finisterre!”

“The uh…the end of the Earth? Umm, you do know the Earth is round.”

“It’s fools like you who sail off into the void!”

“Right, and who’s done that?”

“Sven the Nearsighted!”#vss365

3/31/2020

“This AI shopper thing is going to far.”

“What now?”

“Well, it thinks I need a #zarf.”

“What’s that?”

“No idea, but apparently I have a set of them coming by breakfast tomorrow.”#vss365

February Twitter-splosion

In the leap year we get one more in February… so here is all twenty-nine Micro stories in a Tweet through the Twitter prompt #vss365. I didn’t do a theme this month. just wrote wherever the prompt took me. So get comfy…

safe for work puppy GIF

FEBRUARY

2/1/2020

Mother Earth fostered growth for eons. All across her surface animals of all kinds roamed in a delicate balance. Until one went off #script and declared itself removed from the animal kingdom. An age of tough love followed. The earth remains, the arrogant one is gone.#vss365

2/2/2020

“You’re excited about this? I mean, it’s a large rodent. I really have to question your #sanity.”

May waved her Groundhog Day banner. “Come on, sis, it’s just a bit of fun. No one really believes it.”

… Years passed in his shadow. Spring never came.#vss365

2/3/2020

The family gathering stifled her, as always. A stranger in her own skin. They never even noticed as she walked away into the secluded corner, one hand pressed against the wall. It glowed and open into her own world, her #fantasy, a reflection of the changling she was.#vss365

2/4/2020

It started as a little irritation. Just a nagging thought. Gradually it built, growing into a #frantic obsession until it drove me to distraction. I had no choice but to voice my concern. Now I have a wonderful padded room and a snugly fitting wardrobe to hug me tight.#vss365

2/5/2020

“I’m telling you, you’re wrong. Hold on a second. I’ll show you!” He disappeared into the library and came back with an #atlas dropping it on the table. Pointing at the map he declared, “See? The world is flat!”

It was going to be a long day discussing curved lines.#vss365

2/6/2020

Ben scoffed at me when I told him to toss spilt salt over his shoulder. “I have no place for a childish #ritual in my life!”

Well, he was right. At his apartment all we found was a scorch mark on the floor. No Ben. Hope he’s happy with his new job in hell.#vss365

2/7/2020

Sara banished disbelief as she entered the #enchanted forest. Wondrous beasts filled the wood. But her eyes scanned past them longing for the rarest. The thump of hooves caught her attention. She turned just in time for the disintegration spell. Unicorns are territorial.#vss365

2/8/2020

In a job market as poor as this, Jim didn’t dare to quit under the physical strain. His foreman worked him hard as the days grew longer. He didn’t notice the extra hair, the braying laugh, the lengthening of ears. At length he became another mindless #mule in the stable.#vss365

2/9/2020

There he was, all bluster and mane. The rogue came up to claim her. But the lioness’s claws slashed his hide. She’d had enough of their kind. Behind her in the grass, something far more precious. These were her cubs, not his to murder. He lost to mother’s #pride. #vss365

2/10/2020

“Just one #request, you must love me for eternity.”

When he asked me that it seemed such a natural answer. Of course, the son of a bitch didn’t tell me how much immortality sucks. Gah, why are they bringing THAT era back?#vss365

2/11/2020

I stood alone in the world. No, against the world. Not that I wanted to be. It’s just nature. Most of the time no one really knows the truth. But for 3 nights a month I have an #ally. The moon reveals my truth and sets my nature free!#vss365

2/12/2020

Muscles burned like fire consuming the grasslands. Lungs clogged with the smoke. Still I ran on with the flames singeing my fur. The rest of the pack already fallen behind. Our leader, a poor #judge of the danger, I feared we would all pay the price.#vss365

2/13/2020

The locust queen hovered in the sky and declared to her swarm, “Now we shall claim our #empire!” They spread across the land, claiming everything edible. For their ambition, they left in their wake a vast sea of carcasses in a desolate land. Not even the queen survived.#vss365

2/14/2020

Padding along in the Savannah in the hot sun, I didn’t spare a glance back over my shoulder. What was the point? Another painted wolf rode my shoulder. “We’re short one.”

“I know. Mother Nature’s a bitch.”

#Rookie mistake, never trust the water, crocodile domain.#vss365

2/15/2020

Death laughs at us all. You don’t believe me? Then why is the death mask a #parody of a smile? We find no humor in it, but assuredly someone does.#vss365

2/16/2020

Moonlight cast down through the broken arches. I sat alone, in silence, gripping a talisman to my chest. The bombs had ceased to fall, but they had taken all I knew. No, not all. Our #creed, I clung to that last vestige of my heritage: “Death first”. They would pay.#vss365

2/17/2020

“I know what’s best for the world.” The man spat into the microphone. “That’s why it’s good I control all this money.”

In the shadows the demon, #Greed, sharpened his claws, preparing a place in hell. “Lie to yourself all you want. The bill will come due.”#vss365

2/18/2020

I am one of you, all the outward signs informed. Passing through the defenses everything seemed normal. But the cells could not have been more wrong! Their mistake allowed the virus to #infiltrate, to hijack, and to force normal cells to replicate it from safely inside.#vss365

2/19/2020

She was so sad as she wrapped her arms around me and stroked my ears. My tail thumped on the floor as her heartbeat settled and her sobs dwindled. I licked her cheek. This was my job. This was my #purpose. Bring comfort to those who needed a warm paw.#vss365

2/20/2020

The words thundered in my ears in time with my heartbeat, in time with my steps. I was a #soldier of destiny. Before this moment I hadn’t known what that meant, just a mantra as we trained in barren fields. Now those fields were filled with blood.#vss365

2/21/2020

The boss cracked his knuckles, flanked by his goons. “I’ll give you one change to switch sides. You can either be part of the problem, or the #solution. So which will it be?”

