The House Of Whoosher... ;-)

[moonglum]

The rain thundered down onto a world of mud. It rained yesterday, it would rain tomorrow. Always rain. It lubricated the air and made it easier for the thunder to crash. Ragwolf staggered on, careful not to slip from the causeway into the murky black waters on either side. He was late. They would be gathering about now and he had to get there, had to warn him. Just two more islands to go before he reached the portal. This world was almost entirely covered with dark water. The only landmass, a series of muddy islands connected by thin strips of muddy land. The thunder crashed through the rain and a bolt of lightning split the black sky, turning night into day. Ragwolf saw something flash on a nearby island, it was out of his way, but he was naturally curious. It meant going back and branching off on another causeway. 'I'm late', he muttered. 'It's bright though', he thought as he turned back.

He was not a native of this world. No, they.......she, had used him and discarded him. Taken his sword and left him here to rot. His sword, not hers. He had found it, he had changed it. It was his, his! Ragwolf muttered and mumbled as he made his way along the other causeway and eventually reached the island. Another bolt of lightning split the sky and again he saw it ahead.

He was no more than a few feet away from it now and he stopped. Ragwolf looked and wondered who had left such an ornate mirror out here. He walked closer until he stood in front of it, and studied his reflection. There was mud on his cheek. He reached up and wiped it with his finger. It was stil there. His hand went back to the spot and this time he rubbed at it with the backs of his fingers. Ragwolf was surprised, first by the fact that the spot was still there on his cheek. Secondly, as he peered closer at his reflection, by the two arms that emerged from the glass, gripped his ears and pulled him into it.

The rain kept falling and the thunder crashed. The lightning lit the sky again, nothing changed. Except this time the mirror, like Ragwolf, had gone.

[moonglum]

Jason stood with his back to the open doors and studied the inhabitants of the room. They stared back with looks that were not intended to win friends. He had seen some of them before, both in visions and in the flesh. Now he could put a face to the girl in the tavern, the woman with venomous green eyes he'd confronted earlier in the library. She was standing at the opposite end of a long banqueting table. He knew her names now. Smiling he turned his back on them to close the doors. Jason felt it then, the first tentative probing at the edges of his mind. The soft, delicate fingers of thought scratching at the surface of his subconcious. He closed his mind as surely as he closed the doors. Turning back to face them all, he saw the look of pure hatred on her face. They glared at each other until Jason grinned and said. "Naughty, naughty!" The woman with the green eyes, Malory, watched this exchange with a degree of puzzlement on her face.

[moonglum]

Elysha had wandered aimlessly for many years. Always seeking out the darkest of places, the darkest of beings. Until, one day she found him, or rather he found her. She had retained the ability to travel the planes. The workings of the portals were not gifted to the gods alone. They were physical manifestations of the multiverse, it was merely a matter of knowing where, when and how. She passed through one day, to a world primitive in most respects but with the beginnings of civilisations, only these worthless mortals could bestow. She befriended soldiers called Centurians and through them, wormed her way into the household of a rich and powerful woman. In two short years she became hand-maiden to her mistress and mistress to her master. Within the following year she contrived the murder of the wife and wed the husband. He called himself a Mage and a student of Judicial Astrology. He was in fact, a charlatan. However, he did have two redeeming qualities. The first was his collection of rare tomes and scrolls. The second was his connections in high places. She started reading and studying everything he possessed, staying awake long into the night. When his demands for bedplay interupted this, she took to drugging him each night to ensure sleep. She was amazed, the wealth of knowledge this little weasel had, and he had done nothing with it, he understood none of it. She had seen through his charades from the beginning, she had been considering killing him for his wealth, when she realised his wealth was much more than she had anticipated. Much more.
Elysha experimented during the dark hours of night. She learnt fast and she learnt well. She summoned demons and made pacts with them in exchange for more secrets. When she needed fresh blood, she would bleed her husband. Just a little at first, while he snored. A little became more, until finally she needed a lot. She had giggled to herself as she watched the charlatan die, and in that moment of her darkness........He had found her.

[moonglum]

Letitia sat and listened as her father and mother told her their story.

It had been a simple matter for Ronaan to fake Eren's death, he gave her a sleeping draught and placed an enchantment upon her. Then he made the servants and workers believe he had buried her along with her dragon. He had long ago agreed with the elders that he would act as guardian over the legacy left by the dying Linjaldrage. After the burial he dismissed all the staff and closed up the palace of obsidian. Ronaan worked then, for many months, both in secret and in collusion with Garak Kurhn. Between them they knew that the Lords of Chaos were behind the demise of the Dragon Rulers. The dragons and their riders were far more powerful than the dark lords had realised when they first made their plans for this realm. Chaos had no opposition here, or so they thought. They found out quickly that the Linjaldrage were more powerful even than the Lords of Law. Ronaan had discovered a remedy. An elixir so rare that only enough existed for one of the Linjaldrage to survive.

Ronaan awoke one morning and discovered his old friend had left during the night. A servant handed him a note.

'I cannot accompany you on the next stage of your journey my friend. I grow too old and weary for the fight, I will distract this pestilence in my own way. Use the potion, take Eren and find the Lords of Light. Look after her Ronaan, I have lost both my sons, she is my only daughter. Garak.'

They left that night, like two lovers eloping in the moonlight.

[moonglum]

Jason walked to the edge of the table, unbuckled his sword and placed it on the polished surface. The others had risen when he had entered, now they stepped back from the table, apprehensive and wary of this stranger. His eyes never left Malory as he said, "You have in mind a bold plan I believe? However Namirah, or Ahriman as you call him, will not sit back and wait for you to come to him. Already he sends a horde to beseige this house, they will be here soon. I have been a soldier for most of my life now, so for what it's worth, I offer you my services. I'll be your army, I'll stop the horde while you do what you have to do."

