Excerpt from ‘The Greylands: Volume VI:’
Beyond the Morning:
The historians and astronomers and geologists will tell you that the world revolves around the sun and that the earth is round, but my dear child, they are all of them wrong. Yes, quite wrong, utterly and completely. Men once thought the world flat and that the sun revolved around the earth, and I think, perhaps men were wiser in those days. Of course, this is a fairy tale so I might be mistaken, but at least in this particular world this happened to be the case. In the beginning of things this world had been quite like all the others, but men did not like the way things were so they rebelled against Him who made the worlds and quite made a mess of things. So it was that the world literally fell to pieces, leaving it flat with little bits like islands floating to the East and a shadowy chunk lurking beneath, where nasty things lived and breathed and had their being.
Mountains ringed the whole world about, keeping the water and most of the inhabitants inside, save for one small gap where the Great Sea found an outlet and fell in a great waterfall into fathomless depths below. But the sun boiled the water every night as it passed beneath this strange world and it fell again as rain very early every morning. Thus the Sea was fresh water (and not salt as you might think) and the world never suffered drought nor a rainy day that might ruin all the picnics. So in general, it was a rather prosperous and happy world. Except of course for that minor problem of man’s rebellion against his Maker. Besides for that minor glitch, it was quite a wonderful place to call home and an especially good place to have a picnic.
But what was to come of that little matter mentioned above which brought sorrow, death, illness, and violence upon a once joyous and peaceful world? Well, things certainly could not remain as they were, for the Master loved his creatures far too much to leave them in such a miserable story so He came Himself to set things aright. To think that He who made everything would leave unimaginable Glory to spend time amongst the very things He created, naughty as they were. At first, they were quite happy to listen to His stories and benefit from His miracles, but they grew tired of His preaching and jealous of His power, so they did the only reasonable thing and killed the One who invented Life.
Only you cannot kill Him, at least not forever (no matter what the skeptics tell you) and He lived again, but in dying He conquered Death and since the price of rebellion and sin is death, He just happened to pay for all the mistakes and bad deeds of His poor, sundered creatures. The only problem was, most of them were not interested in such a silly thing as redemption, thank you very much! They were quite happy with life the way it was and really could care less about such wondrous Love. They wanted to mind their own business and wanted Him to mind His, of course not realizing that their wellbeing was His business. So it was, that He went back to His place and left the world to do as it pleased, at least until that exciting day when He promised to return and stay forever and ever with his Creatures that really wanted to be with Him; the rest could spend all of eternity in a place where He would never bother them again and they could do very much as they pleased, which they would soon come to realize was not very much fun at all.
The centuries passed and men multiplied and filled the whole earth, and with more people came the obvious problems of greed, war, strife, jealousy, and rage with the strong oppressing the weak, not to mention an increase in littering and other such crimes. Certain countries were better or worse than others in matters of justice and peace, as is always true of the lands of men. In this particular time and place, it was a rather peaceful and prosperous country that was more just than many lands in the history of this world. Its neighbors too were relatively peaceful which allowed them all to dwell for a time in quiet harmony. In the specific neighborhood where this story begins, there were a number of rather rich and influential families with any number of well-bred and educated offspring, all ready to make their way in the wide world.
There were three boys who were quite good friends and had been since the dawn of time, or at least for as long as they could remember. There was nothing that could ever come between them, save perhaps those insurmountable forces of love and death, for taxes as we currently know them had not yet been invented. One of these young men was quite sick and on the verge of that dreadful enemy of mortality, or at least of childhood, yes, romantic love. He was quite sure he wanted to marry the most beautiful (and rich) girl in the neighborhood, and while his friends were quite happy for his good fortune, they really did not wish to see their little trio broken up. While our love-stricken Kyan was off romancing his ladylove, our two remaining heroes, Bayard and Griffin, fell in with an old man who told the most wonderful stories.
He told them of things long ago and things yet to come, of a Great King who had left his Eternal Throne to dwell among mortal men. Of the Great Enemy who had left the service of this King long before the worlds were made, and his intent to corrupt or destroy all that his former Master had wrought, including mankind. They were intrigued by these tales, especially when told that even Today, men must decide on whose side they would live and fight, for it was a war older than Time and none could stand aside or plead ignorance. They must either stand with the King or fall with the Enemy. Quite excited by this prospect, the youths dashed back to find the missing member of their little company who was just bidding farewell to his darling, both with stars in their eyes.