I pulled out my knife, this was my turf. “Right now my middle name is Problem.”#vss365

2/22/2020

Millennia passed in a geologic blur populated by the chaos of the rise of man. Rise he did. After the fall to his own territorial devices, the animal kingdoms reclaimed their niches and #peace reigned for millennia more without his brutal tyranny scarring the land.#vss365

2/23/2020

“So there are different levels?”

The scholar folded her hands. “Indeed. There is the common, at fault by ignorance. Their is the huge, who seems to blunder. And then there is the #royal pain in the ass who knows precisely what he is doing in the worst way possible.”#vss365

2/24/2020

All eyes turned to her at the top of the stairs. Draped in the most enchanting fabrics she was a vision, the #belle of the ball. But that wasn’t why they stared. The viper coiled around her shoulders like a stole commanded their attention. She was not to be trifled with.#vss365

2/25/2020

“I’m telling you it’s the strangest thing.” The butler pointed at the decanter. “At 3am every night it empties. Stayed up and watched it!”

The maid laughed. “The previous owner died in this parlor during a party. It’s just him partaking of his favorite #spirits.”#vss365

2/26/2020

Towers of white stone rose towards the sky, a marvel of human innovation. From a distance it was stunning. Inside it was deserted to all save the bones of those who once lived here and the #vermin who brought them down crawling over them. The ruthless plague.#vss365

2/27/2020

Bjorn always had been the most determined viking. He lived by the saying “life’s a journey not a #destination”. When they tried to ignite his funeral boat it wouldn’t take, the vessel drifted off toward the horizon. Apparently he insisted death would be a journey too.#vss365

2/28/2020

The meadow lay cloaked in mist, submerged in #deathly silence. Welcoming as Death drifted through parting the fog to reveal the fallen soldiers baring colors from both sides. Their pointless wrath made Death’s job so much swifter.#vss365

2/29/2020

The cult lined up around him, screaming our praise and adoration. He stood on the dais in the center of the compound. “Humanity is sick. We will #purge it!” Their cheers reverberated, until his planted explosives blew a massive crater. He and his naive cult were no more.#vss365

January Twitter-splosion!

It’s a new year! And out comes the first month of #vss365 prompted micro-flashes! This month featured a role player theme with a party of … well … not so gifted heroes. Enjoy the hijinks! They may wander onto the scene from time to time.

game of thrones look at the fun we're having GIF

JANUARY

1/1/2020

On the stroke of midnight the old year stole away like the #charlatan it was. Let it take my broken dreams with it into the night. For in the new day and this new year I ignite fresh ones with a resolve to bring them to light. Time will not be a thief to me.#vss365 #HappyNew2020

1/2/2020

The tome lay open before me. I held my hands wide, prepared to cast the spell that would save our world. A whisper on the wind toyed in my ears and suddenly the letters #obfuscated the words. Shit! Laughter. I turned to see the sorcerer in a victory dance, “You’re doomed!”#vss365

1/3/2020

His pelt was as night, stars swallowing the light like black holes. The dark #unicorn stared down his horn, voice like thunder, “The light one, she is the beast of creation.” His horn touched the ground and it decomposed. “My power is not so benevolent.”#vss365

1/4/2020

Look deep into the mirror, though they warned me not to. I could not deny the twisted gleam in the corner of my eyes, a betrayal of #latent darkness within. Now I understood why the sparks came to my fingertips. Keep it hidden, don’t let them know I know the truth.#vss365

1/5/2020

“Damn it! Why didn’t someone notice the medallion on that asshole before we buried him. Now who the hell brought a shovel?”

The necromancer pushed up his sleeves. “Relax, with me around the corpse will #disinter itself. Just say the magic word.”

“Tch, please?”#vss365

1/6/2020

The summoning circle glowed, smoke billowed as the monstrous form manifested. I threw my head back in victory. Revenge would be mine! “Roar my mighty vassal of fury!”

“#yip”

I blinked as the smoke cleared. “A pomeranian? Shit! No more spell book orders from Amazon.”#vss365

1/7/2020

“Son of a—stupid door! How are we gonna get through?”

The mage stepped up and thrust his hand at it “Opensaysme!” Nothing happened. “#Obviate!” Nothing. “Uh, remove!” Nadah. “Vanish, dammit!”

POOF.

“Oh hey, that was easy. Just needed the right magi-thesaurus entry.”#vss365

1/8/2020

The paladin called down a bolt of lightning, nothing left behind. “Nobody likes a #usurper who bends the words of a god to their own ends!”

The druid cocked an eyebrow. “Screw that, what kinda screwball tries to take over the world via a pomeranian? That’s fucked up, man.”#vss365

1/9/2020

“The leg bone connected to the hip bone. Not anymore!” The barbarian threw his target. “Fun with #kinetic energy.”

“I told you guys, this is what happens when a science geek RPs a tank!”

“Alright, now let’s calculate the angle to throw him into the dragon’s mouth. Tangent …”#vss365

1/10/2020

“I hear your party is looking for a rogue. Kinda odd to advertise.”

“Eh? The last guy got a bit too #inquisitive.”

“Trap?”

“Nope. Mage’s bag of holding. He’s still there, I think.”#vss365

1/11/202

The rogue gripped his blade staring out at the enemy army. “You’d think they had something to fight for. Sure are a #lively lot.”

The bard stepped up, lute in her hand and smiled. “Just wait.”

Plugging his ears he sighed, “Can’t fight the music.”#vss365

1/12/2020

“Alright, snow gear, folks, this 1K mile journey to <yawn> huh? Oh hey, keep, another beer. Zzzzz” THUD.

Everyone looked at the bard, who grinned and ceased her humming. “Hope the paladin enjoys his #languor-over. I really don’t care for the cold.”

The rogue guffawed.#vss365

1/13/2020

“Haha!” The barbarian cheered at the chest of gems. “We’re rich! New ax here I come.”

The rogue peered at one and smirked. “No dice, bro. These aren’t real. Just #opaline glass. Looks like the townsfolk worked us for free.”

“Pay in BLOOD!” He brandished the dull ax.

“Shit.”#vss365

1/14/2020

A plate dripping of meat and gravy lay before the barbarian. The druid screamed, “Damn you! That’s where my companion went!”