There was silence in the room. Jason looked at their faces, one by one around the table. Then finally he returned his gaze to Malory and said, "It might interest you all to know also, that one among you is not who they claim to be!"

[Henrietta "India Ana" Jones]

India Ana sat atop the wall at the back of the house, watching the ocean below. Rocks, large clumps of earth and debris slid down and disappeared into the white, swirling cloud just at the water’s surface.

“This is no ordinary cloud,” she said into her mouth piece. “It appears to be a white hole; a vortex that is slowly devouring everything in its path.” She watched as more of the wall slid down and vanished. She would have to backtrack to get around to the other side of the house. How long before the house started to crumble and fall into the vortex as well? She would just have to hurry, or she too would vanish along with everything else.

“Can the vortex be the cause of the mystery surrounding Whoosher House? Can it be stopped? How do you destroy a white hole? Ooh . . . Is the Bermuda Triangle a white hole?”

Whoa. If I solve these questions, I’ll be soooooo famous. This just might make me more famous than my parents, India Ana thought as she got out her camera and camcorder to document her discovery before heading back the way she had came.

[moonglum]

Ronaan sat and studied his daughter for a while, before continuing.
"A fragile peace, the Balance, has existed between Order and Chaos for centuries. If the Dark Lords discover who we really are, as well as the fact that you have created a new Dragon Ruler, then they will go to war again. Already it may be too late. This Jason Korde has vengeance in his heart. Will he heed your council, if need be will he turn aside?"

Letitia thought about her last meeting with him before the portal, the yearning in her heart as strong as ever. The pact between them unspoken but accepted. Finally she said. "Father, I cannot ask him to turn aside. I am bound by an oath not to stop him. I kept my side of our bargain, I sent the boy's spirit to safety, and Jason Korde is honour-bound to keep his part".

"Honour!" Ronaan sighed. "Child this has naught to do with honour, this is about survival, the future of the Middle Realms".

“Nevertheless, I am bound to him”, she replied, defiantly.

Eren, who had been studying her daughters face throughout, leaned across and touched Ronaan’s hand. “Would you leave us for a while, my husband? I would like to talk to our daughter alone”. Withdrawing her hand, she sat upright and, as she did so, the years seemed to fall away from her. The woman, whom Letitia had always thought of as old, now seemed to be no more than middle-aged and far more beautiful than she had realized. Letitia looked at her father and saw his eyes shining and bright, his smile widening as he looked at Eren. “Of course”, he said, rising from the table and leaving the room.

Eren watched her husband go and, turning to Letitia said, “Your father and I have known each other since childhood. When it was clear that he would never be a dragon-rider, he left and studied another path. He could so easily have chosen a dark road, but he didn’t. He devoted his life to truth, honesty and justice. He became a truly great wizard and spent a vast amount of time trying to help the Dragon Rulers. I love him more than life itself, Letitia. Tell me, how much do you love Jason Korde?”

[moonglum]

"Well, my friend, it appears you have been deceiving me." The voice was silken and soft, like warm breath across a satin bedsheet.
"I, forgive me master, she told me it was your bidding, she told me it was by your command that I give her the sword." Ragwolfs eyes darted from side to side, looking for the mouth that gave issue to this voice, that slid so easily across his cheek to his ear.
Ragwolf shivered. He stood alone in a beam of light, unmoving, pinned by invisible forces to the very air itself.
“Then, like the fool she was, she gave it to the one person who could use it against her,” the voice whispered.
The shaft of light dimmed and in the darkness surrounding him, Ragwolf saw a speck of yellow moving towards him. As it approached, a dark centre grew larger until he found himself staring into a huge eye. He could not take his eyes off it. The veins stood out, they throbbed rhythmically. It stopped inches from his face. Ragwolf screamed and shut his eyes. He screamed again as he felt his eyelids burnt away and the stare from the eye bored into his skull.


Mervina tensed and looked towards the corner of the house. With a single flap of her wings, she took to the air. Circling once, she flew over the rooftop and looked down onto the beach below.
"Jason, you need to see this. Something is coming." Her thought sped swiftly back towards the house.

[moonglum]

As Mervina watched, they walked from the sea. The zombie-like dead, their skeletal forms swathed in the white mist. Long lost denizens of the deep resurrected for one purpose, to destroy this place and all who dwelt there. They walked across the beach towards the cliff paths that would lead them upwards to the house.

Jason heard the warning thought and picking up his sword looked around the table once more.
“The time has come to make a decision, they are here.” He said and turned towards the door. Stopping at the doorway he looked back at her once more, the scowl still on her face. “Stay out of my way, or I’ll kill you.” He said, and left the dining-room.

[moonglum]

The cavern was dark, lit only by flaming brands set into the walls. The air reeked of sulphur and the subtle scent of decay. Elysha walked purposefully across the marble floor towards the dais. He turned at her approach and smiled.
“My love, you look tired.” His voice low and his words sugar sweet. “The little demon, Ragwolf, has told me much. Thank you for bringing him to me.”
He took her arm and steered her away to a side chamber. When they were seated in private, he asked. “How goes the search for your son, my sweet?”
Elysha ground her teeth and spat, “That shrew of a sister has him somewhere, I’m sure of it.”
“I take it your plans for her came to naught,” he smiled.
“She has protection. She is aided by our father.”
“Interesting, you still refer to him as ‘our’ father,” he laughed, “hardly appropriate, my dear.”
“Don’t mock me,” Elysha snarled, gripping the arms, she made to rise. The force of huge, invisible hands forced her back into the chair. He reached across and stroked her cheek with his fingertips.
“Come, come now, don’t be ungrateful. I think we may be able to do something for each other.” He snapped his fingers and two figures wheeled in a covered frame. As they scuttled out, he rose from his chair and, walking around behind, he removed the cover. “I took the liberty and had this transported here from your rooms,” he said.
Elysha looked at the mirror and saw her reflection.
“First we must do something about your appearance,” he smiled.

