One who loses memory loses identity. A spark of feeling that there was
something before, a painful ember of emotion that marks a great loss of some
sort, is perhaps all that remains. That ember then becomes a mourning of
the self, a wake and burial for what was lost, what will never be again.
But such is felt only through fragments of dreaming, impurities among mostly
black, vacant sleep, night after night without lullaby.
Awakening
I sat up with a gasp, disoriented and feeling as if my body had moved for
the first time. I was without a name, my only companion a few dim memories
that felt like dreams, hints that perhaps I might not be waking into life
for the first time. I was lying on a grassy clearing, my body seeming tiny
and inadequate. I rolled around, feeling the small protest of a fading nest
of bruises across my body. I could not remember where I had come from, only
that I had lost something or someone dear to me, and I would never be the
same without it. I still had the heart, though not the mind, of a child,
and because of that I whimpered and sobbed until I was half blind.
So absorbed in was in my misery that I failed to notice the shapes surrounding
me until the beastly laughter interrupted my thoughts. When I finally wiped
my eyes enough to see, a gaggle of green and brown little beasts, no larger
than myself, greeted me with impish laughter. Some were leaping up and down
in either extreme glee or extreme fury, though I judged these beings barely
intelligent enough to understand the difference. "Go away." I whimpered.
It was only then that I took note of their leader standing behind them; a
great, obese lizard that stood on its hind legs and might have devoured me
without notice, entirely by accident. Its foggy white eyes, though full of
alertness, showed no particular capacity for insight, and I felt a bit more
secure. I was frightened, yet at the same time I felt a new strength grow
in me as I was forced to draw on my enigmatic grief to combat the fear.
"Food!" One of the imps chirped, its voice sounding like what one might expect
a stuffed toy animal to sound like if it were able to speak. I began to laugh,
though as my mind expanded on the situation I restrained myself, perhaps
thinking it would benefit me to keep them thinking I was afraid for just
a little longer.
"Food!" The others followed in similar voices, repeating the word over and
over. I put on my most frightened face as they continued to chant awkwardly
and out of sync. "Food! Food! Food!"
"Stand aside, fools!" The fat leader shouted, shoving a handful of stumbling
imps aside with each arm. He had the voice of what I might expect from a
very large old woman offering her childs children a warm drink, the
comical contrast with his outer appearance banishing all desires of such
a drink from my mind.
"Well, well, well, well
" He purred, rubbing his oily green hands
together and looking at me in a most uncomfortable manner. He then knelt
down, drawing close to me until his reptilian nose nearly touched mine. His
voice dropped to a sickening whisper. "What do you say, cub? How bout
some more of those tears? Some whimpering? A cry for help? A scream, perhaps,
or the name of your worm-feeding mommy?"
I did my best to oblige him, but I was yet a terrible actor. "You can do
better than that!" He snapped, licking his grotesque lips.
Frustrated, I launched a wad of spit at him, striking true squarely between
those glazed white eyes. "Youre ugly. Get out of my face." I said
matter-of-factly.
It took him a moment for him to snarl. "Not as ugly as you, cub. Have you
ever looked at yourself?"
A part of me could not help giving his question some thought, and it dawned
on me that I had little, perhaps no memory of what I looked like. It occurred
to me that my face might very well not look much better than these beasts,
and thus began the long history of that thought haunting me.
"Ha-ha, but I will overlook your insolence, my little peach. I, Ozzie the
great, will overlook it, I will, yes. I will, this once. Have you a name,
my pitiful little morsel?"
"II cant" I began to answer, then saw the folly of admitting
my amnesia. I would allow this stumbling, blithering nose crumb who had somehow
stumbled upon size and sentience to gloat no more than necessary. "No." I
concluded.
"Hm, well. I am your mommy now, and my chums are your family. Do you
understand? Hmmm?" His eyes only grew more hungry as he said this, and twin
lines of yellow drool spilled down his scaly sack of chin.
"Family!" One of the imps shouted, followed by others.
"Yeah!"
"Yeah, were your family!"
"Family!"
"Were your mommy now!"
Ozzie boxed that last imp to speak atop the head, then wiped his chin, looking
about him and returning his cow like gaze to me. He moved his great jaw in
an attempt to say something, but I saw nothing clever brew beneath that thick,
glistening brow. "Off we go!" Was all he managed to stammer before he hefted
me across his shoulder with one meaty hand. I knew it was pointless to struggle.
The last time I ever remember crying did not happen in a solitary room, or
in the dark arms of night, or before any tangible grave, as it seems to happen
for noted figures of dignity. Instead, it began perhaps a quarter hour later,
while I was still atop Ozzies rough, yet almost malleable back, surrounded
by his gaggle of munchkin-imps marching toward their nest, smitten with venomous
glee. The pain of that mysterious something I had lost was overpowering my
little mind, my essence that was still very young and at the mercy of even
such clumsiness as that which surrounded me then. Without warning, I broke
into a loud, bawling fit. I tried to cry a name that refused to leave the
tip of my tongue, tried to whine that I wanted to go home, that I wanted
to be away from these frightening, ugly beasts forever. My crying nearly
drained out the string of presumed obscenities Ozzie was shouting at me to
keep silent.
I cried long and hard, cultivating, sowing, reaping and dissolving the last
of my childish fears. While I did this, I gathered strength from this sorrow,
from this loss that I must one day regain, and felt it changed me. At last,
several minutes before we reached the surface and entered Ozzies rotting
lump of castle he called home, I stopped as abruptly as possible, neatly
cutting away all traces of misery from my demeanor. The new strength surged
within me, and I knew this marked the last hour of the last day I would cry.
Smirking, I began to travel the beginnings of a plan I was concocting from
desperate intelligence, a plan to keep from falling under the feet of these
oafs. "What a burnt-out molehill. And its not half as large as my home."
I said in my clearest, most confident voice.
This gave the big reptile some pause, as no doubt he expected me to still
be talking through broken tears.
I then hopped from his shoulders, vaulting in a half-arc onto my feet and
holding his stupefied expression. "Whats the trouble?" I dipped my
voice in mockery. "Are my words having a hard time crossing from ear to ear?"
