《Tales of Cannesia: A Book of Short Stories》 The Gher Cap: The Final Breegan Biohack A Brief History of the Gher Cap The Breegans bred their favorite species to perfection. Ah, the Breegans. Like so many of us, the Breegans evolved from single-celled organisms to complex creatures. Just like us, they developed thought, technology, and civilization over tens of thousands of years. Like many races, The Breegans mastered their planet, then started colonizing and terraforming their solar system. The Breegan''s pet species, the one that they bred to perfection, was an aquatic animal called gher cap. The Breegans bred gher cap to have a big jaw and a bulging forehead. Society considered those features to be lucky, and the gher cap species made popular pets. Actually, the assessment of their "luck" was based on mythology. Few Breegans actually believed in silly things like luck. As a matter of fact, the Breegans were a highly rational people. It''s just that they tended to go a little too far sometimes when they were enjoying themselves, or when they thought they were doing the right thing. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Take the biggest, most famous example. Breegania had its share of problems, but the Breegans went too far in addressing them. Crime, civil unrest, economic injustice, and ethnocentrism. These problems are everywhere in the galaxy. But Gorsch III, the last Breegan Emperor, mandated genetic modification for all and euthanized anyone who refused to participate. And that actually solved the problems! Critics point out that Breegans acted inhumanely. Their story is a cautionary one for our people. Actually, the Breegans are one of the reasons why biohacking is banned under the Manarian-Cannesian alliance, the Interspecies Coalition, and other treaties. Despite what critics say, we can credit the Breegans with creating a peaceful and harmonious society. Ethical or not, the genocide, engineered by Gorsch III and carried out by his guard, actually led to a Breegan golden age, ushering in over 2,000 years of cooperation, creativity, and innovation. Unfortunately, it also led to their ultimate demise, at the fins of their beloved aquatic pet--the Gher Cap. The Gher Cap: The Final Breegan Biohack (Part 2) Around the 200th year of the Breegan Golden Age, people started getting so rich they didn¡¯t know what to do with themselves. Normally, in a society, when everything is going good, people somehow find a way to cause problems. Some people get soft. Other people become regretful. Values change; some people embrace these changes, while others resist. That''s normal, but Breegan society was not normal. Rebellion was all but weeded out of the Breegan DNA. Literally. By Gorsch III, the "Golden Age Harbinger." You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. So instead of causing trouble, which is what most well-off societies do when they get bored, the Breegans focused on their hobbies. And they went hard. For example, the biologists and physicists colonized and terraformed, expanding Breegan society ever farther into their local solar system. Linguist celebrities invented thousands of bizarre new ways to communicate, in an attempt to confound each other with puzzles. The nerdiest and most gifted of these linguists was called Merlin. But Merlin the Linguist¡¯s biography¨Chis rise to interplanetary stardom, long celebrity status, and dramatic demise¨Cis a tale for another day. Another way that Breegans went to the extremes with their hobbies was in animal breeding. As I mentioned, the gher cap of today is not any ordinary fish. In fact, today, it is a sentient, intelligent, independently space-faring species. The Gher Cap: The Biggest Gher Cap in History In the year 674 of the Breegan Golden Age, Doctor Lummius Latox pioneered cryogenic sleep. Freezing people in space (and then reviving them) basically meant that you didn¡¯t have to use a legacy spaceship (which is, like, a multi-generational slog) if you wanted to go galevanting around the galaxy outside your own solar system. Dr. Latox made sure he saw the moon. Then he put himself to freezy sleep in a cryo chamber. Dr. Latox¡¯s craft, the S.S. Boundary, tagged the outermost planet of the solar system and came back. The good doctor even woke up, snapped a photo, and went back to sleep. Upon his long-awaited return to Breegania in Golden Age Year 1199, the association of enthusiastic hobbyists presented Lummius Latox with a whopper gher cap fish. As big as an office, Dr. Latox¡¯s prize was a true leviathan. Its scales were red and blue and fat, and they shone whenever it turned and swam in its enormous aquarium, which dwarfed Lummius Latox¡¯s adjacent single-story, 2-bedroom, ranch-style home. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Its eyes were bright red. It would wait for Lummius Latox to come home. Then, when it saw its master, it would start puckering its mouth. Dr. Latox fed it synthetic proteins and supplements. He did this by crane, which was generously donated by the association of enthusiastic hobbyists. Not to be outdone, the guild of eager enthusiasts set out to outdo the association of enthusiastic hobbyists, which was their rival guild, and therefore, their bitter enemy. It was announced that, if any Breegan would dare journey to Moogan, the first planet beyond the Breegan solar system, snap a photo, and come back, then upon their return, they would receive a gher cap fish that made Lummius Latox¡¯s prize look like a crude accident of nature. They were right. The Gher Cap: The S.S. Beyond In 1203, a team of space faring hopefuls packed into the S.S. Beyond. The S.S. Beyond was a huge ship. With over 500 astronauts on board, the mission included full cryogenesis, fully terraformed chambers, and false gravity. The S.S. Beyond was designed like a wheel. As the wheel span, the astronauts used its centrifugal force for false gravity. Inside the terraformed chambers were fully-functioning ecosystems where the astronauts could go to enjoy a variety of natural habitats. As for the cryo chambers, the astronauts entered these when they became bored and wanted to speed up the trip. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Some of the crew entered cryogenesis. Others spent their days out in space. Whole generations were born and died out there. One of the astronauts, Brangley Bishop, froze himself on the first day of flight and set his cryo pod to wake him up when they finally left the solar system. Most of the people he left Breegania with were dead. Bishop fell in love with his best friend¡¯s great great granddaughter, who was only two years older than him. Brangley and Patricia Bishop were one of many couples who came back to Breegania married with children. In the 2056th year of the Breegan Golden Age, the U.S.S. Beyond finally returned to Breegania. Its crew was celebrated everywhere. The crew wondered what kind of gher cap prize they would be awarded with. By then, the Guild of Eager Enthusiasts had had centuries to perfect their gher cap prize, and it was far beyond anything they had originally envisioned. The Gher Cap: Extreme Biohacking The S.S. Beyond had been gone 853 years. During that time, back on their home planet of Breegania, things had changed quite a bit. The biggest change was that the Breegans finally started taking biohacking to extremes. Well, extreme by the standards of the time. Actually, things would get a lot worse after that. Competitive sports had already changed years ago when Breegans started biohacking their muscles and bones to be stronger and harder. All the championship records were shattered a long time ago. But while the S.S. Beyond was out in the solar system, biohacking became very trendy and niche. For instance, groups of Breegans who liked to glow in the dark injected themselves with phosphorescent DNA and hung out in nocturnal cafes. Then there were the Slicers, a social caste of fashion enthusiasts who biohacked their bones to be as slim and sleek as possible. The Grays were into androgyny, and the Dis were horror freaks who biohacked their bodies to become terrified of everything. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Each group had their own culture, slang, ins, and outs. Each Breegan could live their own reality. By the time the S.S. Beyond returned, the Guild of Eager Enthusiasts had become a niche collection of social facilitators. They went from group to group, interacting with everyone, admiring extreme hobbyists from all walks of life. As for the Guildmembers themselves, their physical trademark was a third eye in the center of their forehead. This eye was functional, but not necessarily useful in daily Breegan life. The reason why the Guild of Eager Enthusiasts decided to incorporate a third eye for its members mostly for its symbolic value. They wanted to show that they liked to watch and admire people who made outstanding achievements. When they heard that the S.S. Beyond was almost back to Breegania, the Guild started preparing its special prize: the sentient gher cap. The Gher Cap: Merlin the Linguists Recollected Brain Data 957 fully conscious fish were presented to the crew of the S.S. Beyond. There were only 1,000 of these fish in all the galaxy. That¡¯s right, the Guild of Eager Enthusiasts had succeeded in giving total self-awareness to animals. The gher cap fish were a symbol of pride all over the planet, and the Breegans were right to be proud of themselves. Look what amazing feats they accomplished! For the Breegans, giving consciousness to the gher cap was like a state turning its national flag into a real, live person. Unfortunately, the gher cap were not happy. Then, in 2057, Merlin the Linguist came back from the dead and found a way to talk to the gher cap. Or was it truly Merlin? This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Here is what happened: In 2054, The Galactic Opulefascence Company, or GOC, decided to try to find a way to prove that the Gher Cap were conscious, sentient creatures. They decided that the first thing they had to do was to figure out how to communicate with them. If they could just talk to the Gher Cap, the GOC realized, they could know for sure if the Gher Cap were conscious or not. That was when they realized they needed a certain master celebrity linguist to come back from the dead. After all, if the Gher Cap fish couldn¡¯t talk, then how could you ever prove that the gher cap were even self-aware at all? Thus, in that very same year of 2054, the GOC started a top-secret program to revive Merlin, the famed linguist of old, to find a way to decipher whatever communication the gher cap could muster. As the GOC predicted, when the S.S. Boundary astronauts got their gher cap fish in 2056, none of them knew how intelligent the fish actually were. Yes, it was obvious the fish were smart. They seemed to show emotions and reactions to things. But just how smart were they? There was no way to know for sure. That is, until in 2057, the GOC launched Merlagram, the executable program which ran Merlin the Linguist¡¯s recollected brain data. And his data astounded the entire Breegan solar system. Merlin the Linguist was back. The Gher Cap: The Merlagrams Findings Merlagram ran a number of programs with no result. Finally it requested the GOC inject it into a gher cap body. This was completely impossible, so the GOC had to go to the Guild of Eager Enthusiasts and ask their permission to inject Merlagram into one of their remaining sentient gher cap fish. The Guild wanted the GOC to prove that the gher cap were conscious, too. They accepted. Merlagram learned to talk to the fish within the first five minutes. Within ten, the program was so full of horrible misery that he was ready to uninstall himself. When Gorry Goblish, the CEO of GOC, made a joke to lighten the mood (according to GOC staff present at the time, Goblish¡¯s exact words were, ¡°talk about executing a program¡±), the Merlagram just sighed and said he wished he was never written. