Book of Companionship (Full Version)

All Forums >> [Gaming Community] >> [Legends and Lore] >> Writers of Lore >> [The Bookshelves] >> Collaborations



Message


Eukara Vox -> Book of Companionship (2/13/2011 0:41:57)

Prologue: That Day
by Eukara Vox

Eukara watched them all work, movements flowing, eyes watching, hands writing. She took such pride in her assistants. She wouldn't be anywhere near what she was without them. Especially after the last few weeks. She nodded and looked down at the pile of parchments on her desk, glaring at the window the writings all traveled through from various universes to be stored here for eternity. They would not stop, no matter what chant, incantation or curse she muttered.

"If I may, Mistress Vox," Master Samak said quietly. "It is a curious time of the year, which oddly traverses the expanse of the multiverses at the same time. I have thought of researching why this phenomenon occurs at the same time in every universe and world known to us. It is quite fascinating, really."

"Have I completely lost my grip on time?" Eukara shook her head and looked at the rest of her companions.

"Time?! Did someone say time?" Gianna materialised. "That is common, for some reason, with certain people. Not being able to keep tabs on time isn't something to worry about all that much. I can fix it... what is the problem?"

"Her problem can't be fixed by your snappy fingers, Gianna." Xor popped his head out from behind a shelf. "Eukara has forgotten it is THAT time of the year."

As if a cue was given, all of her assistants said "Oooooooh" at the same time.

Eukara sat at her desk as things piled higher and higher, brow furrowed. This time of the year?

As she passed by, Fleur spoke up. "Depending on where you are, it is Hero's Heart Day, as on Lore, Valentine's Day on Terra, Nostafil on Coresy, Day of Flint on Frescha..."

"Oh... that day..." Eukara looked at her desk again, her face darkening slightly. "Then that means that all of these..."

"Poems and stories
Love's sweet declaration
Written for others
Life's great inspiration" Shreder called from atop a shelf.

Groaning, she laid her face in her hands. Each of her companions looked at her and silently sighed. Eukara hated this time of year. Love stories, love poems, love scripts, love adventures, love, love love.... "How could I have lost track of time? How could I have let this day creep on me? I am not ready for this!"

Everyone froze.




Eukara Vox -> RE: Book of Companionship (2/22/2011 21:14:21)

Presence
by superjars

Without warning,
You were there.

I thought that I was alone,
Lost in the world,
Sinking into the sea,
With no one to care about my passing.

And then,
You were there.

The world was spinning,
I was losing control;
My pain was increasing,
Getting harder and harder to bear.

I still don’t know how
You were there.

Rescued from the pit,
Escaping the jaws;
Dragged from the fire
And pushed out of the way.

How could I have known
You were there?

You lifted me up
From life’s dark designs,
You filled me with hope
And dressed all my wounds.

I am so glad
You were there.

And now we walk together
Through life’s ups and downs,
We talk and joke and laugh
Without a care in the world.

I see so clearly now
You were there.

The wisdom of the world says
“You can make it on your own.”
But I for one can say
That life is better lived with others.

So when you feel down and
When you are hurt;
When you feel alone
And disconnected from the world.

Then you can know,
I am here.

And that will make all the difference.




Eukara Vox -> RE: Book of Companionship (2/22/2011 21:15:58)

.lynx
by The Doctor

It's strange... how it works
All the folk live in packs
It's strange... but it works
Take a load off your back

To walk... alongside
Something I would like
To walk... while beside
One I know who is right

What sense... does it make
Is it odd or just fate
What sense... it does make
Yet to know is to wait

One chance... that I ask
To prove that it's true
One chance... I will take
For both me and for you

What good... could it do
The foundation is made
What good... that it does
All our souls have been saved

A gift... on your own
To be never alone
A gift... I don't own
Yet a thread has been sewn

It's real... I must ask
And question my dreams
It's real... that I know
Life is just how it seems




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/18/2011 18:44:49)

Forbidden Love
by Smalls

The lights of this town
They burn down on my eyes
Driving me mad.

You look at me with a smile
So carefree
So innocent
I forget my worries

I smile too

We walk along
Feet leaving prints in the sand
So impure
Just like us

You make me feel loved
The scar on my face forgotten

I finally can laugh
All formalities gone

My past facade is gone
I can finally be myself
Be free

You, a peasant
Me, a prince

Eating the forbidden fruit

Consuming the forbidden drink

It feels good
To rid myself of the mask
To scrape off layers of paint

Painted on me by others
Not allowed to shape my own destiny

Love is not one thing
It is a constantly shifting flame

It is constantly flowing water

It is also a rose bush
With a beauty that surpasses
Even its thorns

Love
Is everything to us

No matter what others
may think




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/18/2011 18:51:04)

Initiation
by Alexander Shiveran

“We are here for Hasco!” The man’s voice resounded across the bridge and the open water around it. Cernal Prison lay ahead of the man; at his back, a crowd of people stood, gesturing and shouting in a tight rabble that extended back to the end of the long stone span. Before the man a short span of open stone, six ranks of guards in a loose formation, and then the gates of the prison, imperious and wooden, solidly closed.

The commander’s voice seemed weak in reply, though likely only in that he struggled to be heard over the jeering crowd, “Return to your homes!”

“Give us Hasco!” The crowd took up the chant, a loud, reverberant cry that shook through the guards, seeming to rattle the very stones of the bridge. “Hasco! Hasco! Hasco!”

The man was a revolutionary leader, captured during an attack on a border fort. Hasco meant to overthrow the king, destabilizing the country. He said it was to give the power to the common folk, but that was absurd at best. Who had ever heard of a country without a king? It was just as likely as not that he was a foreign agent or spy, sent to weaken the country for an invasion. But the masses loved him, convinced he fought for them.

“Disperse immediately, in the King’s name, disperse!”

“Down with the King, give us Hasco, Hasco!” The leader of the mob took a step forward, and the soldier before him, after a moment’s hesitation, took a small step back, glancing over his shoulder at the commander.

“You have your orders, men.” The commander’s voice was oddly calm, unheard by the mob above its roar, but clear to the guards.

Heartened by the soldier’s concession, the leader of the mob took another step forward, and then another, the rabble edging forward with him, their chanting growing louder. The soldier stepped back again, and then to one side, the rest of the soldiers followed suit, the first rank moving back in time with the mob’s advance and dropping in to form a sold rank ten abreast with the second rank.

“Hasco! Hasco! Hasco!”

If the crowd found something amiss it gave no indication, pressing forward still. The front rank kept retreating, and the third rank dropped back, merging with the fourth. Two solid lines of soldiers halted suddenly, giving no more as they locked shields.

“This is your last warning, disperse now, and return to your homes!”

“We’ll take him back! Hasco! Hasco!” The mob surged forward, hammering against the thick shields of the guards. There was a moment of give, and then the first rank shifted, braced against the second rank, forming a solid barrier against the rabble.

“You were warned. Open fire.”

The adjutant, a younger woman standing next to the commander, glanced over at the man, biting her lip. “Sir, are you, certain?”

His eyes never wavered, though she thought, hoped, that she spotted a flicker of something like remorse in his eyes. “You have your orders.” She looked down at the ground silently, her thoughts lost in the straining of the guards, metal and leather creaking, and the screams of the frenzied crowd. “You have your orders.” Firmer this time, an edge of warning that the commander would not repeat himself a third time.

“Y-yes sir.” The young woman looked up and her face had hardened into a stern, empty mask, as her voice rang out, surprisingly strong and clear. “Form ranks, front line, draw swords.” There was a rippling stir, and short, hacking swords were drawn from the sheaths of the front two ranks as the other lines fell back slightly, lifting crossbows and aiming at the crowd.

There was a second of hesitation, of doubt as the mob seemed to still, and then hurl itself forward with an even greater cry. Her eyes met those of the leader of the mob, and there was a second of infinite silence, a stillness that went beyond words as their eyes met, and each saw, truly saw, the other. The adjutant saw realization dawn in the man’s eyes, a light touch falling onto her shoulder from the commander beside her.

The leader of the mob saw something die in the young woman’s eyes, her voice colder than the northern wind that wailed across Chernal Prison’s bridge in winter. “Open fire.”




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/18/2011 19:02:46)

Amour Interdit
By: Torn

As I held Torn in my arms, I could feel him shaking as he silently cried. I was not sure how long we had been standing there in the dark sewers. I patted Torn on the back and released him from my grip. His bronze hair was matted, and his eyes were now swollen and red. “It’s going to be alright. We’ll save them.” I smiled as he sniffed. “We should start moving; I don’t think this place is safe.”

“What place could possibly be safer to a pair of fugitives than the sewers?” he asked. A soft splash could be heard far off to my left. Both of our heads snapped over to the sound. I looked back at Torn and raised an eyebrow.

“What place could be safer, huh?” I asked with a grin. He rolled his eyes before grumbling that it was probably just a random object falling in the water. I chuckled as we set off, going down the path that Elano and Orvis had run down. We soon found out that the passage got darker and darker with each passing step. We clasped hands and continued down the passage. I stumbled over something in the dark. Grumbling a curse, I bent down to examine what I had tripped on, only to find a face staring back at me. I stood back up, a surprised yelp escaping my lips. In the dark and silent sewer, the sound was earsplittingly loud. I bit my lip as I heard Torn sigh. “Sorry.” I whispered. There was another splashing sound, closer this time. I stood up and strained my ears to try and listen for another splash. Nothing. I turned to Torn, who shrugged his shoulders.

“Let’s keep moving,” he said. We continued down the passage, the foul stench and ever present darkness slowly dampening my hope of ever finding a way out. SPLASH! We both froze; the sound was only five meters behind us. I slowly turned my head, but I couldn’t see anything. I swallowed dryly, and motioned for Torn to lead the way. A low hiss was heard as we walked. I glanced back again as we walked; a pair of luminescent eyes could be seen staring back.

“Run,” I whispered out of the side of my mouth. We began sprinting down the passage, the creature swimming after us; hissing happily as we ran. Torn stumbled and fell. I stopped next to him, and helped him to his feet; the creature was practically on us now. It leapt out of the water, slime and gunk clinging to its black scales. Its long jaw was filled with dagger like teeth; water was dripping off of its snout. It had a stout body with squatty legs. The creature snarled and began advancing forward. We stood transfixed in terror of the creature for a moment before I grabbed Torn’s wrist and began dragging him forward, the creature still following.

We kept running, my legs felt weak. When was the last time I had gotten any sleep? I pushed the thought out of my head and forced myself to move faster, Torn was lagging behind. The creature snapped at his legs. How long was this damn tunnel?! We turned a corner and were met with a blinding light, a small opening in the roof, hopefully leading to the city above. I pushed Torn forward, I watched him scurry over to the ladder, looking back into the darkness to see what I was doing. I drew a main gauche that I had hidden in my boots, and stood with the opening to my back. I might be able to wound the beast, preventing it from following us through some unknown opening in the sewers systems. I angled the knife and hurled it. It found it’s mark somewhere in the beast, as I heard it whimper and back off. I hurried over to the ladder. Torn was still there. He looked at me and said, “You’re really crazy, you know that?”

“Save the sweet talk for later,” I responded, climbing the ladder. We had spent less time in the Genetic Research Facility and sewers than I thought we had; it had been sunset when we entered, it was now a little after midnight. I raised myself out of the hole, and helped Torn up. There was nothing for us to close the hole, so we simply ran as far away from the area as we could. We had left the sewers and had entered what appeared to be a sewage processing plant, and I wasn’t sure which place smelled worse. When we thought that we were a safe distance away, we stopped to take a break. We were both winded and sweaty.

“What… was that thing?” I asked, holding on to my knees. Torn was leaning against a wall, trying to act like he wasn’t tired.

“Probably one of those Genetic Experiments we read on that doctor’s terminal… I think that was project Shredder.”