[moonglum]

She sat and watched him leave the dining room, wondering why he hadn’t denounced her to the others. They obviously hadn’t worked out who his remarks were aimed at. Now they simply stood, warily glancing at each other.

It had been many years ago, near a village by the sea. Her clan had been feeding on the flesh of the slain. In the aftermath of the battle she led them down from the hills to feast on the bodies of the dead soldiers. During their feeding, the air coalesced in front of them, and a stranger materialized from nowhere. Hissing at him, one of her kin moved to attack. The stranger drew his sword and killed the nearest two before the others reacted. They rushed at him then, and he killed most of them. He was deceptively fast and his sword seemed to have a life of its own. The others fled, all except one. She stared at him snarling, and then as he walked towards her, she turned and fled towards the hills. He had followed and eventually, he cornered her in a small canyon in the rocks. Turning, she hissed at him in an attempt to warn him off, but he kept coming. He was no more than a few yards away when, she assumed the shape of a female of his species. He stopped in his tracks, surprise on his face. Seizing the opportunity, she changed again, and leapt over him to freedom. The tip of his sword raked her leg, drawing blood, as she flew over his head. She howled and fled back towards the beach. When he arrived, she watched him from amongst the bodies. He looked around, shrugged his shoulders, and made a curious sign in the air in front of him. The air shimmered again as he stepped through and was gone.

She had repeated the sign and now stood in front of the portal. It must be safe, she thought. The stranger had come and gone with no ill effects. She gingerly touched her paw to the surface and walked forward.

[moonglum]

Eren watched as her daughter, white robed against the white walls, prowled restlessly around the room. They had returned from Sanctuary only recently, intent on breaking the rules. Well, bending them anyway. Ronaan was still set against direct intervention and the three agreed to find ‘alternatives’. The domain of the Lords of Light was dark and quiet. A servant knocked and entered with a tray. Serving Eren, he looked apologetically at Letitia and said, “Forgive me my lady, I had not realised you were here. I thought you were still with your father”.
“I have not seen my father since before dinner”, Letitia replied.
“But, my lady, I saw you enter his rooms not ten minutes ago”.
Letitia looked mutely at the servant as truth slowly began to dawn in her, she opened her mouth and turned. Eren was ahead of her and halfway towards the door. She ran down the darkened corridors, the walls seeming to close in on her, making the journey seem longer. As Eren rounded the final corner she stopped, and looked at the face of her youngest daughter, as she left Ronaans room. Letitia came to a halt beside Eren and saw her smiling doppelganger. As realisation hit home, Letitia whispered, “What have you done?”
Eren drew a dagger from the folds of her robe and walked forwards. Before she had covered half the distance, Elysha laughed aloud and let the darkness spirit her away. Eren reached the doorway and, holding back her daughter with her arm, she opened the door. Her husband lay face down on the floor, the hilt of a crystal dagger protruding from between his shoulders. The hilt glowed with a deep shade of red, like blood.

Letitia knelt beside her father’s body. The alarm had gone out and the Lords of Light were converging on the scene. Some were shocked, others bemused. One or two, even a trifle annoyed at having been disturbed. Letitia was inconsolable, she wept openly over her fathers body. After a long time, she felt a strong arm encircle her shoulders and only then, did she look up. Expecting it to be her mother, she was surprised to find it was not so. She stood up slowly and shook the arm from her shoulder. Voices, she could hear raised voices coming from outside. Dazed and in shock, Letitia backed away from the cold corpse on the floor, and found herself in the corridor. The old Lords, members of the Council of Elders, fell silent at her approach.
“Mother,” she whispered.
“She has gone, child. She has left to seek vengeance, she will bring war to us all,” blustered one of the Elders.
Letitia looked at him, then, at them all. They were weak and complacent. Aeons of self-indulgence had made their bodies flabby and turned their minds to mush. She felt pride swell in her heart, at what her mother was doing. Her slumped shoulders lifted and her back straightened, as she said.
“War is already here, you fool.”
With a look that would have shrivelled stone, she pushed past them and hurried to her mother’s room. Anguish and hurt gave way to anger, as her stride slowly strengthened to match her resolve. When she reached her mothers room, however, Eren was gone. A large wooden trunk stood open in the corner, the only witness to her hurried departure.

[moonglum]

The changeling was careful not to get too close to him. She could hide in the crowds, assuming the shape of almost anything living. The warrior could smell her though, she was sure of that. She had followed him from world to world, planning her revenge. The problem lay in the fact that she was always behind him and couldn’t get closer. Now if she could get in front of him, ambush him, ah but, she never knew where he was going. She sometimes wondered if he did himself. After she had gone through the portal, that first time, she had marvelled at the different landscape she found herself in. Now after dozens of worlds, she knew she could never find her way back, even if it still existed. She would finish this, avenge her clan. His death, for theirs.
Then, one day, she struck lucky. She overheard him talking to a woman. Shortly after, he met with her again, this time in the wilderness. The changelings hearing was good, she heard everything. Now she could get in front of him. She knew exactly where he was going this time. She waited an appropriate amount of time after he had gone through the portal, and the woman had left. Then she went through herself. She watched him in the distance and, assuming the shape of a big cat, loped off at a tangent to his line. She easily passed him during the next few hours and kept on going until she reached the grounds of a large house on the coast. The description tallied with what she had overheard. At the pace the warrior was walking, it would be some hours before he reached here. Time enough for her to find a way in, and hide amongst this ’crowd’.