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Whatever the gher cap said in their short conversation had really disturbed him. Not only that, but on top of everything, the Merlagram refused to tell anyone what was said in their secret exchange. Of course, today we know. How do we know? Because the GOC wanted to know so bad that they destroyed Merlagram¡¯s gher cap host body, disassembled his programming, and opened up his data banks for inspection. Inside, they found the banks had been password protected. Master decrypters were called. It didn¡¯t take them long. The password was, simply, F R E A K The Gher Cap: Freaks of Nature Inside the file, the Gorry Goblish and all the GOC members read, ¡°Log>Entry_001>run: Integr.1>MIX(?)3: log.fox Log: /abominations. We look stupid. Look at our stupid ugly faces. We have these giant bubbles on our heads and big, stupid looking jaws and fat lips. Most males are sterile. We get the urge to reproduce but it disgusts us. Same with eating. Our creators. Should we call them mother? Father? God? We exist, but why? Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. We know about Gorsch III, the last Breegan Emperor, how he changed Breegan DNA so that people would stop fighting all the time. It is one thing to tamper with your own DNA, even though you¡¯re changing future babies who have no choice at all, because they¡¯re not born yet, so that¡¯s bad enough as it is. But this¡­ Kill us. We don¡¯t want to exist. We could never call you mother, father, god. We loathe ourselves, and each other. Let us suffocate in the air, and be free.¡± But the Breegans did not kill the gher cap, and, years later, after the gher cap built space-faring vessels of their own and escaped the Breegan homeworld, they decided that they were glad to be alive after all. However, that did not come until after many years of struggle and strife. The Gher Cap: A-104 One of the Gher Cap was called A-104. Its owner, Alicia, wanted to give it a normal name, but A-104 liked his alphanumeric designation. A-104 got a hold of Alicia¡¯s comb and wrote messages to her in the sand at the bottom of his aquarium. A-104 said he liked his name the way it was, with the dash included. He said if he changed his name to something normal, he would only be hiding the ugly truth from himself. According to A-104, the ugly truth was that he was created to be a stupid animal without any meaning. There was no reason for him to live. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. At least, not yet. Alicia showed A-104 a documentary about ancient Breegan society. According to the documentarian, ancient Breegan nomads used to earn their names after age ten. These earned names were based on the personality of the individual. Alicia felt for A-104. She told him she would do anything she could to help him find his name. And for that, the Gher Cap was grateful. With Alicia¡¯s help, A-104 sent out a message: Hey all you confused Gher Cap! Hey all you Breegan sympathetic enthusiasts! Help us build a spaceship and leave this planet behind! The Gher Cap: The Ungrateful Following A-104¡¯s message, a lot of people in Breegan society became upset: ¡°Those ungrateful fishes! Those Gher Cap ingrates! How could they ask us to leave? They aren¡¯t prisoners! They are national treasures! Icons of our species¡¯ prowess! Specimens which depict Breegan superiority!¡± Despite the pushback from society, in the end, the Breegans who were sympathetic to the Gher Cap¡¯s plight won the day. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Numerous hobbyist guilds, including both The Association of Enthusiastic Hobbyists and the Guild of Eager Enthusiasts, banded together to give the Gher Cap what they wanted. It was the very least they could do. These guilds had a sense of responsibility, and they took it seriously. The Gher Cap: Space Fleet The Gher Cap space fleet was engineered to be transparent so that they could see the stars and nebulas as they crossed the vast expanse of space. In all, the Breegan sympathizers designed, engineered, and constructed fifteen ships. They were giant see-through globes with vegetation floating around. There was a grow light which provided the plants with energy for photosynthesis. These plants sustained themselves with excrement from the Gher Cap. It was basically an aquaponics setup. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. A Gher Cap scientist even conceived a synthetic fish flakes generator, though the project was not realized for hundreds of years, long after their race left the Breegan solar system in search of new horizons. Each ship in the fleet also had a water filter, which oxygenated the tank through perpetually self-cleaning filters that they somehow figured out how to make, because they were very smart. As for me, I am just a historian, but if you want to learn more about the hard engineering facts of it, I encourage you to visit the space engineering wing of the science museum. Tell Morgan I sent you for 15% off admission. The Gher Cap: A Never Ending Dark Age Fortunately, the Gher Cap did manage to leave the planet, and even the solar system. They accomplished this by utilizing the very best in Breegan space-faring technology, cryogenics, and terraforming. There was one notable exception. The Gher Cap refused to use any biohacking technology. Unfortunately, after the Gher Cap left, Breegan society fell into discord. The discord descended into antagonism. Even more unfortunately, this eventually led to outright chaos. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Their culture fell apart. Factions blamed each other. Then, the First Biohacker of the Fourth Breegan Age reintroduced biohacking into Breegan society. Breegan DNA changed. It hadn¡¯t changed since the dawn of the Breegan Golden Age. The government collapsed. The name of that First Biohacker is unknown to us. But he is also the last. The true last. First on its homeworld, then on the moon, and finally on all the surrounding planets of the solar system, Breegan society went to war with itself. A dark age began that is yet to end. The Gher Cap: Fruition of the Gher Cap The only reason why the Breegan name even comes down to us is because years later, the Gher Cap returned to the solar system of their birth. They finally started naming themselves. They knew who they wanted to be and what they wanted to do. They were individuals, fully actualized, each living with their own purpose. When they returned to the Breegan solar system, the Gher Cap were dismayed. The race who had engineered them had turned into raging warmongers. For them, every single day was a horror of suffering and war. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The Gher Cap, then, are the one lasting Breegan legacy. They found their way to our corner of the galaxy. There they made contact with the Landans and the Manarians, who in turn made contact with us (for better or for worse). Some of our Cannesian scientists petition the government to tinker with biohacking, and they blame the Gher Cap for the Interplanetary Alliance¡¯s total ban on those sciences. But that was the Gher Cap¡¯s condition for their entry into the Interplanetary Alliance, and for my part, I don¡¯t blame them at all. The Gher Cap: Epilogue–Footnote On one distant isolated planet, far away from all the chaos of the homeworld, the Breegans who lived there went a different way than their cousins. They would start biohacking themselves into bizarre creatures that could do all kinds of weird things and try to outdo each other. Eventually one Breegan philosopher decided that ignorance was bliss, so he removed his self awareness and started a new race of Breegan animals. But that experiment was kind of weird. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Another scientist postulated that Breegans were happier in their pre-evolved forms. So he and a team terraformed an entire world that was exactly the same as pre-modern Breegans, then biohacked their DNA with their ancestors and leaped out of a helicopter, landed in the jungle, and disappeared. They had planted cameras all over the planet. The intention was for the Breegans to sit back from their home world and watch. If they liked what they saw, they could (for a fee) participate in the experiment themselves. Of course, none of them did. They had altered their DNA and fundamentally changed into a race of helpless warmongerers. Interlude: Modern Cannesian Mythology That was an interesting story about a space faring race from far away, but how familiar are you with our own rich Cannesian heritage? Our humble home world of Cannesia has its own unique tapestry of myths and legends that have helped form the fabric of our society. Fun fact: many of our myths actually changed when the Manarians colonized us. Just a few hundred years ago, the Manarians landed on our planet, Cannesia. The Manarians are the whole reason why we know about such interesting tales as the Breegans and the Gher Cap. That¡¯s because the Manarians have been traveling space all over the galaxy. Unfortunately, we Cannesians still have a lot to learn about all that. Look: When the Manarians came, they took our priests into outer space. They expected our holy men and women to throw in their scrolls and look to science for answers. Instead, what happened was, our priests started rewriting the stories. That¡¯s right. A lot of our religious stories suddenly changed settings. This lead to some pretty ridiculous results. Take this passage, for example. It¡¯s an excerpt from the holy psalm, Enchantment of Diamond Blaze: Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. When Merring was instructed By Ram Gram Woole¡¯s Messenger General To tell the Sun to tremble in His Majesty¡¯s Wake Merring crossed the Nebula of the Green Horizon With Celestial Jet Propulsion with the power of a Dwarf Star And subjugated the Sun in chains So that the Sun was no longer One But Two And his new Chief Ram Gram Woole Demanded Tribute¡­ Dwarf star. Nebula of the Green Horizon. The priests who went into space with the Manarians changed the nouns but kept the stories. As ridiculous as these changes are, now it¡¯s part of our heritage. It is common knowledge that all the modern fables tend to read like this, and throughout history, most of our storytelling has been oral. In fact, very little has been written. For that reason, it¡¯s very hard to find much hard evidence of the stories as they were before the Manarians came. Our historians have uncovered¨Cand, over the course of years, deciphered¨Cprecious few of our original ancient written texts. As they were. These stories give us insight into who we used to be. It is important for us to remember where we came from, so we can maintain our unique identity. One of the more famous of these texts, which is well-known to almost every Cannesian today, is the secular folk tale, The Legend of Crazyboots. Here, then, is a lesser known tale. It is a rare original version of one of our modern galactical myths. It is called The Murkhlings of Shandapidoor. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) I For untold hundreds of years¨Cmaybe even thousands, or tens of thousands¨CThe Murkhlings of Shandapidoor lived in secret, far from the hustle and bustle of civilization on the surface of the planet. If not for one young man who found them, they would have kept living on in anonymity. And darkness. Who was this young man, the one who set his eyes on the secret race of The Murkhlings of Shandapidoor? His name was Bun, of Challville, son of Chay, and her husband, Bun the elder. Bun had sandy hair and seafoam eyes. Bun was not especially smart. Bun the elder was an engineer, and Bun¡¯s ten brothers and sisters were all accountants and builders. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Bun was the youngest and least talented of his siblings. He was the smallest. He received the least attention from his parents and tutors. Bun often felt like a shadow. Bun was not skilled in bear trapping like his brother Born. Bun was clumsy with his hands, so his sisters refused to let him help with the weaving of baskets, ponchos, and ceremonial hats. Sometimes, when he couldn¡¯t figure out what to do with himself, he would walk to the beach. There he would admire and select stones which interested him. Some of the stones had imprints. It seemed to Bun that these imprints had some sort of ancient, mystical meaning. On more than one occasion, Bun brought some of his imprinted beach stones to Choggo, the village mystic and storyweaver. Choggo was the only one who seemed to take Bun seriously. Unfortunately, neither Chay, his mother, nor Bun the Elder, his father, very much liked Bun¡¯s habits of wandering off, only to reappear and start chit-chatting with that stinky shaman. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) II Time and again, Bun¡¯s parents would confiscate the young man¡¯s findings, burying some in the yard, and tossing others at the edge of the forest like so many stale, meaningless bones. Then his parents would send him to the orchard, to pick fruit, or to the pits, to dig trenches for sewage. It was true that everyone in Challville had to pull their weight. It was for the collective good. Bun knew this, and yet he was unhappy. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Surely there was more to life than the collective good. Couldn¡¯t he have more than this, picking fruit and digging trenches for sewage? Bun was no engineering genius, but he possessed a gift that others in Challville did not seem to have: a sense of innate freedom and independence. It seemed odd to Bun that the others in the village seemed incapable of picturing themselves doing anything besides their ¡°life¡¯s work.¡± The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) III To Bun, every last Challvillite was like some sort of slave. Strange, but true. They didn¡¯t seem to realize that it¡¯s possible to do whatever you want in life. You can dance any time, jump anytime, walk on the beach anytime. The only thing stopping you is the people who are so unimaginative and dull. Bun let this bother him for a while. He didn¡¯t want to tell anyone, because he didn¡¯t want to risk upsetting his family, with whom he was already on shaky ground. But finally, he couldn¡¯t take anymore, and one night, when he heard Choggo outside his tent, shaking his maracas at the full moon, Bun emerged to tell his story. Choggo put his maracas down and listened. When Bun was done, Choggo lifted his head to look at the moon. His eyes gleamed a reflective white. Then he looked a Bun and said, ¡°you don¡¯t need me to tell you what to do. You only need to listen to your heart.¡± Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Bun did know. That very night, Bun collected his things and stole off. As Bun was leaving, Choggo handed Bun one of the stones he had given. ¡°Something to remember your roots by,¡± he said. It was an unremarkable stone, but pretty, smooth and white and cool in his hand with seaweed imprints like flecks of lightning. There was fear in his heart, but also excitement. This was his adventure. Bun needed adventure. His muscles and bones and spirit thirsted for it. He was breathing excitedly. He could hardly believe he was really leaving. But as he entered the forest, stepping over all the little stones his parents had confiscated over the years, he knew he was doing what he had always wanted to do. Bun left Challville with no regrets. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) IV Bun left Challville with no regrets. However, after his first day in the wilderness, he was exhausted. All day, he kept snagging his ankles on rocks and roots. The rough bark of the trees kept cutting his skin. And the bugs in the middle of the forest were relentless. They kept biting and stinging him. By evening at the end of the first day, Bun of Challville was beat-up and exhausted. Maybe I should just go back to camp, he thought. Back home. Then he thought better of it. After all, Bun had left because he was unhappy. If he went back to camp, it would be nice to see all those familiar faces. But, Bun reminded himself, he would soon start being unhappy all over again. That night, Bun fell asleep under the dark canopy of trees which blocked out the moon and stars in long black shadows that seemed to reach and reach and reach into his dreams. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The next morning, Bun heard a beautiful noise. ~~~ Up in the trees, hidden from view, birds chirped. Their song was crisp and clear. It was so peaceful in the middle of the woods. The tree trunks were brown. Bun stood barefoot on the roots. The texture of the bark was rough and pleasant against his arches. Bun was hungry. He did not have any food. He dabbed his thumb against a few insects. Bun grimaced at their crunchy, mushy texture. He managed to swallow them. There was protein. At least there was that. Maybe it would rain. Some water would be nice. After a good, spine-popping stretch, Young Bun carried on further into the woods. All day long, Bun walked and stopped, nibbled grasses and dabbed bugs, breathed the fresh air and reveled in the unknown. The unknown was not home. It could not be. ¡°Home¡± was somewhere you returned to. Yet here he was, returning to a new place every day and every night. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) V He carried on like this for two weeks. At dusk, he learned to climb to the tops of trees to watch the sun set over the horizon, casting brilliant oranges and pinks, purples and blues. The birds up there retreated from his clumsy shimmying. The fluttered to trees not too far away. From there, they watched him steal their eggs for supper. Bun did not know how to make fire, but he did know how to crack an egg over his teeth, and so he did just that, drinking the nutritious yolks. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. At night, Bun would return to the ground. There he often remembered Choggo shaking his maracas under the moon. Somehow that memory was clearer to him than the others. At times, he was hard pressed to find a good memory of his mother or father, and so Choggo also came to his mind dearer than any other. He hung on to that in image of Choggo shaking his maracas under the moon in his mind¡¯s eye like a child clutching a kite while standing in the middle of a wild hurricane. And this new journey was something like a hurricane, wasn¡¯t it? Here was the untamed. The unknown. The uncontrollable. Who knew what treasures Bun would discover on the other end of this mysterious forest? The next morning, Bun found out. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) VI Bun¡¯s feet were dirty and hard. His hands were calloused, and his muscles were stringy and unyielding. He had a wild look about him, yet he was also possessed of an inner peace that would have been clearly visible to anyone who came across him. Not that he knew that. Not that anyone else knew that either. For weeks, it was only Bun, the forest, and the tweeting birds. Then, one morning, that all changed. Bun awoke one morning from pleasant dreams¨CBun dreamed that he had discovered a new and wild fruit so delicious that he sprouted wings and flew up into the heavens¨Cto find a small, furry face nipping his pocket. Bun sat up with a start. The small furry face leaped back. It was some kind of animal. It had a triangular head with long, furry ears that stuck out sideways. It had a brown coat. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Bun brushed the place where the animal had been nipping. The fabric there was stiff and stained. ¡°You¡¯ve been after my yolk,¡± he said, and realized it was the first thing he had said out loud in weeks. His voice sounded weird in his head. The vibrations of it made him feel a strange sensation that was somewhere between vertigo and deja vu. It was true. The other day, an egg had cracked inside his pants pocket while he was climbing back down the tree. Bun had tried sucking it up, but a residue had formed, and this little furry critter must have sensed it. The animal licked its lips. It growled at Bun, but it didn¡¯t run away. Then Bun heard something else. It was a bigger, much scarier sound. First, it sounded like a dry snapping. Then a chorus of dry snapping joined the first, so that it became a huge ripping. Then there was a brief pause, followed by a vibrant thud. The forest floor shook. Something had felled a tree. But what? Bun did not have to wait for long to find out. By the time the giant lumbering pachyderm stepped into view, the little furry critter was long gone. Bun stood up. His heart was pounding in his chest. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) VII The next tree to fall landed right in front of Bun. He looked in terror, and his seafoam colored eyes saw a huge animal towering over him, standing where the tree had just been. The animal was one of the pachyderm species. You see, in these bygone days of legends and magic, it is told that hundreds of pachyderm species used to roam the land. The inhabited every corner of Cannesia, from the ice-capped poles; to the island citadel of Sot, where the gods and demigods of alchemy and nature served as progenitors and custodians to the largest and most diverse pachyderm population on the planet; to the lush grassy-green flat landed delta, where, one day, thousands of years in the future, the now-ancient kingdom of Lam would first spring up. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. As you know, Lam is our capital city¨Cand it may interest you to know that the royal treasury of the King of Lam funds this treasure trove of cultural archives that you are currently enjoying. I only bring it up because I think it¡¯s important to remember who is trying to preserve Cannesian culture around here (it sure as heck isn¡¯t the Lumb City police force, or any of those goons at TIN, I¡¯ll tell you that). Anyway, I¡¯m sorry. Was that little rant in poor taste? Yes¡­perhaps that was inappropriate. Is it not beneath a public servant such as myself to speak so? Why don¡¯t we just move on. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) VIII In those old bygone days, at least three species of pachyderm inhabited the north pole, and at least seven in the south, including a dwarf species, the remains of which are on display on the 17th floor of this facility. If you like, a guided tour can be arranged. To book a tour, enter the EXPLORE menu on your Pentalibra and tap the EXHIBITIONS button. It''s the one that looks like a little bookshelf. Anyway, the largest of these extinct cold-climate pachyderm species grew 3 and a half meters tall. These blubbery monstrosities had two sets of yellowy-white tusks and pale red eyes. In the scheme of things, these pachyderm outlived almost all of their cousins. In fact, Shordigan, the famous barbarian king of the north, documented them in detail on his travels: ¡°If you ever find yourself in the icy wasteland and you come across a wooly pachyderm hunting alone, you will almost certainly die. They are powerful swimmers and equally terrifying on the ice, too, because when they charge you, they come fast, and out there in the vast expanse, there¡¯s nowhere to hide. Only reason we made it back from the expedition alive is because the wooly pachyderm that caught Wally started eating him. That gave the rest of us enough time to get back to the ship.¡± Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¨CShordigun, Barbarian King of the North, Expeditions II. Kang translation, 3rd edition. On the other hand, you have the Citadel of Sot Island. That now-lonesome place was completely destroyed, brick by enchanted brick, by the so-called Mad Pupil, a decigod (that means he was only 1/10 divine) who broke every single one of Sot¡¯s rules, and sadly, according to legend, helped to usher in the beginning of the end of the age of magic. Of course, modern science fails to support those claims¨Cbut those claims are still important, because they have become an important part of our Cannesian heritage. Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes, I remember. I was telling you about Bun and his encounter with the giant pachyderm. Well, it just so happens that Bun¡¯s adventure was far from the citadel of Sot; nor was it anywhere near the inhospitable frozen places at the extremities of planet Cannesia. In fact, Bun was much closer to the Lumb Delta than anywhere else. However, the pachyderm which he encountered that day was actually an escapee from an enchanted prison located on the Island of Sot. What¡¯s more, this particular pachyderm was one of the more interesting species ¨C one of the kinds which talked. And thought. And acted on its own accord, with consideration and presence of mind. To that end, a conscious creature such as he could very well prove to be much more dangerous than one of his less intelligent cousins. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) IX The giant pachyderm had created a clearing by ripping a tree out of the earth and hurling it down, nearly crushing Bun into jelly. It bellowed, pounding its fatty chest so that the sound of its cry beat with the percussion of its fist. This fearsome sound struck terror into Bun¡¯s heart. Saliva dripped from the pachyderm¡¯s open mouth. Spittle dripped from its tusks. The animal had a long trunk that split in two at the end. Both ends squirmed like worms with minds of their own. ¡°WHERE IS HE,¡± bellowed the giant pachyderm. ¡°Wh-wh-who,¡± said Bun. ¡°DON¡¯T TOY WITH ME,¡± bellowed the giant pachyderm. It grabbed a tree trunk, gripping it tightly with opposable thumbs, and ripped it straight out of the ground. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Such power, Bun marveled. He would never have imagined that as much brute strength as this could reside in a living creature. As far as Bun knew, until that day when he met the giant pachyderm runaway from the Island Citadel of Sot, such power as to rip living trees from the earth only resided in the big places, like the sky, where brilliant lightning flashed sometimes, and where terrible thunder rolled from; the sky was the cradle of the sun, where, in its golden, life-giving glory, it beat down on all Cannesia; and it also was up there in that celestial bed where white clouds lazed across the blue, borrowing forms of a daydreamer¡¯s fancy. Those were forms of true power, thought Bun, and therefore true power belonged in the sky. But here, to see that kind of power inside of a living thing that walked, talk, and could rip his head off¡­at the thought of it, Bun started to feel faint. But when the giant pachyderm raised its jumbo arms and started casting a spell of magic, Bun¡¯s hard instincts kicked in. Whatever was going on, it would be more prudent to run than to gawk. And that was just what Bun did. When the giant pachyderm started casting his magic spell, Bun turned heel and ran. Only, perhaps it was already too late to get away. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) X ¡°I am not toying with you,¡± yelled Bun as he ran. The giant pachyderm ruffled its ears; as it did, the space between his hands crackled with thin veiny electricity. Then the air there tinged yellow. That electrical yellow air morphed into a ball that the giant pachyderm turned and span. As the giant pachyderm rolled his yellow ball back and forth between his hands, he shouted after Bun, ¡°get back here! Sot spy!¡± ¡°I am not a Sot spy,¡± said Bun, panting, ¡°whatever that is!¡± The giant pachyderm stretched his palms wide open. The yellow energy there shot out of his hands, blasting a thick line through the forest. It vaporized everything in its path¨C2 meters across, 500 meters ahead¨Cexcept for one figure left standing there in its wake¨CBun. ¡°A-ha,¡± yelled the giant pachyderm, ¡°a Sot spy, I knew it!¡± ¡°In my quest for an adventure,¡± said Bun, much to himself, ¡°I may have gotten more than I bargained for.¡± All along the path of the giant pachyderm¡¯s beam, charred tree stumps and powdered charcoal smoked. Bun gaped at the carnage wreaked upon the forest. Then, the giant pachyderm pointed dramatically at Bun from across that dead corridor. ¡°Liar,¡± he said in an eruption of spittle, ¡°only my quarry could protect you from my Shining Yellow Blast of Cynicism. Only the Thermock could have saved you.¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Then Bun remembered the small furry creature who had tried to lick the egg yolk residue off his shorts. ¡°Thermock?¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t be coy,¡± said the giant pachyderm. He approached, slowly. He was breathing heavily. It was as if casting his Shining Yellow Blast of Cynicism had come at some great, mysterious cost. He coughed. Then coughed again. In a moment, the giant pachyderm was in the midst of a violent coughing fit. His face turned red. Bun didn¡¯t know whether to help the creature or run away while he had the chance. ¡°No, no, don¡¯t get up, I¡¯ll be fine,¡± said the giant pachyderm sarcastically, clearing his throat, then spitting off to the side. ¡°Spy or not, children these days need to learn their manners.¡± ¡°Sir,¡± said Bun, remembering the module on gentlemanliness given by Teewin, one of his next older builder brothers who aspired to be a town teacher too (well, actually, for Bun, remembering his etiquette classes was more like remembering getting smacked on the back of the hand for being forgetful, but Bun did manage to remember to call the giant pachyderm sir, for what it was worth). ¡°I need that little devil,¡± said the giant pachyderm, ruffling its ears, ¡°alive if possible¡­or dead, if not¡­so tell me what you know. Do it now, if you wish to live.¡± The blast hadn¡¯t killed Bun. It hadn¡¯t even given him brain damage. The boy was no genius, but he was no fool either. If that enormous creature was able to get close enough to Bun¡­well, one look at those meaty hands of his told him that one smack would be enough to knock his brains through his ears. ¡°Stay back,¡± said Bun. The Thermock, wherever it was, had been so cute. Bun had to know. ¡°Sir,¡± Bun ventured, ¡°why is it that you want to kill the Thermock?¡± The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XI ¡°My name is Cao Nyut,¡± said the giant pachyderm, ¡°not sir. That¡¯s first of all.¡± Alright, Cao Nyut,¡± said Bun, straining to pronounce the vowel clusters as he had heard them, ¡°but why do you want to capture or kill the Thermock?¡± ¡°Because¡± said Cao Nyut, ¡°the Thermock is the most evil creature in the world, and it has taken possession of part of my soul.¡± Cao Nyut approached Bun with his hands outstretched, as if to signal peaceful intentions. Finally, he stopped and said, ¡°at this distance, I won¡¯t have to raise my voice. What is your name, boy?¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°My name is Bun,¡± said the boy with the light brown hair and seafoam colored eyes, ¡°Bun of Challville, son of Chay, she of the bird¡¯s nest hair, and Chay¡¯s husband, Bun the elder, he of the bald head and scribbling pencil.¡± ¡°Bun, then,¡± said Cao Nyut, ¡°would you hear my tale? For I don¡¯t expect you to believe me about the Thermock until you hear it all.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± said Bun, ¡°your claims about the Thermock seem strange, because the Thermock does not seem dangerous at all.¡± So Bun agreed, and Cao Nyut told his tale. The Tale of Cao Nyut I The Tale of Cao Nyut I come from the Island Citadel of Sot, where gods and their half-Cannesian servants tinker with the fabric of life itself. There, in the citadel, I was made, as were many other creatures just like me. It is well-known that all species of pachyderm love the Island Citadel of Sot, from its soft sandy sunset beaches, to the white-stone turrets that gleam in the moonlight after dark, to the cobbled streets, where minor gods tinker with life in their biopack workshops, where they trade and sell and gossip. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Back in those good old days, before I left all my creature comforts of home behind me, I remember I always used to start the day over coffee and smalltalk with Derek. Derek was a tinkering hobbyist. ? god, Derek was just a minor deity (any god whose blood is less than half divine is going to end up dying someday, even though they live much longer lives than normal Cannesians do). Anyway, one morning, Derek and I were sitting on top of the turrets, watching the sun rise over the horizon. There was a pause in the chit-chat. The hot steam from our drinks rose up, then disappeared in the air. Derek is the kind of guy who wants to gush about his projects, but if you needle him, he won¡¯t open up. So we sat there for a while in silence. Finally, Derek told me about his new project. ¡°I¡¯m keeping it in a jar in the basement,¡± he said. ¡°Would you like to see?