Blue Eyes

He awoke to the smell of fresh coffee dripping in the kitchen. The morning routine had become so ingrained no other alarm was needed. Starting another Monday, another week of work.

Rascal the chocolate lab looked up sleepily and headed toward the side door. After letting her out, Harris poured a cup of coffee and settled on the front porch to watch the sunrise. No matter how many times he had witnessed it, the majesty never failed to amaze him. Boy hood dreams of being an astronaut or an explorer gave way to the realities of life. Working class family created a working class young man. Growing up in the greater Midwest, Harris knew horses and cattle. In his few years working the Crooked ‘H’ ranch he was already a manager. Saving his wages, he hoped to someday have a small ranch of his own but in the back of his mind he knew it was a far-gone dream. Times had changed too much. The world was moving on.

Rascal returned to the front, seeming more awake and eager to start her day. Harris stood and was about to go into the small cabin and prepare breakfast when a robin landed a few feet from him. Sitting on the handrail, blinking, it looked at him sideways.

“Things are not always what they seem.” An unfamiliar voice resonated in his head.

Turning to look more closely at the bird, Harris squinted against the sharp morning sun. The bird’s head jerked right then left. It’s dark black eye met Harris’ and turned blue. Harris’ breathing froze in his chest. This can’t be real, he thought.

“Pay attention to what you see and hear, things are not what they seem. Things will change but only if you help them,” echoed in Harris’ head. Flutter of movement and the robin was gone.

Looking down at Rascal, Harris asked, “Did you see that, girl?”

The lab’s eyes went from Harris to where the bird had been, and she let out a single curt bark. “Thought so” Harris answered and together they went inside, Harris mumbling what he had heard to himself.

 

The fifty-minute drive to the crooked ‘H’ was uneventful.   Another busy morning setting up for the tourist season in the spring and summer was a routine that seemed to flow along. Harris found himself heading into town for supplies and lunch.

Sitting at the counter eating, Harris heard a voice that seemed to glide through the collective chatter in the diner, the sound both familiar yet unknown. Turning to find the source he could only catch a glimpse of the young lady, the back of her head, neat, straight sandy brown hair.

“Surprising how I do remember this place,” she was telling the girl behind the counter. “That ‘back home’ smell and I don’t know the feel of it, just so comfortable. Thanks.”

Something about the voice touched him. Stepping away from the counter, weaving through other customers moving toward this siren song, he heard the door close and the sound that had caught his attention was gone.   Harris looked toward the young girl at the counter but she had already moved on to another customer. He headed out of the diner and scanned up and down the street but could not find the woman.

Heading to his truck, Harris dismissed the incident as an overactive imagination. After the odd start to the morning he needed to get some rest. Time to drop off supplies and head on home.

Driving in silence, one hand on the wheel the other gently scratching Rascal behind her ear, Harris spied a vehicle pulled to the side of the road. ‘A smaller car, probably a tourist.’ he thought as he came to a stop a short distance behind the vehicle. Rascal announced their arrival with a bark and jumped from the bed of the pick up and stood by his driver’s side door. Harris stepped out, staring intently at the vehicle. This was an odd spot to be stuck there wasn’t a lot of traffic on this road. Not much in the way of cell phone towers in this part of the country.

“Hello there? You need a hand?” he asked as he approached the driver’s door.

“Thanks so much. I don’t know what happened; the car just stopped. I know I have gas. Just plain old shut down on me.” That voice, the voice from the diner, Harris thought as his heart skipped a few beats. He stopped where he was letting his eyes take her in. As the door opened, an athletic woman climbed out, small hands still working the buttons her phone, her straight sandy brown hair hiding her face and draping her shoulders. Finally she looked up to meet his gaze, hazel eyes searching his face, high round cheekbones, accenting a warm smile and unusually thick eyebrows that added a sense of intelligence to her face. All of this left Harris feeling exposed on the open road.

There was something familiar about her movements and her face. Harris searched the recesses of his mind to place where he had seen her before but came up blank. Rascal, the wiser, walked up to their newfound friend, tail wagging, sniffing, inspecting. The girl began to pet Rascal’s head as she looked up and brushed the hair from her face.   Harris’ breath caught. He knew her somehow.

“My name is Harris, can I lend you a hand? We don’t get much traffic on this road so you could be out here a while.”