[moonglum]

Jason strode to the cliff top and looked down. He could see them making their way slowly up the paths towards him. Mervina circled overhead and watched them.
“How many are there.” Jason called, and heard the answering thought. “Hundreds”
Suddenly Mervina turned and flew back over the house, she began to angle away and upwards towards the heavens. As her speed increased, Jason heard her whisper in his ear. “I am being called. I’m sorry Jason, I must go,” and with that thought, she vanished into the clouds.
“Great timing, thanks,” growled Jason. There were four paths to the top of the cliff. Two were reasonably close together, near to where he stood. The others were to each side of him and much farther away. Jason could not cover them all. He took out one of his pistols and fired an explosive dart at the cliff top above each of the two distant paths. The resulting explosions took away enough of the cliff at each point to slow the horde down for a while.
Then the heads and shoulders of the first wave immediately in front of him were coming over the top. Soulrazor sang in his hand as he swung her to and fro. Like a scythe she cut through rotting flesh and bone alike. He danced his way between the two columns, piling up corpses. He was trying to make their advance as difficult as possible, but he knew it was impossible. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other two paths. There were now undead coming over the cliff top on either side of his position. Added to this, he was weakening. These zombies were giving him no life-force to feed off. With his free hand he was making mad signs in the air and shouting words he didn’t know he knew. But, whatever he was doing, it wasn’t working.
He suddenly felt warmth in his forehead. The jewel in his skull pulsed, and then glowed brighter. At the same time he heard a whoosh of air off to his right. Quickly glancing in that direction he caught sight of Mervina, turning in flight and blazing her fiery breath along the cliff tops like a huge flame-thrower. The warrior on her back had long dark hair, with a golden circlet around her forehead. She was dressed in black leather leggings and shirt, and over this, a bronze breast-plate. In her right hand she held a sword and over her left forearm, a gleaming bronze buckler.

[moonglum]

The Anonymity of Crowds

It was a simple matter. Waiting for one of the servants to rest alone for a while, and then, taking its place. The changeling was inside the house.
She followed their lead, washing dishes, fetching, carrying and all the while listening. All the while working her way closer to where the source of power resided. At one point she faltered. There was another power at work here. Subtle, yet she felt it. Heard it even, whispering deep in her mind. The warrior, for the moment, all but forgotten. She could kill them all, couldn’t she? Take this place for her own. She could kill them while they slept, while they revelled in their mortal dreams.
By this time she was serving in the dining room, listening to their stories as she worked. They were arguing, the leather-pawed one was feasting on the bone of a small fowl. The heels of her boots scratching the smooth surface of the ding room table. Another, adorned with strange ornaments about her waist was shouting. Amidst the expletives and curses, a quiet mortal with a blonde mane, rose from the table and silently left the room. The changeling, ever mindful of an opportunity, gathered up some dishes, and followed her.

[moonglum]

The changeling returned to the dining room a short time later. She took the seat recently vacated by the blonde girl, and to all present, it was as if Dixie had never left. She could now listen to their plans while she waited for the warrior. She wiped her sweating hands on the rough fabric of her jeans, her fingers still tingling from the touch of the girls throat. While, in her ears, the snap of the white neck reverberated like a diminishing echo. The whispering in her mind was growing stronger all the while.

[Phalon]

Stop! Rewind for just a moment. Let’s go back in time….to a time of ancient gods, warlords and kings when a land in turmoil cried out for a hero. She was…. No, no, not that far back – much to Phalon’s dismay; she’d love nothing more than to be back there, in ancient Greece. But we are here, the time is the present, and the place, The House of Whoosher, where one evening can seem as if it lasts for three years!

But just for a minute let’s turn the hands of the clock back about an hour – maybe two, (as stated: time is lost in the House, and there is no rhyme or reason to the speed at which it seems to pass). This is the time prior to the latest arrival into the dining room; the is-she-Dixie-or-is-she-not arrival.


T’was the night Hell broke loose,
and in the old house,
Not a diner had stirred,
nor did the mouse.

Malory had given her The Reason I Brought You to This Hell speech, and laid down her appeal to each of them for help. Scrappy, Dixie, Phalon, Joxie, and Guru mulled it over in their heads, wondering where they each specifically fit into the plan. Or was there even a plan? The mouse sat quietly in the corner and watched, uninterested.

Out by the fountain there arose such a clatter,
Malory ran from the room to see what was the matter.
An inhuman screech, followed by a morose wail,
The beast had been slain; its twin companion now frail.

Of the fate of the gargoyle, the diners knew nothing. The same was true of Malory’s rage and her subsequent transformation. It seemed they were each lost so deeply in their own thoughts that the house could crumble around them and they would give little notice. A tiny set of black, beady eyes did nothing more than blink.

The door splintered open; the wind rushed through,
It snarled and howled, and the she-beast that followed did too.

The crashing down of the front door startled Mrs. Peacock, whose face was drained of all color. Phalon was pulled far enough from her thoughts to notice something she’d never imagined she’d see on that face: Fear. “Sheeee’s baaa-ck”, Pavora whispered before she scurried from the room to tend to Maleficent, and try to calm her enough so that it was Malory who returned to the dining room.

Silence followed her departure. Still the mouse did not so much as flinch.

The moon on the layer of new fallen dust….

Dust swirled through the still of the room as dust will in any old house, tiny particles falling like snow on a quiet winter’s night. Except without the sparkle; dust has no sparkle. It settled on the uneaten food still laid on the table, and if one looked hard enough, one might notice the motionless diners seated at the table where covered in dust also. As was the mouse.