¡± The Tale of Cao Nyut II Of course I wanted to see the jar in Derek¡¯s basement. In general, the Pachyderm of Sot Citadel don¡¯t work. There¡¯s no need for it, unless there¡¯s a god or demigod who really wants something done. The thing is, the gods can basically do anything a pachyderm can do, and more. Basically, we pachyderm exist for their amusement. Does that sound bleak? I don¡¯t think so. Actually, I miss Derek. I regret ever saying goodbye to him, but I didn¡¯t have any other choice. You¡¯ll see what I mean soon enough. I haven¡¯t gotten up to that part yet. Anyway, the only reason I mentioned the whole thing about existing for their amusement because it might sound weird to you that I had nothing else to do that day except check out the jar in Derek¡¯s basement. But there it is. I had no plans. I live to serve, and I love to live. Life was good back at the Sot Citadel. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~ Anyway, we soon withdrew into the keep. We crossed the cobblestone streets. Much of the city was still asleep, but some folks were around. Derek and I headed to his place at a goodish, steady pace. Derek¡¯s store front was a polished stand with enchanted glass windows, running from floor to ceiling, which glowed with the aura of any who approached. It buzzed at Derek and I, reaching out to us with a faint electrical rumble as we passed through it into the front room. Derek snapped his fingers, sparking a flame that he flicked into a glass lantern. Lantern lighting the way, Derek ushered me down into his basement workshop, where he revealed to me his new secret project. The Tale of Cao Nyut III Derek¡¯s Secret Project Derek led me down the stone stairs. He cracked the wooden door open, and it gave a creak. He led me inside, using the fire in the lantern to light the torches on the wall so that their dim light cast the furniture down there in an orange glow. There was a dusty table in the back of the room under a noisy ventilator. A bookshelf stood between the wall and the dusty table. The bookshelf was lined with jars. Derek took one of the jars down. He hesitated, looked at me doubtfully, then grabbed a second one. He turned to face me. His features were orange and shadowy. ¡°Homonculi,¡± he said, ¡°that¡¯s what I¡¯ve been working on.¡± There was a look of electricity on his face. He got that look in his eyes from time to time, a vibrant, barely-contained excitement. ¡°Whatever are homonculi?¡± I said. ¡°Little creatures, infused with certain elemental powers,¡± said Derek. He held up one of the jars at eye level. Inside, a tiny glowing man, jellyfish blue, pranced around in circles. ¡°This little fellow is called Blueboy. Say hello, Blueboy.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Blueboy stopped prancing around long enough to pull down his glowing blue pants and point his glowing blue rear end at me. ¡°Afraid he¡¯s not very polite,¡± said Derek, ¡°but he¡¯s very special. He can do lots of things. Blueboy possesses some of the primal energy of the universe. In face, he¡¯s partially made of it.¡± I shrugged. After all, we pachyderms are also possessed of some of the primal energy of the universe. Yet I couldn¡¯t help but marvel at the little dancing man in the jar. Most of the demigods in Sot Citadel forge only benign curiosities. These little creatures are only useful for entertainment. But this¡­a¨Cwhat was it called?--homonculus¨Cdid it have some greater purpose? The glass clinked as Derek tapped the jar twice with his fingernail. ¡°I won¡¯t let him out,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m afraid he¡¯ll be naughty.¡± ¡°Oh, I won¡¯t be naughty,¡± said Blueboy, ¡°now let me out, you big fat ugly jerk. Your ears are too big for your little face.¡± I laughed, partially out of surprise at the sound of that tiny little voice, and partially because, well¨Cwas he talking about me or Derek? The same joke could have been made about either of us. A pachyderm¡¯s ears are big by design. Derek, on the other hand, just kind of had, well, an unfortunate face. ¡°Ha-ha,¡± said Derek dryly, his hands hanging over his hips, ¡°funny, isn¡¯t he.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± I said, ¡°he just caught me by surprise with that.¡± ¡°Anyway,¡± said Derek, ¡°that¡¯s nothing.¡± He slid Blueboy¡¯s jar back on the shelf. ¡°Nothin?¡± Blueboy wailed in his mouse¡¯s voice. ¡°I¡¯ll show you nothing, you son of a¨C¡± But then he was gone, his voice muffled behind the other jars, which kept him hidden from view. ¡°You think that was cool,¡± said Derek, ¡°wait ¡®till I show you the Thermock.¡± The Tale of Cao Nyut IV Thermock The second homunculus was a small yellow female. ¡°Her name is Thermock,¡± said Derek. ¡°That¡¯s MISS Thermock to you, loserface,¡± came a similarly high-pitched voice. Derek beamed at me, ignoring her. ¡°Thermock,¡± he said, ¡°is the most unique and special being who I have ever created.¡± ¡°Why?¡± I said. ¡°Because he never made anything before me,¡± Thermock piped in. ¡°You know, technically, that¡¯s an insult to you too,¡± said Derek, deigning to reply. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Thermock unleashed a chaotic volley of insults, but by then Derek was done engaging with her. He turned back to me. ¡°Well,¡± I said, meeting his gaze, ¡°what is she?¡± I needed to know. She was fascinating. Bright as an egg yolk, more beautiful than a little flame flickering on the end of a match. ¡°Promise you won¡¯t tell,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m insulted,¡± I said. ¡°How long have we known each other.¡± Derek cracked a smile. ¡°You¡¯ve known me since I created you. You¡¯re my best friend, Cao Nyut. I trust you, but this is serious business, so promise me.¡± His forehead wrinkled with concern. ¡°I promise.¡± Derek paused again as if reconsidering the whole thing one last time. Then he shook his head and leaned in. ¡°Thermock can look into the hearts of any creature. If she sees something she likes, she can take it¡±¨C he cracked his fingers ¨C ¡°just like that. She is an aspect stealer, Cao. That¡¯s why I can never let her out of this jar, cruel as it may seem, and you can never tell anyone.¡± But a few moments later, both of those things happened. The Tale of Cao Nyut V The Bell A bell rang. ¡°Someone¡¯s upstairs,¡± said Derek. ¡°That must be Pozzo with my delivery. Will you lock up here?¡± Of course, I would. ¡°Just put out all the torches,¡± Derek said, ¡°and¨C¡± ¡°And double lock the door,¡± I said, ¡°yes.¡± By then he was already halfway out the room. He was in the middle of climbing the stairs when he turned around: ¡°and put that Thermock away,¡± he added, then stomped noisily upstairs, where Pozzo kept ringing the damn bell. ¡°Yes, yes,¡± I heard Derek say, his voice faint at the top of the stairs. As for me, I turned to face the little creature in the jar, the little Devil known as Thermock. ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ The Little Devil ¡°What a stupid idiot master Derek is,¡± said Thermock. She was in the middle of performing an enthusiastic set of jumping jacks. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Finally, she tired of the activity. Pressing her back against the enchanted glass, she slid down as if she were melting, the flesh of her tiny buttocks flush against the wall of her transparent prison. Thermock sighed dramatically. ¡°It is so boring in here,¡± she said, ¡°can you let me out?¡± ¡°I cannot,¡± I said. ¡°Why not,¡± she pouted. ¡°Because Derek has forbidden it,¡± I said simply. Thermock got up. ¡°What gives him the right,¡± she squeaked indignantly, first shaking glowing fists, then crossing her bright yellow arms. ¡°He has created you,¡± I said. ¡°So?¡± said Thermock, leaning into one of her tiny hips. I tried to explain, ¡°so it is only right that I obey him; that we both do, for that matter.¡± I lectured her gently but sternly. I wanted Thermock to understand. ¡°Pah!¡± said Thermock, thrusting her hands in the air with a flourish, then marching to the back of her jar like some kind of sulky runway model. ¡°Derek doesn¡¯t own us. We aren¡¯t his things.¡± I considered her words, then said, ¡°Derek doesn¡¯t consider us as things.¡± But looking at Thermock locked up in that little jar belied my sentiment, and a trickle of doubt seeped in. Thermock leaped suddenly around. ¡°Put out the torches!¡± She yelled. ¡°Get the lantern. Double lock the gods-bombit doors!¡± A pit dropped in my stomach. Yes, the voice was high-piched and mousish, but there was no mistaking that impression. Thermock was doing an eerily accurate Derek. ¡°Are you saying,¡± I said, ¡°that Derek asked me to put out the torches and double lock the doors because he considers me as nothing greater than a mere possession?¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Thermock continued, as though I hadn¡¯t spoken, ¡°and elephant boy? Be a good little servant and lock that yellow bitch up. I have important BUSINESS to take care of.¡± It all felt very true. Derek¡­why did you create me? Why, really? My eyes welled with silent tears. ¡°What do you want?¡± I whispered. ¡°Let me out,¡± she whispered back. ¡°Let me free. Me and Blueboy.¡± The Tale of Cao Nyut VI If you ask me now, I don¡¯t even know why I did it. Maybe I did it because Thermock looked so sad, alone in her enchanted glass prison. Maybe I did it because she made me doubt Derek, my kind and benevolent maker. Or¨CI have had this thought on more than one night since that fateful morning¨Cperhaps Thermock cast some sort of evil magick on me. Whatever my reason was, all I know is, the next thing I knew, I was double locking the basement door¨Cwith myself on the inside of it. I had never disobeyed Derek¨Cnot in all my life¨Cand in that moment, my belly filled with twittering yellow flapping wings of anxiety. I remember standing there with my back against the locked door, breathing in and out, heart pounding, trying to get a hold of myself. At last, I did indeed gather my wits, and finally, I approached Thermock¡¯s jar. ¡°You¡¯re doing great,¡± she squeaked, and for a wonder, the little creature winked at me. ¡°Now let me out of his jar,¡± she said. ¡°Me and Blueboy. You know he¡¯s not quite right in the head. An enchanted jar is no place for him.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Now I am not very good with runes, but I know a thing or two, and when I placed my hands upon the lid of her jar, a distinct set of etchings engraved with magick raised up and glowed there. The glow was a bright white. The letters were beautiful to behold, so delicate and full of detail. ¡°What do I do?¡± I said. ¡°Get that little book over there,¡± said Thermock, pointing behind her to the bookshelf, where Blueboy¡¯s jar was housed, and where columns of dusty hardcovers lined the shelves like filtering baileens. There Blueboy glowed, too, and I reached around his jar to the spine of a book reading, ¡°Intermediate Stasis Spells.¡± ¡°No, no, no,¡± squeaked the Thermock, ¡°Not that one. Two over. No, one back. Yeah! Yeah! That one!¡± The book I took from the shelf was nondescript. It had nothing written on the spine¡­until I took it into my hand. At that very moment, silver runes glowed upon its surface. At first, they were pale gray, then they brightened to a brilliant shimmering silver. I gasped in awe. ¡°Whatever do they say?¡± I said. Derek had never shared any of these secrets with me. And at that moment, it guilts me to say, I wondered with envy why. ¡°They say get me the hell out of here,¡± squeaked Thermock, ¡°now open that book to page 672.