“ Hi, I’m Julia. Julia Craven, I was born near here. I kind of grew up here, well till I was six. We moved back East and well I just wanted to see the place I was born in. That’s silly right? Well just something I feel like I had to do.” Standing with her right hand extended, she added, “Um, hello? You feeling Ok?”

Harris started to breathe again. Touching her hand he felt a sting of electricity shoot up his arm. Being scared and excited all at once was foreign to him, “Not as weird as what I’m going to ask you. Where did you grow up? Around here I mean?”

“Oh some small place, I think we were part of a small ranch or something, here’s the address.” Handing him the paper she searched his face again.

He stared with a jolt of recognition. “This is the plot next to mine. When I was small there was another home just a few acres away. After the family there left my old man bought the property. Been empty since. I think we used to know each other.”

Rascal barked and began circling the two. They stood there staring at each other. Not sure what to say a certain feeling rested in the air, not tension but a wave of calm seemed to blanket them. Harris noticed a robin sitting on the top of he rental. He knew the bird was not there before. Locking eyes with Harris the unlikely observer took flight.

“Um, well, this is really weird maybe I should try my car again.” A puzzled expression on her face, Julia sat back behind the drivers seat and started the rental.

Before she could speak again, Harris did.

“Why don’t you just follow me? Your gps will show you, I’m not trying to trick you or anything.” Forcing a smile, he nodded and headed back to his truck. Rascal jumped in, tail wagging in excitement. Harris scratched her behind the ears, “Oh chill out. It can’t be her I mean what are the odds.”

 

 

During the ride home Harris remembered. His mind faded back to the little girl next door that he played with. She was a few years younger but being the only neighbors within walking distance, the children grew together for a half dozen years. He was always amazed at her eyes and how she seemed to be able to read him. He remembered how cute and small her hands were but that never stopped her from climbing or building the small bird houses they would set out in the winter.

Slowly the two vehicles pulled into the gravel driveway. They stepped out, their eyes met, and Harris was certain she was his former neighbor, the same glint was there in her eyes. Together they walked toward the abandoned property. Julia began to expose her short history.

She had lived on the east coast and both her parents had passed away in separate accidents, her father on a motorcycle and her mother with a slip on ice. A lost history disappeared in a flash being replaced by a long lost friend. The two returned to town and settled in for dinner.   Together they moved as one. Conversation flowed freely. Lost souls united through time. Later, leaving Julia outside her hotel Harris felt warm and at peace with himself. He drove home and settled in for the night.

Waking up the next morning with Julia on his mind, Harris picked up his cell phone. The date was still Monday on the phone, but he knew that couldn’t be right. Flipping on the morning news channel he looked to the lower right of the screen, Monday 6:35am. No, something didn’t feel right.

Looking out a window to his right he saw a blue-eyed robin staring in at him from the roof of his truck. Harris rushed for the door and as he crashed through the small bird took flight. Rascal just sat back, tail low, waiting for what would come next. Heading back inside, Harris called the hotel where he dropped Julia last night. No one named Julia Craven was registered there.

Logging on the computer, Harris opened his Internet browser and searched for her. Finding a webpage with her name, he opened the link.

“Finding a match: My name is Julia Craven and I am searching for bone marrow match. ………”

Eyes burning into the computer monitor he read frantically. Leaning back heavily in his seat, he realized he had decisions to make.   After feeding Rascal he headed to the local hospital. Harris had questions that he needed answered before making any decisions. Finding a parking space he walked to the entrance of the cancer department, while outside the doors a robin sat watching.

 

 

Several weeks passed. Harris’ phone began to sing. Looking down he didn’t recognize the number but answered just the same.

“Hello?” he said, expecting a wrong number.

“Um, hello, is this Harris Carmichale?” a gentle female voice inquired.

The subdued but silky sound sent a shiver through his body. Harris didn’t need to ask but felt he had to.

“Yes, may I ask who this is?”

“My name is Julia Craven. I am just so grateful to actually talk to you. I mean I know I’m not supposed to know who you are but I was able to persuade some people to get me your information.” Silence but Harris thought he could hear her choking back tears. The world before him had gotten blurry on its own just at hearing her voice. “You, you are saving me. I couldn’t believe the town you are in. I grew up near there actually. I would like to fly out there next week and meet you. If that would be OK?”

Swallowing hard he answered, “It would be my pleasure to meet you Julia Craven.”