“A fitting name.” I laughed. Once we were rested, we set out toward the city, the darkly glassed skyscrapers somehow illuminating themselves from the inside.

“So… where do you think we can find Orvis and Elano? The Guards must have them locked up somewhere…” Torn began, but was interrupted by his stomach growling suddenly.

“I think we should get some food first, Thomas. Do you think that you can get us a free meal with that uniform?” He looked ahead, thinking about the matter for a moment.

“Probably.” He shrugged. We continued in silence, the moon having been blocked out by dark clouds. We stopped in front of a gate; the entrance to the processing plant. We opened the gate and continued walking toward the city. The streets were illuminated by a light which stood at the top of tall metal poles. The buildings between the skyscrapers were short and adorned with Loreằsaion symbols.

“So… where do you think we can find some food?” I asked. He looked at the buildings we passed, apparently trying to determine which building could possibly sell food. He stopped in front of a building with a florescent picture of bread and a goblet of wine next to the symbols.

“Hungry?” he asked. I grinned and followed him into the building. It was dimly lit, small candles present on the tables. A bored man stood near the entrance; he wore a black jacket over a white shirt. His face lit up when he saw us, clapping his hands together with a grin.

“Ah, a table for two, yes? A guard and his wife, yes?” his accent was odd. Torn blushed before stammering that we were just friends. “Taking things slowly, yes?” the greeter laughed, leading us to an empty booth. We took our seats; I could tell that Torn was still blushing. We were handed a small metallic device, pictures of food and a passage next to the food was written in Lorằ.

“Teré, I want to apologize.” I lowered the device and looked at Torn in confusion.

“For what?”

Torn sighed and looked down at the device before looking back up at me. “For everything that has happened to us, since… that day.”

I scrunched my eyebrows. Did he blame himself for everything that has happened? How could he? He wasn’t responsible for the Great War, his father’s death, and everything else that had happened.

“Torn, the Great War wasn’t your fault.” He sighed again.

“I’m not talking about the Great War, I am talking about the day… that I earned that name.” I was taken back; why would he bring that up? I closed my eyes as tears wetted them as I remembered the day.

* * *
I didn’t usually wear dresses; I really hated the sweeping motion and the fact I had to hold it up to run. But for the Prince, it was worth it. It was a simple red silk dress, and I had my hair tied back with black twine. I had a small choker around my throat. I thanked my maids before leaving my quarters. My soldiers looked at me in surprise as I passed them in the hall, and I couldn’t help but smile on the inside as I wondered what they thought had come over me. I continued my way to the Prince’s chambers. I knocked on the door and waited for him. He opened the door, and I greeted him with a grin. He returned it, but seemed grimmer than usual. He was dressed in a white tunic and black breeches, laced with silver, along with a pair of black leather boots.

“Ready?” he asked. He slipped his hand into mine and led me out of the castle and to a wagon, helping me inside. Thomas told the driver to go to the Optran Port. He stared out the window as we rode in silence. The hours passed and the sun was begging to go down. It would be sunset soon, my favorite time of the day. Maybe that was why the Prince had wanted to leave so late; he knew that I loved to watch the sunset on the coast. We reached the town and we stepped out of the wagon. Torn told me to enter the town, as he talked to the driver in a whispered conversation. I did as he said and wove my way around the cramped town. I was approached by a couple of random merchants on my way to the coast, but I dismissed them as soon as they approached me. I passed the ports and climbed down the few rocks that lead to the sandy coast. I found a rock being splashed by the turf and climbed on top of it. I slipped my shoes off and bathed my feet in the cool water. I sighed and looked at the setting sun. The reflecting water was bathed in an orange light.

“Enjoying yourself?” I turned my head and saw Thomas standing in the sand, a goofy grin present on his lips.

“I am, but I’m feeling a little lonely up here. Care to fix that for me?” I asked. He shook his head and climbed up on to the rock and sat next to me. I leaned my head on his shoulder and sighed contently. He wrapped an arm around my waist as we sat together watching the sun.

“Teré?”

“Hm?” I could sense that he was uneasy. I looked up at him as he took a deep breath.

“I think… that we shouldn’t see each other anymore.” It took me a moment for the realization to sink in.

“W-what? Why?” He had removed his arm from my waist and stood up, his back turned to me. His hands were clenched tightly in fists.

“We… have grown apart. I feel like I don’t know you anymore.” Tears were running down my cheeks.

“Grown apart? W-what are you talking about? I thought… I thought that...”

“Well you thought wrong.” He unclenched his fists and stepped off of the rock. I climbed down after him and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to face me.

“What is this about, Thomas? You can’t do this…I love you.” I saw a single tear trace down his cheek. He removed my hand.

“You’re of the common blood. I can’t be seen with you, and…”

“And what?” He turned his back to me again and began walking back to the rocks.

“I never loved you.” I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. He had just torn my heart out, just like that; acting like it was just a normal negotiation with a servant. Maybe that is how he viewed me; just a servant. I collapsed on the sand and wept, pounding the sand with my fists in my anger and anguish.

* * *
A tear escaped my eyes as I opened them and looked at the man that had done that to me.

“Eight years later, and you’re just now apologizing?” I growled.

“Look, I’m not proud of what I did, but I was forced to do it.”

“Oh sure, you were forced to rip my heart out, you big jerk!” I slammed the device on the table, drawing attention to our booth from the few other customers in the restaurant. He pinched his nose and sighed.

“It was my father’s fault. When he learned that we were seeing each other, he told me to end our relationship. He didn’t want you focusing on me or the possibility of a family. He wanted you to stay focused on your military career, what with the Loreằsion’s threatening to attack us. I told him that I would never do that to you, but he told me that he would exile both you and I from the kingdom if I didn’t. I’m sorry for what I said. I never meant any of it. I always loved you, and I still do.” He reached his hand across the table, offering it to me. I could see the honesty in his eyes. But could I honestly forgive him for what he did to me? I slipped my hand into his and smiled. I could.

“Je t’aime, Thomas.”




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/18/2011 19:10:47)

Grave Gifts
by Wildroses

When Carl got up, Evan was already awake, sitting at the table, and watching Princess trying to eat a textbook. As Evan was not trying to pull the book out of the dog’s mouth yelling about how much it had cost, Carl realised he was desperately unhappy before he even saw his housemate’s face. Carl did not ask why. He knew. It was always the same thing with Evan, and there was nothing he or anyone could do. All Carl could do was try and get through the day without Evan having a weeping fit or screaming at him.

“Morning,” Carl said, yanking the textbook out of Princess’s reach and dropping some cereal to stop her outraged yapping. Evan grunted a wordless reply. Carl tried not to panic. Wordlessness was a warning sign of imminent tears. This is a bad one, Carl thought. Quick, distract him! “It’s Friday. Do you want to go shopping today or should we put it off until Saturday?”

Evan raised his head to glare. “We always go shopping Friday. We’ve never once done it Saturday. Why would I want to put it off until Saturday?”

Carl choked on a mouthful of cereal. I’m an idiot. Thanks to a parade of well meaning relatives, friends and good Samaritans (all of which Evan now avoided), Evan had developed a hatred of people treating him differently because they thought he needed comforting. Carl had had Evan screaming at him more than once for this unforgivable crime, and it was not an experience he wished to repeat.

“Because...” Carl pretended he was choking again, just to buy time to think. “Because... it’s... it’s going to rain today! Yes, it’s supposed to rain really heavily this afternoon. The weatherman said so.”

The gleam in Evan’s eye faded from militant back to miserable. “Oh. No, let’s do it before the rain comes. How soon can you finish breakfast?”

If it means you won’t cry or scream for the rest of the morning I can be ready in five seconds. “I don’t really feel like breakfast after all. Let’s go right now!”

Walking around the shopping centre discussing purchases did a lot to improve Evan’s emotional state, but he still kept staring intently at mundane objects for a lengthy amount of time, another warning sign of imminent tears. While they were waiting in line at the bakery Carl decided to try to get Evan to talk about it. After living with him for five months, Carl had discovered through trial and error that Evan would come through these despondent periods with less weeping if he told someone what the trigger had been. Unfortunately, directly asking things like ‘Why are you upset today?’ and ‘What precisely made you miserable?’ was a shortcut to Evan screaming about not needing any sympathy or comfort. Talking about it was only effective if Evan was tricked into divulging the trigger naturally in the course of normal conversation. And being in a public place will stop him screaming at me straight away.

“That florist shop over there has some nice flowers. They’re very...um... colourful. I like those weird purple ones with the petals curling in every direction.” It wasn’t quite a lie; Carl did like them, but he was unlikely to have paid them any special attention if Evan hadn’t been staring at them.

“They’re orchids. My Mum liked orchids. I always used to get her some on her birthday.”

“When was her birthday?”

“Today,” Evan answered, confirming Carl’s shrewd guess. No wonder he woke up sad.

The baker came back with their sliced loaf of bread then, meaning the conversation revolved around producing the correct change. As they were turning to leave Carl had a brainwave. “Why don’t you buy some of those orcas…”

“Orcas are whales.”

“…those flowers and we can put them on your Mother’s grave before we go home?”

Evan actually smiled. “That’s a good idea. Do you mind waiting a minute while I go into the florists? There is no way you’ll fit the shopping trolley inside.

“I don’t mind at all,” said Carl.

Carl was telling the truth. He did not mind waiting a minute, or two, or five, or ten, but once he’d been waiting twenty he was on the verge of risking the theft of their entire weeks food supply so he could march into the shop demanding to know why it was taking so long to buy one bunch of flowers. Luckily Evan finally came out then, one arm full of orchids and the other clutching a frilly toy poodle with heart shaped spots embroidered onto its pink body. Carl couldn’t drag his eyes away from it.

“Where did you get that stupid pink thing? I thought it was a flower shop.”

“It’s a gift shop too.”

“Are we going to put that stupid pink thing on the grave as well?”

Even nodded. “Every birthday I gave her flowers, Jamie gave her a stuffed toy, and Craig gave her chocolate. Hold these for a minute, would you?” Before Carl could say anything Evan pushed the flowers and dog into his arms, and marched back into the shopping centre.

“Evan! Where are you going?”

“The florist didn’t have Mum’s favourite brand of chocolate! Just wait there for a minute!”

Having no alternative, Carl waited a further twenty minutes, cursing himself for not insisting Evan gave him the car keys. At least I could have waited in the car then. Why does Evan have the keys? It’s my car. He can’t even drive! How’d the keys to my car end up in his pocket?

While he was fuming on this an elderly woman stopped, stared for a minute, then smiled archly at him. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Carl stared blankly, then blushed as he realised he was still holding the flowers and heart covered toy. “They’re for my housemate’s mother.”

“Oh, you like older women, do you?”

“Not really,” said Carl, eyeing her greying hair and wrinkled face. “Excuse me, I see my friend coming back. Evan, you have to hold the orcas and stupid pink thing from now on. What took you so long?”

“We’re lucky we got through when we did. The queues now are awful...”

Evan kept out this topic all through walking through the car park and only stopped when Carl asked him for the keys.
“What? Why would I have the keys? It’s your car. I can’t even drive! How would the keys to your car end up in my pocket?”

“Well they aren’t in my pocket.”

“Of course they are. You just haven’t checked.”

“They are not! Do you think I’d have been seen holding that stupid pink thing if I could have sat in the car?” Carl pulled out his empty jeans pockets. “Look, see? No keys!”

“Have you checked your jacket pockets?”

Evan did not say anything as Carl pulled the keys out of his jacket pocket and unlocked the boot; he only helped move all the shopping into the car, reminding Carl of why he was happy to keep living with a guy who cried on a regular basis and screamed if he thought sympathy was being offered.

Carl put the last bag of groceries in and closed the boot. “So where is the cemetery?”

“Elvadore Avenue. Do you know how to get there?” When Carl shook his head, Evan continued, “Damn. Neither do I. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. You have a road map.”

“Um...”

“You do, don’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve lost it...”