The barbarian shrugged, “My diet needed more #fibrous content. Nothing was tougher than him.”#vss365

1/15/2020

The mage winced as the opposing party slid down into slumber, this wasn’t his doing. He eyed the bard as she stood triumphantly and waved jazz-hands. “Seriously? The #flourish isn’t necessary. Sleeping men can’t see it.”

“Hmph, it’s called style points, sourpuss.”#vss365

1/16/2020

“Sing it again, bard.” The paladin leaned against the prison bars as the rogue scowled.

“Who would have thought,” the bard replied, “we’d end up here because the rogue’s #yearning for a girl named Ruby, the sheriff’s daughter.”

“Caught with his hands on the family jewels.”#vss365

1/17/2020

“By the description of the villagers we’re looking for something #riparian.” The druid slowly looked up from studying the map, the whole party in blank stares. “You know, a river creature?”

“Oh! Yeah, why didn’t you just say that?”#vss365

1/18/2020

The party’s horses ran full tilt, angry pitchfork wielding villagers in their wake. “Well, this is a terrible #muddle!” The paladin glared at the bard. “You are NOT a virgin!”

“Ok, I get it! That’s the last time I use a Madonna cover in a spell!”#vss365

1/19/2020

“We’re about to meet his most highest honorable king of the region, so it’s important to #articulate. Don’t make him ask for a clarification.”

As the party entered the room, the berserker blurted, “Yo, your hindass!”

“Excuse me?” The king shot forward.

“Dungeon ho.” #vss365

1/20/2020

“Such a sweet, lovely woman. The scent of #jasmine truly be-YAWN-comes you zzz.” The paladin fell forward off the bed to face plant into the floor with a loud thump.

“It also covers the aromatic sedative.” The assassin pulled out her gleaming knife.#vss365

1/21/2020

The berserker tugged on the horse’s reins. “It’s just water, you #obstinate fool! You have to drink!”

The druid tugged back a bush and revealed a dead shrew family. “His stubbornness just saved our lives. This stream is poisoned.”

“Uh, I knew that.”#vss365

1/22/2020

“And next in my grand exploits,” the paladin continued with a hand to his breastplate.

The bard eyed the rest of the party. “And you all complained about me. At least my #rigmarole was for a legit distraction, not picking up chicks!”#vss365

1/23/2020

The druid rammed her fists in her ears and shouted, “What is that #cacophony?”

The paladin sighed, “Apparently the rogue thinks he’s a bard now and is convinced that playing mugs will earn the heart of a tavern wench. Just gives me a headache.”#vss365

1/24/2020

“Yo rogue, you wouldn’t #happen to know where my necklace is? You know, that family heirloom?” The mage dug through his chest. “Uncle Flaygar really hated when people took his things, used to curse everything he owned.”

Beads of sweat rolled down the rogue’s forehead.#vss365

1/25/2020

The mage stood with outstretched arms over the courtyard. Below the guards danced merry jigs, elbows into locked. “And now, A Chorus Line!”

“You never cease to #amaze me, mage!” The paladin applauded.

The bard grumbled, “Seriously? Camelot’s the obvious choice!”#vss365

1/26/2020

There it was, the row of arrows in the dirt betraying the citadels #range. The berserker danced just beyond it. “Haha! You pricks can’t get us!” The groan of a large siege engine under pressure squelched his bravado. “Ok, maybe you can! RUN!”

“Way to start a war, genius!”#vss365

1/27/2020

The paladin stared at the thick forest, “We have no idea where our #adversaries are.”

The bard gave a cheeky grin and pulled out her bagpipes. Three notes into Danny Boy and the woods thrashed with men covering their ears. “Works every time!”

“You’re a sadist.”#vss365

1/28/2020

“Sorry, but I’m spent.” The mage leaned heavily against the wall. “We’re going to need a true miracle now.”

The party turned to the paladin. He cringed. “Well I #could, except I’m still on my deity’s blacklist.”

“Told you that date with a priestess was crossing a line.”#vss365

1/29/2020

The bard leaned on the counter. “Trust me, no one in this world can compete with my friend here.”

The paladin grinned, thrusting his chest out.

“He is the most #tremendous prick yo–”

He clamped a hand over the bard’s mouth. “Ok, thank you, that’s too much honesty!”#vss365

1/30/2020

“So here’s the plan, we have the bard stand at the entrance and distract the monster while the rogue does a sneak attack.”

“Wait a second. You have a better attack, paladin!”

“Yes, but the bard is #extra annoying and you are expendable. So we have that. Let’s go.”#vss365

1/31/2020

“Don’t go in there!” The rogue was a touch too late as the mage opened the door to be pummeled by the scent of flowers pervading his chambers. “The druid thought it needed a little refreshing.”

“Isn’t this just #rosy.”

“It’s almost Valentines Day. Maybe she likes you.”#vss365

December Twitter-Splosion

Every day a different prompt, every day a different tale in a Twitter! Here is all of December’s in one shot. A wild collection of humor, morbidity, and whatever else popped into my head.

DECEMBER

It’s been a year!

cowboy bebop finger guns GIF

12/1/2019

Blue sky, an ill wind blew as I soared over the white capped waves. No gull who longed to live ignored such an #omen. I opened my beak and cried out the warning. Squall! The tall ship sailed out of the harbor. Wind tore at my feathers as I fought to warn them. Turn back!#vss365

12/2/2019

“But mama, aren’t we supposed to hoard treasure and stuff?”

In the crystal cave Drhak’raria lifted her head and smiled down at her whelp. “Some dragons do. But you can’t consume gold. Eat your #crystal, dear so you can grow up strong enough to devour other dragons.” #vss365

12/3/2019

Hail fell into the high beams, #rice from the leaden heavens. I pushed the pedal harder.

“Honey, maybe we should pull over?”