Together, miles apart, they shared their first smile together after many years.

Julia looked outside the window of her second floor apartment and saw a most curious thing, a blue-eyed robin looking in at her. That can’t be right, she thought. Birds have beaks, they can’t smile.

 

 

Who Are You Now?

Who are you now?

Nervous thoughts picking behind green eyes.

Sleep a distant friend, long lost but not forgotten.

Lying on your side, his arms wrapped around you.

His skin feels cold almost alien now.

What have you done?

Decisions made in haste and anger.

Bile sits in the back of your throat, hot and burning.

Blinking into the darkness you can see your soul.

Here with him yet still alone in your sadness.

Pulling the bed sheets close, biting your lower lip.

The iron taste brings little relief and you retreat.

What have you become?

Dew kissing bare feet

Pale skin glowing in the waning moon light.

Crisp air filling your lungs, tickling skin.

Thoughts stirring emotion, drawing out tears for no one to see.

Arms crossed, head low, gliding through the dying night.

Who will you be?

When virgin sunshine brushes your hair.

When the day’s chores roll on.

The light casts away fears and doubts.

Everything else is forgotten.

Once the sun retreats, and the moon rules.

Who are you now?

Writing

There will be more writing coming soon.  I have several things going at once.  A few of the little buggers ahve run off and are playing hide and seek.  A group of incomplete poems and some shorts.  Not that you are chomping at the bit as there is a lot out there to absorb.  Just letting you all know I appreciste the follows and have more to write.

Thanks!!

The Forgotten

There he stood silently in the corner. His thin frame cast in shadows, wrinkled clothes hanging loosely from his hips and shoulders. His hand squeezed tightly on the silver top of his cane. He felt strong today and didn’t think he really needed it for balance, but just having it kept his children quiet. While physically he was there, his mind, his soul felt miles away. Perhaps it was denial.

Quietly he stood and watched, powerless as family and their friends moved like ants around his home. The home that seemed so large and empty just moments ago felt crowded.   The air was teeming with clouds of dust and memories long forgotten. Swirling specks touched by sunlight followed each person as if trying to pull them and their items back. No rest would be found here. Not now. Not as the long sitting furniture was heaved from its spot and placed in the oversized box truck in the driveway.

Some items would be kept if deemed necessary. One child had taken the lead. She became judge and executioner for children’s shoes, games, books, and pictures. Lost in the act of the move were all the sentiments and emotion once stored in cigar boxes and closets. Gone would be the periodic adventure, the search for nothing in particular through an abandoned bedroom. The treasure of a thousand memories, babies crying, siblings laughing, lifted away in bags and cleansed with Lysol. The first time he saw his wife standing over a crib, wiped with the overwhelming smell of pine.

Still he stood silently in the shadowed corner of his home, his home from once upon a time.   Standing in a corner once graced with a Christmas tree and modest presents. The image of eager young faces coming down the steps. Replaced with boisterous adults carrying packages of his past. It was only now he felt the warm trickle on his cheek. Forgetting himself he though she had kissed him, then reality punched him in the heart again. She had passed and this is the now. With an open hand he wiped away the dampness from his cheeks and eyes.

Watching the stairs he remembered his daughter coming down those stairs on her third birthday. Hair in curls lazily bouncing on her shoulders; oversized red sunglasses wearing her Dorothy dress, smiling. With a blink, she was eighteen and coming down in a fantastic blue prom dress. Same blond curls bouncing with a hint of red dyed on the tip. No sunglasses, but the smile was just as radiant. The world was full of color then. Everything seemed to matter.

A gentle pat on his shoulder broke his revelry. The slight smile that kissed his lips faded. The room was grays and browns, shadows and sun streaks. He was alone with his daughter and the house was suddenly big again. Trails of dust slowly falling in defeat floating without hope toward the open door.

“Time to go Dad.” She said in a whisper. “You’ll be happy there. Some of your old friends live there already I think. More people your age to hang with.” Her hand trailed down his arm and clasped his. He remembered taking so many morning walks, holding that little hand. Each day a grand adventure. Running at the park or climbing some rocks, walking along the edge of a stonewall. Discovering spider webs and fireflies. And she began to lead him to the door. How the roles have changed.

There was a time before all this. A time when running high school track was important. A time spent over seas defending his country, his life. In the past he was looked too for guidance, giving instruction to co-workers. He had run a business and demanded respect. Now he was just another used up man with a cane. History discarded and placed away to ‘live’ in comfort.