“No, I know where it is. It’s somewhere in the boot.” Carl opened the boot again and stared at all the bags of shopping crammed inside, covering every spare inch of space.

Evan did not say anything again, only helped Carl take all the shopping out of the car until the road maps were located, then put all the shopping back in. Yes, I really do like Evan. So what if he cries and screams a lot? It’s not like he doesn’t have a good reason.

Even with the maps they got lost twice. Once at the cemetery Carl was expecting them to get lost looking for the graves, but Evan led him straight to the final resting place of his two brothers, father and mother. It was in a wall studded with plaques, about as wide as Carl’s forearm.

“Is this really where your family is buried?”

“Yes.”

“Um… your family must have been really skinny.”

“I had them cremated.”

“Right. That would explain how so many people would fit inside. Is it still called a grave, or is the term grave used only when it’s a headstone over a coffin buried in the ground?”

Evan shrugged. “I really don’t know.” He started arranging the orchids, chocolates and stupid pink thing on top of the wall. Carl surreptitiously memorised the dates of birth and death on the four relevant plaques for future reference. It was unlikely Evan would be any happier on Craig, Jamie or his Father’s birthday, and Carl didn’t even want to think about how Evan was going to be on the first anniversary of their deaths.

“Happy birthday, Mum,” Evan whispered as he finished arranging everything. “I really miss you all.”

Carl stood next to him uncertainly. He never met any of Evan’s family, or even Evan before the car accident which had abruptly turned him into an orphan and only child. For a minute he wished he had known them so he had some idea of what the best thing to say would be, or at least that university was teaching him useful stuff like what to say in front of your housemate’s family’s possibly not-graves. Right now it was hard to imagine what use it was knowing why it was scientifically tricky to colonise space or the aesthetics of Mathematics.

“I’m sure she likes those gifts a lot,” Carl said when he thought the silence was getting awkward.

Evan gave him a look of utter scorn. “Likes them? She’s a heap of bone and ashes, you moron.”

It had been a long, trying morning for Carl, and he’d never had much tact. “Yeah, well, if you decide to wish a heap of bone and ash a happy birthday, and give it flowers it can’t see, chocolates it can’t eat and toys it can’t cuddle I don’t see why it’s stupid to assume the heap of bone and ashes wouldn’t like them,” he snapped, and instantly regretted it. I guess I’m going to get yelled at in a public place for the first time ever. How could I have said that? Evan will throw me out of his place for sure and I’ll have to sleep in my car! Maybe I should offer to move out now...

“Evan...” Carl’s voice trailed off into silence as he stared at his housemate. Evan had covered his face and he was shaking. Tiny gasping breaths leaked through his fingers. He’s crying. What have I done? “Oh, Evan, I’m...” Carl stopped as Evan removed his hands from his suspiciously tear free face. “Evan, are you laughing? What are you laughing at?”

“I gave a heap of bone and ash some birthday presents!” Evan wheezed. “I must be insane!”

Well, I guess I’m not about to get yelled at or have to move out. I was always luckier than I deserved to be. After a few more seconds of solemn silence broken by hysterical giggles from Evan, Carl, with an eye on the rain clouds, suggested it was time to go home. They were just in time. The rain began falling as they pulled out of the parking lot. Evan stopped giggling in some dismay. “The presents will get wet.”

“Um, yes, Evan. This is what happens to things put on graves…and walls. They get exposed to all the elements.”

“Oh. Maybe the rain is better for the flowers than the sun. Mum always hated seeing flowers which had been outside so long get all faded and withered. They looked so ugly then.”

Nothing more was said on the drive back, or the numerous trips getting the shopping out of the boot and into the house. It was raining so heavily by that stage Carl was damp enough to need to change his jacket. Evan didn’t change his. He stood in the middle of the lounge room, dripping and staring at the bare mantelpiece while Princess yapped around his feet trying to persuade him to take her for a walk. When Carl walked past, Evan started talking.

“She always put the flowers there, you know. She said they made the room look much more cheerful. She often put Jamie’s toy up there as well. Then she’d share the chocolates with us all.”

Crap. I thought we’d averted the misery trip with the not-graveside visit. “Um…”

“This was stupid!” Evan interrupted, wheeling around to face him. “I didn’t buy those things for Mum, really. I bought them so I’d feel better. How am I supposed to feel better if we left them on top of a wall?”

“Er…”

“It isn’t what the Mum who isn’t a heap of bone and ash would have wanted, that’s for sure. She’d have wanted them here so I’d have felt better.”

“But Evan, we left them at the cemetery.”

“Well, don’t just stand there! Let’s go fetch them.” Before Carl could respond, Evan was hustling him out the front door. Princess squeezed out as Evan was closing it.

“But Evan, it’s raining!”

“All the more reason to get them now before they are totally ruined,” Evan said, ruthlessly dragging him to the car. “Princess! In! Good girl!”

“Can’t we wait until it’s stopped raining? And why do we have to take your dog?”

“Because it will be quicker to let her come rather than chase her back inside. Quit being such a baby about the rain, Carl. I bet it’ll have stopped by the time we get there.”

Carl, to his regret, did not take Evan up on this bet because it was still bucketing down when they arrived. Carl’s plans to stay as dry as possible were thoroughly foiled by Princess, who leapt joyfully out of the car and went dashing through the graveyard in excitement. As Evan was totally focused on rescuing his mother’s birthday gifts from the elements, Carl thought he had better get Princess back. Princess easily evaded his first clumsy grab and began sprinting. Carl’s efforts to match pace only resulted in him slipping on the wet surface and falling directly into a large puddle. He hissed as the water soaked through his socks and jeans, cold enough to have come directly from the Arctic. Princess kept accelerating until she was out of sight.

“Carl, what are you doing?” Evan yelled over the sound of the rain, arms full. “Stop fooling around and give me a hand, would you? I can’t hold everything!” With that, Evan pushed the sodden poodle into Carl’s hand. The water had trippled its weight. “Fooling around? You think I’m enjoying being drenched in icy water and holding a stupid pink thing? I’m miserable!”

“You’re noisy, too.”

This blatant lack of sympathy was too much for Carl. “That’s it! I don’t care about your dog anymore! She can stay here!”

“You let Princess out of the car? Why’d you do that? And why didn’t you get her back?”

“What do you think I was trying to do when I fell in the puddle?”

“Hold these a minute.” Evan pushed the flowers and chocolates into Carl’s reluctant arms and knelt down. “Princess!” Evan called, kneeling. “Come here, girl! I want my face licked!”

With a burst of speed Princess came rocketing over the graves and hurled herself into Evan’s arms. Evan slipped a hand around her collar while she was licking his face.

Carl glared at both of them and kicked, splashing the puddle over Evan. It wasn’t a satisfactory revenge. All it did was make Evan laugh and splash back.

Back home, when a newly dry Carl brought out his wet clothes to dry on the lounge room heater, he found Evan had been busy. The orchids were in the centre of the mantle piece, dripping miniature puddles onto the carpet. The chocolates had been taken out of the box, and placed onto a towel. Evan was sitting cross legged on the sofa drying off the hearted spotted poodle with a hair dryer. Princess had been given a vigorous towelling, but Evan hadn’t bothered to dry himself yet. “Have a chocolate, Carl. They still taste fine.” Evan turned off the hair dryer and put the toy on the mantelpiece, pausing for a minute to studying the effect.

“It is a stupid pink thing, isn’t it?” he said. “Mum always did have a weakness for girly stuff. I think it was not having any sisters or daughters and being an engineer. When she had a chance to be feminine she tended to make the best of it…”

Carl ate some more chocolate and listened. He didn’t need a university degree to know it was the right thing to do in this circumstance.




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/22/2011 0:40:09)

An Intermission
By superjars

The silence surrounding Kastio was deafening. He had only known Eukara for a short while, but it had become apparent early on that there were just some topics that were avoided. And this day was definitely one of those. The tall, book procurer shuffled his feet nervously, a few free hanging jars clinking against each other, disturbing the moment. He grabbed at them, trying to still their clamor, but as soon as he touched one, the room around him dissolved into grey mist.

<Aside>
To understand what happened next, you would need to know some things about Kastio. The man had never actively pursued any particular story or poem in his long history of collecting them. Unlike Gianna, who could go where and when she pleased, Kastio had always been more of a slave to the dictates of his time-travelling jars. From far across time and space, stories and poems called out into the universe, begging to be heard and known. Those myriad voices echoed throughout the cosmos, hunting and searching until they found one of his jars. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say “until one of his jars found it.” Regardless, once these two entities had found one another, the call of the work would climb their way inside of the jar and begin to call out to Kastio, waiting eagerly for their turn to get his attention.

And then, a simple touch of the jar containing the call would transport the collector in a flash of light to the time and location where he could find that work, setting him on a grand adventure to discover and hear the story or poem, recording it for all time amongst the other works in his collection.

And, when the journey was done, his memories of his time would come together, forming a shell inside which the story or poem was contained. They would wrap themselves lightly around the work, and pull it towards a very special jar, one of his first, one which stored and preserved all of the thoughts and memories that Kastio had. The jar he now held in his hands.
<End Aside>

The world coalesced into a fine autumn night, brisk and cool, and Kastio stood on the uneven cobblestone streets of a city. He pulled his cloak tightly around him, recognizing himself in London, glad to finally be dragged into a locale which matched his particular fashion sense. The story he was looking for whispered through the wind, beckoning him. It was close, and the tall man, hopeless to resist its voice, began walking towards it. He rounded a corner just as a pair of children raced by, narrowly missing bowling into the tall figure which suddenly appeared before them. They careened to the side, disappearing into the darkness almost as quickly as they appeared, without so much as a glance back at him. He could hear their shouts and laughter fade as they moved away, leaving him alone in the alley once again.

He walked on, stopping every couple of blocks to listen for his guide, following its every call. Buildings loomed around him, some large and overbearing, others squat and uninviting. Not that he was particularly interested in them anyway; his goal quickly became clear when he stepped from the alley into a large plaza. The area was packed tightly with all sorts of people: couples, some elderly people, and many small children rampaging through the crowd, slipping around and between people. The Globe Theater stood in the middle of the area, large and imposing, one of the spectacular buildings of this day and age. The crowd began moving, sweeping him along until he stood in front of a man with his hand outstretched.

“Oi! You got a ticket?” He said with a grin, gesturing towards the tall man. Kastio started rifling through his pockets, pulling out papers and string, some bits of glass and a couple of complete jars he hadn’t hung yet. The crowd around him started to get louder, telling the ticket-taker to kick him out of line. Finally, he reached into an inside jacket pocket and pulled out what he was looking for. The jar never left him without everything he needed to get his mission accomplished, but they rarely made it easy on him to find things. With a brief nod to those behind him, he handed the paper to the man, who gestured him inside.

The interior of the Globe Theater was even more impressive than the exterior. Hundreds of people lined the stands, with even more crowded together on the ground before the stage. The tall men weaved his way throughout the throng, searching for a spot from where he could see the show, but not be in anyone’s way. It wasn’t enough that he was fairly tall anyway, but add his top hat on top of everything and he could easily block people’s views from several rows back. Finally finding a spot, he looked forward as a hush fell upon the crowd and a lone actor walked out upon the stage.

“Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.”

(Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act 1, Prologue)

The story procurator listened in enraptured silence, drawn in by the ebb and flow of the story, actors floating onstage and off, playing out a story which touched his very soul. He could hear the writer’s pen dip in its inkwell at every turn, the image of its author penning his words overlaid upon this amazing performance, the two melding in a synergy of words and actions. As the show went on, he could feel the love between the hero and heroine, their tragedy at the hatred between their families, the sadness as each ended their lives. By the end of it, there were tears streaming freely down his face. The crowd exploded with applause around him and he joined in heartily. He had heard the story and it was now a part of him. Just like every time before this and each time since. All around him, the cheering and clapping started to drown out and the world was grey once more.