“It’s the holidays, we can’t be late!” A second later, the road skidded out from beneath us.#vss365

12/4/2019

Never mess with a kitsune. There’s a reason those vixens have nine tails, it represents their #fickle nature. One minute they lavish you with the deepest love possible. The next their claws rake sufficient to make you wish you were dead!#vss365

12/5/2019

She turned and smiled at him. Not a comforting smile, but one that sent a shiver down his spine. Frozen he could not move. “They call me the sadistic #guru. And you, my foolish trespasser, are about to learn why.” He didn’t see the strike, but he felt it in his liver.#vss365

12/6/2019

“You’re such a nerd.”

“I am a #pixel warrior! I am undefeated! SHIT!”

“Except by a power outage.”#vss365

12/7/2019

Underneath the #amber lights the world shimmered in the rain. A beautiful sheen that lent a magical quality to the city. A place that lay in stillness populated by the bones left behind of a race that failed to adapt. Fate is a cruel bitch.#vss365

12/8/2019

She pads on paws soft as #velvet, silent against the pavement. Making her way through the city no movement escapes her eyes. There is a reason not even a mouse stirs on the Eve, it is her doing. The kiss of death, Holly, the master mouser of all seasons.#vss365

12/9/2019

Save the world, like real life is based on a novel starring a plucky hero. In reality I have as much #sway as a fly landing on a suspension bridge coil while some crazy yahoo standing on the deck cuts it with a chain saw. At least in my vision I have wings. He doesn’t.#vss365

12/10/2019

Light shimmers pierced the darkness of the chamber I have inhabited for what seems an eternity. Vision, a sense I have long forgone in my solitude. Is the light real? Or merely a cruel #mirage, painful to eyes that have not seen in years? Reality seems the illusion.#vss365

12/11/2019

“Heyya, Grandma? Quick, what’s the best way to #curry favor with a demon? Asking for a friend.”

“Why you lookin’ ov’r your shoulder?”

“Ummm … well … I may have opened that trunk you told me never to touch.”

“Then you shit out a luck, child. No one befriends that ‘un.”#vss365

12/12/2019

I stared at the #serpentine stone in my hand, squiggles of bright green seeming to swim, locked in a black sea. Like magic. I focused hard, remembering the tome’s words. The rock shivered, a hundred tiny eyes opened as my minions sprang to life.#vss365

12/13/2019

I flick the blinker on and glance over into the middle lane, waiting to merge. The red Porsche pulls forward, seeing a half car length between me and the van. She wedges the nose of her can in. Blocked. She’s lucky I #vow no vehicular aggression at a hospital driveway!#vss365

12/14/2019

Visions twist and turn to my will. I had always been a #lucid dreamer, shaping to my desires behind closed eyes. What a shock it must have been to see their world change before their eyes when mine were wide open too. Welcome to my twisted reality.#vss365

12/15/2019

Light spreads a #pastel hue into the velvet sky. Another day begins washed out and empty as I wander down the hillside for a visit. The stone cold on my back. The deep cut letters say you’re here. I linger locked in silence, waiting for the comfort of night to fall.#vss365

12/16/2019

“One cannot #wring blood from stone.”

The necromancer folded his hands and smiled. “One can if one possesses the skills and said stone is fossilized bones.” He snapped his fingers and the figures unfolded from the cavern floor. “Foolish mortal.”#vss365

12/17/2019

A stitch in my side. A tiny #sliver of pain nagging, nagging, always nagging! I long to forget, but the constant stab of the thing I cannot remove has become a part of me, driving me to madness as I long to scratch an unreachable itch. A vile memory eroding my sanity.#vss365

12/18/2019

“You will not have the world, sorcerer! Because I have the magical orb!” CRASH! “Shit!”

My companion buried her face. “Real #suave, butterfingers. You do know there was only one of those.”

“Mwhaha! You just paved the way for my victory. Bravo, hero.”#vss365

12/19/2019

I close my eyes and fade away. The pain, the suffering, the bitter rivalry that is what some call the real world. It’s vulgar and empty. I embrace my #virtual world. A place built to hide from the nightmare of reality. A place of healing refuge in the eye of a storm.#vss365

12/20/2019

“Some heroes we are. Stuck in a frickin’ cave! Alright wizard, time to magic us outta here so we can save the world.”

“Hrm, I have a #profound feeling we’ve seriously fucked up.”

“Geh! That better be sarcastic.”

“We have about an hour of air left. Last words?”

“Son of a-”#vss365

12/21/2019

The embers die into a soft cheery #glow framed in the stones. I smile, warmed by the crackle-pop of the flames deep within still eating away. Feast, my friend. Well, the documents said he got the house … he can have what’s left of it. Merry Christmas, asshole!#vss365

12/22/2019

Moonlight cast it glow across the floor, tinged red in time for the holidays. I sit in the easy chair warming myself by the fire, a glass of cognac in hand. Through the broken window the sound of blood dripped down the #icicle my hit man eavesdropped on. How festive.#vss365

12/23/2019

The table creaked under the weight of the largest dish of #pudding the village had ever seen. Narka held her hands high and silence descended. “Today we celebrate our victory! No more will our enemies call us weak. No more shall they speak!” Vengeance in blood pudding.#vss365

12/24/2019

I awoke in the locked room, my arms bound to my body, the odd sound like a #jingle bell tinkling from the hallway. I dared not call out as the white clad orderly peered through the slat, a ring of keys on his belt. What a Christmas present, committed to Bedlam by Father.#vss365

12/25/2019

Curled in my arms, his fur shifted against my cheek with every breath. All the years of his life counted in each tick of the clock. My heart ached to feel his shudder. Midnight chimed, before the last #grace granted Ashenpaw mercy. The bitterest Christmas morning ever.#vss365

12/26/2019

The snow is cold beneath my paws, a sensation I welcome in this new form after the ache of life. I faded from reality and embraced death thinking it would be a numb void. Instead I rise to #find a world of deep feeling. More alive than I was in life, I spread my wings.#vss365

12/27/2019

The world below the surface of the waves, my world. Smooth scales slid by pillars of #coral flashing delicate fronds of tiny creatures, my subjects. Bubbles rose up from the intruders, landwalkers performing their last task. A death wish. Venom filled my fangs.#vss365