Lifting his head he walked on his own following her out of the house he built. Pulling the door closed behind him he memorized once again the steady creek of those old hinges. The strong and defiant click of the lock. Without making eye contact he handed her the keys and shuffled away to the waiting car.

There he stood silently in the corner. Fluorescent lights casting a cold pale light on the remnants left of his past. All he had done, all he would ever do, reduced to a few simple paragraphs, words forgotten as they were read. Still he stood, pressing warm palms to damp cheeks.

Unknown (wip)

He sat high above the ground, feet dangling loosely. Looking over the small park back to ward his neighborhood. This was the first time in three years he had been back here. He tried to visit this place but couldn’t find the courage. Now here he was again sitting in what used to be his favorite spot, or rather their favorite spot. While sitting he felt so alone and small, memories of the past brought the touch of a smile to him. Feelings and memories wrestled with the now. How should he be, happy, complacent, depressed?

The trip through murky memories and confused feeling started three years ago. Today, today he felt like he was thrown into the deep end in the dark and everything else, all the past belonged to someone else. This was a new day and things were different.

He remembered last night, the dream or rather dreams that wouldn’t release him. He was with her again. They were still friends. Together, like thousands of times before, they walked to the park. As a team they solved puzzles and played games. She sat with him and they talked, and laughed, and shared. The dreams were all too real and at the same time he knew, he knew that things had changed. He didn’t want to wake up. Then it happened. In the midst of sitting in the tree, their tree, she looked at him and said “I’m just here you know. Things are still the same.” He was speechless.

Waking he snatched his phone from the nightstand. Ready to call and talk to her again, he wanted to share his dream. Then reality’s cold fingers gave his heart a little squeeze. The nights smile washed away and he knew he couldn’t call her. The dreams stayed vivid and strong, almost too strong to accept they weren’t real. Before the sun kissed the horizon, he pulled on his jeans, forced his bare feet into the closest pair of shoes, grabbed a sweatshirt and headed out the door. He left his phone on bed behind him and began to run. He ran for the tree, their tree.

Braagh

            She missed doing this.  Laying on her back in the grass.  The sensations brought back such strong memories for her.  The slight breeze mingled around her bare feet, tickling her toes ever so slightly.  The cold blades of grass pushing against the bare skin of her legs, arms, shoulders and neck sent tingling waves to her core.  She belonged here with the earth.  Breathing deeply she took it all in and let the memories flow like tears long withheld.  She remembered running, barefoot playing tag, the joy and laughter of the chase.  She thought back to days of slaying imaginary dragons and hunting make believe monsters.  Raising one hand she wiped away tears.  She was glad she was here alone where no one could see her.  The world had moved on making the monsters of today all too real.  ‘Which face will I wear today?’ she asked herself.  A robin fluttered down, landing a few feet from her face.

            She turned her head slowly to look at the wild bird.  Grass tickled her cheek as she pressed to look.  The robin stood there staring at her, blinking.  Her breath caught when she made eye contact.  The small bird looking at her gave off no sense of fear but instead a feeling of knowing.  This bird had deep blue eyes.  With a final blink the bird was gone, lifting into the air and to the trees.

            “Aliese.  Aliese where are you?  We need to get started.” Her mother’s voice called from the back porch.  Slowly she sat up, brushed herself off and began to walk toward the house.  Time to prepare for whatever father brought home.  He had been gone longer this time.  Away hunting for five days gave cause for alarm.  Mother knew he was returning because of the crow.  Aliese’s father had a pet crow that followed him everywhere.  This morning the mangy black bird sat on the windowsill casting his long shadow with this mornings light.  Mother was happy, excited and extremely relieved.

#

            Father burst in the house, slamming the door behind him.  Panic oozed from his pores, eyes shifting.  “We must go.  Pack your things we are going to the city, now.  Move you two we have no time.”  Aliese and her mother stood side-by-side staring in wonder.

            “Where is the meat? Anish what are you saying?”

            Anish sprang from the door and grabbed his wife by the upper arms.  Eyes wide he began shouting. “It is coming!  Baagh wants it’s kill and is coming for me! We must go now!”

            Medha’s eye locked on her husband’s.  Her eyes becoming soft seemed to touch his very soul.  “Calm, please slow down and tell us what has happened.  Baagh has not been seen here is thirty years.  Tell me, tell me your tale.”

