Lucid Waking

Archive for July, 2006

Haikou of the Moment (No. 3)

Sleep dusted wishing
Shooting stars across my mind
Pillows soft calling

Car Trip

Originally published September 11, 2005

           “Are we there yet?”
            The dreaded question was said at least once every five minutes. It was almost becoming as reliable as the digital clock on the dashboard. And it was becoming so desperate she didn’t even have to answer no.
           Damn you, Jack she thought smiling. How in the world did you convince me to go on a road trip alone with the kids?
            The questions went on until ten o’clock, when the kids went to sleep. She pulled into a small motel and stopped the car. It was a dirty old place, but cheap enough for her needs.
           “I’d like a room with two beds please.”
           “$60,” the clerk at the counter said monotonously. She was tall and thin, with long black hair and thick black makeup drowning out her delicate features.
           “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed.
           “That’s our price, ma’am,” the clerk said, without a change in either her voice or expression.
           She slammed fifty dollars down on the table. “Give me a key. I’ve been traveling for eighteen hours today with four kids asking every five minutes if we’ve arrived. I’m not going to pay more than fifty for a room!”

The Swan’s Secret

More coming, of course…

            Papers were strewn all over the floor in a carpet and were flying across the floor above the wind that billowed through the window opening. Bottles of ink were shattered and smeared across several dozen empty parchment sheets. Chairs lay on their sides from the impact of a fall and table legs were dented from the impact of something heavy smashing against it. The bed sheets were splattered with ink from the wet papers flying across it and quills were ripped and stabbed into the floor. A large white swan lay on the bed covers, its beak soiled with ink, its head resting gracefully on the pillow. Lady Catherine looked at the creature’s barely moving ribcage as it laid facing away from her, completely docile.
            “Get Ann,” she barked to her soldiers behind her, “tell her she needs to bring a bucket of water and a brush.”
            Silently, two of her men at the back turned down the stairs and disappeared around the stone pillar rising in the center of the spiral staircase. Catherine sighed stepped around the papers as best she could. She pushed a piece of auburn hair behind her ear and approached the bed. The air smelled of potent magic and she could hear the faint buzz of a new spell between the crinkles of the paper in the wind. A large gust blew her into the bed post as a mysterious vile slid off the table and shattered on the floor in a sickening crash. The swan raised its head to glance at the vile as a small pink fire started in the papers, but it didn’t move anything else and lay its head down again on the pillow. Catherine sat down and felt the bed give under her weight. She rubbed the bedpost thoughtfully remembering the day she was sworn in as Captain of the Guard. She had been sitting on the bed at age eighteen and was being congratulated by the old captain of the guard and Lady Selena for saving an entire army section from a spell. It was just luck, she had thought at the time, but she knew better. In fact, if she hadn’t been scouting around enemy lines or got caught, the outcome of the war would have been quite different.
            “Oh, my,” Catherine heard Ann cry quietly as she put down the bucket with a faint thud and started on her hands and knees collecting papers. Catherine pulled her hand down from the bedpost quickly and looked at the swan.
            “Can you feel it?” Catherine asked her, reaching out a gauntleted hand towards the bird.
            Ann nodded and her curly hair bounced. “Clear as day. Seems like a wisp wizard, but I’m not sure.”
            “Or a shifter.” Catherine put her hand on the bird and lifted up the wing with her other hand. “There, there,” she comforted wiping away the silvery residue of the spell from the bird. It stuck to her hand like spider webs, but she rubbed her hands together until they stuck to the palm of her hand in a single thick string.  She picked it up just as easily and cradled it in her arms, watching Ann’s expression carefully.
            “Don’t give me that look,” Ann said wrinkling her nose, but keeping her head down. She was the only servant who would dare talk to the Commander General of the Army that way and she was probably the only servant who could get away with it. Ann had met Catherine when she was sworn in and assumed position as captain. But when Ann told her she was Lady Serena’s advisor, who stayed as a servant for safety reasons, Catherine was more than critical. However, it was advantageous to have help from a highly qualified mage to manage an orc problem that was terrorizing the town. Catherine rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.
            “So you haven’t a clue.”