A draft from the unlit fireplace gathered the table dust, and it sprang to life. A dust-bunny was born. Not wanting to be the center of attention and under the gaze of the glazed-over eyes of the diners, the dust-bunny rolled off the table, and into the corner. The mouse did not move to give this new occupant space. The dust-bunny sulked off in silence, leaving the mouse to silently gloat.

The room was so still; breath the only sound,
When in came The Stranger, through the door with a bound
A white leather duster was slung on his back,
His eyes, they were golden – now they flashed black!
Hair to his shoulders, so blonde it appeared white.
It framed a thin face, cheeks hollow, mouth held tight.
The Haunted, the Hunter…or is it the Hunted?
A Lone Machine for so long, his emotions were stunted?
He spoke not to them, but went straight to his work,
Growled a challenge for Malory , then turned with a jerk,

He went out of the door, and into the night,
But heard Scrappy exclaim as he strode out of sight,

“What the Hell was that?”

The mouse twitched. Phalon threw it a dust-covered crumb.

After the long silence, the room finally came back to motion.

[moonglum]

Mervina swept the cliff-face a half dozen times, incinerating everything in her path. Then, circling low over Jason, the dragon allowed the warrior woman to jump to the ground. The woman landed with surprising agility and was running quickly towards him, her sword scything its way through the mass of flesh and bone in her path. Eren could see by his eyes, indeed his whole face that Jason Korde was on his last legs. She reached his side and, with the briefest nod of her head, she turned and stood at his back Their minds locked together as one, every thought produced identical actions. Every action produced an identical reaction. No words were exchanged. They became a matched pair of automatons, who systematically slaughtered everything that came at them. Relentlessly, they fought on through the night. Just as surely as Mervina cleared the cliff-face, the duo slowly cleared the cliff-tops.

Suddenly it was over. Jason gasped for air then, slumped to his knees in the mud and the blood of the slain. Eren knelt beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder. Breathlessly, she said.
“You fought well Jason; it has been a long time since I fought side by side with my kin. Tonight I feel alive. Exhausted, but alive!”
She laughed, and her laughter lit up the night. Jason tried to speak, but his throat was dry and tight. He trembled and pitched forward, face down in the mire.

As Jason slowly regained consciousness, Eren gently poured sips of water past his thin, cracked lips. They avoided looking into each others eyes. The guilt borne from their mental union, hung in the air between them like a torn curtain. A mind-lock is a very intimate sharing of knowledge. Each now possessed some of the others secrets. They may not be fully aware of them at the moment, but in time those secrets would surface. She looked up, her attention caught by something. Jason struggled to sit upright.
“What is it?” He said.
“Flashes of light, over there, by the rear of the building.” Eren paused and then continued, “I noticed them earlier, when I was aloft.”

Jason fumbled through his pockets and found what he needed. All the while, Eren had noticed, his hand had never left his sword hilt. Clamping it firmly in its scabbard as if he feared it would escape. She knew he was paying the price for accepting the blade as his own.

“Could be reflections of light,” he replied, as he thumbed the cork from a small phial and greedily drank the green liquid inside.
Eren brought her thoughts back to the here and now, and said. “You are doubtless correct, Jason, nevertheless…………….”
“You are Eren!” Jason suddenly exclaimed. “Mother to Letitia and my beloved Elysha.”
“Yes.” Eren said cautiously. “Jason, there is something I have to tell you about Elysha………….”

Trees.......... soldiers......... Taimon........ Elysha......... death.......... madness.......... hiding............ malice.......... murder........... hatred.

Images flashed through his mind. Eren had seen all this. Letitia had known all this. He opened his mouth to speak, but Eren was ahead of him.
“No,” she said. “I alone knew of Elysha’s betrayal. I kept the knowledge from Letitia. It was necessary you see, for you are the catalyst Jason. On the one hand created as our champion, our hope, our faith; on the other, responsible for escalating the rise of Chaos. When you slew the goddess Araemia and your son, you set in motion a cascade of events which only you can end. You must decide what you are, Jason Korde. Saviour or soul-taker, saint or sinner?”

---

Edited to add spaces to keep the page from being too wide. Added spacing between some paragraphs while I was at it. Nothing else was added, and nothing was deleted. ~~Mini-Mia

[moonglum]

Reflections

It wasn’t as if he felt a great sense of loss. It was more like feelings of guilt. He had begun to doubt a long time ago, gods, even fallen daughters of gods, would have found him before now. Demon kidnappers would have sought him out a long time ago. Jason remembered his thoughts during the long walk to the house. It was true; Elysha’s face was a dim and distant recollection only. He had been obsessed, his fragmented memory telling him he must find her, and the missing answers. It had all been futile, he saw that now. Her seeing him kill their child would have been enough to change her beyond recognition.

He was aware that Eren was studying him as he sat deep in thought. Just who was this woman, he thought. This Amazonian-like warrior who wielded a sword whilst riding a dragon, and who now seemed to be in his head.

More images invaded his mind, he saw the old man who had been on the Pinnacle with Letitia. He was lying dead on a stone floor. He saw Elysha’s laughing face. Looking up into Eren’s eyes he felt the pain, so sharp it brought a tear to his own eyes. Then he realised who she was and what she was doing here. She had come to kill her own daughter.

Eren felt him reading her mind. She also felt something else. Another presence nearby. Another mind…… no …. two minds, one immeasurably stronger, masking the other.

In the dining room, the changeling sat quietly, and all the while the voice in her head told her what she must do.

[moonglum]

“So”, said Jason, struggling to stand up amid the tangle of bodies in the mire. “Flashes of light, you said.”
“They have stopped now,” she replied, and fell silent again. Eren watched him, and waited. The first move would have to be his. She must know which side he would turn to.
True, he had just fought a horde of undead, but that could merely have been self-preservation. Where would his allegiance lie? If not with those in the house, then she and they would be alone.
Jason looked at her then and smiled. “Do you feel hungry?” He said.
Eren shrugged her shoulders as Jason laughed and said, “I think I know where we can find some food”.
And with that, they began picking their way through the corpses, back towards the house.