Kastio pulled his hand off the jar, blinking in spite of himself. Such powerful memories of one of today long past. That had been one of his many February 14 journeys, and to be honest, one of his favorites. He was thankful to get to experience it again. But there was still the problem of Eukara and her dislike of the day. He stopped his jars’ clanging and returned his attention to her.




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/22/2011 0:50:31)

Betrayal
by reaper0001

Marcus looked pitifully at his friend. Both his wrists were chained to the floor, and he looked about with wild eyes. His face was contorted with fear, dreading the inevitable. It pained Marcus to see his friend like this. But what he had done was unforgivable. Even Marcus could not forgive him. He had brought the death of thousands. He had nearly been the cause of the slaughter of an entire people.

They stood in the pit. A large, circular room of cold stone. Above was the sky: no roof topped the pit. Above, the sun beat down, or the rain, or snow or sleet. Punishment delivered by nature, to whomever resided in the pit.

Twelve others stood around the prisoner in a circle. They were, including Marcus, the Council of Thirteen, the leaders of the Order. The most powerful men in this land, and several others. Their word was law, even to a king. But that was not who they were at that moment: they were the Executioner's Circle. The judges of the damned. Each wore robes black as pitch, and a large hood covered the face of each. At their side were swords, gleaming in the dim light of the moon. These were used to pass judgment. And carry it out.

John's sweat-drenched face met Marcus' eyes, revealed by the angle of the full moon. Recognition sparked hope, and from that, desperation.

"Marcus!" he yelled. "Don't let them do this! Don't let them kill me, please!"

Marcus wanted nothing more than to look away. But that would violate the conduct of the execution. He himself would stand amidst the circle. John pleaded more, thrashing against the chains that held him.

"Marcus! It's John, your best friend! Please, you have to help me!"

Tears ran down John's face, mixing with sweat and blood. His only light was dwindling. Suddenly, the ring of steel filled the room. The head of the circle had unsheathed his sword. The judgment began.

His sword, perpendicular to the ground, pointed upward. A vote to end the life of the prisoner. John recognized this, and pleaded even more.

"We've known each other since we were children! We laughed together, played together!"

To the right of the circle's head, the next executioner unsheathed his sword. It too pointed skywards.

"We were always there for each other; when your mother died, I consoled you-"

Another sword came out of it's scabbard. Another sword pointed upwards.

"When I lost my brothers in the war, you helped me!"

Two more swords were raised to the stars.

"We were sworn brothers! We would give our lives for each other! That was the oath we made!"

The room was filled with the distinct ring of swords leaving sheaths. Ching. Ching. Ching.

"Please, I know what I did was wrong. Forgive me! Help me!"

Ching. Ching. Ching.

Twelve swords pointed to the stars. Only Marcus' blade was still sheathed. He had the last vote. John looked beseechingly at him, begging for mercy. Marcus closed his eyes. The sword left the scabbard.

The blades pointed to the heavens. The judgment was final: the prisoner would die.

"No! Marcus, you can't do this! Please!"

The circle closed in, shoulder to shoulder. The head executioner laid his blade on John's shoulder, an inch from John's neck. The one next to him laid his blade on the tip of that. One by one, the blades went down. If he moved an inch, he would be cut. His eyes were still locked on Marcus.

"Marcus," he said in trembling voice.

The ring widened.

"Help me."

A tear fell from Marcus' eye.

The ring of steel closed.




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/22/2011 0:53:52)

the truth about friends
by superjars

there was a time when i thought that my friends would always be there for me . now im not so sure about that . i will apologize in advance if my words are hard to read or if i dont make much sense but there isnt much time left before they come to take me away . if you are reading this chances are im already dead . so let me tell you a little bit about friends
i come from a country that prides itself on being friendly and kind towards all sorts of people . we havent been a part of any wars or anything like that at least since i can remember anyway . from our perspective that was a good thing . meant we didnt care much about the silly things that divide so many other peoples . on the other hand it also made us vulnerable . we accepted people for who they were . at face value . its too bad that so many people prefer to hide who they really are . my story is just one of a million i could tell you that all end the same . but mine is the only one i can relate personally
it was a cold day snow covering the ground and a harsh wind trailing through the trees . i walked as usual through the forest gathering twigs and branches for our evening fire . the twilight was coming near chasing me back to our home when i spotted her for the first time . she sat in the snow light trailing down from the heavens around her . it was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen moonlight streaming down to set her features ablaze with light and serenity . to say i was transfixed does not do justice to the emotions roiling within me . but as i stared i realized that it was late and i had to return home . that was not what i wanted to do of course but it needed to be done . and so i left quietly and quickly into the night but vowing that i would return the following day and find if she was still there
the next night i returned to the same spot this time earlier in the evening . lo and behold there she was bathing in the light of the rising moon as if it were a cascade of cleansing spray . if i had thought the day before that it was beautiful as I approached her today i was enraptured by the sight . she was like a goddess among men more lovely than any of the women who inhabited my city . as i approached she turned her head her voice ringing out in my ears like a glorious bell . she spoke words which i will never forget . hello my friend i have been waiting for you . i attempted to speak but no words would come out . why had this women been waiting for me and why did she call me friend . if she called me friend then we must be connected in some way but i had never met this women . the thoughts came tumbling through my head like a flood as i just stood there dumbly staring at her
well friend arent you interested in who i am and how i know you
her words jogged me out of my stupor at least enough for me to regain my tongue
i am indeed curious but why do you call me friend i dont even know you
but you are here and i have been waiting therefore we are friends i felt i have known you many years
you have
indeed i have seen you in my dreams for many moons dreaming of this meeting
her words spoke directly to me and i had no reason to disbelieve what she spoke . we discussed her dreams until it was time for me to head back into town . i urged her to come with me but she said that it would be impossible for her to leave her place at this time . with a promise to return i left her to her own devices and returned to start our fire
the next day i returned to the lady and then night after night for the next few weeks . we spoke of all variety of topics anything from common interests our childhoods and our dreams for the future . every night we talked until it was time for me to go and light the fires . every night i asked her once again if she would join me . every night she said that the time was not yet right
i must stop the story at this point . there is but a little of this wall left and there is something i must say before i move to the next . i fell in love with this girl . that wasn’t my intention when i first started speaking to her or maybe it was but there it is . in some ways i cant even blame her for what happened next for it was i who was the fool in all of this . i should have spoken to my elders or the other men of the tribe but i was frightened . scared that talking about her would cause her to disappear . worried that bringing her up would make her leave



The lone guard who remained stared over the wall, written in broken language, painfully etched in the stone with some crude tool. They had broken this man’s hands well before he had ever been sent to this prison and yet he found some way to write this. Without a second thought, the guard turned to the next wall, if nothing else than to pay homage to the strength of this man’s character as he was being taken to his execution.


we spoke for weeks and weeks . for me it felt as if it were years . i had not gotten to know any other person as well as this one but for some reason she still would not return with me to my city . her words became increasingly confusing and when i tried to draw some answer from her she dodged the questions as swiftly as a stag dodges an arrow aimed at its heart . i began to despair that we were doomed to just remain evening friends sitting out in the woods and talking of the many things that we shared . i wanted to share with her a life and a family but i knew not how to broach the conversation nor why she seemed so reluctant to join me or answer my inquiries . with each new night i began to fill with dread until it finally happened
this time next week friend
what
this same day next week i shall join you in your town
you will
is this not what you have desired
it is but i had given up hope that it would ever happen
of course it was going to friend it simply needed to be the right time
that is wonderful news i am most excited
and so there it was . the next week went by fitfully for me . i barely slept and couldn’t eat so giddy was i about bringing her home to the elders and my family . i received many the concerned look that week but they couldn’t understand what i was going through and so i didn’t bother them with it . if others asked what was going on with me i simply responded that there was nothing wrong and i was just happy to be alive . my people took me at face value of course and that was the end of their questioning
as the day approached my visits out into the woods became more exciting and alive . it was a joy simply to be in her presence and to be near her those days . we talked less and less and simply sat in silence staring at each other through the streaming moonlight . and then the night before came and i brought with me a special gift . it was something i had prepared especially for her . an item dear to my heart that had been passed down from my grandmother . a necklace made of feathers and silk and precious gems . i had added a few of my own keepsakes as was tradition and presented it to her a symbol that i desired her to be my spouse . there were tears in her eyes as she accepted it although had i known now what those tears were for i might not have been so overjoyed by their presence . she could not speak a word to me in reply as i stood there watching her with the gift cupped in her hands . she shook her head in silence head bowed to the ground and tears streaming down onto the soft ground . i moved over to her to comfort her but instead of the sobbing i had expected there instead was laughter
fool are you really so naïve
what do you mean what are you saying
this was much too easy quite possibly the simplest assignment ive ever had
what is this are we not meant to be with one another
no friend we are not meant for each other i am meant for greatness and you for death
but
with that she pushed me away and rushed towards the city and for the first time i saw my own folly . following after her was an entire force of men and women rushing towards my home intent on destroying it and all who lived within its walls . and then i realized why she had chosen me . the fire i built every night was the watchmans flame which protected the city from the enemy . tonight i had been so excited that i had not even gathered any wood for the flame nor started it . and now my city was in danger . i rushed towards it trying to yell out to the guards to prepare themselves to light the fire . but before i could take more than a few steps towards it there was a sharp pain in my head and everything went black
you can probably guess the rest . they brought me away from my home and slaughtered all who resisted . those who relented ended up in the same prison i was in . there was no way for me to even look them in the eyes knowing what i had done and how i had been deceived . some tried to tell me that it was the will of the gods or that it could have happened to anyone but there was no solace there . it hadnt happened to anyone but to me . i smiled when they tortured me laughed as they broke all of my fingers and both of my legs . i deserved everything that they did to me and much more . tomorrow is my last day in this life . i will make my final penance and leave this earth with all my sadness and pain . and i hope shes there to watch me . to see how bravely i leave this world . to know how much i still love her regardless of what shes done



Tears streamed down the guard’s face as he finished reading the final scrawls on the opposite wall. This is the people they had conquered? This was the man whom their queen had seduced and tricked? The guard walked over to the man whose chains kept him bound to the wall, but which could not bind his spirit. Bloodied and broken as he was, the man still seemed to be stronger than any man the guard had ever seen. From out of his broken mouth, the man uttered a few whispered words, just loud enough for the guard to hear.

“You want to know the truth about friends?”

The guard nodded slowly, a few choice tears still working their way down his face. He leaned closer to the man, focusing in to hear what he had to say.

“The truth about friends is this: you love them, no matter what they do to you or how much they hurt you. And you don’t ever apologize for that love. Now take me to die.”




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/22/2011 0:58:10)

Choices
by Alexander Shiveran

Alex smoothed the parchment in front of him, smiling as he recognized Eukara's hand writing. It was good to hear from her again. Not that he minded receiving letters from her assistants, but he had been worried about her, and it was good to hear from her again rather then getting notes about how she was doing. His eyes scanned the letter, and he remarked absently without looking up. "Slash, leave it alone, it is as big as you are."

Across the table from Alex, Slash crouched, her haunches elevated, amber eyes locked on the dragonfly courier that had delivered Eukara's message. The familiar was almost perfectly still, but for the slight flickering for her tail back and forth, and a minuscule tremor that a sharp eye could have detected running through her as she readied to pounce. The feline subsided after a long moment, huffing and flicking her tail negligently. "You never let me have any fun."

The mage rolled his eyes. "Hush, you. I give you free rein often enough, far too often most likely."

"That is because you are a sucker for my big, sad eyes."

"Don't start on me, miss." He shifted slightly, examining the letter. "Henah merewet... Now where have I heard that before?" Alex scratched his chin, considering, glancing idly at his familiar. "I mean it, leave it alone. Do you know where I left that reference on languages from the-"

"Third bookcase, second shelf, first book, third chapter, section eight."

"I suppose you know what it means too."

"Naturally."

"And you won't tell me."