Inside, my surprise at my own words mirrored his. After shedding my emotional
weaknesses, my eloquence and clarity of mind seemed reborn.
"Quiet, you! Quiet!" Ozzie shouted, still sounding like a mountain of aged
female despite all his anger. "You little beast! You have no idea who you
address! You are now the property of Ozzie the magnificent, crown king of
the second-born polyblooded Mystics and successor to the great Cold King!"
"And who kissed you, the Iguana princess of wind?" I intoned.
His face grew comically taut, and he leaned forward. "Be. More.
Respectful. Lest you are elected my salad dressing for the evening.
My pups already think you look delicious . . ." He knelt an inch closer,
lowering his voice an octave. "Though between you and me, cub, Id forget
you halfway to dessert."
"Im not scared of you." I said quietly.
"Why not?!" He screamed, spraying spittle and scattering his army of imps
a few feet. He looked about to jump, and I was sure the ground would complain.
"Because youre all at my mercy." I shot, then impulsively stuck my
arm out and obliterated his ornate gold belt buckle with a small bolt of
electricity. I had felt the next stage of my powers unfold from distress,
felt everything I was now capable of, so this came without a resurgence of
my earlier surprise. Ozzies jaw dropped in sync with his three layers
of trunks, and I wasted no time darting over and past him. I knocked several
imps blocking my way aside, speeding the rest of the way to his castle.
Once at the gates, I forced them open, then closed and willed them locked
behind me. I allowed my nocturnal vision to stir, then used my new power
to light a few torches until an orange light danced across the glossy black
interior. I had to admit, the inside was far more impressive than the carcass.
I marched back and forth, humming to myself and exploring one great hall
after another back and forth for a few minutes until I began to hear noises.
Until this point, I had only noted the company of the occasional bat. My
boyish impulsiveness had blinded me to the obvious truth that yes, of course
the castle would be filled with worlds upon worlds more of the vermin Ozzie
had brought with him.
It was not yet evening, and I realized my romping had probably woken these
beasts prematurely. I only smiled to myself, knowing my good timing would
prove all the more fun if Ozzie was truly their toughest. I waited eagerly
for two adjacent doors to fall sloppily open. Out stepped what looked like
a pair of emaciated gargoyles with pale gray skin. When their beady red eyes
fell on me, they frowned and exchanged glances.
"Seems a little early for breakfast, eh?" One spoke, his voice sounding like
pretentiously hearty gravel that did not fit his body.
"Ayeh . . ." The other responded. "But if the masters out huntin
his food early, whore we to grumble?"
"Right! So, uh, shall we
?"
I chose that moment, as others began to pour into the hall. I surrounded
them with a small circle of fire, then began zapping electric bolts at their
feet. "You idiots! The fat fool was my breakfast. I run this place
now!"
Too excited to wait for their response, I darted from hall to hall, door
to door, spreading similar havoc and watching gleefully as the creatures
began to scramble around in panic. I encountered cloaked avian warriors,
floating creatures that looked like phony magicians, snake women with tails
in place of legs, and other varieties of creatures, all running from my
demonstrations like sheep from a loud noise. I was having the time of my
life, and marveled at how easy it would be to have my way around here, to
be under no ones dominion. I was intoxicated by my new strength, as
any unprepared boy my age might have been.
At last, I decided to wait for my corpulent new guardian to arrive at the
gates. I heard him when he was a mile away, then giggled as the expected
pounding and shouting began. Thud. Thud. Went the large wooden
doors.
"Open up, you brat! Lord Ozzie the Unctuous demands it! Open or suffer, boy!
Suffer! Suffer, suffer, Sufferrrr!!"
Thud.
"Hey!" I shouted to all the vermin around me. "Gather over here. Your old
masters back! Dont you think hell be mad if you dont
open the door for him?"
The beasts slowly looked from me to the entrance, then began to condense
just behind the doors.
"This is your last chance, cub! OPEN THESE DOORS RIGHT NOW!"
"Okay, mommy!" I answered. Then, timing my will perfectly just
as he rammed himself against the door, I snapped my fingers and willed them
wide open. The great lump of green that was Ozzie, clad in only his
undergarments, flew right into the mass of his cohorts who had just been
about to open the doors themselves. Many fled, but few escaped being momentarily
flattened under his weight.
I laughed until my chest hurt, then suddenly felt very tired and exhausted.
My legs gave, and I collapsed dreamily onto my back, only lazily keeping
an eye on Ozzie as he brushed himself off and waddled over to me.
"You would be an unforgivable indigestion." I heard him mutter in his slimy
tone, but only barely. I raised an arm to shoot more lightning at him, but
my powers were long gone. I had used up too much of my new energy far too
quickly, as other children wolf down sweet foods with wild abandon and pay
for it later. I yawned, in a strange state of ecstasy as I felt him lift
me by the back of the neck and carry me down one of the halls, to tired and
happy to care what my punishment might be. I had already judged that, for
some reason he had not yet mentioned, he intended to keep me around for a
long, long time.
Mirror
Ozzie was telling the truth about his status, as he soon explained. He was
a missionary destined to wage war against the oppressive humans who had
persecuted him and his race ("our race", he would correct me) since the dawn
of time. As much as I enjoyed causing trouble for the beast, I began to feel
specks of sympathy for him as darker pieces of my own memory returned, memory
of my peers, of my own mother looking at me with disgust. He revealed to
me that an old legend had decreed he would die fighting the oppressive humans
alone and without an heir. He had then consulted what he believed to be a
dark god, and had been told he would find a child who would grow into a strong
and powerful wizard worthy of succeeding him precisely where I had been sleeping.
The "god", he claimed, said I was to be the strongest champion to their cause
yet. Ozzie had only been repulsed by my ugliness (after all, he said, I had
no fangs or scales or claws, and my mouth and chin were always so dreadfully
dry), but had never seriously considered feeding me to his servants. As the
days passed, I continued my rampant tantrums of terror, but with slightly
more care and reserve. My green godfather, or mommy as he appointed
himself, knew I was well beyond his ability to control, yet fueled by some
hope that puzzled me, he still endeavored to complete my upbringing in the
best way he knew how.