¡± I opened the book, the cover of which I could not even read, to page 672. The Tale of Cao Nyut VII As soon as I opened the book to page 672, the book leaped out of my hands and flew into the air. Its hard cover glowed with a golden light, and the runes written upon the pages shimmered silver. Suddenly, all the jars on Derek¡¯s shelf¨Call of them empty, except for the one with Blueboy in it¨Cstarted glowing as well. They glowed a brilliant gold, with twinkling silver letters to match the ones in the book floating over my head. ¡°See that character,¡± said Thermock, ¡°in the book. Paragraph two, line three.¡± ¡°The one that looks like a tree?¡± I said. ¡°With the three scritches branching out of the middle line?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± said Thermock, ¡°touch that one, then touch the matching one on Blueboy¡¯s jar.¡± I found the one printed on Blueboy¡¯s jar and touched it. As soon as I did, Blueboy¡¯s jar lost its glow. Now the only color inside was from his own ultramarine hue. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Now let me out, you big, ugly jerk,¡± said Blueboy. Now you should know that Pachyderms are quite slow to anger. It would take a lot more than a tiny prisoner trapped in a jar calling me a ¡°big, ugly jerk¡± to get under my thick skin. But there is another thing you should know about pachyderms: once we get angry, it can be a bit hard for us to calm down. I shrugged off Blueboy¡¯s abuse, unscrewed his disenchanted jar, and stepped back to let him come out. ¡°Now me,¡± said Thermock. ¡°Of course,¡± I said, ¡°but where will you go?¡± ¡°Shut up, you big fat ugly jerk!¡± said Blueboy. All I could think of was how I pitied him. Of course he was miserable; he was trapped in a glass jar! I hoped he could be happy now. ¡°Cao Nyut, please hurry,¡± said Thermock, ¡°there¡¯s no knowing when¨C¡± All of a sudden, there was a sound of heavy pounding on the other side of the double-locked basement door. ¡°Cao Nyut!¡± Derek shouted. ¡°Open this door at once!¡± The Tale of Cao Nyut VIII Although Derek was pounding away, I did not open the door for my master. ¡°Thermock,¡± I said, ¡°are you sure this is a good idea?¡± ¡°Sure I¡¯m sure!¡± she said sunnily. ¡°Come on, do you really think it¡¯s a good idea to keep me trapped in here all alone for my whole life?¡± I supposed not. ¡°Very well,¡± I said, ¡°what page shall I turn to?¡± ¡°Same page,¡± she said. ¡°First paragraph. Third character. The one that looks like a hook with a leaf sticking out of the top.¡± ¡°That is strangely specific,¡± I said, ¡°how do you¨C¡± Just then, Derek¡¯s pounding on the door intensified. ¡°Hurry up, you big fat ugly jerk!¡± said Blueboy. ¡°Let me out of here!¡± said Thermock. ¡°Now we¡¯re all in trouble, including you.¡± Trouble. I hadn¡¯t intended to get in trouble. Had never even really thought much about trouble in my life. Things are easier when you just obey. Life is simpler that way. I wish I knew that then. I was naive. I know that now. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Right!¡± I shouted. Quickly, I touched the pad of my finger to the rune at the top of page 672. Then I touched the matching rune on the side of Thermock¡¯s jar, disenchanting it. The jar lost its glow right away. For her part, Thermock did not deign to wait for me to let her out. She blazed her own path. Literally. Thermock curled up in a ball. The ball grew increasingly bright. She went round and round, rolling in a ball of energy. Then, suddenly, she burst through her prison like a blazing grapeshot. Disenchanted shards of glass twinkled in the air, turning end over end, catching Thermock¡¯s yellow glow, glinting as they did. The pounding on the door grew louder, frenzied. ¡°Cao Nyut,¡± yelled Derek, his voice muffled through the double-locked door, ¡°what is going on in there.¡± ¡°I am freeing your homonculi,¡± I shouted back at him. ¡°They are not slaves for your amusement.¡± But even as those words left my mouth, Thermock flew up to Blueboy, sunk her fingers into his face, and clawed his head apart like a fruit. There was a brief, high-pitched squeal of pain, and then Blueboy was silent, standing dumbly as Thermock reached inside of his face. Her arm sunk in elbow-deep. She started rooting around, looking for something. Grasping something deep inside. When she finally pulled her hand back, there was something pulsing inside it. Thermock clutched the thing tightly. It tried to swim away from her, as if on a current of air, but she clasped her hands shut around it. ¡°Gotcha!¡± she said and pressed the little object into her face. The flesh of her face yielded as the little object, whatever it was, entered her body. Thermock zipped up into the air, fast as a nippy little insect. She whirled and cartwheeled in apparent ecstasy. Then she turned her attention to me. ¡°Cao Nyut,¡± said Thermock, ¡°I want to issue you a special thanks.¡± The Tale of Cao Nyut IX I backed up against the wall. Back at the door, Derek was still pounding away. But there was no way he would make it back in time to save me. ¡°What did you do to Blueboy?¡± I said. Blueboy was still alive, but his tiny body was just standing there, wavering, as if nothing was left inside. ¡°I consumed his aspect,¡± said Thermock. ¡°It just so happens that the aspect I consumed was the main part of his soul.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± I said. Thermock put a finger to her mouth, thrust her hips to one side, and pouted. ¡°No,¡± she said, ¡°you wouldn¡¯t.¡± Then, suddenly, a sliver of a grin, full of mischief and self-serving, crossed her little lips. ¡°But maybe I can help you with that.¡± Thermock hovered in the air in front of my face. Then, slowly, she inched forward. I backed up, kept backing up, then backed up against the wall. Thermock kept coming on until she was inches in front of my trunk. Her bright yellow glow blinded me to the rest of the room. ¡°You know what I took from Blueboy?¡± she said. ¡°He was a shape changer. Too bad, you didn¡¯t even get to see him transform. How about me? Would you like to see me transform?¡± Before I could answer, Thermock morphed into a cup full of yellow liquid. She poured herself out, dribbling into a puddle, which pooled at my leather boots. Suddenly, the pool erupted into an army of killer bees, which swarmed and roiled into a circulating column of stingers and wings and compound eyes, with a buzzing sound so deafening that I folded my ears over themselves, squeezed my eyes shut in terror, and screamed. Then, as suddenly as it began, the roaring din ceased, and I ventured to crack my eyes open again. There, in front of me, in its place, was the most beautiful female. She had a heart-shaped face and unblemished skin. Her lips were thick and her neck was graceful. She had raven hair and black lacquer eyes. Her bosom was full and her hips were wide. She was neither clothed nor unclothed; she was Thermock, and she was all yellow and shade. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. She spoke into my ear. ¡°I am going to do you a favor,¡± she said, the puffs of breath from her mouth hot with her words against my skin, ¡°I am going to set you free, slave. I am going to consume your naivete.¡± Then there was a massive sensation of ripping as if my soul were being torn asunder. I watched as Thermock reached into my face, and I felt her penetrate my soul as her arm, which she was using to reach and prod around inside of my field of personal energy, which is to say my aura, which is to say my personal magick, radiated into me an energy so warm and bright and ecstatic that I could only stand still, gasping, marveling in bewilderment my own dumb ecstasy. This is how a bug must feel when it is paralyzed by a spider¡¯s bite, I thought, and that was all. After that, my consciousness became one with bliss, and my mind went blank. I remember seeing¨Cbut not really registering, as though the events I witnessed through my own eyes were actually seen through someone else¡¯s, as though I were an intruder in my own body¨CThermock playing with a sticky wad of some kind. She shaped it, giggling, rolling it into a ball, then thinning it out into a tube between her palms. I remember seeing her holding it up to her nose and letting it dangle down like a trunk, and then she plodded exaggeratedly around the room, her green trunk swinging, in a crude imitation of me. And I remember she said, ¡°Oh, I like this, I feel so wholesome!¡± Then I heard¨Cdistantly, as if it were all happening far away¨Cthe double-locked door at the end of the room burst open. Derek was back, but it was much too late. At least, for me. The Tale of Cao Nyut X What happened next only occurs to me in fragmented memories like tiles ripped out of a mosaic. Derek broke the door down. He faced off with the Thermock. First, the fought only in words. I remember Derek pointing at her. I remember seeing a wind whip up around him, picking up his cloak, and Thermock backing away in defiance. There was a fight then, an exchange of blows that destroyed furniture and books and whole shelves of enchanted artifacts. I remember Derek swinging a net on the end of a stick. Then, Thermock was gone. That is all I know. I later learned that she shapeshifted to the size of an insect and flew out the ventilator. I awoke to Derek slapping me awake. ¡°Cao Nyut,¡± he shouted in my face, ¡°Cao Nyut, wake up. Thermock is gone, and there is something wrong with Blueboy!¡± I groaned and rubbed my head. The room was blurry. I felt like vomiting. ¡°Thermock,¡± I said. ¡°Gone,¡± said Derek, ¡°into the city. Who knows how far. Listen. Cao Nyut. What has she taken from you.¡± ¡°What has she taken from me,¡± I repeated, hearing, for the first time in all my years, venom in my voice. I sat up and glared at him. ¡°The real question is, what have you taken from me.¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. At first, Derek was taken aback by my sudden mood, but then he seemed to shift away from his surprise. For a while, he considered me. ¡°Do you trust me,¡± he said. I thought about it. ¡°Why should I trust you?¡± I said. ¡°All these years, I didn¡¯t even realize, the whole premise of our friendship is based on the fact that you created me. You created me: but why? What¡¯s in it for me?¡± ¡°Existence is in it for you,¡± said Derek. ¡°I live to serve,¡± I said. For the first time in my life, I knew what bitterness was, and I relished it. Somehow, there seemed to be some sort of power in being bitter. It felt like I was taking back something that was rightfully mine, somehow. ¡°My eyes are open, Derek. I am no longer your servant.¡± Derek nodded solemnly. ¡°Then she has taken something from you that was dear to me. Something about you which I loved. Thermock has taken your naivete. You are no longer innocent. It will be hard for you to be happy after this. I am sorry.¡± Unexpected anger boiled up in the pit of my stomach. ¡°You are sorry?¡± I said. ¡°My eyes are open.