            Ann shook her head and gathered up the ink in new glass pots with a quick wave of her hand and a small burst of purple light. She splashed a bit of water on the pink fire, which went out in a curl of smoke and placed the new inkwells in a circle. She stood up and waved her hand to gather all of the papers in a pile on the table. Another wave sent the bottles of ink into another group next to the papers. She brushed off her apron in two neat little pats and walked over to the table.
            “Obviously that swan is Lady Serena.”
            Catherine looked down her armor at the bird in her arms. “Given a sedative.”
            “Don’t be so mundane,” Ann bent down and lifted the bird by balancing it on her forearms. She carefully placed the bird on the floor and pulled out a piece of chalk from her apron.
            “What do you know of the Wisp wizards and the shifters?”
            Catherine snorted indignantly. “Not much. Wisp wizards were shifters that talked to the dead and can travel back and forth between death and life. They have legends of this shifter who learned necromancy and spoke with the dead. He made a deal with some death god and was granted permission to travel back and forth between life and death.”
            “Uh, yes. They are the messengers of the dead. Much as we have a mail service, they are the mail service to the underworld. They also have pilgrimages to discuss treaties with dead kings and living ones. Sometimes the dead can’t stay dead and manage to hire one to finish their dirty work while they are living. What about shifters?”
            “Shifters? Isn’t it obvious? They change their form of the form of others.”
            “Not just that,” Ann sat down on the chair and pulled her blond hair out of her face. “That’s the only magic they can do. None of this wind stuff,” she waved her hand in a nonchalant way about the room. “But, shifters are the only ones that can change the shape of something,” she said pointing at the swan on the floor.
            The swan was now sitting in a cage of blue light, flapping its wings wildly, a sort of fear and fury in its eyes.
            “I suggest you call off the troops,” Ann said smiling.
            Catherine got up and went towards the door. “No further orders; continue training. Lieutenant, take three of your troops to guard the foot of the stairs. Dismiss.” Clanking metal armor confirmed her orders and she closed the door when she got back in the room. Ann had rested her head on her thumbs and was lightly touching her index fingers on her head.
            “So about that sedative,” she said. She smiled maliciously, but didn’t face Catherine. “It wasn’t a sedative, it was a demon structure. They use them to make sure no one dismisses the spell. If another spell is used, the demon is released and the body our Lady is contained in goes berserk. They keep the second body quite, sleepy, to make sure nothing happens to it.”
            Catherine turned, horrified to the swan pushing its neck through the cage bars and slamming its body in full force to its cage. The blue bars of the cage cut into the skin between the feathers and when the bird pulled back for that moment, Catherine could see blood dripping down the snow white feathers.
            “They usually stop when a deal is met or her time is served,” Ann said, continuing to watch, without moving.
            Catherine nodded. “Ann, tell me what you found out.”
            Ann turned to look at her, frowning.
            “Now,” Catherine said forcefully.
            Ann instinctively sat up straight in the chair as a slight fear gripped her. And this is what she’s like as commander, she realized standing up and gathering her composure. She walked over to the bed and pulled out a coin from underneath the pillow. “I can’t be in the room when you read it,” Ann said sadly bending down to enlarge the chalk ring in the room and lightly breaking the smaller one. The cage popped open to accommodate the larger side but the bird still thrashed against it. “I already know of the agreement and swore not to tell. If anything happens, I didn’t tell you about this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to stay here.”
            “Wait, Ann. How does this work?”
            “Wait for the moon.”
            Another gust of wind blew into the room and whistled through the bars of the cage, but didn’t knock anything over. Catherine nodded and flew out of the room and down the stairs.
            “Go back to training,” she said as she passed the guards at the bottom of the stairs. They walked off in clanks of metal as she ran the opposite way to the camps. The air was still outside and had a faint fresh smell of garlic from the kitchen. Birds chirped in the trees and the sun shone down on the field. She stepped cautiously into her tent and sat down on her cot. Sighing, she placed the coin in her trunk and locked it in. With the click of the lock she heard the leaves of the trees rustle and a scrabbling at her tent. Ever alert, she pulled out her dagger and waited. The shadow of someone about her height walked around her tent, bent down to either track, scope, or see if she was inside. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she waited carefully, embracing the energy inside her. Soon, whomever it was rushed off as suddenly as they had come and the sun dimmed for a brief second. She waited inside her tent for a little while longer, until she knew there was no one there and trotted off towards the barracks.