“I must soon propose,” said he, as if in a dream.
“Yes, yes,” said Bayard impatiently, “all in good time, but come, there is something you must hear!”
Smiling dreamily, Kyan did not resist his friends as they led him back to the interesting man who had so excited their young hearts. The man smiled upon the love-stricken youth, remembering his own days of courting, back when the world was new. Finally, the young man roused from his rosy visions enough to listen to those things the man had to tell. A thrill of excitement ran down his spine, for here was a purpose and a calling indeed!
To tell the truth, the boys and most of their cohort were bored. They had every material pleasure their hearts could desire but it was not enough. Kyan thought himself in love, but mostly he just liked being liked and had no comprehension of the true meaning of the word Love. They had no purpose, no direction, no meaning. What was the point of living? But here was an explanation for why the world was as it was and a challenge to live a life of significance. Said the man in caution, “remember lads, the Master demands your whole heart and being, your very souls! There are those that oppose Him bitterly and you might well pay for your devotion with your lives. If you still wish to pursue this calling, come tonight when we shall all gather in one place.”
The boys exchanged an excited smile as he told them when and where to gather, so too did the dark figure smile as he listened intently from his hiding place, but his grin held only eager malice, there was no joy in the gesture at all. The boys dashed off to further discuss these exciting revelations while the old man continued on his way. The dark figure went in search of reinforcements, for he wanted this to be a memorable evening indeed.
Just because they had a secret meeting scheduled for later in the evening, did not mean the three lads could miss the biggest ball of the season. They dandied themselves up to perfection and looked forward to resuming their eager conversation in some quiet corner of the great house that hosted this evening’s festivities. But their mothers and the assorted ladies their own age expected them to dance unceasingly for the first part of the evening. Having accomplished their social obligations, Bayard and Griffin managed to slip quietly away but Kyan found himself unable to disentangle himself from Suzanne, who though very attractive this evening, no longer dazzled his mind into pure and utter worship. He tried time and again to join his friends, but the girl was persistent and would not loose her hold on his sleeve. Finally he said, “Suzanne you must let me go! I cannot remain here any longer, for there is a needful thing I must do this evening.”
She pouted quite alluringly, “I had hoped you meant to propose this night.”
He swallowed hard, what had he been thinking to be so enamored with this girl? This would not be easy, but it must be done, he said as gently as he could, “I have come to realize I cannot marry you my dear…”
He trailed off as she shrieked, “what!?!” at the top of her lungs and froze the dancers in their steps. Kyan blushed scarlet, but did not lose this chance to escape the clutches of his lovely and furious companion.
His friends laughed merrily at Kyan’s predicament, but eagerly hastened to the secret meeting arranged by the old man. In the depths of the woods they met, with a glorious sky full of stars looking on and the trees standing in silent vigil about them. The embarrassed trio was the last to arrive and the old man said amusedly, “I was afraid you would not make it.”
“Now,” said he to the dozen young men that had answered his call, “you are probably all wondering why we are here?” There were several murmurs of excitement as the man continued, “I invited you here tonight to learn more about those things that I hinted at in our previous conversations. You are those who seemed most eager for this mysterious calling. It is in no way required that you go any deeper into this matter if all you wish is to serve our Master in your daily lives, this you can accomplish quite easily in your day to day living by following those precepts I have already imparted to you. This meeting is solely for those who wish to know more of this ancient war and your potential role in it. If you commit to this venture, your lives are no longer your own. You will agree to dedicate them solely, and wholly for the use of our Master and whatever task he appoints each of you. There are those who oppose us with every fiber of their being and every power they possess; they will stop at nothing to thwart our Master’s will. This quest will claim your lives, whether it be tonight or a hundred years from now, I cannot say but you must know this before we continue. If there are any here who wish to leave at this point, by all means, get you gone.”
There was some embarrassed shifting but no one moved. The man smiled grimly, “then if you are serious in this endeavor, I hereby swear you all to utter secrecy. What you are about to hear is known to very few who still walk this mortal earth. You know of the ancient war between the Master and His once great servant who has become His greatest Enemy. This Enemy does not sleep, nor is he willing to let mortal men live in peace. There are men abroad who have sold their souls into slavery to this dark lord, some even have entered a living death and have become terrible creatures that do naught but his will. What I ask of you this night is to join the ranks of those who oppose these vile men and their undead comrades, that your kith and kin might dwell obliviously in peace.”