I was given a dark, cozy room with a large mirror behind the door. Days passed,
then weeks, then months. I made sure Ozzie and all his most trusted aides
had the darkest of circles under their eyes from lack of rest. The gates,
windows and parts of the roof had to be rebuilt every fortnight or so, victim
to my urges and experimental whims. I was informed I had tripled the
castles food intake, and only Ozzie himself rivaled me in appetite.
I forced him to carry me on his shoulders from time to time and crawl on
all fours, galloping about the halls, until such childish urges began to
appeal less to me. When he began to truly lose his sanity due to sleeplessness,
I would calm myself accordingly until he was ready for more mental and
psychological exploitation. I allowed him to train me in the ways of simple
warfare and teach me the texts of old strategy and magical philosophy, with
various reminders that he was, in fact, at my mercy. While I could hardly
grasp his lessons at first, as my mind and body grew I began to absorb more
and more. He was preparing me, preparing us all, for the revenge we would
exact on those who had cast us out of society and tried to enslave us.
As the next several years passed, two important things began to happen. First,
bit by bit, I began to regain my old memories of home, and the events that
had transpired until the point of me waking up surrounded by the school of
imps. I regained knowledge of my approximate age, remembering how old I was
when I was discovered here and adding the time since. I knew I had been very
close to a certain young woman, a sister who was more dear to me than all
the world, though I could not remember her name. While the longing to see
her again returned and the pangs of homesickness set in, I knew I must keep
it all a secret. Instead of sharing my past with Ozzie or any of the rabble,
I released my frustration with increased anger and destructive rampage each
morning before bed. More than once, everybody would wake to find the castle
inconveniently missing. It was only when they bothered to contemplate the
nature of the various flavors of ash that had become their collective blanket
did their primitive minds dawn upon the truth. With each rebuild, I would
offer a few suggestions for aesthetic improvement that always pleased Ozzie
in retrospect.
Second, a certain element of my powers that seemed to control aspects of
my physical appearance began to work in strange ways. I had no contact with
any society of humans; none came to the castle, nor did we travel to any
of their villages, wherever they might be in this strange new world. I began
to associate myself more and more as a mystic, as an aberrant one of
Ozzies own brood. For why else had nearly all of my own people rejected
me? Why else had my own mother always been a stranger to me, and why else
did this bumbling but marginally successful lizard taken me in as one of
his own? The answer was simple; I had to be one of these creatures, in heart
if not in body. As I studied myself in the mirror, I noticed my teeth growing
just a little sharper, my ears becoming just a tad less round with each year,
perhaps each month. Though I later realized this was the result of my innermost
powers altering my outer appearance to fit my new self-perception, at the
time it only strengthened my beliefs.
When I was ten or eleven years old, I had my first contact with human society
in this world.
It was just before dawn, and I was sitting on the roof preparing for a sleepless
day, memories of my sister especially strong that morning. I was in the midst
of contemplating which floor of the castle to destroy today, and considering
my favorite way of going about it. While fire was thorough and left a rather
pleasant aroma, I felt I was in more of a lightning mood; lightning was ever
so more pontifical. Perhaps a seasoning of frozen rain once I had compromised
the roof would accentuate my feelings nicely. Just as I began to work up
my energy, I heard Ozzies heavy footsteps behind me.
"Neh. What mischief are you stirring up here tonight, cub?"
I turned to face him, raising an eyebrow at the red coat and tailed hat with
white, fluffy trim that he was wearing. If I had not been angry, I would
have laughed. "Im not a cub. I do have a name, and Ill
remember it one day. Make no mistake about that!"
"Neheh. Well give you a name soon enough, dont you worry. But
come down from here, we must prepare to pay out first visit to Truce village.
Id have preferred broad night, but then those silly humans might just
fall back to sleep and convince themselves I was a bit of rebellious drink
in their imagination. Its time to make our presence known, and then
in a few more years, well really make our presence known!
Mwaha."
"I dont want to go to any village." I whined.
"You must! Your powers already exceed mine. Our timing will be flawless!
Theyre holding some pathetic festival. Without you, theyll think
were just part of the act unless I destroy the place. And I dont
want to destroy the place, no, not yet, I want them to shake and
scream and cry to their mommies! Their mommies!
Their--"
"Of course you wont scare them. Why are you dressed like that?"
Ozzie frowned to himself, then cleared his throat and scowled. "Your ignorance
is far too ostentatious, grasshopper. Youll have to do something about
that. Allow me to explain. This suit is worn by a figure of fear in their
legend; it is the very augmentation of their great daemon, the Saint of
Claws!" He finished with a bearing of teeth.
"How could a daemon be a saint?" I asked in a skeptical tone.
"Fool! Once again you flaunt your ignorance. He is an evil Saint! He terrorizes
cubs younger than you in the middle of the day, invading home after home
through the chimneys and"
"I thought humans slept at night? Isnt that why youre waiting
for the sun to go?"
"No--! I, er
yes butno! Youre wrong, and Im right,
and you must listen! Come with us. It will be an invaluable learning experience
for you. He who is to lead a great war must know the face of his enemy."
"NO!" I shouted. My interest had been piqued, though not by any wind from
him, and I intended to concede, but not just yet.
"YES! Our success depends on you!"
"Stuff your success. Im not going, and you know you cant make
me."
"Youre going!" He bellowed, jumping and landing on his feet to accentuate
his words. The roof reverberated slightly.
"Nuh-uh."
"Youre going! Youre going!" He shouted and jumped up and down.
At long last, the section beneath his feet compromised. I heard several more
crashes as he plummeted through floor after floor as I doubled over in laughter.
When I regained a measure of self-control, I climbed all the way down the
wall to the ground floor and burned a likeness of me through the doors as
I entered.
Ozzie, in his red outfit, was spread out on his stomach atop a small mound
of gargoyles and avian soldiers. His cap had fallen over his face. I pointed
and laughed more, until I felt my stomach about to burst. I then sat down
and stretched, waiting for him to wake. When he did, I almost felt a trace
of pity at the hurt on his face as his lazy eyes seemed to assess me.