Summer Schedule

As of July 16 until August 22, past updates will be presented Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays to get caught up in a timely manner, unless I physically cannot get to a computer. This will cut down on original updates, but it will get everything transferred in a shorter amount of time. Just keeping you informed…

Reflections of Earth

Originally published September 09, 2005

An eagle’s scream pierces the silent air
Running, running
Green trees
Brown earth
Rushing past, running in fear
The stifling heat makes it hard to breath
Crouching shadows in peripheral vision
Turning your head to look at the sound
Trip and go sprawling
Hanging off a cliff between life and death
Hope above the clouds.

The White

Originally published on September 8, 2006

           The white gate on the edge of the second world was closed for the night and it loomed like a prison. Tall and luminous, the gate imitated a small mundane garden gate; wood panels nailed together and painted lovingly a bright white. But this gate was neither made of wood nor lovingly painted. The gate was hot to the touch and was only painted to cover up the bloodstains, mud smears, handprints, and rubber smudges that soiled its perfect smooth surface. The air was filled with the smells of burned flesh, burnt rubber, and human waste. Not a sound was heard, although people were talking to try to fill up the space.
           The whole place was an illusion anyway. It was only the gate way in between the first world and the second. The whole place was just a void and put together in no apparent order or thought. The space was just a void with the only light coming from behind the gate, through the cracks in between the doors. This place stood for nothing, but the land beyond the gate held hope; the only thought holding the faith of these people together.
           The silent silhouettes of the people waiting for the gate to open splattered the dark of the night like black paint on a black canvas. It was hard to tell the gender of the people since only their heads could be seen. One just knew that the space was filled with people; families were pushed together and forced to live yet again in each other’s presence. There was always the question of living through the night, but these were pushed aside for the madness of no dreams.
            The silence of the sleeping figures was broken by a cacophony of hooves upon the freezing ground. The gate slowly opened, but the fear in the people there tied them down and no one ran. The approaching spirit army went into the second world without a glance back. The gate slammed closed with an earsplitting bang that shook the ground. The people sat fully alert listening to the echoes bouncing off the nothing. The sound slowly died down to nothing but a whisper, but few people could venture back to sleep nor could they calm their beating hearts down enough to even think of dreams.
            A long time passed and the white gate was thrust open. Fog rolled out of it like water out of a dam. Light streamed from the second world, reflecting off seven people’s faces and absorbing into others. This was the time for them to advance to the second world; they were dead afraid. Silence made it’s home into the cavern for a few precious minutes. Then the sound of water, soft but clear, filled the space; it echoed and flowed continuously.
            “You are the chosen,” a small whispered voice said, “why don’t you come home?”
            As if in a dream, the seven chosen stood up and proceeded through the gate. Once they had passed through, and all that was last seen was the heel of a little boy stepping into the fog, the gate shut with the same abrupt noise that it had uttered earlier. The white light still shown over the gate hopefully, but it didn’t shine much longer. All went black.

