by Gary Foshee
will we survive? The trees, plants, the people, what will we do?”
“Do you see the stones of the wal s and temple? They will
climb down from their lofty towers and kiss the earth once more?”
Onuka didn’t say anything he just stood there looking at The
Augur in disbelief. The Augur walked down the steps and stood
in front of the cleft rock which hovered over him anointing him
with glory from on high. A third time The Augur called out to
Onuka. “Onuka, do you see these stones, stones which I have
made deaf lest they turn to dust and fly away trying to escape my judgment. I am about to wash away the filth of the people; I will cleanse Thunder Juice by a spirit of judgment and a spirit of fire.
Then these waters will flow once more and whoever drinks will
never thirst again. The water I give will become alive inside of them, a wel , springing up to everlasting life.”
* * * * * * *
Legion flew over the Sea Throne and through the Fire Gate. He
quietly soared through the streets filled with contention and
pride and past the colosseum, taking note of the skullduggery
happening below. He landed outside the lower chambers of the
Sea Throne and proceeded through the bulky dark-tarnished
wooden door with large iron handles. Inside, small creatures
scurried to get out of his way, as he hurried through the dimly
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lit hal ways. He rounded the corner and quickly closed the gap
between him and a four-headed beast with four eyes and four
horns on each head standing guard at the throne room door.
The first head was a beautiful woman with crystal-clear eyes,
long, wavy locks of green hair and a black tongue. The second
head was a man with coal-black hair that brushed his shoulders
and curled at the ends. He had black eyes, a large chin, and his ear lobes pointed at the end and covered with diamonds. The third
head looked like tree knobs covered with long stripes of rolled
sea grass twisted round—its eyes teetered crossways down its
face. The last face was the face of death. Skeletal bones outlined a ghostly figure with deep hollow eyes glowing of fire. The beast stood from its slumber as Legion approached, each head greeting
him spiteful y.
“What come thou Leeeegion?” asked the man in a smug
voice.
“Nothing of your concern, Enchanter,” answered Legion.
“Out of my way,” he said, trying to step past the beast.
“Way?” replied the face of death moving to block his way.
“We stand not in thy way, Legion.”
“To disturb him with the faults of fools would not be wise
great Legion,” said the woman, as she conceitedly moved her
face directly in front of his, trying to persuade him to disclose the purpose of his consult. Her silky-smooth hand adorned with
rubies reached up to touch his face. “We stand not in thy way
Legion. We are merely graced by thy presence.”
Legion grabbed her hand and abruptly threw it back. He
slowly lowered his hand and gripped his sword slightly exposing
it from its scabbard. “Your pithy charms do not beguile me, nor
do they hide the stench from your pestilent tongue which reeks
of envy.”
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Unscathed by his insult, “Envy?” laughed the ghastly face of
knobs with a vague smile. “We but pay homage to he who should
be,” implying that Legion should overthrow Mageddon.
Legion unsheathed his sword in a whirlwind of fury, grabbed
the knobby face and pressed the blade firmly against its neck.
“What did you use to be?”
Looted eyes looked down for several seconds before looking
up. “I was a rich and powerful man with a family and a wife,” it replied, glaring feebly into Legion’s eyes.
Legion looked long and hard back into its eyes and taunted,
“You were an adulterer and a drunkard who gave everything you
had for the lie. Treachery you are and treachery will never leave your side,” spit Legion, lips almost touching one another.”
He released his grip and returned his sword. “Stand in my
way again and I’ll cut your eyes out and feed them to the ravens.
The beast lowered all four heads in reverence.
Inside the throne room, dark spirits circled. Serpents slith-
ered around the base of the throne and ravens perched on ledges
high behind Mageddon.
Legion bowed low upon entering. He drew close to
Mageddon’s ivory seat sitting high on a pedestal of black marble.
“Where have you been?” asked Mageddon, attended by four
beautiful women on each side—two of them transformed into
red snakes with a black streak running over their heads and down their backs. They slithered down the steps and around his feet.
“Master, Grum, your spy on the western front, reports that
a large army is assembling for war. He believes The Augur is
returning to Thunder Juice Town and plans to attack the Scorpion Pass Gate.”
A raven transformed into a dark spirit and twirled around
Legion before flying out the window.
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Furious that this information was just now being disclosed,
Mageddon slapped a golden goblet of wine away from his face
and yelled, “Must I do everything myself? He assembles his forces right under our nose and I am the last to hear about it! Wel , if it’s war he wants then war he shall have. Summon Slither and amass
my forces. He will not have the chance to attack the gate. I will attack Thunder Juice first and burn it to the ground.”
Mageddon met privately in his chamber with Slithler. He
placed a crown on his head and gave him charge of all his forces.