"Naturally."

"Fine, start scribing the scroll for Eukara, I'll be doing research."

"Must it really be-"

"Yes, Slash, it must. I'll see you in a bit."




Choices

It was a very important choice, that’s what I was told anyways. I didn’t entirely understand it then, but he was right. Let me pause for a moment to clarify: I am a mage, and it is customary for mages to retain spirits as familiars, both for the aid such spirits can render as magical reservoirs and in terms of the accumulated knowledge such spirits inevitably amass over the long periods of their existence. The choice of a spirit to serve as a familiar was an important one for a number of reasons. Each spirit, much like each individual person, has its own distinct personality, its own areas of expertise.

Each spirit, like each person, has a Name. The capitalization is important, for it implies a True Name, the word, the collection of syllables that is indicative of a thing’s true nature. Knowing the Name of a spirit allows a mage to summon up that spirit, and if the spirit is willing, enter into a pact with it that will allow for the spirit to serve a mage as a familiar. People also have True Names; however, people are constantly changing, constantly reassessing who and what they are, and thus their True Name is a fluid thing, changing ever so slightly along with their perception of the world and their place within it. This is another way in which spirits differ from mortals; their True Names, their essential natures, do not change. Know the Name of a spirit now, and in ten years, or ten thousand years, you will be able to summon it, for the Name of a spirit is the essence of that spirit, and that does not change.

You will forgive me, then, if I don’t record the Names of the spirits from among which I was to choose. Names have power, and of this record, I cannot be certain who will peruse it, and I would not have any of those spirits harmed through the publishing of such knowledge.

The choice that I made was to call upon the spirit I have called Slash. I set up the ritual circle carefully, making the preparations as best I could, and then, once everything was ready, I closed the circle and began the spell. I reached through the barriers of time and space, across the boundaries of the worlds and planes. The spell brushed up against something, and I felt it set, a buzzing hum running back down the spell to me as the spirit responded to the compulsion, following the line of the spell back to the summoning circle.

There was a hissing snap, and the circle suddenly filled with a nimbus of mingled blue-white light shot through with streaks of yellow. The spirit careened around the circle, caroming off the barrier I erected to contain it, sending jolts of energy tingling across the barrier. I ground my teeth together, concentrating on holding the barrier up, preventing the spirit from breaking free. It was strong, surprisingly so. I hadn’t counted on the spirit being so eager to break free of the binding; my master had told me that all the spirits from which I would choose would be willing, if not eager to serve as familiars. For a moment I thought I might lose control of the spell; I focused, clinging tenaciously to the spell until the spirit finally subsided, taking on the form of a small nimbus of blue and yellow light, bobbing gently at the center of the circle.

I stared at the spirit for a long moment in silence, and then repeated its Name again, watching it shiver slightly at hearing its Name. “Spirit, I’ve called you here to make you an offer, to bargain for your services.”

The spirit stilled, and I felt a strange sensation brush across my mind through the link created by the spell. “What are your terms?”

“I will create a shell for you to inhabit, and maintain it to your desires, and in exchange, you will provide me with aid in forms of knowledge and aid in magical endeavors.”

“Is that all?”

I blinked, flustered and somewhat taken aback. “Is, that all? What do you mean?”

“Is that all you will require? What about physical support when you are injured, or advice on legal matters?”

“I... um, do you... really think that will be necessary?”

“One can never tell.”

“Are you being serious?”

The spirit bobbed slightly, then skittered to one side as if restless, or perhaps amused, it was hard to tell without a physical form to take cues from. “I am rarely inclined to jest.”

“But, will that cost extra? I mean, um, what else would you require in return for additional services?”

“I prefer to keep negotiations open. Have you chosen a form?”

I frowned slightly, unbalanced by the sudden change in topic. “Well, yes... I mean, I had something readied.”

“What?”

I bit my lip, confused. This was nothing like what my master had told me. The spirit was, odd, acting in ways that I had not been prepared for, that I had not been told it would act. I knew this spirit was supposed to have an odd view on some things; perhaps this was some odd sort of joke on its part? I had little enough to go on, I would have to work with the spirit, or end the spell and attempt to form a contract with another. I was unwilling to do that though, this was my choice, and I meant to stick with it, even if I myself was not certain why. “It’s... well, it’s a dog, a breed called a husky.”

“No.”

I blinked in shock, sputtering before I could stop myself. “What? But why? The form doesn’t mean anything to you, why refuse because of that?”

“I do not like dogs.”

“You... don’t... like dogs?” I puzzled over this statement for a moment, recalling all I could of what my teacher had told me. Spirits could be fickle at times, but refusing a contract for such a reason, that was unheard of.

“I have never assumed such a form by my election, and so long as I have a choice, I never will.”

“But, why?”

“Because what I am is not that which is a dog. You invest the shell with shape yes, but that shape is a result of ideas, as much as we spirits are ideas of a purer form. That idea marks us, is part of who we are. I will not be a dog, because that is not what I am. Unless you have another option, I refuse.”

The voice held a brittle edge to it, an undercurrent of something like threat. The spirit knew, as well as I did, that I could compel it to my wishes. I had its Name, and with that I could call it, but more importantly, I could work that name into the containment spells designed to create the physical form of a familiar, and I could do so without the spirit’s consent. I could snare the spirit into the shell I had made, but doing so would hurt it, and I could force the spirit to serve me, but it would not do so willingly.

I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t bend this spirit, so strange and independent, to my will, breaking what it was and forcing it to be what I wanted it to be. I had the power, perhaps, but I also had the choice, and my conscience would not hear of it. I looked up at the spirit, which revolved in the midst of the circle, almost uncertain now. “What about a cat?”

“That is acceptable.”

“Then, we have a pact?”

“We have a pact, master; bring forth the shell.”

“Call me Alex.” I closed my eyes, reaching out and conjuring forth the shell I had created. The form of the dog-shell sat inert, and I reached into the spell weave making it up, tweaking and pulling at it, changing the composition to change the form. At first I was uncertain, but after a moment I felt again the brush of the spirit against my mind, and knowledge flowed into me, showing me how to alter the shell, make it stronger, more precise.

I’m not sure how long it took, but in the end, my master entered the summoning chamber, glancing between me as I lay tiredly on the floor, and the grey cat curled up against me, tail switching as it looked up at my master. There was a faint note of surprise coloring the approval in his voice. “You succeeded.” He looked at the cat again, one brow arching. “I expected the wind spirit, and a dog-shell. Why a cat?”

I looked down at my familiar, then up at my master, shrugging. “It, well, it seemed right.”

He smiled. “Indeed, but, why the energy spirit?”

“It... well, it challenged me.”

He laughed. “It will continue to do so.”

“I... guess I’m counting on it.”




"Oh..." Alex smiled gently, tapping a finger against the page of the book in front of him. He waved his hand, causing scroll and quill to appear before him and starting to write.

Dear Eukara,

I cannot express to you how joyful I am to hear from you again. Though I have seen you, it does my heart inestimable good to once more receive your letters; I have missed them. I'm glad to hear that things at the Library are well now, and I hope that nothing untoward will happen to you and yours again. My own duties have been heavy of late, but Slash has helped me through, as your assistants no doubt aid you in your own work. Perhaps I will have time to stop in for another visit soon. I hope I might be so lucky, your library is a wonderful place, as are the people who fill it.

But Slash is waiting for me, and I can't keep her waiting too long, lest I incur her wrath for putting her off her schedule. I hope to hear from you again soon.

Sara nesa,
Alex


He bound the missive up with the scroll meant for Eukara's library archives, tying it up with a light blue ribbon and turning it over to the dragonfly. "I trust, friend, that you can bear this back to your mistress."

The creature made no response, but lifted the scroll and zipped away, translucent wings humming. Alex watched the messenger depart, leaning on the table as Slash rubbed against him, her voice curious. "What happened to the rib-

"Hush Slash, we have work to do, come."





superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/22/2011 1:01:14)

Finding Companionship
By Shreder

She walked in silence, walked in solitude. Above, a thin sliver of moon shone down through the overhanging tree branches, which arced back and forth over the path.

It was a path she knew well. Whenever she had a particularly bad day, when the taunting of the bullies at school and the fear of a single, drunken, abusive parent at home was simply too much, she would leave it all behind her and take this path. It was her peace, her only source of comfort.

She paused, as she usually did, at the small spring, where clear water gushed up from the ground before becoming a small stream that flowed away into the woods. Taking a seat on a rock beside a small pool, she glanced down at the water, seeing her own reflection staring back at her--the plain brown hair, framing a pale face from which almond-shaped brown eyes peered out. And then her eyes traveled farther down and she saw, somewhat ashamedly, the old, ratty clothes for which she had been teased at school earlier. Unbidden, a tear welled up in her eye, before rolling down her cheek to join the larger pool of water below.

At that moment she heard a stick crack somewhere behind her. Whirling around in alarm, she saw a pair of yellow eyes, which drew closer until she could make out the body of a dog behind them, a large black Labrador. The dog drew closer, its eyes fixed on her.

Her heart beat faster as a twinge of nervousness struck her, but the dog’s tail was wagging and, in some inexplicable way, the look in its eyes seemed friendly. When the dog had come all the way up to her it paused, then bent and laid its head on her leg. Letting her doubts and self-composure go, she threw her arms around the dog's neck and hugged it to her, burying her face in its fur and sobbing as she did. The dog was surprisingly patient with this treatment, as if it knew that it was offering comfort.

After a time, the girl got up and resumed her walk, but she did not walk alone. Because sometimes you find companionship, sometimes it finds you.




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/24/2011 22:50:08)

Emilia
by alexmacf

Long ago, a woman -
A beautiful, young woman -
Had a fiancé who drowned at sea.

She mourned and cried,
And tried and tried to love another
For she would get over it eventually

So Emilia told herself,
As she numbly crossed the floor,
To the suitor waiting at the door.

“Hello,” and smile,
And tilt your head and nod,
And never, not for a second, seem to be unsure.

She forced herself into the room,
Her glorious gown the subject of talk
Why waste such a lovely dress on such a worthless man?

She turned to him and tried to speak,
But he listened to her not.
Why? She was only a woman.

An advantageous connection this was
If ever it could be made,
For he was the son of a Baron.

Baroness Edmunds,
Her parents fancied her soon to be,
That she was his chosen

That night,
When all was quiet and all were gone,
He asked her for her hand.

Shocked but outwardly calm,
She gave it to him.
Now on her ring finger rests a golden band.

Her parents were joyous,
Her friends supportive
But still the woman couldn't forget

One week before the wedding,
She took off disguised as a Navy cadet

Her love was waiting,
Waiting at the bottom of the sea.




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/24/2011 22:58:38)

Lessons in Magic
by Gianna Glow

Dear Eukara,

I, for once, am not entirely sure of what time you will get this letter because of a distraction just as I sent it. It’s amazing how much focus it takes to send an object through time to a specific time and place. However, my brother as usual seems perfectly able to send everything out the door. Family! Well, I realized I have never introduced you or mentioned to you about my brother. His name is Galvin Glow. He is younger than I, though our years are hard to tell for those who are not time-traveling fairies. As with most time-traveling fairies, it takes years of practice to learn control of our magic. If you can’t already imagine it, below I’ve added an official court record from the day where I had to teach my brother how to move an object through time and space.



”Galvin! For the last time, sit up and focus! It takes concentration to send something through time and space. Try again. Send the book in front of you to tomorrow at noon and put it on my chair instead of your desk. When it disappears, I’ll go check.”

Galvin nodded, closing his eyes tightly with concentration. His tousled dark red hair was flying in all directions due to a mixture of exasperation and magic gone awry. A slight yellow glow swirled around the book and it blinked out of existence. Gianna sighed in relief, only to be hit in the head with the book. She groaned, rubbing her head.

“Ouch! Well, you’re starting to get the movement of an object in space, but you missed sending it in time. I need to remember to use a pillow next time I promise to help you with your homework. And over the chair? The book should have appeared under me… wait a second… Galvin!”