The three latecomers exchanged wide-eyed looks of wonder, excitement coursed through their veins. The old man continued long into the night, making sure his listeners fully understood what it was they were about to undertake. Finally he finished and asked, “are there any who now would stand aside?” No one moved. “Very well,” said he gravely, “come forth one by one and swear yourselves to this service.” And so they came forward, each stating his intention to fully abide by all the old man had said, and then taking a long draught of water out of an ancient flagon. “Now,” he said, once the last had come forth. “you are each sealed to this cause. Your duties and service will vary, but in the days to come you will each know what is asked of you. Let us disperse before our enemies find us, go back to your homes, and await eagerly your Calling.”
The moon had risen and was well overhead by this time, giving plenty of light to the sojourners as they talked eagerly amongst themselves and started to slowly drift away toward their respective homes. All chaos suddenly broke loose amidst the scattered company as nameless creatures howled, wailed, and shrieked in the night, even as arrows and swords, claws and teeth struck wildly into the now panicked gathering. “Run!” shouted the old man, and then everything was terror and frenzy amongst the once eager initiates. Bayard screamed as something viciously sunk its claws into his back, but his two friends each grabbed one of his hands and drew him along in their flight. They found their horses still tied where they had left them, but mad with fright. They disentangled the panicky beasts, who needed no further urging to run. They galloped madly off into the night, heedless of holes or branches that might suddenly end their mad flight, only knowing that worse was behind than any danger that might lurk ahead.
They almost thought themselves away, when a fiendish howl behind them fed fresh fire into their horses’ panic and the fear coursing through their own hearts. They prayed desperately to the Master they barely knew for salvation and wondered at the strange fate that would rob them of their lives the very night they decided to make something of them. Griffin’s horse screamed, as only a mortally wounded equine can, and went crashing to the earth with his master upon his back, crying, “ride, ride! My horse has broken his leg. Don’t stop, it will be the death of us all…”
Bayard and Kyan exchanged a terrified look, wanting to stop their mad flight and aid their friend, but his cries were already lost as whatever was pursuing them fell upon their fallen friend. All they could do was ride on in horror and grief. They galloped on until morning, having heard no sign of pursuit since poor Griffin had fallen behind. The rosy shades of dawn revealed the Great Sea shining crimson before them as their poor beasts collapsed on the beach in exhaustion. A little boat lay upon the shore and beckoned to both of the exhausted boys; they exchanged a tired smile and quickly climbed into the little craft and put out to Sea. They soon caught the current that carried them swiftly east towards the sunrise and the end of the world. They collapsed into an exhausted sleep as the day brightened and the little boat floated gaily along, caught in the strong eastbound current.
The sun had set and both boys roused in the cool of the evening as the first bright stars appeared in the darkening sky. Bayard moaned in agony, for his entire being felt afire with fever from the deep scratches he had received from some fierce beast on the night that seemed more nightmare than terrible reality. Kyan said quietly, “why are we at Sea?”
Bayard smiled weakly, “it felt like the right thing to do at the time.”
Kyan thought back to that surreal morning and nodded, “I know of a certain that it was the right thing to do, but where are we going?”
Bayard shrugged and winced with the effort, “at least we left those fiends far behind.”
Kyan implored, “but what lies ahead of us? We have no food, you are wounded, this current will bear us right off the edge of the map!”
Sample of ‘On Sleeping Beauties: A Foible’
“No, no, no!” rang the irate fairy’s strident voice as she perused the text before her, “this will never do, not in the least! That’s not how it happened at all!”
“What’s wrong with it?” gasped her journalistic companion in surprise, “I thought you were a Reformed Evil Fairy or some such?”
Her glare froze him in his seat as she replied icily, “that does not mean I will swoon and sigh over this pathetic drivel you have the audacity to call literature. Not even my goody-goody sister is that insipid.”
“But what is wrong with it?” said the flummoxed, and rather nervous, writer in growing despair.
“The better question,” said the fairy wryly, “is what is right with it. Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” She frowned slightly and added, “that and it is utterly dull.”