            Anish sat heavily at the table, wide eyes staring at nothing and he began to speak.  “I was hunting from my favorite tree just five miles east in the borderlands of the jungle.  A snake had taken residence in my hunting nest, which made for a fine meal.  I waited and as expected a good-sized deer wandered in line for a good shot.  I drew back my bow and set an arrow on its way.  The deer ran a few yards before dropping, all as usual.  Then as I began to dress the beast to bring it back I heard some snapping in the brush behind me.  I drew another arrow and turned slowly and there it was.  Braagh.  At first I only saw the blue eyes moving slowly toward me through the leaves and bushes.  His striped face hidden so well.  He licked his lips and nose as he broke into the clearing.  It was like he just ‘appeared’ there and bared his teeth, hissed a warning and stepped toward my kill.  I just walked quietly away and gave it over to him. But then, then,…”

            “It’s Ok dad, you’re home now.” Aliese said.  Her father looked up at her now as if seeing her for the first time.  His head began shaking side to side.

            “No. You don’t understand.  Braagh followed me to the hut.  Then he went back to the kill and dragged it so he could watch me as he ate. Eventually the cat left and then I climbed down, but he didn’t really leave he was following me so I went deeper into the jungle.  Once I was in deep I climbed as high as I could.  I then tried to get out by moving in the trees.  After two days I thought I lost him but then when I reached the edge of the jungle there.  I saw some fur on the tree there.  Orange and black fur, he is here, he knows where I am and wants his kill.  We must go now.”

            Mother and daughter looked at each other.  Aliese opened the door and called for Callie the family dog.  No dog came.  A sparrow landed just feet away from her.  The tiny bird looked up, blinked twice and flew away.  Fear found a home in Aliese as she slowly closed the door.  “Get packing.” Her mother shouted from the next room.  ‘It’s too late’ Aliese thought as she opened a small closet and removed her own bow and quiver.   Three yards out the front door and she saw the tracks, the distinctive tracks of a large cat.  Her own foot fit easily inside one.  She knew the tracks were not there earlier. 

            The tracks circled the house.  Near the back Aliese found a faint trail of blood.  ‘Callie’ she thought ‘hope you put some bites in.’ Holding back tears and burying her fear she followed the blood and drag marks toward the old woodpile.  Slowly she drew back her bow and stepped around the heap of rotting wood.  There laid the half eaten corpse of her dog.  A single arrow set fly and took out two vultures, four others jumped to the top of the woodpile, wings flapping in protest.  Aliese looked around as she crept toward her lost friend.

            Against her parent’s instructions, Aliese buried Callie in the front yard.  Her parents were eager to go, knowing the stories of Braagh.  He was the king of all big cats some said.  Legends were told that once Braagh got your scent, there was no hiding. Stories of farmers went missing, hunters disappearing, all credit given to Braagh.  Aliese wanted her revenge.  She convinced her parents that one night would not make a difference.  They agreed to stay thinking it would be better to travel during daylight.

            Lying still in the earliest hours of the morning, sometime between three and four am, Aliese heard the gentle thump thump on the back roof.  She traced each step through the ceiling with her eyes.  Braagh was on the roof and looking for some way in.  Maybe he had done this before and scared his prey out for an easy kill?  Aliese looked at her parents, they were both sound asleep.  Quietly she stood, bow in hand, arrow ready to notch.  Staring at the shuttered window she waited, then a shadow broke the moonlight as Braagh leapt to the ground.  Aliese remembered how easily her own foot fit in the print left by the big cat earlier today.  Then her thoughts shifted to Callie, the blood, the buzzards and her fear turned to red-hot rage in her stomach.  Hand on the door she slowly opened it, letting in moonlight and fresh air.  ‘Nothing better than a full moon to hunt by’ she thought as she stepped out pulling the door closed behind her.

            She found the deep prints left where the cat came down from the roof.  Instinct told her he would go to Callie’s grave. Crouching low Aliese moved in that direction.  She stopped suddenly, ears piqued.  She heard breathing.  Turning she saw blue eyes staring down at her from the roof of her home.  The cat was lying there watching her. Frozen she just stared back, unsure of what to do next.  The moon was behind the cat making a shot difficult.  The two sat there staring, waiting for the inevitable.