"Okay, I changed my mind. Ill come with you." I broke the silence in
a patronizing tone. At that point I truly did feel sorry for him, and lent
him what little physical strength I had in lifting his great mass to his
feet.
"Now, listen you littlewha? What did you say?"
"I said Ill come with you. Maybe Ill even help you clean up when
we get back. But I go where I want. Okay?"
My small hand was still buried in his huge paw, and at that moment I thought
I might have felt a softening between us. An instant later it was gone, and
I jerked my hand free by forcing it against his thumb, one of the most basic
defensive fighting techniques I had learned.
The Surprise
The human village was unremarkable, and humans themselves made me nauseous
when they brushed by too closely. Perhaps it was that I had not been around
them for some time, or perhaps these humans seemed more like the weak, petty
surface dwellers I remembered from my own world. Or perhaps it was their
treatment of their most talented alongside lesser animals that angered me.
"Ive a good mind to raze this place." I muttered as I watched the circus
beside Ozzie, who was clothed enough to show as little skin as possible for
the moment. Human spectators surrounded us, and I was most disgusted at the
children who seemed to be of my age.
"Not yet, master, not yet." He pleaded. The title Master served
to both define my youth and acknowledge my superiority, and I had grown used
to it. "When the time is right, youll know. Ill do something!"
I sighed, making eye contact with one of the lions jumping through fiery
hoops. You poor, poor beast. I mused. Wouldnt you like to
be free, and maybe snack on a few of these idiots? The animals
eyes waxed, as if it could read my thoughts, but a moment later it joined
its comrades as a shrill whistle cut through my attention. The master had
marked the end of the first act.
The circus master was a small man, not much taller than I, with dark hair
and a fine, pointy mustache with a voice to match. He stepped forward, dismissing
the lions and their trainers with a few cracks of his own whip. He then made
a few signals with his hand, and four strong men dragged a large barred chamber
onto the center of the stage.
I choked on anger as I saw the figure step out of the cage, guarded and
surrounded by the four carriers. This was no animal, but a human just slightly
different from the others. She had long, dark hair and a face painted red
and white. A silvery cape opened to reveal a one-piece suit matching the
face paint. She bowed and waved nervously to the crowd, and a moment later
I gasped as the four men hurled torches at her. They were going to kill
her!
I began to step forward in panic, but then froze as my jaw dropped. This
woman had managed to catch all four torches, and was juggling them at an
increasing speed, not even remaining in one place. Every so often, the men
would throw one more, and she only added it to her collection without so
much as a flinch. My lower lip drooled down to the bottom of my neck, as
I had never seen such a thing.
Finally, with a strange wave of her arm, the woman winked the torches out
in one brilliant yellow-orange explosion. As I joined the crowd in clapping,
the four men suddenly collapsed, and a moment later they were snoring like
babies. This magic woman then put a finger to her lips, motioning the crowd
to quiet down so she might speak.
"For my next act, I will choose a volunteer from among all you lovely children."
The voice was somewhat deep and coarse, most definitely not that of a woman.
Just as I was frowning, I saw her hand suddenly shoot out directly at me.
I looked, and her large eyes were locked with mine. "You there. I have a
good feeling about you, my boy, so why not step forward and participate in
my next delight?"
Thought I did not like being called my boy, I was too flattered
to care. I shot out, paying no heed to a few gasps and murmurs of those in
the crowd who noticed the unusual shape my ears were taking.
"Whats your name, boy?" This remarkable clown asked in an even deeper
voice.
"Are you a man or a woman?" I asked, my curiosity winning over what few manners
I had. I did not know much about tact, even to those few I cared to impress.
The clown laughed nervously. "Aha . . . well, thats not important,
but you may as well assume Im a man." After scratching his chin
momentarily, he gestured sharply at me. "Ipso facto presto cadaro!"
A moment later, I was roughly the size of a human foot, green, slimy and
sitting on four legs. The pain of betrayal from this figure I had admired
felt more horrible than anything yet, almost as painful as the loss of my
sister. I was furious, and tried to gather up my most vicious of cursed.
All I managed to hurl at him was "rrrrrrrrribit!!!"
"Calm, calm now. No need for such naughty words." My great eyes blinked.
Had he somehow understood me, or was he only pretending to? All I felt was
the anger, the misery of this horrible form as the crowd laughed and cheered
with delight. "Dont worry, Ill restore you in a flash. Ardua
unravala inerto manifesto!"
Without so much as feeling a crack between thoughts, I was myself again,
though my anger remained unabated. "Ill fix you for that!" I shouted
as I pointed at the clown, envisioning becoming the lowliest of worms.
What happened next was the biggest surprise to come. A multicolored aura
wrapped around the clown, and in a moment a simple, albeit unusually large
worm stood before me. It was not very close to human size, though it was
certainly larger than a simple earthworm. It took me only a few seconds to
realize that somehow, from something done to me by my own transformation
or from a natural coming of age, more of my powers had developed.
The clown remained a worm for only a few seconds more. He was magic, after
all, and I was not surprise to see him return himself to his own form. The
shock spread uniformly across his features was enough to satisfy me. "That
was
interesting
" He muttered, then hardened his face. "But it
shant happen twice. You must be the challenge destiny promised me."
He then gestured and shouted "Huzzato!"
I suddenly found myself a slug, but just as easily returned to my true form
with a simple will of the mind and heart. "I hope that wasnt your best!"
I shouted as I prepared my next form. Another gesture from me, and he became
an iguana. By now, I was beginning to lose my hearing from the crowds
excitement.
We sparred like this for a few more minutes, changing through a variety of
animal forms until, exhausted, we reverted to normal and sat down.
"You are skilled, boy. Quite skilled, if I may judge."
"Youre not bad yourself. But stop calling me boy."
"Well then, do you have a name or not? I cant very well call you much
other than what I see if I know nothing about you."
"I
well
" After a moment of hesitation, I found myself explaining
the situation.
"Ah, well, a tragic story. Tragic, but best forgotten. My name is Flea. At
least Ive been called that since I was a lad half your age."
"Well, Flea, Im happy to meet you." The words were strange, alien to
my mouth, and it sounded quite out of place to hear them in my own voice.
Yet for lack of a better way to explain it, I had a good feeling. I decided
to be blunt. "Why dont you come home with me?"