12/28/2019

The moon shown over the valley cutting shadows into the fresh snow. My nose caught the scent in the tracks. One of them was injured. In my throat the cry arose, piercing the heavens. Moments later the pack answered in #harmony. The wolf pack’s litany of death.#vss365

12/29/2019

Behind closed eyes everything changes. A #circus of fantastic beasts dance in colorful rings bedecked in finery fit for the highest courts. All those who had vexed me during the day met their judgment by tooth and claw. The next day, I woke to find them simply gone.#vss365

12/30/2019

I swear the moment I walked into my grandparents no one recognized me. It was as if each family member had lived in a #cocoon for the last year, ignoring the hard work I had done. “You look terrible,” grandma said, “should take better care of yourself.”#vss365

12/31/2019

“Hold my beer!” He took a running leap off the roof, poorly executed thanks to the alcohol marinade. The result? A plummet straight down missing the mattress target and striking the trashcans. We clapped as he moaned, cheering, “#Encore!” My brother is a glutton for pain.#vss365

Shadow of Doubt

Shadow of Doubt

samhainsidhewyvern

I reached out and caught the leaf drifting down from the branches. A true masterpiece on a once living canvas. Red tips blazed at the end of the brilliant yellow center. The shrill cry of a sidh-wyvern caught my ear. I glanced up into the shivering autumn leaves and spied her unusual markings.

“What are you looking at, Ealaidh?” Seirm, my bard-in-training charge, flicked his stoat ears in the direction I was gazing.

I ruffled his headfur. “Tis the turning of summer to autumn. Surely you know about the lords of the seasons.”

He chuckled and flared out his short tail. “Of course I know the myth.”

“Myth?” Raising an eyebrow I cocked my head. “Surely you mean myths?”

He stared at me blankly.

“By the multitude of gods, what lazy tailed bard taught you? Oh never mind, it doesn’t matter. Sit. Learn as you should have been taught.” We settled on a fallen log dappled with lichen. The earthy scent filled my nostrils, that damp odor of deceased plants returning to the dirt that gave rise to it. Cycles.

“Seirm, my young bard—”

“I’m seventy-three.”

“My young bard.” I eyed him back into silence. “The seasons did not always turn. Ages ago, not long after the first tribes began the tell of time through Taliesin’s gift of music, Cernunnos turned to Io’s children. The earth had grown weary of supporting constant abundance. So in his great wisdom Cernunnos selected four special sidh-wyverns and gifted them with the power over the weather.”

“Yes. Everyone has heard the legends. But how can something so tiny effect the whole climate? They’re the size of hawks, that’s ridiculous.”

“You are not alone in thinking so. When first they were gifted, one of them suffered greatly under the burden of her task, even into the second year.”

The summer sun cast Muthadh’s shadow long as she stretched her scalloped wings over the hillside amongst the ghosts of shivering leaves. The hawk-sized sidh-wyvern let her translucent back frill tuck in tight as she wrapped her tail around her. Purple and orange scales hardly hid her among the ash tree’s bright green. She closed her eyes and shuddered.

“We are dragon-kin.” She swallowed, hugging the swaying branch with her clawed wings. “What a shameful jest. What am I compared to my larger cousins? A wisp to be blown on the wind?”

A distant cry shattered the air, Muthadh held her breath and spread out her wings prepared to bolt. But for what? She knew that boastful shriek, as did any who roamed the wood in the grip of summer. Luisreadh, the sidh-wyvern whose magic reigned over the season of prosperity. It was his breath that opened the flowers faces to the sun. The current of his wings that spread their pollen through the glades. His cry that summoned the heat of the blazing sun down on the earth.

Muthadh had woken. Luisreadh’s season … was supposed to be ending. Her claws gripped the branch as her eyes locked on her silhouette spilling on the ground. Thin, wiry, substanceless. She whimpered at her shadow of doubt. Green leaves buffeted her. Leaves that were her task to paint as vibrantly as Luisreadh painted the flowers. A warm breeze blew through the wood. Winds that were her task to whip into gales and strip the growth away. The sun winked through the canopy. The same sun it was her task to pull lower into the sky to let land to rest, if she could but summon the courage.

Memories of last year’s attempt paralyzed her. Last year … in what was to be the first turn of the seasons. She bowed her head and whimpered at her failure.

Autumn’s first day was today … and its bringer clung to the branch like a stubborn leaf. When she had opened her eyes on this day and seen the beauty Luisreadh had spread throughout the land, a lump grew in her throat. How could she wilt his beloved blooms? How could she rot this vibrant land? How could she possibly outshine the splendor of the sidh-wyvern of summer?

She spied him winging into the trees, Luisreadh swept through the branches screeching out his pride at his own work. His bright green scales splotched with all the colors of the blooms. Bright rows of spikes lined his back as he undulated through his domain. The spark in his eye lanced Muthadh’s heart. He wasn’t ready to relinquish. For the second time, autumn could not possibly come.

Her shadow shivered up from below, cast over Luisreadh’s masterworks. The shadow mocked her, she swore she saw it narrowing its eyes and laughing up at her. Coward! It whispered. Uninspired fool. Yours is the season of death. Who would ever embrace you? It’s no wonder that no one even missed your failed contribution last year. Crawl into a tree hollow and cry like again! It’s all that is left to you.

She tucked her head beneath a wing and stifled a sob. The gleam of bright blue sparked before her. She opened her eyes to gaze upon on will-o-wisp floating in the folds of her wing. The morpheous sprite floated down to the tree limb, brushing against the bark. “Listen …”

Muthadh bent down and pressed her ear close to the limb.

“Listen …” The wisp evaporated.

weary … rest … The limbs spoke to her in creaks and groans.

She snapped up her head. “You … you would suffer if I did not take over for Luisreadh?”

weary …

“But, you don’t understand. I would be killing you.”

sleep, not death … through winter … spring reawakens … without rest—as if to show her a leaf crisped on the twig and fell to the ground.