Galvin was by now laughing hysterically.

“I’m sorry, mostly! It was just too good of a chance to pass up! I didn’t actually mean for it to drop from that high up though. I meant to have it just appear on your head, but you should have seen the look on your face!”

Gianna started laughing as well. “Oh, ha ha ha. Watch your back now, brother dear, you never know when I will get you back!”

A pail of ice cold water suddenly dumped onto Galvin. He looked up spluttering, his laughter halted in mid-gasp.

“What? How did you do that?”

Gianna smiled impishly.

“Well, if you learned the current skill I’m trying to teach you, it's amazing what uses it can be put toward. I expanded on what I’ve been trying to teach you. I first teleported the pail to wintertime in the northern seas, I then teleported both pail and water back, but instead of sending it to its original place, I brought it above you. I also used the inversion spell you already know in mid-teleport so that the pail dumped its water as soon as it got right above you. I then caught just the pail and teleported it back to its rightful place before it could hit you.”

Galvin’s eyes widened.

“So, my pranks could be made a lot better if I learn this and learn how to combine spells?”

“Yes. Hmmm, let’s see if I can come up with an easier way of learning this for you. Ah, I know exactly how. Let’s use your strengths to an advantage, you prankster.”

Gianna spotted an uppity ambassador on the floor below. She motioned her brother to be quiet and follow her to the railing. The siblings sneaked over and poked their head over the edge for a quick glance.

“Ok, do the steps with me, except we’re going to pull this prank on Ambassador Ananas. Ananas will forgive me, we’re good friends. Plus he left a zombie pineapple in my bed last week and I haven’t evened the odds yet. You get ready to try and do the steps I did with the pail prank on him. I’m going to pull another prank at the same time. That will join up nicely with yours. Ready?”

Galvin grinned, his normally red eyes flashing yellow in magical preparedness.

“I’m all ready, sister.”

“Go then!”

All went as it should on Galvin’s side, but when the water poured out, he saw two potions pour into the water as well. The water turned a bright green and pink glitter was seen among the liquid. It fell on the ambassador and stuck immediately to his fur. Ananas looked at his fur, looked around and seeing no one, knew who it was.

“Gianna! Seriously! I told you I didn’t mean for the pineapple to zombify… I swear someone else did that!”

“Sure, just like you didn’t zombify the apple you gave me inside a gift bag?”

“…um… Can I plead innocent on that too?”

“No. I caught you doing it and you still managed to get it to me! We’re even now!”

“Shoot. I’ll get you back!”

“And I will return it two-fold as you know… two-fold in the form of two Glows!”

At this, Galvin popped out and grinned at Ananas. Ananas saw him and glowered.

“Double-teamed? Seriously? Awwww…. Can I at least get my Zombie Pineapple back? It was fun to kick and bite.”

Gianna and Galvin glanced at each other.

“…um… no. You are one weird werewolf sometimes.”

The two siblings then took off running before Ananas could potentially come get them.




As you can see, life is always interesting with family and friends about. My court is usually in chaos due to my brother’s unpredictable nature and his love of pranks. However, I love him and that is what matters. Through the years, friends and family have been and always will be very important to me.

Gianna Glow




superjars -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/24/2011 23:04:25)

Fall of Concrete Gardens
By Cow Face

Ours is not a happy world.

I traversed a thousand nightmares in my quest to revive my lover; her warmth laid hidden beneath a mausoleum of concrete gardens. Rose-blossom cheeks, dabbled with her complexion of charming old buildings, had long since gone grey. The dusky halo of softly glowing streetlamps had become harsh, blotting out the ceiling of stars. Were there any more stars? I could never locate them…

Like my lover, I am now old. Thirty years was I separate from her, in shame and fear of what she had become. During that time, I sought beauty in the land, and found precious little. All towns had suffered as mine had suffered—all were metal behemoths, mere hives for their denizens. Yet, I digress; I have spoken of this before.

Nigh thirty more years have I wandered, since finding that one ray of hope in her womb. Much has changed since then, both in the world and in myself. The cycle has repeated itself over and over again: from life to death, ever replenishing itself. One takes a very different view of things when one has nothing left. I found myself destitute; nothing remained for me to seek, besides this vague, quixotic search for Beauty. As such, I was enabled to look at the world not as an amalgam to which I belonged, but rather as a single entity, so to speak. Much like my town, I saw it as a living, pulsing thing. Each person was not so much an individual to me, but rather a cell of this larger being.

What mainly amazed me is the observation of the cancerous growth within the organism. There are so many of us, scurrying about at cross-purposes, that very often, nothing is accomplished. Organ systems—the towns, that is—are failing as mine did, because no-one seems able to cooperate. We build things up merely to tear them down again; one step forward, one step back. I say this without rancor. It is merely what I have observed, and is most likely no more than an inch closer to the truth.

No one person can change the world. Nor is there anything wrong with this fact, per se. One person, one cell, can inspire change; still, it requires a majority to actually alter something. We often speak fondly of the underdogs, as we should- those who overcome hardship to alter things for the better are deserving of praise. Still, what we must realize is that a majority is required; the underdog must become an alpha before the pack responds.

I am not a hero. I am not a thinker, nor a speaker, nor aught else that one might call "inspiring." My quest for Beauty is a circular one; it has brought me back to the place where I began. The flower was a sign to which I should have paid heed. I was so close those years ago; why had I not realized? Beauty truly lies anywhere.

Over the past years, I have labored for no-one besides myself. I am a vain, avaricious old fool. Yet, I am happy. Concrete Gardens is still a bleak land of stone and metal; what I have accomplished is only to clear a little bit of it. I have a shack, and a small flower garden, to which I now walk.

Ours is not a happy world. What we must do is find our own happiness within the shroud of misery. I have found mine. I hope you may find yours.

The old man laid himself down in the flowerbed, closing his eyes. With a final heave of his chest, he released the breath that had been pent for eighty years. His quest was complete.




Eukara Vox -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/29/2011 11:46:17)

The Sky Collapsed
by Supertails

We both lie still, dreaming wide awake
A canopy of stars hung above
I idly smoked my twig cigar
Resting well in moonlit love
You told me we would close our eyes
Breathe the trees, and count to ten
I followed you, but snuck a peek
Looked up to the sky, and then
The first came loose, and quickly fell
From its shining post
I felt the chime of golden bells
The sound I love the most

The sky slowly collapsed
Stars descended
And I thought perhaps:
Every dusk has its dawn
And each cosmic light must have its end
And every hopeless boy like me
Has you as a friend

We ran and cheered, grinning wide
Watching spheres go down the celestial slide
I looked at you, you winked at me
And I knew we'd join in on the ride
Pixie dust in the atmosphere
Stars raining all around
As each ball of gas breathed its last,
Unhooked itself and met us at the ground
I felt your hand close around mine
The aurora shimmered in the sky
I wonder how long my smile held,
'Cause as you looked me in the eyes...

The sky slowly caved in
Stars descended
And I realized then:
Every dusk has its dawn
And each cosmic light must have its end
And every hopeless boy like me
Has you as a friend

The cosmos swirled around us
As I traveled the galaxies in your eyes
I got lost somewhere deep within
While our heartbeats harmonized
In that moment it rang so true
We were two of a kind
Maybe it’s silly, we’re still so young
Yet as you wander through my mind…

The sky let out a sigh
For it could no longer hold
Yet I thanked it for being so bold
And allowing me to find that…
Every dusk has its dawn
And each cosmic light must have its end
And even a hopeless boy like me
Has you…




Eukara Vox -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/29/2011 12:04:28)

Real
by Eukara Vox

[13:55] <LostInSydney> You can't be serious?
[13:55] <Sureen> I am totally serious! It's as if no one remembers that there is a world outside of this. Reality check, for goodness' sake...
[13:56] <LostInSydney> heh, if you required the reality check, people may actually start believing they have a life outside this company.
[13:56] <Sureen> God forbid THAT happen.
[13:56] <LostInSydney> Hey, speaking of, how are things on your end? You mentioned that there were some problems at home.... Anything get fixed?
[13:56] * Sureen sighs
[13:57] <LostInSydney> I take that as a no...
[13:58] <Sureen> They just don't understand. No one does. They think that I am too attached to... this. But, I am not on here all the time. I go outside, I leave the house... Heck, I have a lot on my plate. But no... that isn't enough. I am tired of arguing.
[13:59] <LostInSydney> So nothing you say or do gets them to understand?
[14:00] <Sureen> I wish
[14:01] * LostInSydney bites her lip. "I wish there was something I could do to help."
[14:01] <Sureen> You do enough. The fact that you are my friend does wonders for me.
[14:01] <LostInSydney> I still wish there was more I could do.
[14:05] <Sureen> Crap... I am being told that I have to go. I just got on and already they are on my ass.
[14:05] <LostInSydney> :( Sorry, Sureen.
[14:06] <Sureen> Not as much as I am. *hugs* I better go before hell breaks loose.
[14:07] * LostInSydney hugs. "Talk to you later.
[14:06] <Sureen> Later Syd.


"I know. God! Can't you just give me a minute to say goodbye?!"

"Give you a minute to say goodbye? Why? It's not like the people on there are really your friends. Just another name, another day." His mother's voice shouted from the back of the house. "Saying goodbye is ridiculous, Kyle. They aren't real people, not like the people you talk to in the 'real world' as you say."

"How would you know? You never make any attempt to understand or see what I do!" Kyle shouted back.

"I don't need to. All I have to do is take note of how much time you spend talking to people without faces, without flesh and blood in front of you..."

Kyle pushed away from his computer, trying to block out his mother's grating voice. He could still hear his mother complaining, but now the rant became a conversation with herself, mostly griping about how this generation was a lost cause who will never understand what it means to write a letter or really know a person face to face. Shaking his head, he got out his trig homework. If anything, that was definitely going to take his mind off of her incessant complaining. I wish she would just try and understand.




Casey sighed as she clicked on the farm she was tending on Facebook. It was something to keep her busy while her housemates partied down the hall. She had better things to do. She should be doing her homework, as she had a immunology test in two days. It was just that... Sureen's situation bugged her. Not like she could do anything, as he was apparently on the other side of the world. Still, she couldn't concentrate on her studies knowing that Sureen was miserable.

He never fully elaborated on what was happening. But she knew enough to know he was unhappy. His parents worked constantly, rarely having any time for he and his siblings. At sixteen, if he was telling the truth, he was the parent. "Is it really that hard to make ends meet that the parents have to work so much, neglecting the family?"

Though the question wasn't meant for anyone, one of her housemates had been passing by. "Talking to yourself about that boy again, yes? Really Casey, you need to forget about that boy. He's probably some 40 year old with no life. Besides, think about it. If he is telling the truth, it could be that his parents want a certain lifestyle that requires them to work so much."

Casey sighed. "But... why would you sacrifice your family for your lifestyle?"

The housemate backed up and stuck her head into Casey's room. "Because, different people have different priorities. Perhaps they think that this is taking care of their family."

"It sucks."

The housemate shook her head. "If you aren't going to join the party, study for your test, Ms. Doctor-to-Be. Stop fretting over the boy across the world."

The housemate bounded off to fetch more snacks for the party. Casey just sat there, staring at the farm that contained animals and trees that made up the colourful display. Finally, she closed the window and put her things away. There was to be no studying that night. She proceeded to go through her night routine, finally laying down to sleep.