            The first red light broke the still.  Braagh stood eyes fixed on Aliese.  Aliese took in a deep breath and held it raising the bow and drawing back at the same time.  Braagh’s ears went flat, tail tucked, legs drew under like springs.  A final show of teeth and all his energy was released forward.  Aliese and Braagh locked eyes her arrow let loose.   A thousand birds took flight into the morning sun.

Just a thought

To start I want to give a heart felt thank you to all that follow this blog.

Let me apologize in advance as I do not dedicate as much time as I should to any blogging.   I have far too many short stories and poems that have stalled.  They sit in limbo and are revisited weekly.  I want to give good stuff that goes somewhere and therefore fail to publish much.  I know that doesn’t matter to some, er most, it matters to me.  Quality before quantity I think.  Probably wrong on that but what the hell.

So I don’t always comment or like but I do make the effort to run through my follow list and check out what you are posting.  I am usually in awe.

Talent can be subjective. IMO I am surrounded by some of the most talented and unrecognized writers and photographers around.  I am humbled and greatly appreciative that you follow me.  I will try to post more and be more interactive in the very near future.   Stay creative and stay true to you!!!!

There He Stood

There he stood, silently in the corner.

Late afternoon sunlight cutting streams in the dust.

Silently he stood there watching as family, friends moved likes ants attending a picnic.

They moved moving furniture, clothes and dishes to the box truck parked in the driveway.

Chatting among themselves, joking and laughing.

Discarding old shoes and children’s games as they went.

There he stood silently in the corner of the house he built.

His home, once upon a time anyway.

He could still smell the pine of Christmas trees long since gone.

He could hear the cries of a newborn baby echoing in the hall.

He could still see children playing in the living room, sometimes fighting in the yard.

He remembered the time his daughter walked down on her own on her third birthday.

There she was again coming down for her prom.

“Time to go dad.” Came with a pat on the shoulder.

“You’ll be happy there, really.  More people your own age to relate to.”

Head held high he followed, like the shadow he now was.

A final click of the lock, handing over the keys.

There he stood in the corner.

Fluorescent lights cast a crisp cold glow on the remnants of his past.

WIP (no title yet) chp 2

2 The World of Man

Magmus and Celustrus stopped a few feet in front of the obelisk. He looked at his companion and didn’t have to say anything. She slipped off a small backpack and crouched down in front of it reaching inside. After rummaging for a few seconds she stopped moving and her hand closed around the crystal. Edges that appeared jagged felt smooth and cool in her hand. A glimmer of doubt flashed across her mind but was driven back by the thought of Magmus. She knew to the depths of her being that he would not let anything happen to her. While they were different of race and age, their souls shared a special connection. From her crouched position she looked up and smiled.

Magmus watched with some nervousness as Celustrus searched for the Raven’s crystal. He would much rather be alone for the task at hand but was grateful for the company. The thought of putting another in danger did not sit well with him. Celustrus had insisted on keeping the crystal for fear of Magmus going on alone. After what felt like an eternity she slowly looked up. At first her hazel eyes fixed him with her best stony stare, face devoid of emotion a few tendrils of hair dancing along the edges of her eyes. She could not contain herself however and that fabulous smile crept through. She stood with the crystal in her hand eyes locked on Magmus. The electricity of excitement radiated through the small clearing making it feel crowded. Celustrus deftly replaced the backpack as Magmus held out his hand for the crystal.
Behind the two on an oak tree to the east a pair of ravens landed, on a redwood tree to the west a pair of Robins also landed. The pair of birds gazed across the clearing and met each other’s gaze and then shifted their attention to the mismatched couple on the ground. The battles between the robin and the crow had long been settled; the differences between the leprechaun and the gnomes however were another matter. The lived basically tolerating one another in a fragile peace. But that is all for another time.

Celustrus extended her arm and placed her small hand gently into Magmus’. He gently closed his fingers noting the slight chill of her skin. Celustrus held out the crystal and Magmus reached, fingers grazing her skin as he began to mumble a barely audible series of clicks and clucks, short whistles and chirps. The crystal began to glow; a rune on the facing obelisk matched the crystal’s glow in color and intensity. Together the pair began to slowly approach the granite gateway. Celustrus’ grip tightening on his hand. The air surrounding them began to pull them toward the newly created opening. With a caw and flutter the ravens took flight directly over the head of Celustrus, silently the robins dropped from the tree and joined suit flying directly over the head of Magmus.