“Dull?!” said he, his ire suddenly replacing his fear and surprise, “it is the consummate fairy tale!”
“That’s the problem,” said she with a heavy sigh, “I’ve had to give up the genre entirely in these latter years; it probably isn’t your fault, the world isn’t what it used to be. I suppose you don’t even believe in dragons?”
“Of course not,” said the man with a sneer, “why should I? Nor unicorns either, for that matter.”
“So you can
put a rider on your home insurance policy, of course” said the fairy with a laughing smirk, “what happens if a dragon should happen to fly over your house and sneeze?” He paled at this, wondering if his disbelief were so wise and trendy after all. She continued, “as for unicorns, there’s not really any practical reason to believe in them, but it’s to your own loss if you don’t.” He frowned at her, not catching her meaning but she was not about to enlighten him further.
Said he after a long and awkward silence, “very well, madam, I suppose since I importuned you for this very reason. You had best tell me how to improve my manuscript.”
“Much better,” said the Reformed Fairy of Blackfen, with something almost resembling a genuine smile. She took up the paper again and scanned the text, muttering under her breath as she read, “big party...angry fairy...the girl will die...irritating cousin mitigates the curse...pricks her finger on a spindle...long nap...smooch from a handsome prince...happily ever after.” She looked up at him and said solemnly, “if you must know, it is very tedious indeed.” His mouth fell open in astonishment but she charged on before he could utter anything he might afterwards regret, as he was in the presence of a magical person who did not suffer fools lightly, said she, “your characters have no personality, your plot has no depth, there isn’t even a sprinkling of humor in it, the danger and suspense is nonexistent as we all know the prince will come eventually. That and it’s historically inaccurate.”
“Fine,” grumped the journalist, sitting back in his chair, arms crossed, and the look of a sulking toddler on his face, “enlighten me.”
“Oh, that I will,” said the fairy in true delight as she tossed the paper aside, laughed she, “and it doesn’t even begin with ‘Once upon a time:’
“I need a baby,” said the noble lady to her husband as he entered their extensive and fashionable house. He stared at her blankly for a moment, as if wondering why she just did not go out and procure one like she did her dresses and shoes, rather than bothering him with such trifling little details, but before he could fathom the full import of her words, she plunged ahead, “I was just over at the Jones’s and they have the cutest little boy! Oh, darling! I want one; I must have one! Wouldn’t a little girl be just the thing to liven up this rather dreary old house? Think of the adorable little clothes and accessories I could buy! The congratulations and adulation that would flow in!”
He was about to protest that babies were theoretically expensive, and from what he had heard, they were quite noisy and dreadfully messy, not to mention rather inconvenient, but then that is what one had staff for, was it not? And as money was no object in that particular household, why not? “Very well darling,” said he, “if it makes you happy, nothing could please me more.”
But it seems infants are slightly harder to procure than shoes of a particular size and shade, which is hard enough, most especially when you are impatient for the fulfillment thereof. So it was that little Midas Jones was walking and beginning to babble almost recognizable verbiage, which his mother insisted were words, whilst our esteemed lady’s frustrations mounted over her inability to produce such an adorable creature of her own, but more importantly she was unable to reap the social excitement and congratulations that would undoubtedly flow unceasingly from such a fount. She consulted every known sorcerer, apothecary, physician, and herbalist she could find who specialized in such matters, but all to no avail.
But just as the baby craze seemed to be fading in that particular neighborhood, though exotic poultry were becoming quite fashionable, our lady found herself the mother of a beautiful little girl, in celebration of which, they threw a fantastic party, inviting everyone who was anyone in the entire Kingdom and beyond. The happy couple stood at the door greeting their guests as carriage after carriage rolled up and disgorged one fabulously clad celebrant after another, all obviously bored silly and there out of duty rather than any fondness for children in general or this couple in particular. The proud parents had just turned to follow the last invited guest into the house, when a rather irritated throat cleared behind them, drawing their attention. “Yes?” said the perplexed lady of the house to the rather curiously dressed individual loitering upon her expensive and stately steps.
“I fear my invitation must have been mislaid or lost by the carrier, for I never received it,” said the interesting personage.
“Invitation?!” said the lady, quite aghast that this odd person could even think that she would ever extend an invitation to such a peculiar and shabbily clad being.