Flea laughed, his voice rising a few octaves. "Thats all well and swell,
and Im sure there is much to be learned between us, but have you no
family? Ive been just above slavery for my remembered life,
but"
"You, a slave? With powers like this? Pathetic! How could you let that happen?"
"I, ah . . . well, thats another story. The masters had me believing
bad things would happen if I ever tried
"
"And you believed him, all this time? Look at him! Hes a wimp! Turn
him into a slug and feed him to the fish!"
At that moment, several interesting things happened at once. The angry owner
came up to us, shouting incomprehensibly beneath the roar of the crowd. Ozzie
decided it was time to declare himself and begin his reign of terror, so
he, too, jumped onto the stage and revealed himself, trying to look as
intimidating as possible. To his dismay, the crowd only erupted in laughter.
Some children a few years shy of my age even pulled toward him against the
hands of their parents.
Flea and I decided to focus our attention on the circus master, who was intruding
on our nerves slightly more. Simultaneously, we threw a spell at him, and
a blink later there stood a giant rooster with the legs of a frog. "lets
see how well you jump!" I screamed in my shrill voice as I sent one
bolt of lightning after another at his rump until he had hopped well out
of sight. By now, the horde of human spectators had begun to assess the continued
health of their amusement, and began to flee. I motioned for Flea to follow,
and pulled a complaining Ozzie along in the homeward direction.
"You ruined everything!" The fat reptile was shouting. "Because of your meddling,
the name of High King Ozzie the Ornate will not be spoken to bad children
to incite fear! At least not until my expenses allow for another attempt!
And who is this Peacock youve scraped up?"
Flea casually flicked his wrist, and a moment later Ozzie was spreading
brilliantly colored feathers. "That is a good question, my boy, who is he?"
The talk was long and the work was difficult, but by sundown I had effectively
made peace between them. This sort of deed was also alien to me, and I felt
a bit of discomfort, though the results were practical enough. Flea was impressed
by the castle, and after a few demonstrations of his power Ozzie readily
accepted him as a comrade-in-arms. He was even given his own wing of the
castle, and began to train some of the more able mystics.
A Name True
I finally began my mans growth when I reached my thirteenth year, and
my voice began to crack slightly. It was also the year I began training with
a heavier weapon, and the year I was to test my skills against a line of
fully grown knights.
That morning I was busy amusing myself by beating a hench and two gargoyles
to a bloody pulp outside the castle gates, surrounded by most of my cheering
and feasting subjects. Today would be an important day for me, the pride
and future of this microcosmic kingdom. I was to complete the last leg of
my physical training in a series of single combat matches against prisoners
Ozzie and a small number of us were busy securing from a raid on the Guardian
army.
Unfortunately, Ozzie had again ignored my counsel that while we took to bed
at this hour on normal days, humans were rising and at their freshest. He
did indeed return, but only after a few more battered subjects than I had
anticipated, and he was in shackles. To either side was a heavily armored
human dragoon with the Guardia crest on their helmets, and many rows more
following behind.
Just before Ozzie and the two guards marched what looked like the leader
of these invaders. He was half again as tall as the tallest of his men and
leaner than most, though he looked quite deadly. My subjects parted and cowered
as he approached with the rest, and his coal-black eyes began to scan our
assembly.
"If this be all there is to the rumors of a beast kingdom amassing against
us, I will crush it with my own right arm and return home to breakfast."
His men laughed, and for only a moment I felt the beginnings of fear. It
then dawned on me that the fates may have meant this to be my true test,
and I shook together a plan in my mind.
When this tall soldiers eyes met mine, they almost passed me before
disbelief crept over his brow. "Boy, some of your features unnerve me but
not enough to judge you deserving of this lot. Unless you are a fool, stand
aside."
"I am no fool." I said in my most adult tone, though I still looked and sounded
mostly a boy. "And I see something in you that beats differently from that
of your men. I have a proposition for you."
"Now listen, I dont play games"
"This is no game. You against me, single combat. Ill even fight you
at your own level, without using any of my powers. If you win, every last
one of our lives are yours to do with as you please. If I win, your head
remains on a stave and your men carry the rest of you home."
A mixed uproar followed my last statement. Ozzie looked angry, but I silenced
him with a scowl as I waited for the human leader to finish laughing.
"Youre brave, boy, Ill hand you that. And such arrogance and
effrontery would not glaze your words if you were not more than you appear
to be. Allow half a score minute for my men to place wagers on how long it
will take me to flatten you."
I granted his request, and eleven minutes later, his sword and my scythe
began to sing. I was still reasonably shy of a mans size, and he gained
a rapid advantage. But once I had warmed up, I made the best of my smaller
size and kept a clear mind. I toyed with him, allowing him to force me back
for a time and even throwing a frustrated little-boy grunt in every so often
for dramatics. When I judged the moment ripe, I split one of his mistakes
down the middle and ruined his balance, pressing my new advantage without
mercy. I changed hands, as I am ambidextrous, and darted everywhere as I
attacked. Though he did manage to surprise me and mark my cheek once, I must
have cut him in six or seven minor places before his weapon finally flew.
My scythe licked a thin splash of blood along the side of his throat. "Hmph."
Was all I could think to announce my victory. I expected this bitter-faced
man to spout curses or forget his word, but he remained quiet. A long silence
followed amongst his men and mine.
"The brat was swaddled in luck." One of my opponents subordinates called.
"Lets clean the place now and be done with it."
"No!" My defeated opponent shouted, though his eyes remained at his knees.
"The boy defeated me in all fairness. This is a disgrace, more so that I
am the most trained among you. If I cannot defeat him, our ranks have no
hope of defeating any of them. I cannot say it has been an honor, but this
chivalry-besotted kingdom has milked its duty of me. Back to your liege with
my head. I lived a knight, and I shall die one with few regrets." His eyes
then rose a few degrees to my chest. "Well, boy, on with it."
I had not intended to murder in cold blood, especially one as contrasting
of his kind as this soldier. A sudden idea came to me, as I realized he was
probably the only of his men to have a chance against any of us. The eyes
of the others were, as he had put it, drunk with ignorance and short-sightedness.