Voices…

            She rolled over on her side and smashed her pillow into her ears trying to get the voices out of her mind.
            “There’s nothing here in this hell, Madison,” a soft, voice cooed. “End it all and come to heaven. Come and join your parents, you haven’t spoken of them since the car crash. They’re waiting for you, Madison, give in…”
            She groaned and pushed it away, rolling over to her other side.
            “Madison, how dare you!” someone shrieked like a buzzard making her head buzz. “You stupid little girl for getting that answer wrong on the test! Less than perfect, that’s what you are! Flawed, a failure. I’d like to know how hard your stupid brain worked on that homework assignment you got back. A ‘D!’ Slacker! Is that what you expect to get every time?”
            She curled up into a fetal position and opened her eyes. Her room was the exact same way it had been three hours earlier when she first went to bed. The nightlight in her room was shining strong and didn’t illuminate anything that had intruded in her sleep. She felt her eyes getting droopy, but she tried to fight it, staring at the binding of the book beside her bed.
            “Well, what about that suspension you got for beating Roger up?” another reprimanded; the voice was low, but tinged with murder. “What did he do to you? You could have answered that catcall in a much less violent way. Delinquent!”
            She moaned again, but couldn’t open her eyes. “Leave me alone,” she whispered.
            “Leave you alone?” the second voice screeched. “Not until you stop acting like a stupid little delinquent.”
            “Just end it now,” the first voice said, mellow.
            She felt someone caressing her shoulders and she relaxed. “Stop,” a fourth voice said, smooth and melodious as a harp, yet firm.
            “Madison, listen to me. You’re not bad and you’re not horrible. Just work through your flaws to make you stronger. You don’t have to give in to what other people say is right. Become the beauty that you crave, be the good you want to see in the world. It wasn’t your fault that your parents died. That ‘D’ you got was for a homework assignment that you did the night your grandmother went to the hospital. You make mistakes in your life that you have to fix and you already apologized to Roger, three times. Don’t let them get you, just grab Sleep’s hand and don’t let go…”
            She focused on the voice and grabbed someone’s hand and held onto it before losing consciousness. Her foster mother got up from the edge of the bed and brushed sweaty tendrils of hair from her adopted daughter’s eyes. She sighed and left the room, careful to brush the memory bug from off the pillow.
            “Is she alright?” her husband asked, sleepily, as she got into bed again. “She was thrashing like a storm.”
            “She’s fine, she just needed a little help. Nothing I couldn’t help her fix.”

To Those in America:

Happy Independance Day! I for one will be celebrating with cake, fruit, and buffalo wings. Everyone pray for no rain!

Besides that point, I want some feedback. I can either post pieces of my story that I’m working on here, in the blog, and keep the whole thing together on a separate page in addition to pieces here and there in the archives, or just put it on a separate page without bothering to post it. Either way is fine with me. I’ll just go write another post right now. You’ll have to wait to see what it is. (Sorry about yesterday’s post, by the way, I got carried away.)

Third, there is a page over there —> where I write commentary about the posts. Any questions you have (like, what the heck is this) may be answered over on that page. If you are curious about what the next post may be, there is also a preview for you. General news besides a few posts, like this one, can be found there as well. Just so you know, it is probably a good idea to check in there once and while. It might not be as interesting as this to read, but it will keep you informed.

That’s about it! For all you Americans out there: Have a terrific Fourth of July! And if you’re not American: Have a wonderful July day!

Burning

            Every villager helped to move the town. As soon as houses were cleaned out of belongings, they were washed with oil and marked off on their list allowing the families to move on to the mountains. They made sure everything was evacuated, and little by little started building a hidden town in the mountains miles away from any civilization. By the time summer came with very little water, the town was re-established far away from it’s past location. The last family left made sure the oil was wet and lit the town. There were no regrets that evening about the choice to burn the town.
            The queen’s army could see the smoke from a distance of five days away. General Sarah hated to file defeat but there was nothing else to describe it. They went full speed ahead and by the time they reached the town, it had been burned to the ground. Not a single thing was left except for the burning mud and hay. The only thing in sight besides the burning town was the mountains in the distance, which is where Sarah knew her army had to head, because they were there, somewhere.