“It is the only explanation,” said the creature, quite indifferent to the hostess’ shock, “for who would dare not invite me?”
“Who or what are you, madam?” said the astounded lady.
“What?” said the disturbing vision, with a certain dangerous edge in her voice that even the flabbergasted lady could not miss, “I am not a what but a who, madam! I am the Fairy of Blackfen.”
“Ah!” said the relieved host, coming to his lady’s rescue, “that explains it then. For you see, we don’t happen to believe in fairies, it is quite unfashionable and therefore unthinkable, and since we do not believe in your existence, well, you can’t expect an invitation when you don’t exist now, can you? No hard feelings I hope. Ta ta!” He stared at her expectantly for a moment, as if he expected her to immediately tip over dead, and then seemed rather crestfallen when she failed to do anything half so obliging.
The fairy frowned at him, “why are you standing there gaping?”
“I would think you of all people would have read that particular story?” said he in wonder, “when I said, ‘we don’t believe in fairies,’ aren’t you supposed to drop dead or something?”
The fairy said with a longsuffering sigh, but could not entirely hide her wry smirk, “I am afraid that particular story is not this particular story, thus the rules are quite different. So sorry to disoblige you, now what about my invitation?”
“I am afraid not,” said the lady of the house with a firm shake of her head, “it would never do! Your attire alone is five hundred years out of fashion, not to mention what my neighbors would think if I actually let a fairy in the house! It would be utterly ridiculous and I could never again show my face in fashionable society. Now if you were a leprechaun or some other well-to-do and currently in-vogue pixie-type person, I might make an exception, but it is completely unthinkable in this instance! I bid you good day, madam; I have a party to host!”
The fairy laughed darkly and said in her most sinister voice, which was impressively creepy, “what if I threatened to curse your child else?”
“Oh, would you!” said the lady in sudden delight. At the astonished and confused looks she received not only from the fairy but also from her husband, she added by way of explanation, “little Midas Jones was hexed after calling the new teacher at his Montessori, ‘an ugly old hag,’ when she pinched him and said he looked good enough to eat. It was only the truth after all, but still she sued the Montessori and won enough money to pay cash for that homely old gingerbread mansion down the street. Who builds with carbs nowadays? Anyway, then she went and cursed him besides. Now everything he touches turns to gold! I had thought about asking if we could babysit now and again, but this would be even better.” Her husband still looked rather perplexed, though the fairy now seemed to understand far more about this particular couple than they knew about themselves. The lady rolled her eyes and sighed, “what is it dear? What was unclear about what I just said?”
The man shook his head, “what’s a Montessori? Some sort of fancy sandwich shop?”
With another sigh, his wife expounded, “it is an elite and expensive school for very young children, I had one picked out even before our daughter was born; you can’t start too early, you know.” She eyed the fairy eagerly, “what do you think?”
Said the fairy dryly, “I don’t think there’s a worse curse I could lay on you people than the existence you already lead.”
The fairy wore a mocking smile, “you continue to prove my point, madam. But I won’t be cursing your wretched whelp with anything half so interesting as the golden touch. I suppose I could destine her to prick her finger on a spindle and fall into a wakeless sleep, or even to die; it’s trite, but effective.” She frowned, “but then there’s always the matter of some pesky prince showing up and ruining everything; I can’t abide a ‘happily ever after.’ No, I’ll leave things as they are, I’ll let you stew in your insipidness and go vainly about your pathetic lives, but I will not forget this and one day, I will have my revenge on the entire neighborhood. It used to be an actually respectable part of the Kingdom, except maybe for that troll under the bridge, but I’d take him over any of your ilk, drat those goats! At least he kept the riffraff out.”
The lady looked rather baffled after this expostulation and asked for clarification upon the most important point, at least to her thinking, “what exactly is a spindle?”
The fairy sighed heavily, and replied, “I suppose you’ve never actually had to do any sort of actual handicrafts? Making your own dresses, spinning, sewing, that sort of thing?”
“Making dresses?” said the flummoxed lady, “I have never heard of anything so ridiculous! Why, I just send a page down to a certain seamstress with precise instructions as to what I want and need, and her lad brings it over in a trice. No fuss, no mess, just magic! Or does she grow them? Sewing indeed! What nonsense!”