“Have you told Luisreadh?”

yes … he bids us to sprout eternal … we are not the evergreen …

Her frill crept up to full, flowing in the breeze between her spines. She watched the reigner of summer soaring on his breeze, oblivious to the cries echoing in the wood. He remained ignorant to the needs of the land. A snarl parted her scaly muzzle. Turning to the shadow of her doubt on the ground she glared hard at it. “Your pointless weight will not ground me. I am the reigner of autumn! This season does not come without my bidding. It is time.” She stroked the tree limb with her wing. “The land needs sleep.”

Throwing her head back, Muthadh released her harsh rasp. Her wings spread and slammed down against the warm current. A cold, crisp bite followed and enveloped her in a spinning frenzy. The skies overhead darkened, leaden with heavy rain clouds as a thunderclap echoed through the valley.

“Luisreadh! Summer has come to a close, the harbinger of autumn has awakened. Bow down and surrender.” She hovered above the tree grove, rain pelting her scales.

A brightly mottled arrow of sidh-wyvern flesh shot up from the canopy. Luisreadh led with his talons and a piercing scream. “I am not finished! I will never fall to you!”

“Spirited words.” She snapped her wing and rose out of his way. Enthusiastic as always, Luisreadh overshot and struggled to pull around and face her. “You know this is how it must be. The land calls to you, but you ignore it. Heed its cries, let it rest.”

Hotheaded Luisreadh bared his fangs. “You challenge me for the mantle? I would have thought last year when I beat you into submission you would have learned. You are not worthy!”

She cringed, the scar on her wing still tugged. But the pain had another effect. She wouldn’t let him win again. Autumn must come, even if he refused to heed the cry of the land. Rising toward him in the growing gale littered with shredding leaves she beat her wings, arching her talons. The chill in the air faded his colors. Each beat of his wings lost power as she stole the mantle from him.

His face lined with shock a moment before she collided with him, entangling him with her talons. He struggled, only to blink up at her. Muthadh carried him lower into the canopy, heading toward his favorite oak tree. “What … what are you doing?” His voice was barely a whisper in her gale.

“Laying you to rest for the turn of the seasons.” She gently nestled him into the crook of the tree, nudging his tail in.

The defeated summer sidh-wyvern’s eyes already were closing where he would sleep three seasons through. “But … why … I beat you into the hillside last year … left you broken.”

She breathed onto the oak leaves and they turned a brilliant array of reds and golds. “I already beat one opponent today. What need have I to prove to another?” A ray of sunlight broke through the clouds casting Muthadh’s shadow against the oak tree. Luisreadh’s eyes blinked back open as the shadow cringed.

Muthadh spread her wings and shot into the heavens, riding the rising gale with each pulse. Beneath her the world turned from one brilliant palette of colors to another of true beauty. The beautiful palette of change as autumn fell upon the land for the first time.

Out of the canopy Muthadh soared, wreathed in will-o-wisps.

Seirm jolted as the sidh-wyvern shot in a tight spiral over our heads and up into the leaden skies.

Placing a paw on his shoulder, I chuckled. “First time you’ve seen a myth, lad? Been around the bard camp too long. Welcome to the real world where there are creatures who truly command their surroundings. Take care to mind them. Especially the harbinger that prepares the earth for the winter sleep … she bares death on her wings.”

Passing the Mantle

journeysthrougha-brass-quill

Passing the Mantle

By Taliesin’s decree, a Traveler is never supposed to linger in one place for too long. But the branches of the pine cradled my body like Cernunnos himself made them specifically for my napping. Sheltered from the blanket of snow with my weary footpaws free of the clinging frozen slush, I reclined in those swaying boughs dreaming the full cycle of a moon away … or more. I’m not precisely certain how long fate plotted to disrupt my urge for perpetual slumber.

But disrupt my sleep it did!

SCHLOOMP!

“Gah! That’s cold!” Every limb of my body thrashed as half melted slush crawled in rivulets through my fur chilling cozy warm flesh. The boughs parted, swaying violently in my startled protest. My tail spun, fighting to catch my weight as it slid precariously off my make-shift bed. Claws caught the bark and tore off strips as I swore through the list of gods for the rude wake-up. I made it to my pledged master by the time I managed to save my rump from a potentially majestic fall. “Taliesin if you have anything to do with this I’ll spin your legend with far more truth than your shining image can endure you piece of—”

My tirade faltered as two pale shadows screamed through the forest. Ahh the squeaking rage of two sidh-wyverns, discordant music to the ear. Crouched on the branches of the pine, I parted the needles and peered in the direction they had gone. By nature the tiny dragon-kin were known for feistiness, but this ceaseless chittering dialog betrayed something more.

Overhead a small body plunged and tumbled into the pine bows. I glanced up into the dappled rays of sunshine just in time for Rhew to land sprawled on his back in my lap. The winter-bringer shook the snow from his antlers, his spindly wings snapped warmth against my thigh. He bared his tiny fangs and released a full throated war cry out to the forest. His talons punched against my tunic-covered gut as he fought to right himself. Thankfully the suede held.

“Oww! Hey!” I grabbed onto his tail and held him despite his wild flapping. “Rhew, what has gotten into you?”

He turned and snapped at my paw.

I flicked his nose, leaving him to shake his head with a snarl. “Knock some sense into that rutting head of yours. Now what in the stars is going on?”

Once more he made to scramble for the open air. Rage burning in his bright eyes, he screamed again.

A scream answered. Not an echo. This pitch was higher. A tail flick later a pastel blur swooped down, talons tearing at the pine needles and flinging them. Rhew wrapped his wings around his body, ducking his head inside. Even in the brief glimpse afforded me through the gaps I had noted the bud-like horns on the top of the pink and green mottled sidh-wyvern.

“Ah, I see now.” Nodding slowly, I kept my hold on Rhew’s tail. “Cinnich’s awake now. Well, you know what that means.”

He stretched his wings and a shower of icy flakes sprang into the air.