[15:23] <Sureen> I don't want to be here anymore.
[15:23] <LostInSydney> Sureen, you can't just go. What would you do?
[15:24] <Sureen> Enjoy my freedom?
[15:24] <LostInSydney> Come on, you know that isn't what will happen. You are 16. 16 year olds don't just run away from home and suddenly make it big and live a good life.
[15:26] <Sureen> It seems much better than anything I have here.
[15:26] <LostInSydney> It wouldn't be. How would you get money, food, clothes, a place to stay? Sure, at 16 you could have a job, but don't you have to have a viable address to do that... references... parental permission?
[15:27] <Sureen> You aren't helping, Syd.
[15:27] <LostInSydney> Good
[15:28] <Sureen> >_>
[15:29] <LostInSydney> As much as I hate to say this, you have to look at more than just yourself here. What about your sisters? What would they do if you weren't around to help them? They are younger than you. If you are all they have in the way of "parent" what's going to happen to them if there is no one around to tell them right from wrong?
[15:30] <Sureen> I don't want to think about it.
[15:31] <LostInSydney> Tough. I am going to make you think about it. The oldest is nearly 15 right? So, imagine what will happen if there is no one to keep an eye on her. Say a cute guy comes along.
[15:31] <Sureen> Stop
[15:31] <LostInSydney> And if you aren't there, do you think your parents have the time to make sure she is staying clean and healthy, that she isn't doing anything she shouldn't be? No, they won't because they are too busy bringing in their paychecks. What would you do if you came home and found out your sister, who has a chance to be something since she is so smart, pregnant and getting ready to drop out to take care of the baby?
[15:32] <Sureen> don't
[15:32] * LostInSydney sighs. "And what about the other two. If the older sister has messed up, won't they? I mean, what kind of role model is a pregnant 16 year old in terms of responsibility. She will be so taken up by her own issues that she can't watch over them. What if they find drugs an escape from life? What if?
[15:35] <Sureen> Why are you doing this?!
[15:36] <LostInSydney> Because, Sureen, I have to. I care about you. We've been friends for over a year and I care. I know what would happen. You would runaway, fail, come home and see what happened in your absence and feel like a bigger failure. And there would be no one there to pick you up and hug you.
[15:38] <Sureen> I am too young for this, all of this! Why?!
[15:40] <LostInSydney> I don't know, Sureen. I don't have an answer, though I wish I did. If I could... I would fly over and fix this, slap some sense into your parents. Sure, you all have everything your heart desires, except parents. And that infuriates me.
[15:42] * Sureen cries. "I just want to be a 16 year old guy with teenage problems. I am tired of being dad.
[15:46] *LostInSydney holds and hugs. "I can't be there physically, but I am always here.
[15:46] <Sureen> I know. I just wish it was different. I wish my parents were around. I wish I could actually meet you in person to share all this with... I wish my life was different. I am envious of this friend at school. Well, not like total friend
[15:46] <Sureen> but an acquaintance friend. Both of her parents work, yet they are always home. And... they don't have a lot of money. I know they can barely pay the bills and her clothes aren't exactly great. I mean, WalMart can only take someone so far. But... she is happy. She smiles all the time. Her siblings and her laugh so much. And when I see them all
[15:47] <Sureen> together, parents and kids, I am... well, jealous.
[15:48] <LostInSydney> I don't know how to react to that.
[15:48] <Sureen> They have barely anything, yet they are a million times happier than I am. How is that fair?
[15:48] <LostInSydney> I can't answer that without being mean, Sureen. And at the moment I prefer not to say those things.
[15:49] * Sureen frowns. "That sounds almost ominous."
[15:48] <LostInSydney> Perhaps I am not the one to find the answer to it. Maybe you need to.
[15:38] <Sureen> That's a load of help >_>
[15:48] <LostInSydney> Sometimes, Sureen, the answers we want and the answers we seek are not the same things. What if the answer to your question is something you don't want to know? Do you still want to know it?
[15:49] <Sureen> Of course I do!
[15:50] <LostInSydney> Think about that carefully. Sometimes, some answers aren't worth knowing.
[15:49] <Sureen> This one is.
[15:50] <LostInSydney> I will be here, as always, when you get your answer. I have a feeling you are going to go out and search as soon as you can.
[15:53] <Sureen> Mom just popped in. I better go to bed before she starts in on me and my "unreal and unsubstantial" friends.
[15:54] <LostInSydney> yeah, probably best. Talk to you later, ok?
[15:55] <Sureen> Later Syd. and, thanks.
[15:55] <LostInSydney> Anytime.





"Hey, Monica?" Kyle ran up to a young girl in jeans and a T-shirt.

The young lady turned around and paused. "Kyle?" She looked around, almost nervously.

Kyle smiled and slowed to a stop in front of her. "Monica, can I ask you a question? I mean, besides that one?"

She laughed and nodded her head. "Sure, as long as you can ask and walk at the same time. We have class to get to."

"Of course!" Kyle grinned and walked beside her. "I was wondering, and please don't take this wrong or anything. I am not trying to be mean or rude or stupid. I just need to know." He took a deep breath. "Why are you and your family so happy all the time?"

Monica looked at Kyle strangely. "What do you mean, happy all the time?"

"I mean, well..." Ack, this is going to sound horrible, but I don't know how else to say it. "Whenever I see you, your siblings and your parents together, you all are really happy. But, well, I don't understand why. You seem to struggle along, you don't have a lot of money and yet, you are happy."

Monica paused, her step faltering. "So, I can't be allowed to be happy because I am poor? Because I am not rich like you?"

"No! That's not what I am saying. Please Monica, I said I didn't want you to take my question wrong. I just... I don't understand!"

"It's easy. We love each other." She stepped away, leaving Kyle behind. Though she tried to hide it, he could see he made her cry.

"Damn it."




He stood in front of the small, single story house. The paint needed touching up and the yard was far from immaculate, but it was a home. He could tell. The toys in the yard were so used that the metal trucks were more rust than paint. There were places where it was obvious "construction" was going on. The miniature playground for the toddler was covered in leaves, pebbles and... dolls. Kyle hadn't spoken to Monica in two days. Being around her was awkward and no matter how much he wanted to apologise, take back his questions and ask better ones, he didn't have the strength to do so. He hadn't talked to Syd either since that day, humiliated beyond belief and not wanting to admit to her that he screwed up.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked gently on the door. He held one flower, a lisianthus, his peace offering. Kyle knew Monica loved purple, so he figured this was a good step forward. The door swung open, a small girl stood in front of him.

"Hi."

Kyle looked down at her and swallowed. "Hi. Is... Is Monica here?"

The little girl turned and ran away from the door, her bare feet slapping against the wood floor. "Monica!" Kyle winced as the little girl apparently ran around the house screaming for her big sister. "Monica, Monica, Monica, Monica, Monica!"

"What, Cassidee?"

"The door, Monica. There's a boy at the door."

Kyle grinned despite his current situation. This Cassidee reminded him of his youngest sibling. "A boy? What are being silly about? There isn't a boy at the door."

Kyle could hear her approach, even if she was a quiet walker. He watched as she reached out for the door and began closing it without even looking outside. That's when he heard Cassidee's feet against the floor, apparently running towards them both. "No! There is!"

Monica groaned and opened the door, quite obviously about to prove her sister wrong when she saw Kyle standing on her front porch, flower in his hand.

"See!" Cassidee squeezed by her sister and waved at Kyle. "I told you."

Pulling her sister inside, Monica glared at Kyle. "What do you want?"

"I..." His voice caught in his throat.

"Well, I haven't all day! I have laundry to do and homework." Monica tapped her right foot impatiently.

"I..." He pushed the flower forward, offering it to Monica. "I want to apologise to you. I never meant to hurt your feelings. I was trying to be realistic. I really wanted to know!"

Monica narrowed her eyes and leans against the door frame. "Well, you have a brilliant way of showing it."

"Please... just let me explain better. Give me another chance." Kyle looked at Monica, on the verge of tears.

Taking the flower gently, she looked into his eyes. She had never seen a boy react like this. Perhaps he is telling the truth. "Fine, you get one chance, Kyle. Come in and pretend there aren't a ton of toys on the floor."

She opened the door to let him in. Kyle stepped through, almost gingerly. It was true, there were toys everywhere. "It's... beautiful..."




[15:23] * Sureen pounces. "It's been a few days."
[14:56] <LostInSydney> "It's been a few days?!?!" That's all you have to say? If I had known what town you live in, I would have alerted the authorities to your disappearance!
[14:56] <Sureen> Awww, you missed me!
[14:57] <LostInSydney> I don't find this funny, at all Sureen.
[14:57] <Sureen> But
[15:00] <LostInSydney> I've been worried! Do you not remember what you spoke of the last time you were online? You were RUNNING AWAY! You were leaving, never coming back, wanting to ditch everything.
[15:01] <Sureen> I'm sorry Syd...
[15:02] <LostInSydney> At least you are alive. >_>
[15:02] <Sureen> I... gosh, Syd, I wasn't thinking. I was busy doing what you told me to do and I just didn't think to let you know I was okay.
[15:04] <LostInSydney> What I told you to do?
[15:05] <Sureen> Yeah... you know, find answers?
[15:05] * LostInSydney blinks. "You.. you did?"
[15:06] * Sureen laughs. "Yes, I was!"
[15:07] <LostInSydney> It took you 4 days?
[15:07] <Sureen> Erm... yeah. It was rough. I did something stupid, had to rectify it and then had to think about what I learned.
[15:08] <LostInSydney> Now I am very interested. Are you ok, first of all?
[15:09] * Sureen smiles. "I am. And you were right, I didn't like the answer... but I needed to know.
[15:09] *LostInSydney hugs
[15:10] <Sureen> I made a fool of myself. The girl I told you about. Her name is Monica. And, well, even though I didn't mean to upset her in my questions, I did. I hurt her badly. I just didn't know how to ask the question without sounding like an ass.
[15:12] <LostInSydney> Ah, I wish I could have seen that.
[15:12] <Sureen> Verrrry funny, Syd.
[15:12] <LostInSydney> Anyway...
[15:13] <Sureen> It took me two days to work up the courage to go to her house and apologise.
[15:14] <LostInSydney> Let me guess, you asked her about things with an emphasis on money?
[15:14] <LostInSydney> Wow, two days... you must have really gotten yourself in trouble.
[15:14] <Sureen> <_<
[15:15] <Sureen> As I WAS SAYING... I took her a flower. She loves purple, so I took a purple flower and stood at her door and tried to apologise. I still couldn't talk right, but she let me in anyway to plead my case. Her house... wasn't the best, it wasn't the cleanest, I mean, toys EVERYWHERE. But... it felt like a home. It felt warm and nice. It felt what I always wanted...
[15:17] <LostInSydney> Oh Sureen.
[15:17] <Sureen> It's okay, really, Sid. We spoke for a few hours that evening. I was there when her parents came home and watched how everyone dogpiled on each other. And, Syd? Her parents looked exhausted, yet... they still let the kids do that. And before they could put down briefcase and purse, the kids were all already dragging them here and there
[15:19] <Sureen> showing them this paper, asking them to check that homework... And they... they did everything their children asked them to. There was no yelling, exasperation or short nerves. It was nothing but love. Tired, worn out love, but love. I never heard them get short with the kids. Sure, there were reprimands and disappointed voices regarding
[15:22] <Sureen> grades, but no one ran from the room crying, no one looked like they felt 2 inches tall. There were lots of "yes ma'am" and "yes sir" and then smiles. I had no idea things could be like that.
[15:23] <LostInSydney> Different family, different ways of doing things.
[15:23] <Sureen> But Syd... I would have thought that given their financial circumstances, it would be different. You always see it on TV> Poor families = bad homes.
[15:24] <LostInSydney> TV isn't God, you know.
[15:24] <Sureen> I know... Monica explained to me that at one time her father did have a high paying job, when she was younger. But, as an engineer for a big company, he worked long hours and was rarely home. She said one day he came home and said that enough was enough. No amount of money was worth it.
[15:26] * LostInSydney nods
[15:26] <Sureen> Monica said it wasn't until she was in middle school that she finally understood what he meant. But that was because she was old enough to ask the right questions.
[15:27] <LostInSydney> And how did all this make you feel?
[15:33] <Sureen> At first... I was angry. Angry at her, angry at me, angry at my parents. I was angry with her because she had the greatest life in the world. I hated that she was so happy. I kept asking why I couldn't be the one happy.
[15:34] <Sureen> I was mad at myself for feeling that way towards her. Monica didn't do anything to me directly and it wasn't right that I was mad at her. But, I wanted what she did and knew I wasn't going to get it.
[15:35] <LostInSydney> And your parents?
[15:39] <LostInSydney> Sureen?
[15:45] * Sureen sighs.
[15:45] <Sureen> That anger cam later. I thought about all that I had seen and learned from Monica. And the more I thought about it, the more I was angry. So I asked my parents one night after they were both home from work to talk with me. I asked them why they worked so much.
[15:46] <LostInSydney> And they said?
[15:46] <Sureen> They said it was to make sure that me and my sisters had everything we needed.
[15:47] <LostInSydney> I am thinking you weren't satisfied with that answer.
[15:49] <Sureen> No. I asked them if they ever considered working less. You would have thought I was asking them to give up a lung of something.
[15:50] <LostInSydney> Oh no...
[15:51] <Sureen> It was unbelievable. They tag teamed me Syd. My mom went off on how I was an unappreciative brat, that I didn't appreciate how hard they worked to give me the life I had. Then she would put her head in her hands all dramatic like and my father would start on me, telling me that if I thought I could run the family better, then I was welcome to get a job and start paying the bills.
[15:55] <LostInSydney> . . .
[15:56] <Sureen> I never got in a word. They went on and on for hours about how they had built up this life and that they worked so it could be this way. I began to see things differently. It wasn't us, Syd, that they were working for. It was them.
[15:57] <LostInSydney> Sureen, surely that isn't true.
[15:57] <Sureen> I point blank asked them. "If I asked you to work less hours so that we could all do more together, would you?"
[15:57] <Sureen> Their answer, in short, was "Then we would lose this life. I don't know about you, but it's a pretty sweet one. You get everything you want and more. Isn't that enough?"
[15:57] <LostInSydney> that's not good
[15:58] <Sureen> I stood up and went to leave their room. Before I opened the door to leave, I told them what I wanted. My voice was quiet because I didn't want to cry. But I told them.
[15:58] <LostInSydney> What did you tell them?
[15:55] <Sureen> I told them that I would gladly give it all up if it meant that we were a real family. Then I left and went to bed.
[15:56] *LostInSydney hugs tightly
[15:57] *Sureen hugs back. "I walked all the way to my room shaking."
[15:57] <LostInSydney> How have things been since?
[15:58] <Sureen> That was two days ago. They haven't spoken to me at all since then. My sisters have asked me why they are so mad right now and all I can say is that it isn't their fault.
[15:59] <LostInSydney> They will figure it out, well, at least the older one will.
[16:00] <Sureen> I am afraid of that, but she is smart. Should I tell her everything?
[16:00] <LostInSydney> That is up to you, but put yourself in her shoes.
[16:01] <Sureen> Then I will have to.
[16:02] <LostInSydney> Just be careful.
[16:02] <Sureen> Thank you, Syd.
[16:02] <LostInSydney> For what?
[16:04] <Sureen> For being here. If it hadn't been for you, I don't think I would be sane now. And, I don't think I would have Monica as a friend. She is more than just an acquaintance now, she is a real friend. And I love hanging with her family. A whole new world is opened up.
[16:06] <LostInSydney> Glad to be of Service. :P
[16:07] <Sureen> No, really. I have spent the last year that we've known each other ranting and complaining. You have put up with me a long time.
[16:08] <LostInSydney> Isn't that what friends are for?
[16:09] <Sureen> I know that now. I know a lot of things now and I think I am going to be a much better brother and friend.
[16:09] <LostInSydney> You always were, Sureen. You just needed a bit more knowledge.
[16:10] <Sureen> My name is Kyle. Oh! How did you do on your immunology test?
[16:11] <LostInSydney> A+
[16:11] <Sureen> Sweet! You are going to make an awesome doctor one day.
[16:12] <LostInSydney> Thanks Kyle. And, for the record, my name is Casey.