The fairy’s head was in her hands, though whether trying to hide her amusement or frustration this tale does not tell, sighed she at long last, “never mind madam, it matters not.” And then she vanished. The baffled couple exchanged a perplexed look and then went in to their guests with quite the story to tell.”
“That is utterly ridiculous!” gasped the journalist, as the fairy paused in her telling of the tale.
“I know,” sighed the fairy, thinking she had made her point at last, “such was the state of the world even then, and it has only grown worse since.”
“No!” said the offended man, “they could have been my parents! What happened to the King and Queen? The castle? Who wants to hear a fairy tale set in the suburbs?”
“Apparently not you,” said the fairy darkly, but softening her tone, she said more graciously, “but then you can’t really help your upbringing I suppose and it explains much about your own lackluster tale.” She glanced derisively at the cast off manuscript, “I suppose you can’t help that! Now do you want to hear the rest of the tale or shall I call in a psychologist so you can work through your traumatic childhood first?”
“By all means, please continue,” said the man, who was now white as a ghost, though whether at the thought of displeasing this magically dangerous personage or at the very idea that he might need counseling, she did not know. She smiled in a very pleased fashion, for either would suffice, and then continued:
“After the congratulations and socially enforced awe that attend the advent of a new baby in the family had subsided to a mere trickle, and as the lady’s trendy chicken fetish consumed more and more of her time, the child was relegated to the care of a person known only as ‘nurse.’ And as Nurse was a rather old and perpetually exhausted person, she required a great deal of sleep, which only increased as the child grew, thus the dear lady spent most of her waking hours dozing in a chair in the garden whilst her charge ran amuck amongst the ferns and hedgerows. While her mother truly had picked out a Montessori, a husband, the names of her grandchildren, etc. before the girl was even born, the all-consuming pressure of trends and fashion soon turned her mind to other, more pressing concerns and her daughter’s brilliant future was quite soon forgotten therewith.
The disgruntled fairy had not forgotten her promise and watched the family with interest as the child grew, wondering if she could come up with a curse worse than the girl’s current reality. However, the girl was not without allies, for this particular fairy had a sister, one with whom she was not on very good terms, for in the elder’s usually blunt way of expressing things, she summed up her younger sister as a quote, ‘goody two-shoes!’ The younger saw what the elder was plotting and felt the need to intervene on behalf of the child, though whether she was protecting the girl from her parents or her vengeful sister, or both, was yet to be seen.”
“This is actually becoming a little bit interesting,” said the man, whose complexion had returned to a somewhat more natural color, “do you not find it odd to speak of yourself in the third person?”
The fairy glared at him and he was suddenly pallid as milk once more, said she, “if you would please not interrupt, you will soon discover that the story becomes quite interesting indeed. And a good storyteller has no difficulty in speaking in the third, fourth, or even fifth person!”
The man frowned, “the fifth person?”
“Only slightly more difficult to master than the fourth-and-a-half person,” said she with dancing eyes, causing his cheeks to redden in fury as he realized she was making fun of him rather than imparting the literary secrets of Faerie. Ignoring his interest in the grammatical rules peculiar to immortals, she continued:
“The great horse whinnied nervously; the knight looked around in dread, wondering what could cause the usually unflappable animal such unease. Such was its training that it did not flinch, even before dragons. The friendly light of eventide suddenly became the black of a storm-wracked night and all the whispered noises of a sylvan twilight were now as a tomb. A scornful female voice scoffed in the menacing gloom, “well hero? What will come of you? Will you live or die? Will you ride upon my whims or shall the earth swallow you whole?”
The man shuddered, but knew to his very soul that he could never serve such a vile mistress, said he as boldly as terror allowed, “do your worst, fell lady, but I shall never serve such as thee.” The only answer was her mocking laughter as the ground upon which the horse stood suddenly became treacherous as that of mire or fen. The horse screamed his terror but was soon silenced as they sank from the sight and knowledge of mortal men.”
“Certainly far more dramatic than my rendition,” said the man in approval, “but I still don’t see where a spindle fits into all of this?”
“You are utterly ruining my tale!” said she with another irritated glare, “and unless you want to finish the story as an amphibian, I would highly advise against further outbursts!”
Sample Chapters of ‘Captain of Shadow:’
Over the Hills and Far Away Page 30