Suddenly the forest went silent. Standing alone in the small clearing was the granite obelisk. The gnome and leprechaun were gone. Vines began to crawl along its sides and face. In a matter of moments the forest that had given it birth reclaimed the obelisk. The only evidence of its existence was the pair of footprints leading into the clearing and disappearing where the obelisk once stood. One pair of booted feet alone a pair of gnome’s tracks. The adventure begins.

WIP (no title yet) Please comment

Chapter 1 A beginning

Magmus climbed out of the hole in his favorite tree and stretched. Squinting against the bright morning sun welcoming another beautiful day in the woods. Casually he strolled down to the river carrying his hat, vest and shirt, savoring the chill breeze on his lightly tanned skin. His deep brown eyes opened wide taking in the scene before him. Reaching up and rubbing his scarred forehead slicking back his sleep tossed hair. Scratching his cheek and rubbing his stony chin beneath a scraggly beard. Kneeling down he took a drink and began to splash his face with the cold river water. He noticed a shadow creeping up from over his right shoulder but before he could stand he felt a sharp kick in the rear. Headfirst Magmus fell into the shallow part of the river. Initial anger flared in his eyes, his muscles tensed, hands balled into fists, jaw clenched tightly he jumped to a standing position ready to do some hurting to the fool that kicked him. He eyes focused on a yellow haired gnome standing on the bank laughing without reserve. His anger was immediately subdued at the sight of his friend.

He found it more and more difficult to get or even remain angry with his yellow haired friend. There she stood laughing at the chaos she had caused. Her bushy eyebrows furrowed together as she squinted in laughter hiding her hazel eyes. Her smile, as broad as the horizon, pushing up chipmunk cheeks. Magmus thought, “She would make a better leprechaun than me any day.’ And he began to trudge out of the water. Looking at her standing there laughing, eyes in slits, smile radiating a certain inner joy at her exploit. Her floppy green cap draped graciously to the side, Brown shirt, and sleeves pulled up to her forearms buttoned halfway. Hands placed triumphantly on her hips thumbs hooked in her belt. Her canvas backpack hanging lazily off her left shoulder. No shoes, she hated shoes.

“Good morning to you too.” Magmus grumbled, feinting his anger allowing her to further enjoy the moment.

Celustrus, the yellow haired gnome, answered between chuckles, “It is now.” and continued laughing.

Drying off and shaking his head, Magmus pulled on his shirt and vest, flopped his hat on his head as he started toward a small path at the edge of the woods. The fairies were just rising from their nests and began darting around. Magmus was paying them no mind, he had some investigating to do today.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Celustrus snapped into step beside Magmus. “So today is the day.” She could hardly contain her excitement.

Magmus often crossed into the world of men, usually alone. Most woodland creatures felt this was too dangerous. Those that did adventure across usually did it at night when there would be little chance of being seen. “So we are really gonna do this?” he asked. This question stopped Magmus and he turned to look at her sensing the hint of nervousness in her voice.

Magmus started, “Yes I am doing this. What is this we thing? Gnomes never cross over during the day.” He stared directly into her eyes, she was trying hard to hide whatever thoughts would be lingering there.

Celustrus broke the stare and looked down sheepishly, “I thought you might want some company. I think it could be fun and I think I am better at hiding than you.”

Magmus snorted, “Humph. Company always, hiding I don’t know.”

He started toward the path again Celustrus by his side smiling. They turned sharply off the path and after several hundred yards came upon a black granite obelisk with ancient runes scratched into the sides. Neither Magmus nor Celustrus could read them. Legend held that the raven clan had made the runes long before they took to flight. The stone and language were much older than either adventurer. Magmus came to this information by ‘discussing’ old magic over grog with one of the Leprechaun elders last summer. He then spent the better part of the last six months searching for the proper crystals to use to activate the stone. A special translucent red crystal with faint grey chips throughout came into his possession. Most interesting was when the stone was held at a certain angle in the sunlight the shape of a raven flying could just be seen inside the stone. All of this was necessary to cross into the land of men using the obelisk. Some creatures could cross whenever they wanted, for certain creatures there were lunar cycles and such to consider. The obelisk however would allow Magmus to cross whenever he wanted. To the anger and fear of Celustrus he tried it the other day going alone, luckily he made it back. Now, he decided, they would go through together.