[Phalon]

“You do it.”

“No, you.”

A small hand reached out to use the heavy iron knocker on the door that always seemed to repair itself no matter how many times it had been splintered....the door that kept would-be intruders out, or kept reluctant residents held within?

Two small goblins waited until that heavy door with the heavy knocker slowly creaked open. Only one of the old house's occupants was not too busy fighting demons both real and imagined to pay attention to the two small ones at the door, and answer the knock.

"Trick or Treat?" two small voices inquired of the kindly looking old woman dressed in servant's attire who answered the door.

The old woman smiled a crooked smile, and leaned down close to their sweet goblin faces. “My treat for you is a bit of advice....”, she said looking back over her shoulder. “...leave quickly before They hear. They don’t like visitors.”

The lights beyond the door flickered, and the silhouette before them was not that of a sweet old maid. It rose to it's full menacing stature, arms raised overhead, fingers wiggling and urgent to reach out and grab hold of something, irridescent eyes shining wild in the moonlight that lit them.

Mwhahahahahahaha!!!!


The two goblins nearly tripped over themselves getting down the stairs, and ran from the house, never looking back.

“Hey, come back! I was just playing! You’ve run off without your goodies! I’ve cut up a nice batch of Lady Fingers, and they’re fresh from the oven, warm and oh-so-good!"

"Damn", she muttered, "a couple more that got away without their treats. I can't remember how many years now that's happened. Another one gone by without trick-or-treaters, and I can't understand why.....Ah well, there's always next year.”

Miss Peacock loved Halloween.

Mwhahahahahahahahaha!!!

[moonglum]

Ragwolf awoke on a cold, hard earthen floor. It was not merely dark, but pitch-black. He could not see even his hand in front of his face. ‘HE’ had tortured Ragwolf mercilessly for what seemed like days and then, when that was over, it started all over again. Finally Ragwolf had been thrown into the catacombs and tunnels that underpinned the house above.
Ragwolf giggled, he had not told them. No, nor would he, ever. They had prodded and probed his mind, drove him to insanity, and still he had kept his secret. Still he refused to give up the one thing they needed to know. They thought they were so clever; ‘HE’ thought ‘HE’ was so clever. Well, when he found his way out of this place, Ragwolf would show them. Giggling quietly to himself, Ragwolf eased himself up and staggered forward. His hands found the wall of the tunnel and he edged his way along it.
Ragwolf wandered like this for hours. The noises, the scratchings and scuffling, the patter of tiny feet; he heard them all as his mind played games with what remained of his sanity. Then he felt warmth in the air in front of him. As he approached, it became hotter and hotter until he could move his face no closer. Still the blackness prevailed, still he could see nothing. He moved his hand upwards in front of him, and screamed as the naked flame of the brand seared his skin. He slumped down sobbing and rubbing his hand. He sobbed, but no tears came. Realisation slowly dawned as his fingers found the sightless sockets that had once held his eyes.

[moonglum]

Sounds, amplified now by his insanity and his fear, thundered through his head. He heard the marching of the beetles and the burrowing of the worms. He screamed out loud and cried for it to stop. Standing up suddenly, he hit his head on the torch bracket and felt the heat of the fire near his face again. Screaming in fear, he ran, arms outstretched until he touched a wall and then turned. It didn’t matter which way, every time he felt an obstruction he flung his other hand through clear air, and ran in that direction. Not knowing, or caring, if he ran in circles, he blundered from one obstacle to the next. Until, finally, he felt nothing underfoot, and pitched headlong down a flight of rough-hewn steps.
Letitia watched his progress in her glass. She had stumbled upon Ragwolf’s plight whilst searching for something else. Now she was captivated by the trials of this little man. He was clearly obsessed with something, but what? He had been tortured and cast aside by Chaos. Where had he come from, and where does he hope to go, she asked herself. She watched his lips move, as if he were incessantly mumbling to himself. She watched, with horror, as he knocked the torch from the wall and ran screaming through the dank corridors and caverns. Finally she saw him pitch forward down the steps and lay, unconscious, in the darkness below.
As Ragwolf lay on the floor, Letitia came to a decision. It was forbidden for her to go to this world. The Lords of both Law and Chaos, had decreed long ago, that certain worlds were ‘off-limits’, to preserve the fragile balance of their existence. Chaos had broken this bargain, of course; and both Letitia, and her mother, had agreed the rules must be ‘relaxed’.

[moonglum]

The Unholy Trinity

Ragwolf’s head felt strangely clearer, when he awoke. He sat up against the wall and was immediately aware of the stairs to his right. In front of him, he could ‘sense’ a wall. He could not see these things, and yet, he knew they were there, like ghosts in his mind. He shook his head, believing himself to be dreaming. No, the misty images remained. He looked around him and knew he was on a landing; with stairs ascending to his right, and to his left, more stairs descending into darkness. Hauling himself up, he staggered forward and stopped, inches from the wall in front of him. Slowly he raised his hand to it and felt the cold, rough stone. Ragwolf giggled and touched the wall again, and again. His sniggers turned slowly to laughter as he patted the wall repeatedly until finally, he was hammering it with his fists, while insanity screamed in his voice.