“Go now and lay siege to Thunder Juice and all that remain.
Break down the wal s and destroy the temple. It is time for the
Great Serpent to be revealed. Awaken the secret weapon, but
keep him concealed until I arrive.”
High above the throne room in a long slender turret, a troll
sounded the Dragon’s Horn. Thousands of servants assembled at
the armory. Gathering their weapons, Legion loaded them onto
transports and left for the valley.
Lucky stood on the banks watching as the transports crept from
the fog arriving below the fal . The transports, long, curved timbers sealed with pitch and adorned with the face of a dragon as
its figurehead, mysteriously ascended up the fal . At the top, they maneuvered up stream, unleashing their beastly cargo to the
sounds of screams and cackles at the Titan. Blood-thirsty beasts from the Sea Throne united with those of the garden and valley.
They made their way through the garden to the Scorpion Pass
Gate. Lucky climbed down the gate and mounted the stone scor-
pion standing guard outside the gate, instantly bringing it to life.
He motioned to the mass and proclaimed, “Long ago we lost our
place of authority. His Majesty turned on us and cast us to this wretched place. He now plots to come and take the small amount
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of authority we have left. The Southern army has gathered at the Western front and is on its way to destroy us, and everything we have worked so hard to build:
Trick us once,
Shame on us;
Trick us twice,
And rol the dice.”
The army shouted. They beat their chests and shields at the
sound of his cunning tongue igniting their wicked murderous
hearts.
“The field is ripe,” he continued. “We will march to Thunder
Juice and trample the harvest. This is the hour that I will kill The Augur. When we reach the wal , we will tear it down and slaughter all who remain. Burn every house and rip the temple down
stone-by-stone. After that, we will march on the Holy Mount and
destroy His Majesty and take back the fiery stones!”
* * * * * * *
Under the cover of darkness they set out. Large Thunder Beasts
pulled battering rams and siege ramps. Trol s carried weapons of mass destruction across their shoulders. They twisted through
the mountains thirsty for blood. Up ahead they saw the lights of the temple piercing through the darkness searching for them, but The Shadow of Death covered them, concealing their approach.
The town was quiet. The moon, in full face, looked down on
Babbler leaving the tavern headed for home. Shutters closed as
dinner tables filled and chimney’s smoked with smel s of vege-
table soups, homemade breads and apple pies. An old surly man
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with a black hat, a long white beard and a walking stick, walked down the street and stood in the middle of the square. He puckered his lips and whistled a jol y tune, signaling his troops from afar. A soft hum filled the air as lighting bugs swarmed from trees and bushes just outside of town. They flew over the wal s and
assumed their post in street lamps all across town. A croaker
jumped from the banks of The Redmadafa and pushed a wooded
plank down into a hole—all the fountains around town and in
the temple courtyards stopped flowing.
Brook, lying in bed, sang a song about how The Augur saved
her from certain death by his mighty talons. Caboose sat in his
room under candle light, reading an ancient scrol . Rooter stood in the bathroom brushing his teeth preparing for bed. He pulled
out a bottle of blossom berry gargle and swished it around. His
cheeks rolled from side-to-side before he spit it out and wiped
his mouth. Silence fell in the bathroom for several minutes. From their beds, Rammer and his brother heard a song—it was a song
they had heard many times from their father:
“Stranded…
Stranded on the bathroom hole,
What do you do when you’re stranded?
And you can’t find a rol .
You can prove you’re a man,
If you wipe it with your hand,
Stranded.”
Rammer sat quietly in his bed shaking his head at the ridic-
ulous ode. The bathroom door squeaked opened. Rooter walked
down the hal way and rounded the corner. He picked up a toy off
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the floor and placed it in a crate next to the wal . He then walked over and tucked Rammer and Jambles in bed and kissed them
goodnight. He had many questions since coming to faith, but he
was real y starting to come around. He met with Adromus for
study during the week and had started going to the temple on
Sun Day.
“What is this I see in-between your toes?” he said to Jambles,
Rammer’s little brother, who didn’t say anything, innocently batting his eyes at his Daddy.
Rooter reached between his toes and pulled out a ball of fuzz.
“Are you boys going to bed without taking a bath again?”
“Dad,” said Rammer, looking over from his bed in the corner.
“We took a bath two days ago.”
“Two days ago, no wonder it smel s funny in here!”
“I don’t smell anything,” said Jambles, twirling a small stuffed white bear in his hands carved from almugwood.
“Of course you don’t, they’ve probably already crawled up
your nose and plugged it up.”
“They, who’s they?”
“Who’s they? They…are the Bel y Button Monsters.”