I saw in this mans rock-hard eyes and expression a defiance, an
understanding at the pathetic nature of the order he had been imprisoned
in for all of his life.
"Your life belongs to me, though I do not choose to end it. Had you hit me
a few marks further down, I would be feeding worms and your men would have
devoured our kingdom."
"You ask me to betray my kingdom? To spit in the eyes of the service that
has raised me since I left my mothers swaddling blanket, and awarded
me honors and medals enough to build a crown with since?"
"Yes." I answered, whipping my scythe into the ground near his knees. "What
you see around you is a small kingdom, a threatened kingdom that I intend
to raise to its fully glory."
This was a truth of truths. For some years, I had known I was the backbone
of these people, and that they would help me fulfill my goal. What this goal
was, the small remnants of fog in my memory would not yet tell me, but I
knew with time it could come clear.
"You honor me, my young lord. My service is yours."
I waited for the curses and murmurs of "coward", "backbiter", "traitor",
"eel" to pass among his men before speaking. "Do you have a name?" I asked
my new servant-at-arms plainly.
"My family named me Evanor. Since I was but a page in training, my skill
and my table manners have earned me the surname Slash."
"Evanor is the name of humans. I clean the taint from your honor and mark
you to begin afresh. Among us, you will be known only as Slash."
I lifted my scythe and touched it to his helmet, then turned to his men.
With a small gathering of will, I formed a great circle of flame around them.
I then moved to where I judged my voice would be heard by all, and used a
bit of my power to carry it. "I have mastered magic beyond magic, and I have
completed training with my chosen weapon. I have defeated wizards among wizards
without fighting, and I have bested knights among knights without chicanery.
The name given me by my family is lost. As I have bestowed upon Slash, I,
too, ask for a name from my subjects. Let it mark my achievements and denote
all I have meant to you, all I mean to you, and all I will do for our
childrens children."
It was a somewhat rehearsed speech, with a rehearsed answer to match. Ozzie,
Flea and the rest of my subjects knelt. Slash looked to me, and I nodded
for him to repeat their words a step behind.
"We name you, Magus. Your eyes are our stars, your hair the waves of our
ocean. We name you, Magus. No sad sunny day nor frightful blue skies can
harm us under your shadow. We name you, Magus. May your tears be the rain
that shields us, may your dreams be the night that guides us. Hail Magus.
Hail Magus. Hail Magus."
When they finished, I smote the fire around the remaining human soldiers.
"Return to your king and let it be known that I, Magus, will be at war with
the kingdom of Guardia five years from this night."
Seclusion
As the months and years passed, my moods grew darker. I left my room only
to train or sup. The perceptive side to my magic was still at work; my teeth
grew sharper than the fangs of the vampire bat, my ears close behind. Though
I had long since outgrown most of my large-scale destructive whims, the castle
began to rot from neglect, slowly descending to the state it had been before
I had arrived. My new status, the promise of a future for my new people,
my ability to lead, recognition of my own greatness . . . none of these gave
me any comfort. I was searching for something deeper, for the reason that
had pushed me to all this. Rather than whet my appetite for intrigue and
intellectual adventure, the elusiveness of my purpose depressed and infuriated
me.
I dreamt of my sister at night, tearing my sheets and leaving holes in the
walls from the anger that came when I realized I was forgetting specifics
of her face. Though I never murdered my own troops, I often left them beaten
and bloody if they happened to cross me at the wrong time, literally or
otherwise.
I began to study archaic texts of old civilizations, yellowed scriptures
and spells and any lost lore I could find in the cellar library, one section
of the castle I had never damaged. In fact, I had saved these books from
a very primitive, careless demise under Ozzies idiocy. Often I would
not emerge from my reading for days at a time, save to scare away those who
tried to distract me. When I did surface, I would call for a grand tournament
and participate to release my tensions.
"More than this old castle is falling apart, sir Magus." Slash began to warn
me shortly after the turning of my sixteenth year. "Our home is only a reflection
of the hearts and the morale of these men. You need to do something. Train
them before their fighting abilities erode, search the lands high and low
for others who might join our cause. Even Ozzie hardly does anything anymore,
anything other than lie in the dark and fill his belly. "
"Ozzie hardly ever did more than that." I answered sourly as I tried to out-pace
him through the halls. "And why dont you train them? Its more
your boon than mine."
"Me? I never lead anything a quarter this size, sir Magus. And I was never
even knighted."
"Well, then. Let me change that." I turned to face him, unsheathing my newest
scythe. "Kneel."
"But sir, I"
"Kneel. Or have you taken it upon you to disobey me?"
When he dropped to his knees, I touched his right shoulder with the
scythes edge, followed by his left, then his forehead as he removed
his helmet and craned his neck. "You are now the first night of my empire,
Sir Slash. Train my men as I trained you during your first days here."
"I . . . am honored, as I have never been honored before, sir Magus. Ah,
I . . . Ill take my leave now, by your dismissal."
"What else did you want to ask of me, Slash?"
"S . . . sir?"
"Your credit to my perception is far too lacking for your health. You best
ask me and be done with it."
"Well, come to think of it I did mean to ask your permission to enter the
Guardia tournament this year, now that Ive been knighted. I had hoped
to knock the wind and the honor from a few of my former . . . associates."
"So be it. Such matters do not interest me. You need not ask, and see to
it that you dont waste the breath henceforth. Now get you from my sight,
I have research to do."
A week later, Slash returned one evening with a gold medal around his neck,
bragging about defeating the Knight Captains Squire, Glenn, in melee
combat in the final round after being unhorsed. Flea took more of an interest
in his stories, while Ozzie lamented that Slash had not returned with any
foreign blood on his weapons or armor. I listened to as little as would suffice
to be thought proper of me before returning to my cave of literature.
I read the histories of Guardia and El Nido. I read of the gods most humans
worshiped, deities from the sky with powers that far exceeded the humans
of this age. Apparently they were cast down by a greater god, perhaps even
an evil god, and stripped of their powers. All this began to ring old, solemn
bells in the depths of my thoughts and feelings; these sky gods reminded
me of something, yet my memory had not yet regained the names of most that
had been familiar to me. I sought more information on this evil arch-god,
to no avail.