Eukara Vox -> RE: Book of Companionship (3/31/2011 16:05:34)

Epilogue: And understanding and Absence of Understanding
by Eukara Vox

She sat at her desk, knowing he stood there, that they all stood there. But she had felt the ripple, knew he had "left' and come back again. And, as she sighed quietly, he waited to speak to her about something. Oh no, not about something... about IT. She looked up through blonde eyelashes at her crew. They all could say something, but would they?

One by one, they inched away, Gianna to the science section, Xor back to cataloguing, Samak to mythology, Shreder up to adjust the poetry section and Fleur towards mysteries, which recently, had begun to get restless. In a way only mysteries could. Alone stood Kastio in front of her desk.

Eukara tried to go back to her work but he just stood there. She wrote a few things down and read over a poem, trying not to gag. Love poems made her physically ill. She had once had a doctor on Syfron check her over, but he declared her fit. So did doctors on Terra, Lore, Montepeli, Frenscha, Xylonefra, Grak, and all the other countless planets she had visited. Of course, she had only gone on the urging of her staff or Master Archanius.

Was it a crime to not be enthralled and hypnotised by all the blasted affection that permeates the multiverse on that day? Apparently so...

"If I may?" Kastio said hesitantly.

Taking a deep breath, Eukara looked up at Kastio. The others watched, though pretended to work. They had all been down this road themselves. Each had seen through this conversation. It was only natural, with Kastio being the newest, for him to breach the subject. She said nothing, only just looked at him, right eyebrow raised slightly.

"Why?"

Each assistant ducked behind their shelf. "Why what, Kastio?" she returned.

"What is your problem with this day?" It seemed the words just tumbled out of his mouth. Here, he had just left one of the most tragic and beautiful love stories ever to grace the stage and she sat there with contempt written all over her face of that very same thing.

Gianna looked at Fleur, who merely shook her head. Shreder hid his head under a wing while Samak pulled out a book and tried to be consumed within its pages. Xor paused, shook his head and thwapped a page upside the head to encourage him to sort titles.

Slowly putting down her quill, Eukara looked at Kastio. "Well, next time why don't you say what is on your mind instead of beating around the bush?"

Kastio screwed up his courage and looked her in the eyes. "I am serious. I just came from Romeo and Juliet, performed in London a couple of centuries before the current year on Terra. I saw the display of love, passion and --"

"Overdone."

"Pardon me?" Kastio blinked.

"I said the theme is overdone. The ancient writer Ovid, on Terra, had that story cornered on the Market way before the English and their theatrical hero Shakespeare. It's the myth of how the Terran bush, Mulberry, got its red berries. You should read it sometime, Pyramus and Thisbe." She looked back at her page and picked up her quill to write. "I believe the Chinese also have a myth about two who fall in love but cannot be together. I believe the woman is a goddess who lives in the clouds and her lover, a man on Terra. But I would have to search that one. It escapes my mind at the moment."

Kastio stared at Eukara incredulously. How could she talk of such stories so...academically, so nonchalantly? "Eukara... those are incredible stories. How can you be so, so--"

"Unemotional? So... flippant?" She continued to write. "Because, they are just stories. that kind of thing only lives in the imagination. Real life... real life isn't like that."

Fleur looked at her books, her face conveying a sort of sadness, a strange sight on one so rarely to show emotion. The others seemed to get much quieter. Kastio looked at Eukara and then at his colleagues. Something was amiss, something they knew and he didn't. But, it was obvious Eukara wasn't going to divulge any more than she cared to.

He stepped away and left for the gardening section. He had brought back a small update to a Synoreon gardening book in his last travels for Eukara, but in the rush and roar of the last few weeks, he had forgotten to put it up.

"She won't tell you."

Kastio looked around, startled. To the side he saw Fleur peeking out from her section. "Why not?"

"Because, you see, Eukara pretends to be this really strong person. And for the most part she is. But, that is because she locks away her emotions. You saw what happened during the darkness when she let them out. She hates to be emotional. In some way, she thinks it makes her weak." Fleur shrugged. "To be strong for all, she must lock parts of her away. All I know is... there is a reason she hates this day more than any other. We all know that. Just, some of us know more than others."

"And what part of this do you know?" Kastio asked softly.

"The part I know? She equates love with darkness. And on her homeworld, which before you ask, I don't know, darkness is pain, evil, nothingness and despair. That's the part I know." Fleur nodded slightly before disappearing into her aisle.

"But..." Kastio narrowed his eyes. She made discussions insufferable. He liked her, but boy could she be frustrating.

"You know why she likes Dragonflies so much right?" Kastio jumped, his jars clanging together loudly, at Xor's voice behind him.

"I assume that has something else to do with this day?"

Xor nodded. "It is the piece I know of the puzzle. Something happened on this day that hurt her, broke her into a thousand pieces. And the only creatures capable of putting her back together were dragonflies."

Kastio shook his head. "Put her back together... surely you don't mean that literally?"

"I do. Whatever force that caused her initial pain was able to break her apart, spirit and soul. Sure, her body stayed intact, battered, but it was whole. But, for some odd reason, only the dragonflies of her home planet could capture and repair her spirit and soul." Xor looked at Kastio in complete seriousness.

"And now... all versions of that creature, no matter the plane of existence, dimension, or universe... are connected to her?" Kastio took a deep breath, concentrating on the puzzle.

Nodding, Xor began to retreat. "Yeah, Master Archanius said that because of what happened, the Dragonfly carries a part of her. The part that you seek to find."

Kastio leaned against the bookshelf. This was by far, way too much to handle. Darkness, that pure darkness that personifies evil, dragonflies, million pieces... who was it he worked for again? A shuffle of wings and a low whistle pulled Kastio from his thoughts. Shreder and Samak looked up at him.

"We both hold the same puzzle piece." Samak began. "Eukara tries not to show too much emotion. She really doesn't. You can attest to that. But, she is fiercely loyal to us, even as far as sacrificial loyalty. It's how she makes up for the part of her that hates days of love and affection. Her only way to show affection is by protecting, serving and supporting those around her. None of us call it love, for that would get us in trouble. But the both of us know what it is like to see her wrath when someone she is close to comes to danger."

Kastio nodded, but still perplexed. "Thanks, though all of your stories only make this harder to solve."

Shreder nodded his black, feathered head.
"Indeed, the rest of us have tried
Our hands, or claws to understand
The mystery of how love died
But our answers don't work as we plan."

"You will have to ask her again. We all have." Gianna spoke above him. "She will either choose to tell you a piece of the puzzle, or not. I've seen what happened, for I went back to that time after she spoke to me. I regretted it, as it was my own betrayal of her. I regretted doing so. I learned a valuable lesson that day. Don't go looking for more than is revealed."

Kastio looked back at Eukara's desk and decided to go. He walked past the others and once again, took his place before her desk. "Eukara? Why do you hate this day?"

She looked back up, her eyes changed slightly. "I knew you would come back. They always do. Their answers," she nodded her head at the others, who stepped back, "weren't enough?"

"They are only parts of a puzzle, Eukara, not the whole picture!"

Eyes tired, Eukara sighed. "And you aren't satisfied with a piece?"

Kastio stepped closer to her desk and knelt. "No. If I am to understand you, I need to know."

"Can't I just tell you that some pains are just too hard to live over and over again?"

"No."

"War has a way of ripping apart everything. Enemies have ways of making you hurt in ways you cannot imagine. And darkness can take even the brightest light of love and squelch it into muck and mire. There are some things that haunt you relentlessly that cannot be exorcised. And that, Kastio, is where it starts..."

The library shook suddenly. It was as if there had been an explosion outside the walls. But... that was impossible, given that there was no way for such things to happen in the vacuum of the library's plane. When everyone settled, gasps of shock and horror echoed through the library. The mystery section... was gone. Just... gone. And with it, Fleur.




Page: [1]

Valid CSS!




Forum Software © ASPPlayground.NET Advanced Edition
0.28125