“What,” said Rammer, knowing his Dad was making it up?
“You just made that up.”
“You mean you boys have never heard the ghostly ghouly
story of the Bel y Button Monsters. Gather around boys, but let’s be quiet, so they don’t hear us.”
Rammer jumped out of bed and sat at his father’s feet. Rooter
held Jambles in his arms and looked around to make sure they
didn’t see him and then whispered:
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The Belly Button Monsters
The Bel y Button Monsters,
Are fuzzy wuzzy beasts.
Assembling their forces,
In a lint bal , they keep.
Sounding the alarm,
They drill deep and wide;
Until they break through,
Exposing your insides.
Through your intestines,
They sluggishly creep;
Parading to your heart
For a delicious feast.
So, next time you see,
The fuzzy wuzzy beasts;
Collecting between the toes,
Of your smel y wel y feet.
Stop them with soap,
Before they crawl up your legs;
And the Bel y Button Monsters,
Eat you: in your cozy wozy beds.
The boys jumped as he shouted, “Eat you!” Smiling ear-to-
ear, Rammer in his spooky voice wisecracked, “Jambles, you
better go take a bath right now before you wake up and your legs are missing.”
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Jambles, with a grizzled face, squeezed his father tight.
“Daddy, can I sleep with you tonight?”
Rooter smiled. “But, if you sleep with me and Mommy, after
they eat you, they will eat Mommy.”
“Mommy, Daddy’s scaring me.”
That night rooter slept on the floor, while a little boy, smel -
ing of soap, slept above his head with Mommy.
* * * * * * *
Morning came early with a red sun quivering on the horizon—
it sagged oppressively in the sky as if the mountain pass was
clutching its tail. The market opened and slowly came to life.
The smell of fresh-baked bread started its early morning door-
to-window routine. The blacksmith’s hammer echoed down the
cool, dew-trodden streets stopping at the square to play in the
fountain. Bugler fish tuned their bugles getting ready for their early morning ensemble. Large thunder beast entered town and
walked down by The Redmadafa. Their long necks stretched
down and drank several thousand gallons before they wandered
into the markets.
A soldier dressed in full armor standing guard on the East
parameter wall walked down the wall to the end of his post and
stopped next to his friend. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes from
standing guard all night and then leaned against the wall and
looked out at the horizon. “You see that?” he said to his friend standing guard at the next post. “Something bad is about to
happen.”
“See what?” answered the other guard watching the sun rise
over and walk down the black-peaked silhouetted mountains
across the plains.
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“It’s a red sun, that’s not good.”
“Why’s that?” asked his friend. He pulled a small dagger from
his side and chipped at the top of the wal .
He looked to the South and then North. “Red sun at night
and it’s His Majesty’s delight. Red sun in the morning…and it’s
His Majesty’s warning,” he said.
His friend bristled at the suggestion and clenched his fists.
They both stared at each other and then walked opposite back
down the wal .
Man and beast grudgingly grabbed their hats and said a prayer
before entering the brutal and dangerous mines. Myott, Chesty’s
brother, unlocked the mill door and opened the shutters. He
stretched to wake up, and after a long yawn, he looked out
toward the Northern mountain range. A thick dark fog hovered
just outside the North Gate. With his mind on the countless jobs he needed to complete, and grossly behind schedule, he turned
around, placing his elbows on the desk, and rested his chin in his hands. Abandoned by most of his workers foolishly dreaming of
fortunes in the new land, he spun back around.
The pit of his stomach churned vigorously and his spirit
leaped within. He vaulted from his seat and ran outside. Oh no,
he said to himself in utter disbelief. With Chesty on his mind he scanned the dark fog and grunted, “Little brother, it’s my turn
now. I won’t let you down.”
He ran inside and threw open cabinet after cabinet, looking
for it. He threw receipts, books and other objects all over the
floor. He opened another cabinet door, pushed some old ropes
aside and found it. He grabbed the ram’s horn and briskly stepped outside. He filled his lungs to full capacity and placed his dry lips to the horn, “AURRRRRRR. AURRRRRRR. AURRRRRRR.” He
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then proceeded down the streets, running at full speed blowing
the horn over and over.
Doors and windows sprung open. The people in the market
paused. Onuka looked up—he was praying at the altar when he
heard the horn. He jumped to his feet and ran down the aisle. He thrust the front doors open and looked around town and then at
the North Gate. He spun around and jumped through the temple,
swinging from the rafters, down the corridor and through the
hal ways. Up the Eastern tower stairs he climbed until breaking
through the bell room door. His muscular hands grasp the old
frayed rope, and pulling with all his might, the bell struck, Bong!
Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! The alarm sent residents into a frenzy.