Where mysticism failed I sought texts of science and reason, tracing the
origin of simple machinery and the use of natural electricity. I thought
perhaps that might lead me to remember or discover how I had come from my
old life, a member of the royal family in an esteemed kingdom, to this new
world, a seed to bloom and fulfill an ancient prophecy of an exiled, dying
race. In the area of logic, I fared no better.
As time continued to pass, this enigma only ate at me further. Thoughts and
memories of my sister did not grow less painful as I had expected it to by
this phase. I had long since forgotten the concept of crying, and I could
not appear deranged and unbalanced in front of my subjects, so I took to
destroying something every morning in private.
The Dream
I had Ozzie, Flea and Slash train the mystics fully in my place as I withdrew
more and more. I did not emerge for my eighteenth birthday, though by morning
the entire castles ritual chanting in my praise echoed endlessly in
my ears. When I caught myself dozing, I took the book before me and hurled
it across the room. The force was enough that it split it in half with a
loud protesting crack, scattering a small dust storm of yellow page crumbs.
As I rose to pace, for the first time in countless weeks I came across a
looking glass. It was old, man-sized and tilted against the side wall, and
had apparently been left here to rot. My appearance my breath in my throat
like a spiked razor.
I did not recognize myself in the least, yet I felt it naturally fitting
enough for who I had become. I had the body of a somewhat tall, thin male
humanoid I stood a full six feet, and with my heeled boots I would
be two inches more. The rest of me could only barely be called
human as if whatever god that conceived me had gone awry,
or fouled as I grew older, or forgotten how I was supposed to look as I matured.
My skin was nearly snow-white with a hint of blue, as if I were perpetually
oxygen-starved. My teeth were now fangs in the most certifiable sense, two
of them showing even with my mouth fully closed. My nose looked as sharp
as my scythes tip, my ears longer and more pointy than most of my
subordinates. My blue hair swept below my shoulders, the only true connection
to my childhood.
With an angry fist, I smashed a crisp white web in the glass, watching as
a myriad of lesser, distorted images of myself sprouted to life. I then clawed
across it with my other hand, noting that my nails were virtually claws
themselves. I finally resorted to destroying the mirror with my favored bolt
of lightning.
I fell asleep on the ground, moaning and groaning in frustration against
a pile of books.
In my dream I saw a young girl, calling a name through tears of rage and
sorrow. I knew almost immediately that it was my sister, as my feelings always
seemed to grow their own will in her presence. This dream, however, was
uncharacteristically real.
"Janus?" She moaned, walking in her own bubble of darkness within darkness.
"Janus . . . Janus . . ." It was a strange name, one that held no meaning
to me, except perhaps in some past life, yet I knew it was me she sought.
Forgotten longings thawed as I scrambled toward her. "Schala!" I called,
the name finally clicking and snapping. "Cease this crying. Im coming.
Im coming!"
"Janus!" She shrieked, turning one way then another. It was as if she
didnt hear me.
"Im here!" I shouted, finally reaching her and reaching my arm out.
The ice of her shoulder shocked me as she turned, still somewhat blind, and
I saw she was changing. Though her hair had lost its color she was as pretty
as I remembered, only gripped by a deeper state of sorrow and despair than
I had ever seen or imagined. The sight almost made me sick. "Im
here
" I repeated, my voice giving way to dread.
"Who . . . who are you?" She cried. "Youre not Janus! Youre not
. . . go . . . monster . . . go away
"
No
I wanted to say, but my voice was lost. All I could do was
squeeze her watery grave of a shoulder tighter, trying to communicate by
feeling.
"Janus . . . no . . . no, no, no no
NOOO!" I found that the more intense
my touch, the more she seemed to hurt. She let out a wild moan that became
a scream, doubling over, and I had no choice but to let go. Her form grew
smaller and smaller, at last dissolving into dancing red blobs behind my
eyelids as I woke.
I screamed a scream none in the castle had heard as I destroyed a nearby
table with brute force, cutting all sounds of chanting short. I did not wait
for them to continue as I stormed upstairs, lifting beasts who happened to
obstruct my path by the neck and throwing them aside like dolls as I made
my way to the castle gates.
My Anger
At first I wandered aimlessly, keeping quiet note that Ozzie was following
me without making him aware that his bumbling had given it away. I stormed
through the cave and came out through the cliff side before stopping to rest.
I drifted back into a dark, dreamless twilight before jerking awake at the
onset of a storm and continuing on my way. I relieved traveling peasants
of their food, frightening them away and sometimes doing an injury or three.
"Leave me be, lizard, or crawl where I can see you." I announced to his shadow
the next evening as I sat atop a rainy hill.
"Sir Magus," Even Ozzie had taken to the meek intonation by now, and his
voice was unusually sober. "A leader of war does not leave his army to rot
at the beck and call of bad mood. Return with me, lest you take in too much
rain."
"Is that all you have to say?" I growled. "In that case, leave me be. I will
return when it suits me. My pain needs the sky as witness."
"Your pain can be alleviated! You think me a fool, but I know the onset of
anger when I see it. I might be able to lead us to the answer to all your
problems, my liege."
Lightning cracked the sky overhead, followed a second later by the accompanying
thunder as the rain continued to hammer the soft ground, finding purchase
in my hair. "Speak, then." I spat.
"There is a legendary sword. The Masamune. With it, it is said a single soldier
may level kingdoms at his feet as if they were lumps of sand on a beach."
A spark of hope began to mix in with, though not replace, my hatred that
had become as aimless as my wandering. I wanted nothing more than to destroy
something, perhaps many things, and I had read of this sword in my sleepless
studying. "I have heard of it. A sword formed by the souls of two brothers
of an ancient race. It feeds and is fed by the emotions of its bearer. If
I read that correctly, this sounds like a weapon that could destroy me. Why
should I want it?"
"It could never destroy you, Sir Magus. Never you. Your anger is such that
it would only make it a weapon of that much greater power, and help you achieve
victory for us. It lies in a cave atop the Denadoro mountains, which are
close by. Come, I will lead us to it."