“Now, don’t be like that. You’ve had your season. The world has slept. Now it is time for you to sleep while Cinnich wakes the earth and brings forth life again.”

Rhew hissed and clacked his teeth. His tail wriggled in my gloved paw.

Smiling at his defiance, I stroked his back until the rigid scales began to lie flat. “That’s enough from you, lord of the winter winds. If you remain in command there will be no thaw, no food. Every beast that relies on the land for harvest would starve, which is most of us who dwell in Caledonia. All that would be left would be you and your subordinate winter sidh-wyverns. The world would be a lonely place for you. It’s Cinnich’s time to paint the land in life.”

Cinnich spiraled into the branches and landed a wingspan away. Her thorned brows knit as she chattered at him. Soon both chirruped back and forth in a maddening cacophony. I held up a finger to her and snapped, “Enough! You’re not helping.”

She flared out her wings and shrieked.

Moss and lichen sprung forth on my muzzle. I stared cross-eyed at it. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you? Neither one of you.” Brushing off the odd growth before it could take root, I grumbled, “First snow in places that that haven’t felt a chill all winter, and now being treated like a rotting log. The things a Traveler must deal with. You would think that two spirits of the elements would have enough sense to manage themselves. But no. You two have to bicker about the turning.”

Rhew, still held firmly at bay by my paw, growled and flexed his talons. Cinnich behaved no better, sticker her tongue out.

“By the moss on a river stone! You two are not hatchlings. But if you insist on behaving as such, I’ll lullaby both your tails into a deep sleep and we’ll just skip your seasons for a few years!”

Both of them whipped their heads my way, eyes wide. Not one peep.

“That’s better.” I released Rhew’s tail, he clambered up onto a branch and adjusted his wings. His eyes puckered as he gazed longingly out to the sunshot day. “I know Rhew, you are a fine painter of winter. And your craft is essential. But it is brief. Now you mush rest until the land calls for you again. The earth has summoned Cinnich, it is time for warmth and renewal. Let her perform her rituals. Pass the mantle, old friend. Just for now.”

Gradually he bowed forward, scale by scale overlapped on his neck until his head dipped below the branch he perched. The light dwindled in his eyes. A single tear flowed down his cheek, trembling on the edge of a scale. Cinnich’s wings stretched out. The horn buds on her head unfurled into flowers, giving rise to the twin fern fronds uncurling. All along her pink scales mottled by moss green brindling tiny white blossoms spread their petals as her colors intensified. Beside me on the branch Rhew’s once snow white scales lost their sheen, now faded and gray as he tucked his head beneath his wing.

“Less than a year isn’t so long for an immortal. Before you know it the world will call on you again.” I gathered his already sleeping body into my arms and nestled him into the protection of my abandoned pine boughs. “Rest well, oh lord of the winter winds.”

Cinnich

Cinnich flitted out onto the warm breeze, the sun shimmering off her blossoming body. Below me the snow pack retreated, vanishing in the breath of her wing beats leaving behind a carpet of verdant green. I dropped down into the new growth grateful for spears of grass beneath my footpaws. The cheeky sidh-wyvern of rebirth swooped down and struck me with her wings. Her vibrant eye winked at me as she chirruped in delight. The forest launched into answering cries as countless bright bodied sidh-wyverns answered her call, winging into the wood and to spread her magic. Spring arrived.

My footpaws itched with the familiar tingle that had been my constant companion over these many years, too numerous for my liking to count. The wanderlust called me no lesser than the earth summoned Cinnich to wake her. Grasping my walking staff, I heaved a sigh and took the first steps into the new turn of the season … into the same old, same old.

Summer, autumn, winter, or spring, the road is ever my home.

The Blind Division

journeysthrougha-brass-quill

Blind Division

 I know why you have come, human. I know why you stand here reeling in confusion. An ill-wind blows across your world. You wish to ask, how did this happen? You ask how could an ancient creature like myself possibly comprehend … oh, but I do. Perhaps more deeply than you can imagine. All I ask is shelve the human ego for a moment and listen to the truth I tell, of the gravest mistake the slan ever made. There is no easy way to tell this, but I will try.

blinddivisions

The slan once were a single race, the god Cernunnos bestowed his gift on all our kind, despite the lowly animals we originated from. Mangan, brucach, faol, radan, and cugar, we lived side-by-side in mixed shires sharing the magic we were god-blessed with. Magic ran in our veins. Every slan who drew breath shifted into their ancient form at will. That was precisely where the names of our kinds came from. The faol, like myself, could transform into a dire-wolf. The act of shifting healed wounds. A highly useful skill full of strength and stamina. For eons we basked in the benefits of our gift, our peaceful culture thrived.

That was until fate lashed out and a shadow darkened the land. On the nights of the full moon a ravenous beast tore through shires and dragged off innocent slan, from whelps to elderly. For ten years shire-folk lived in fear of this menace stalking in the dark, aware it was at least one, if not more, of their own. In the heart of a shire Uachdaran called out to his fellow faol that mingling with the other sects of the slan is what brought this accursed punishment. Magic, he decreed, was uncontrollable and a danger to all.

Most didn’t give his youthful ignorance a second thought, especially once the attacks ceased and peace returned to the lands. But Uachdaran did not back away from his belief. He beat his breast in every shire, and gradually faol flocked to him. The once-few grew into an army driven by fear of the ‘feral’ side of our race. Before long he abandoned the forested valleys and took his followers into the craggy hills. Walls of stone, he demanded, would keep them safe from the influence of the ‘feral’ magic. Within the walls of the first city, populated only by faol, he invoked a harsh ritual. All who wished his protection must subject themselves to the thorn of the yellow rose. Once a slan is pricked the poison prevents magic, even shifting, for a full mooncycle. Cycle after cycle, his followers bound rose stems to their arms to prove their devotion. A sea of flowery yellow pennants twisted the wills of thousands.

In the shadow of his impenetrable city, others took up a similar cry until there were segregated cities of ‘rose pledged’ folk. Cities of solely brucach, or mangan. The land of Caledonia closed up behind walls of division where the ‘feral’ were treated with suspicion.