Her voice, on the other hand, was soft and gentle and sudden; so sudden that he stopped in mid tirade. She spoke directly to him, by name. His head whirled around as he peered in all directions. There was no one there.
“Come to me Ragwolf, I can help you.”
“Where are you, who are you, show yourself?” He cried.
“Follow the steps downwards until you reach the oak door.” Her voice faded away into the darkness.
“Leave me alone. You can’t have it. It’s mine, they’re both mine,” he shouted after the retreating echoes.
He looked around the landing with his mind. Should he go back up the steps, or down?
The decision was taken from his hands by the sound of voices above him. Slowly, at first, he moved downwards one step at a time. By the time he reached the next landing, he was moving faster and the sounds above him had faded.

Ragwolf came, at last, to the bottom of the stairs. A single tunnel stretched away in front of him. He thought of turning back, but when he looked back up the steps, he saw they ended in a wall a few feet above his head. His madness allowed no surprise to register; he merely giggled and walked off down the tunnel. At last he came to an iron-bound oak door, set in the rock at the end of the passage. There was no handle, so he placed his hand against the door and pushed. The door swung inwards easily and Ragwolf stepped through into a huge cavern bathed in light. Had he still been in possession of his eyes, Ragwolf would have blinked. As it was, he giggled and turned to close the door behind him. The doorway had disappeared, to be replaced by rock. This prompted a further bout of mirth from him. He turned back and looked towards the centre of the cavern. There, on a raised dais, stood a woman holding a sword. A sword that looked familiar to Ragwolf. He moved closer and closer, until he reached the edge of the dais.

As the little man moved towards her, Letitia could hear him muttering under his breath.
“Three, three, hee hee, there are three of them now, hee hee.”

[moonglum]

To sleep.....

To get him here, Letitia had given Ragwolf the ‘gift’ of sight. She was enabling him to see telepathically. True, the images were misty, and somewhat vague; but judging by the frown on his face, she realised he was entranced by her sword.
“Do you recognise this sword, Ragwolf?” She said.
He snapped his gaze away from the blade long enough to say. “It’s mine, they are all mine.”
“No, Wraithslayer and its twin, Demonreaper, were forged by the Lords of Light for their great battle with the forces of darkness.” Letitia was puzzled now. Why did he refer to it as his? What did he mean by ‘they are all mine’? She must know the answers to these questions and more.
Letitia made a sign in the air and Ragwolf slumped to the floor, unconscious. She stepped down off the dais and looked at him. He had been tortured near to death and yet still he lived. If he had given up what they wanted, surely he would have been killed. The fact that he was still alive implied he still had secrets. Another movement of her hand brought forth a stone chair, with restraints. She lifted him into it and strapped his arms and legs. Then, seating herself on the edge of the dais, she let herself relax into a trance. She transferred her spirit into his mind, and took him back in time.

[moonglum]

....perchance to dream

Ragwolf awoke early, but not early enough to best the young-uns. The two girls were up already and playing. His wife snored quietly beside him and stirred gently as he slipped out of bed. He prepared some bread, fruit and cheese and took the platter back to their bed. As they ate they talked, about their trip up north in the summer, to visit relatives. The weather was sunny and warm as Ragwolf walked down to his smithy. It promised to be a busy day, four horses to shoe, two gates and a plough’share to repair. This aside, thought Ragwolf as he whistled his way down the track, life was good.
By mid-morning the horses were finished with and he had started work on the plough. He was bringing the forge back up to temperature when the doors burst open. There, framed in the opening, stood a wild man. His lank white hair was swept upwards and back, by the currents of hot air rushing from the shack. His grey beard hung down near to his knees and was plaited with what appeared to be bones.
“You, Ragwolf, I have a job for you,” he bellowed.
Ragwolf looked at him and sighed. Weaseldoom was known and feared by everyone in the village. This hermit had the reputation as something of a mystic, and folk avoided him on the rare occasions he came down from the mountains.
“I am rather busy at present, friend,” Ragwolf replied. He did not wish to alienate the man, but he really had no time for his ravings.
Ragwolf, though small in stature, was really quite strong. His life as village smith had toned his muscles over the years. He was therefore more than surprised, when the thin hermit strode across to him and picked him off the floor almost effortlessly. With one hand grasping his jerkin, the hermit sneered into his face.
“You will do what I ask, or I will send you to hell!”
Dropping Ragwolf back to the ground, the hermit said, “You can forge swords, yes?”
“Yes,” stammered Ragwolf, as the hermit turned and walked from the room. He returned almost immediately, carrying a large bundle. Untying it, he pulled forth the most beautiful sword Ragwolf had ever seen. Its blade was the colour of the blue sky in summer. The runes, etched in a metal Ragwolf had never seen before, were so delicate and light that they seemed to disappear when viewed from certain angles. Ragwolf was so captivated he barely heard the hermit whisper, “you, my friend are going to make me a copy of this sword.”

So, they toiled all that night, through the next day and long into the following evening. The hermit had with him a supply of ore yielding, what appeared to be, the same metal as the blade. He told Ragwolf about a night, many years ago, when the skies had blackened for days afterwards, and lightning had burned the land. Ending, only when the very heavens themselves, seemed to break up and fall to earth. Searching through the rubble, some time later, the hermit had found the sword embedded in a ‘piece of heaven’, as he called it. He was surprised at how easily he had withdrawn it from the rock. Taking them both back to his cave in the mountains, he had hidden them away.