Though my better judgment went against this, screaming silently that Ozzie
was a fool and knew not the first thing about the magics involved in this
weapon, I let my emotions decide for me. "So you shall." I answered with
resigned conviction, standing up and shaking some of the small puddles from
me. "This had better work toward my interests. Lead, then."
We reached the Denadoro Mountains after another half-night and began the
climb. It was long and aggravating, and we left more than a few charred skeletons
of various creatures that lacked the intelligence to differentiate between
us and a fresh, compliant meal. Just as we approached the cave that seemed
to fit Ozzies descriptions, my relief ran short. My blood heated with
fury as I spotted two humanoid shapes walking just outside the cave, near
the cliffs edge. I did not welcome interference now, particularly not
that of humans.
"Hhumans!" Ozzie shrieked in a whisper.
"Very perceptive." I answered snidely, walking toward them. They seemed to
be soldiers of the same order that had tried to seize our castle; one was
my age or slightly younger, the other seeming perhaps two or three years
my senior. They had been talking, though I had not heard any of what they
were saying, nor did I care. My eyes were only on an oddly shaped, strong-looking
blade they carried, each by a hand. I knew what it was, and my fury surged;
I had marked it as my property many hours ago, and I would have it no matter
the cost.
When they took note of us, they froze. The older ones brow creased,
and a hand reached for his blade.
"I wouldnt try that, if I were you. Im not in a good mood." I
growled at them.
"Look!" Ozzie shouted, pointing to the strange-looking blade they held between
them. "Its the"
"I know what it is." I answered menacingly, raising an eyebrow to the humans.
"Well? You arent going to just hand me my rightful property and give
me no reason to spill blood, are you? By all means, if you intend to strike
the great Magus, give me your best shot!" I spread my arms, indicating that
I would not move.
The younger soldier started to rush me, but his slightly older companion
held him back. "Beware, Glenn!" He shouted as he dropped his end of the Masamune
and drew his own weapon. Ozzie and I shared a laugh at those unbelievably
pathetic two words. My blood began to boil with anticipation of using some
of my anger to punish these fools for their insolence.
Finally, the older one charged and attacked me. I drew my scythe in a blink,
and his strength surprised me as our weapons bit into each other. This only
made me angrier, more so when the tip of his weapon came close to my face.
I released everything I had built up, turning his blade away and slicing
cleanly through his mail and across his hip to his shoulder. A spray of blood
splashed as he was sent spinning to the ground beside the other quivering
youth. He lacked the strength to rise, though he was making a petty attempt,
and as I watched him squirm from the wound, the need for me to damage or
destroy was satiated. He was all but helpless, and would most likely be
weaponless for a time.
Ozzie, however, was not finished. I watched in surprise as he gestured forward
and set the wounded soldiers body aflame. It was one of the few times
I had seen him use his own magic, and though I was slightly put off that
he would murder a defeated and helpless opponent for no reason, I pushed
the distaste away and turned to the unfortunate soldiers companion.
"Well? Try your luck, kid?" Ozzie taunted.
"Er
!" The youth stammered as he tried to lift the Masamune, looking
at me with naked hate in his dull, stupid brown eyes. "Er . . . er . . ."
"I think hes trying to say something." I whispered mockingly.
"Yes, yes youre right! Ozzie rubbed his hands together. "Yet, it sounds
distinctly inhuman, dont you think? Oooh, why not give him a
more fitting form?" He ended his sentence with the tone of a goose-bumped
elderly fool talking excitedly about ideas for gifts.
For the first time in months, I smiled. It had been too long since I had
used this power, and it would make almost as delicious a treat for me as
it would for Ozzie. I thought of the first time Flea had used his power on
me, transforming me into that despicable frog. I had developed a pathological
hatred of frogs since that day.
Gathering my will and that hated image, I gestured at the youth and worked
my magic. His form became enveloped in the swirl of colors as he cringed,
his form changing before my eyes. To our deep regret, he tumbled off the
cliff, taking the Masamune with him, before the morph was complete.
I stood there for a long moment, cooling. "It serves the fools right." I
said under my breath.
"Come, my liege!" Ozzie was screaming happily. "Surely the creature did not
survive the fall. Let us retrieve the Masamune from his carcass, and bring
it back as part of our feast tonight."
"They toyed with things beyond their control," I continued to no one in
particular.
"Sir Magus?"
"Yes . . ." the image of the first youth burning, and the second falling
over the cliff repeated in my mind. For a few moments longer, I saw only
that. Did I need to bask in what I had done that terribly? Or could I not
let them go from my mind for another reason? "Hmph. They challenged us. What
could they have expected but the clean death from loss to a superior opponent?
It is the order of things, is it not?"
"Sir Magus!"
My mind snapped back to the present. "Yes, Ozzie. Come. Forget the Masamune,
it could not have remained intact from that fall. Something about it looked
wrong, anyhow."
"What?! Sir Magus
!" He whined, sounding even more like an upset
overstuffed grandmother than usual.
"Shut up! Were going home, and that is absolute."
The failure to obtain the Masamune did not bother me as much as I expected
as we walked home. Some of my anger had abated, though I felt only an emptiness
in its place. An irrational concern surfaced in my mind. What if we had been
seen, and the deaths of those two soldiers had been traced to us? What if
their comrades would amass and chase after us in revenge? Would I have the
experience to fend them off, with our army as it was?
That night, I had an odd dream that the youth I had transformed and forced
off the cliff had survived, and cried my name in anger and fury. The scenery
then faded to an old memory, one that had been lost until now; the memory
of my mother submerging me in strangely tainted waters at birth, marking
me for the same power that had emptied her soul. I watched, and I heard a
name repeated at decided intervals of the chanting, over and over.
Lavos.
For only a moment, I saw this creature as I knew none had seen it. I saw
what lie beyond the name. I saw a glimpse of Schala, lost and trapped and
full of sorrow as she had been the other night. I saw the virus that had
invaded the very roots of my life and climbed upward, ravaging and consuming
and destroying as I had destroyed that day. I saw what I had been, and what
I had become.
I had put a name to my enemy, and witnessed how it cheated time. I was ready
to continue my work, to free my sister and reclaim what I had lost.