The fear of their ‘wild’ cousins manifested into a raging fire. Driven into a frenzy by the war drums of the self-declared nobility, who claimed to be protecting their followers, the battles began. Armored squads trampled and burned shires. Folk were dragged into the city walls and bound with thorns. Those who refused to be bound were slain. Bards and druids entered the cities at their peril. Attempts to ease the fear only resulted in torture, paws and jaws broken, bodies bound in thorns cast down like scree on the mountain to a long and lingering death. Most hid to protect the vast collected knowledge, leaving many shires to fend for themselves.

Through the spark of one panicked voice, a war spanned generations. Only shires veiled by the magic of defiant bards and druids evaded the painful fate as our race lost our blessing to the tongue of fear. Pierced by the thorns, the youth behind stone walls grew up never knowing what they truly were. Their suppressed gift became a horror story whispered by the hearth … the truth of the deadly decade buried and forgotten. All the collective heard was that a shifted slan is nothing more than a feral mindless beast. They gazed upon carvings on the walls of their proud armies slaying shifted beasts, never aware that the dire-wolf on the end of the lance was one their own kind. Kin murdered kin in a glorified procession of cleansing.

What a shameful lie. The shift steals none of our sense. But I tell you what can, fear. The tongue of an unchecked paranoid individual convinced there is a reason to hate can do more damage than any shifted beast ever has … and that is why, effectively, the race of slan is now extinct.

Here I am, centuries later, an immortal Traveler, burdened to keep the history and watch it ever repeat, again and again.

The world bows as one voice treats opinion as fact and drowns out all other reason. One paranoid voice drums up hatred without stopping to listen to anything but confirming echoes. One vengeful voice builds a wall against an imaginary threat, blindly dividing the world into countless shards.

I have witnessed civil war before. I have seen it eliminate a once thriving culture. Seen it destroy magic … and now, I hear the cadence of the war drums building again. The blind division born of ignorant fear, and already the panicked stand with stones in their hands ready to stack them.

Open your eyes! Please, I beg of you! This has happened before, in your time, not just mine. The candles are already blowing out, the light is dwindling. Rekindle the flame of true understanding, quell the hysteria that kills innocents. Only knowledge can banish the boogeyman before the vile whispers drive your blade into the heart of your brother, before you wall up your sister.

Once the poison of hysteria takes root, there is no going back.

So wake up, before it is too late. The entire human race is too precious to lose.

gorachillusionary

The Legacy of Fear

journeysthrougha-brass-quill

A sword can slay whatever lies in its path. But fear is a devastating weapon, it cuts down lives generations down the path in a journey without end.

innercirclebards

A gathering of great minds, past and future.

That ancient adage clings to my slannic mind of late. I mourn for your world, humanity, because as a Traveler I know where this is headed. The true-master bards have not seen your fate specifically, but we have seen the signs before, ages past, in our kind. Mark me well …

For many ages slan lived a peaceful existence in shires nestled into the woodlands. Our kinds intermingled and hardly gave mind to our differing races. Whether we were cugar, mangan, faol, radan, or brucach mattered not – the god Cernunnos had made us what we were: all of us slan. The shires grew in number, our culture thrived, and we bards enjoyed revelry much of our days. Only rarely were we asked to sit judgement over a petty crime. Slan were free to pay homage to whichever deity they pleased. Free to select their mate regardless of race or talents. It was a legacy of prosperity. Our society was rich beyond compare …

… until the harmony faded into discord.

The wave started small. An aftershock from a tragic event involving magic. One voice cried out in fear that the ‘beast’, though concurred, would re-emerge! Why? Because the event proved any one of us could be turned against slan. The magic of the shape-shift, a gift from the gods to heal and restore, embodied the paranoia that could come hunting in the night. A beast sent to slaughter. Magic, a part of us all, became the first target of fear.

The voice fostered that fear and the flocks came in droves. More voices cried out and pulled into further divisions. Soon, those who turned their backs on the once-ways built stone walls to protect them from their wild and primitive ‘enemies’. Each stronghold divided by race, unwilling to let a faol live amongst a brucach, or a mangan amongst the cugar. Their world became shattered into fragments guarded by swords and pikes, shielded by armor against corruption of their own decree. They selected which deities the whole of their population would follow. And in an effort to kill magic they poisoned the blood of every subject, stealing any chance they would have of becoming their true selves. For they were afraid the beast within would tear through and stalk the night!

In the shires we clung to one another, intermingled and distraught as our world was decimated. Fires burned in the valleys when the armies marched to force the followers of the once-ways into death or blood-poisoning. Magic-talents slaughtered by the thousands not by sword or poison, but by fear.

The words resonated through the generations. Parent taught whelp to hate those different in race, creed, and talent. The flames of hatred divided us … yet we were all still slan. They just refused to see it. A magic that healed and restored, a magic that was at the core of our ancient spirits, lay twisted into the dark saga of a beast to be feared. A creature to be banished. It became law that any who tapped that sacred well and refused to suppress their ability must be put to death.

The hillsides, stripped of their once ancient forests, became populated with nothing more burial cairns.

The bardic circle watched as time eroded the society we had been birthed in … until it vanished. For once the shire-born slan were eradicated, the strongholds turned on one another. Their society born of fear of an enemy, they created a new monster to slay.

We watched our world die at the hands of ignorance and fear. We watched as kin slayed kin over misunderstanding and superstition. We watched as belief drove hundreds to slaughter out of hatred.

We bore witness to a legacy of fear spread unchecked until all that remains of the slan is the memories sung to the stones … our songs. The funeral durge instead of a celebration of our once vast diversity.

Humanity, the world is in your hands now. Daily cries go up of the atrocities perpetuated against one another. Regardless of their reason: creed, race, religion, gender, orientation, job, age … why do these unreasonable divisions keep festering anew? You are all human at the core … just as we were all slan.

A legacy of fear … is all that humanity will leave behind?

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Ealaidh, the Traveler