[moonglum]

At each stage of the forging process, the hermit murmured incantations and etched signs in the air as they worked. Ragwolf encountered a problem early on. As he smelted the ore, it became obvious to him, that it contained not one, but two types of metal. The hermit was furious until Ragwolf assured him that, by carefully adjusting the heat of the forge, he could meld the two into one.
Ragwolf was true to his word. On the evening of the third day the pair sat and stared at the fruits of their labour. It was not finished, it still had to be polished, a process which would take them a further three days and nights. Finally, the end truly did justify the means, as they looked upon the two swords, side by side.
“Ragwolf, I want you to look after this,” the hermit bundled up the original and handed it to him. “Hide it away. It has come to my ears that certain people are looking for it. When they come to me, as they will, I will pass off our forgery; and then, when all is quiet again, I will return for the blade.”
It was true that Ragwolf had been captivated by the original sword since the moment he set eyes on it. He yearned for it with a passion he had never known. Now, with one bundle in his arms, he looked at the copy laying there and felt a hunger so fierce, he knew he would kill to possess them both. The hermit had gone outside to saddle his horse and when he returned he failed to see Ragwolf step from behind the door, and plunge the duplicate sword into his back. Ragwolf stiffened as the hermit died, and his eyes glazed over. He watched as the blade turn slowly black and renewed strength coursed through his body.

[moonglum]

Ragwolf spent all his time now in the smithy. The doors were barred as he sat there staring at the duplicate sword. He could not take his eyes off it. As the weeks wore on, he took to holding it more and more, gently caressing the runes and murmuring quietly to it. He shouted at callers and cursed his family until, eventually, they all left him alone. He even went so far as to name it. He realised what had happened to the hermit. The sword had possessed him, it had a life of its own and it wanted the hermit’s soul. It needed souls.
Soulrazor, he called it. It was the product of the two fabrics of Law and Chaos, imbued with a ‘life’ of its own. Ragwolf could not guess that Weaseldoom had ‘gifted’ a spirit to the blade with his chants and spells. For the moment though, it needed a hand to wield it, for it was not strong enough yet.
Eventually, hunger and madness drove Ragwolf from his lair. The villagers would not unbar their doors to him, and would not answer his calls. His house was deserted, with slogans daubed on the walls and his family gone. Anger flared up inside him and he began to pound on the doors of his neighbours dwellings. Two or three brave men left their houses and confronted him. His retribution was swift and decisive, and Soulrazor feasted for the first time in many days.
Ragwolf was just beginning to enjoy himself, when he heard the sound of horses approaching. Turning, he held Soulrazor by his side and watched as a band of warriors, led by a woman, rode towards him. They circled him and reined in their mounts. The woman studied Ragwolf for a moment before speaking, in a voice as soft as a feather, yet as sharp as a blade.
“Well, well, it seems you do indeed possess that which we seek.”
Ragwolf stiffened and would have attacked her; however he had not heard the warrior dismount and creep up behind him. As the club struck home, blackness dulled his senses and unconsciousness claimed his body.

[moonglum]

As they walked, Eren wondered whether he had read her mind. She must be more careful until she was sure what was in his heart.
And, with that single thought, she saw Jason as a child, surrounded by his family. She saw a younger girl and another young boy, playing together. His siblings, she assumed. A woman sat and watched them, smiling. A man was standing at the woman’s side, one hand on her shoulder. As Eren’s mental gaze travelled up to the mans face, she gasped, involuntarily. The shutters came down, like a door slamming shut. Jason had closed her out of his mind. They both stopped mid-stride, and he said.
“You really must stop doing that, you know.”
“I’m sorry.” Eren’s reply was a little distant, for two reasons. The first was that of being caught out. A sense of guilt brought on feelings of embarrassment. So far, even though she was wary of him, she found herself liking him. She could see why her daughter was attracted to this man. The second, occurring almost simultaneously, was Mervina’s voice in her mind.
“Jason.”
“I know. Go,” he said and stood back as the dragon swept down to earth and landed next to the pair. Eren swung herself up into the saddle.
“I will return here, Jason. I am committed to this now.” She called down, as Mervina took flight and bore her upwards, towards the heavens.
Jason watched them go and smiled to himself, as he resumed his trek back to the house.

[moonglum]

Letitia slowly opened her eyes and eased herself off the edge of the dais. She walked around the, still sleeping, figure in the chair and thought long and deep. So that which was lost, is still unrecovered, she thought. This little man deceived Araemia, and thereby brought about her downfall. It was Araemia who gifted the blade to Jerek. Although why, remained unclear. His duplicated sword held powers she had not known about. Powers which could either help, or hinder her plans. She made up her mind quickly. Snapping her fingers, Ragwolf and the chair vanished to another dimension and another time.

Letitia returned to her tower room and consulted her glass. Changing the image, she sent an urgent thought to Mervina. At this point she did not want Jason to overhear. Altering the image once more, she took the glass with her and left the room. A few moments later she arrived in the Hall of Mirrors. Transferring the image in her glass to one of the larger mirrors, she made a gesture over the glass and stepped through.

She found herself in a deserted village. The buildings had been burned down and the remains of bodies lay everywhere. She moved quickly through the devastation until she came to an old barn-like building and went inside. It did not take her long to find the bundle, hidden away under the floor. The sacking had started to rot and the cord came free easily enough. Finally she held Wraithslayer in her hands. The twin of her own blade, the lost sword, recovered at last. Now they could fight Chaos once more, and this time, they would be triumphant.

She tied the sword over her shoulder and stepped outside into the sunlight. Letitia blinked as she took in the scene. She was surrounded by Gothmiri soldiers on horseback and directly opposite the door stood Elysha.
“So, little sister,” Elysha purred. “Now you have two things that rightfully belong to me.”
“You forfeited the right to this blade when you renounced your birthright, traitor!” Letitia almost spat the word.
Elysha laughed and pointed her hand towards her sister. From her fingertips issued a bolt of energy, which plucked Letitia from the ground and slammed her against the side of the barn. As she hung there, pinned to the timbers, she heard faint wing-beats in the distance. Summoning her strength, she sent a blast of energy at her sister, knocking Elysha off her feet. As the force pinning her diminished, Letitia flew upwards into the waiting grip of Mervina. The dragon turned and, straight as an arrow, disappeared through a shimmering portal in the sky.