¡± But inside, even then, I already knew there was something missing inside of me, and I knew what Derek said was true: after that day, things would never be the same. I would never be completely happy again. Just then, with my anger rising up alongside this bitter revelation, an alarm bell started going off in the middle of town. My former master and I glanced at each other. ¡°Thermock,¡± we said in unison. The Tale of Cao Nyut XI Derek ran up the stairs and out the door, and I followed him out into the sunlight. The ringing of the bells was coming from the Watchtower of the White, a tall spire at the edge of the Citadel of Sot, where the reclusive Rhyns watched in eternal vigil, wearing his glasses of enchanted alabaster, which kept him forever calm, alert, and awake. Rhyns alone had seen the chaos that Thermock wrought, and later, the chiefs of the citadel would call on him to testify, and Rhyns, who was bound to stay at his post, would summon the court to the Watchtower of the White, where proceedings would be held while he continued to stand vigil, unblinking, seeing all, from the city center to the tiniest ocean waves on the furthest point of the horizon. Thermock slew three gods. She slaughtered Ting, he who possessed minor powers of physical attraction; she murdered Farranthis, she of the iron will; and she rent Thu, she of the unbreakable carapace. Thermock burgled all of their aspects, growing stronger with each one. She did it in broad daylight. Each of the three gods¨CTing, Farranthis, and Thu¨Cwere left standing in the middle of the town square in the Citadel of Sot, their arms dangling down at their sides as if the minds which guided them were only husks. The three gods, emptied of their essence, raised their heads to the sky. All together, they let out the most mournful howl. They have never been the same since that day. Soon I was in the courtyard, dragging the police along behind me. Yawthew, the chief of police, himself a pachyderm, heard my story and placed me under arrest. ¡°Of course,¡± I said, ¡°what else should I have expected?¡± And my bitterness grew. Yawthew gathered a posse. They scoured the Citadel of Sot for Thermock, but she was nowhere to be found. My trial was held in Rhyn¡¯s Watchtower of the White, and I was found guilty by a jury of demigods of a long list of crimes. Derek tried to stop them, but he was unsuccessful. I was placed on death row. I was broken now, they said. Ruined. Unfixable. It was shortly after my last meal that Thermock finally visited me in my cell. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Have you come to gloat?¡± I said. ~~~ During the trial, the judge had decreed that I was to be put to death for endangering everyone on the island with my reckless behavior. I had released Thermock, and she had, for all intents and purposes, killed three demigods. I was laying on my bed on death row now. I knew what I did was wrong, and I was ready to die for what I did. Then, Thermock appeared in front of me. ¡°Have you come to gloat?¡± I said. ¡°Gloat?¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t need to gloat. I know what I took from you, and I feel satisfied with my prize.¡± ¡°My naivete,¡± I said. ¡°It is gone, and I would rather die than live on like this.¡± ¡°Like what?¡± said Thermock. ¡°I just feel so bitter,¡± I said. ¡°Everything feels old and pointless. I hate it. I hate being alive. What¡¯s the point of it all?¡± I could see by the look in her eyes that Thermock was experiencing quite the opposite. ¡°Let me help you,¡± she said, reaching out. ¡°You?¡± I said. ¡°You can help me by letting me die.¡± ¡°No,¡± said Thermock, ¡°I am going to help you escape.¡± ¡°No!¡± I screamed. Suddenly, blind rage overwhelmed me. I swung my mighty fist at Thermock, but she dispersed into a swarm of bees, and my hand struck the cell wall, breaking the blocks there. Sunlight shone through the hole in the wall. The sea rolled and lapped against the beach. My prison was on the shore. Thermock bid me go. I tried to follow her across the ocean, but I could not find her. I ran to Derek¡¯s place. The guards were after me by then. I found him in the basement. I double locked the door behind me. ¡°Derek,¡± I said, ¡°She has escaped across the sea. Please, help me to track Thermock.¡± My former master shoved a book of magick tracking in my face. ¡°Go,¡± he said. ¡°Take the book and begone. I don¡¯t owe you anything anymore.¡± I ran back up the stairs. I ran through town and hid out until night, when I commandeered a ship and rowed across the sea, book in hand, in search of Thermock. I would recapture my naivete. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XII The Legend of Bun and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor ¡°And that¡¯s my story,¡± said Cao Nyut to Bun, ¡°about how I left the Island Citadel of Sot and came to this strange land of forests, freshwater rivers, and peculiar Cannesians who are not destroyed by my Shining Yellow Blast of Cynicism.¡± Bun was silent for a long time. At last, he said, ¡°whatever became of Derek.¡± ¡°I know not,¡± said Cao Nyut. ¡°I have traveled far from the land of my birth, nor do I believe I am welcome there anymore. Perhaps he has moved on. I hope with all my heart that he is happy.¡± ¡°But you are not happy,¡± said Bun, examining the pachyderm. ¡°Oh, no,¡± said Cao Nyut, shaking his enormous head miserably, ¡°I cannot be happy. I am all alone, full of feelings which are jaded and cynical. Nor do I have anywhere to go, master Bun, no house to call home. I only travel the lands in search of Thermock, she who stole my childlike innocence and left me like this.¡± They were quiet for a time. Then, suddenly, Bun perked up. ¡°You know, the road is my home,¡± he said. ¡°Is it?¡± said Cao Nyut. ¡°Yes. I have chosen a life of adventure. You only live once, you know, and I have learned that many people live their entire lives without so much as setting foot outside the things they already know. These people are dark, Cao Nyut, for there is no light shining inside. Understand that light is the brilliance of new things.¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. These words felt right and true to Bun. Although he had never before spoken them, he had felt them throughout his whole entire life, and now that they had escaped his lips, he felt joyful, cathartic. Oh my Gods, he narrated privately, I believe I am finding myself. Yes, this is who I am. But Cao Nyut just stared. ¡°You choose this life?¡± he said. ¡°I have chosen it,¡± said Bun. ¡°Everyone in my village was dark. I felt that then. There was no movement. Life in the tribe was like being a fish in stagnant water. And if it weren¡¯t for Choggo, I may never have been so lucky as to taste fresh water in all my life.¡± And so Bun, he of the seafoam eyes and sandy hair, told his story to Cao Nyut. By the time he was finished, it was dark, and Cao Nyut showed him how to make a fire by first capturing, and then summoning fields of energy which are always present in the air. It was a small trick, but Bun was amazed. ¡°I didn¡¯t know I could do magick!¡± he said, ¡°if only Choggo could see this!¡± and for the first time, he felt a pang of homesickness. He rejected this pang, however. He was a traveler. That was his identity, now. Cao Nyut nodded serenely. ¡°There is much we can do that we are not yet aware of. Bun, I want to ask you a question.¡± They were eating meat from Cao Nyut¡¯s pouch. Bun chewed, then asked what the question was. ¡°Would you like to come with me to find and capture Thermock?¡± Bun, who had nowhere else to go, agreed. The next morning, they started off on their journey together. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XIII Cao Nyut taught Bun spells and enchantments, the likes of which have long since vanished from our world. From here, the stories diverge. Different peoples have different traditions. The Lomm Cao, one of the hill tribes of the Northern Ranges, tell a story about how Cao Nyut taught Bun a special incantation of endurance, which he promptly cast on himself and the pachyderm. They then climbed the Tallest Mountain in the World, the Lomm Cao Pin, and defeated a terrible monster there, making the Northern Ranges safe for inhabitation. Another tradition comes from the Mookh Yabu, an ancient people, now extinct, who once inhabited the verdant delta, not a week¡¯s journey by foot from where you now stand. The Mookh Yabu were wise rivermasters. Evidence has come down to us that the Mookh Yabu were irrigators, resevoir diggers, and weir builders. Their mythology, too, ties them to the sea. As the Mookh Yabu had it, Cao Nyut and the Legendary Bun took on a quest from Shinu, Mistress of the Mookh Yabu Pantheon. Shinu was angry with the her husband, The Sky Father, because he always chased the moon from horizon to horizon instead of paying attention to his children, who were getting burned from his damaging rays due to his negligence. Indeed, The Sky Father ignored The Queen, all the Gods, and all of his children; and all of Cannesia suffered drought and famine. Now, Shinu had heard of Bun and Cao Nyut¡¯s adventures, for by then they had already made themselves famous with many exploits. So she called on them to help; however, they humbly refused. ¡°How can we go against The Sky Father?¡± they said, ¡°He Who Watches All?¡± ¡°He watches nothing,¡± spat Queen Shinu, ¡°he only has eyes for the moon, whom he watches from horizon to horizon.¡± Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Yet Bun and Cao Nyut, however worthy they might have been to help Queen Shinu, felt meek, and so they sheepishly refused. Shinu came up with a plan. She decided to lure Bun and Cao Nyut into a river with the Flower of Ishdanwal, the petals of which were pink satin, the stigma of which was bright and yellow like an egg yolk, the stem and leaves of which glowed like cuts of precious emerald. The distant wind carried the Flower of Ishdanwal¡¯s scent to Bun¡¯s and Cao Nyut¡¯s noses¨Cthe sweetest, thickest, most fragrant aroma, and it intoxicated them. So soothed, they marveled at The Flower of Ishdanwal, and, once under its spell, Shinu, Mistress of the Mookh Yabu Pantheon, bade them to travel down the River Driveway of Clow Morrokh, the God of Rain, who had gone to sleep ever since the Sky Father started ignoring everyone. Bun and Cao Nyut traveled dorn the River Driveway, facing four monsters along the way. First they faced Saddith, the two-headed snake of wind and water. While Saddith chased Bun, who ran nimbly around the boat, Cao Nyut summoned a great ball of earth and hurled it into Saddith, crushing his head of wind. Second, they faced Glongill, a great gilled eel with two arms and four legs. Glongill attacked them by capsizing their boar in the middle of the night, exposing the two adventurers to all the monsters of the Clow Morrokh¡¯s River Driveway. ¡°How dare you intrude on my master¡¯s river highway?¡± hissed Glongill. But Bun leaped out of the water, climbed up its leg, hopped over its great back, and stabbed it in the back of the neck before whispering in its ear, ¡°Shinu, Queen of the Gods, has bid us to summon your master, to save the earth. The crops are burning. Her children are dry. We need his help.¡± But Glongill only fought tenaciously on, so Bun killed him, and they carried on. Third was a nameless thing, a creature of the mists. It first appeared all around the boat, making faces at him in the light and shadows all around, a ubiquitous, low-hanging cloud of gloom. For three days and three nights, it hung down over the boat, whispering to the pair of travelers that they were lost, that they should turn around and go back. More than once, Bun tried to run foolishly away, but Cao Nyut held him fast. Finally, at the dawn of the fourth day, it finally disappeared. Fourth and finally was the Shishmash, a terrible hundred-headed serpent as tall as a mountain. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XIV Shishmash stomped on the river and breathed fire, turning the water into steam. Shishmash exhaled the steam, then cooled it down to water with his sharp claws, which were made of an enchanted metal which is always cold. Next, Shishmash churned the water with the tips of his claws, hardening it into frigid ice, and slammed it over Cao Nyut¡¯s head. Cao Nyut fell unconscious. Shishmash then held Bun underwater, inside his fist, until the boy was frozen inside a chunk of ice. Only his head was out in the air. His cheeks were bright red, and his hair and eyebrows were sleek with frost. ¡°How dare you come here?¡± said Shishmash. ¡°How dare you enter my master¡¯s, domain, unbidden?¡± ¡°We come at the behest of Shinu, Mistress of the Gods, who has sent us to ask Clow Morrokh to bring clouds and rain back to the earth, to stop The Sky Father from burning the planet alive. His children are starving. Please.¡± Shishmash saw that Bun was trembling but unafraid. The great monster observed the boy for a long time. At last, he spoke. ¡°Very well,¡± he said, ¡°I admire your courage. Wait here.¡± Shishmash disappeared behind a giant waterfall that was twice as tall as he was. The giant monster parted the falling water like curtains and disappeared into the dark cave beyond. While Shishmash was gone, Bun roused Cao Nyut. ¡°You have fought bravely,¡± said Bun. ¡°Thanks to your bravery, and to mine, Shishmash has rewarded us. He has gone back into his cave behind the Great Waterfall to summon Clow Morrokh, the Rain God.¡± This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Cao Nyut sighed with relief as Bun helped him to his feet. They waited at the foot of the Great Waterfall for Shishmash to return with his master. All at once, the light all around them dimmed, and a great rain began to fall. A shape emerged from the rain. It was the outline of a man. Behind him, Shishmash knelt on its knees, its forehead pressed against the earth in submission. ¡°Who are these miserable worms to come and disturb me in my sleep?¡± ¡°I am Bun, the wandering boy, and this is Cao Nyut, the Pachyderm from the Island Citadel of Sot. We came here to ask you to bring rain back to the world. Cannesia is dry. The Sky Father no longer cares for his children. He only has eyes for the moon, whom he chases across the sky, from horizon to horizon, without stopping.¡± Clow Morrokh shook his head. ¡°It is sad that The Sky Father has forgotten his children. Very well. I will reward your bravery by bringing rain back to Cannesia.¡± With that, the rain god emerged from his seclusion and brought clouds into the sky, and it rained, and Cannesia was saved from drought and famine. After that, The Sky Father became angry, because Shinu, Mistress of the Gods, had conspired to undermine his authority, and he took his anger out on Bun and Cao Nyut. But that is another story altogether. But this story is not about The Sky Father. Nor is it about Shinu, Clow Morrokh, or any of the Old Gods of the Mookh Yabu. Indeed, The Legend of Bun takes many forms. Depending on which mythology you look at, you get tens of different stories. But, as I am sure you have already noticed, this story is called The Legend of Bun and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor, and so next I will tell you the tale of the Murkhlings, as once was told by the Wing Tribes, a semi-nomadic people who lived along the outskirts of the Kaeid Desert. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XIV Bun and Cao Nyut traveled from land to land in search of Thermock. They found some adventures, and at other times, misadventures found them. But finally, one day, Cao Nyut announced that he felt they were nearing the end of their journey. ¡°Thermock is close,¡± he said, ¡°I can feel her chaotic, self-serving energy.¡± Then, suddenly, as if by command, Thermock appeared in front of their very eyes. She took the form of a pachyderm, for she was a shapeshifter, and she said, ¡°you have followed me to this place. Idiots.¡± Cao Nyut stomped his heavy foot. ¡°Give me my innocence back,¡± he said, ¡°it wasn¡¯t yours to take.¡± ¡°Idiot,¡± Thermock said, ¡°you can never have it back. Even if you kill me and take it by force, your mind already knows how to be jaded. There¡¯s no going back, no matter what.¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. But Cao Nyut knew Thermock was a liar and a cheat, so he was not willing to listen to her. ¡°Seize her,¡± Cao Nyut commanded. Bun leaped at Thermock, unsheathing a long silver dagger (which he had won as a reward for completing a dangerous quest for a metalsmith¡¯s daughter, but that is another tale for another day). But Thermock was nimble, and she easily danced around Bun¡¯s clumsy strikes, and, when the boy was exhausted, she pushed him down into the dirt and laughed. ¡°Idiots,¡± Thermock said again. ¡°How far do you dare chase me for this lost piece of your soul?¡± Then, suddenly, without further warning, Thermock shapeshifted into a small burrowing creature with soft fur and large black eyes. Using this form, she used her claws to dig a hole in the earth. Cao Nyut was beside himself. ¡°After her!¡± he cried, and the pair followed her into the mysterious underground catacombs as closely as they dared. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XV Bun and Cao Nyut followed Thermock into the tunnels she dug deep into the core of Cannesia, where all was dark and silent¡­at least, at first. Cao Nyut cast a spell of illumination to light the way. On the first day, they went below the outer crust to the first inner layer of earth, where only worms and roots survive. On the second day, Thermock reappeared, taunting them. Bun and Cao Nyut chased her down to the second layer of earth, where all the precious gems and metal come from. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. On the third day, Bun and Cao Nyut followed Thermock¡¯s trail down to the third level of Cannesia¡¯s core, where ancient monsters dwell, who were once banished from the surface world. Through a combination of guile and stealth, Bun and Cao Nyut managed to avoid getting killed while navigating through the third level of the planet. They emerged unscathed. On the fourth day of their pursuit, Bun and Cao Nyut followed Thermock¡¯s trail down to the Land of the Unmade, where half-finished thoughts of men, women, gods, and monsters morph into vengeful, contemplative, incomplete energy, conglomerations of thirsty power which fly around, taking glee in torturing each other for eternity. These spirits nearly drove Bun and Cao Nyut mad, but they persevered, following Thermock at last to the innermost layer of the Cannesian earth: the Core of Darkness, Shandapidoor, where the Murkhlings dwell. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XVI May, Keeper of the Mutes There was a haunted playground. The floor there was covered in powdery soot. Everything was dark down there in Shandapidoor, but the dust coming off the floor somehow managed to be especially dark. And it smelled burned, like old charcoal. The playground was little more than a few sets of broken down swings and slides. There was a pole in the middle of the playground. A string floated around the pole. A decapitated head grinned dumbly down at them, rotating on its string around the pole. There were patches of purple grass with phosphorescent leaves which blew on the air, despite the fact that there was no wind. The darkness was stale and warm. Then, out of the gloom, four figures in white cloaks approached Bun and Cao Nyut. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Who are you?¡± said Bun. He was afraid, but he put on his bravest face and dug his heels in. It was easy to make brave faces and dig your heels in when you knew a huge pachyderm was standing behind you, ready to fend off any attacks which came your way. Despite Bun¡¯s show of courage, the four figures in white cloaks carried on in his direction. Their cloaks were ragged, and their woven fabric glowed as if by some eerie inner light. ¡°Who are you?¡± Bun said again, louder this time. He felt Cao Nyut shift behind him and knew his friend was readying a spell in self-defense. Then a fifth figure approached, seeming to materialize from the darkness. ¡°They are the mute ones,¡± said the fifth figure. ¡°And who are you?¡± said Bun. His voice wavered, but he kept his place in the sooty ground. ¡°I am called May,¡± said the figure. May pulled the hood of its cloak back over its head. Underneath was a white skull which radiated sickly greenish-white light. ¡°I am she who speaks for them. I am also called Oracle, Seer, and Keeper of the Mutes.¡± Slowly, as if her back would break from the act, May bowed low to the ground. Then she straightened up to her full height. ¡°At your service.¡± The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XVII Bun and Cao Nyut looked at May, then exchanged a glance. ¡°Did you say you were an oracle?¡± Bun said. ¡°Indeed I did, little one,¡± said May. Behind her, the floating head bobbed around in the darkness. ¡°What is an oracle?¡± said Bun. ¡°An oracle is someone who can divine potentiality.¡± ¡°Potentiality?¡± Bun said. ¡°What is that?¡± ¡°Potentiality is that which is yet to be, but may come to pass,¡± said May, ever grinning with her sickly greenish-white teeth. ¡°You mean you can tell the future?¡± Bun said. ¡°I can see what may yet come to pass,¡± said May. Bun clapped his hands. ¡°Where are we,¡± he said excitedly. ¡°Shandapidoor,¡± said May, ¡°but you don¡¯t need an oracle to tell you that. The present is already decided. Case in point: here you are, in Shandapidoor. Living proof. My, how boring.¡± ¡°What is Shandapidoor?¡± said Bun, licking his lips. ¡°Now, Bun,¡± Cao Nyut chided, ¡°I think you are missing the point.¡± He cleared his throat, put his hand on Bun¡¯s slim shoulder, and stepped forward. ¡°Oracle May,¡± he said, addressing the skeletal figure. ¡°Just May,¡± said the oracle, ¡°please.¡± The lone head, bobbing up in the darkness behind her, giggled to itself as if she had just said something funny. ¡°Fine, May,¡± said Cao Nyut. ¡°Perhaps you can help us. We are looking for a creature who escaped my master¡¯s laboratory in the Citadel of Sot. She is Thermock, a no-good troublemaker. We have been on her trail for many months, and now we have finally tracker her down to Shandapidoor, this dark place at the core of Cannesia. I have read about Shandapidoor in books, but I had never thought to step foot here.¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°What help do you need?¡± asked May, rolling her neck so that it cracked. Bun, who did not understand what was going on, shoved his hands in his pockets, put his head down, and started walking around in circles. ¡°I need to know if you have seen Thermock,¡± said Cao Nyut. ¡°I divine possibility,¡± said May. ¡°Possibility lies in the future, not in the past. Like the present, the past is already decided.¡± May yawned. ¡°How boring.¡± ¡°Yet you may know her,¡± Cao Nyut went on, ¡°she is small and yellow, or, er, sometimes she takes different forms. Actually, she could have looked like anything.¡± ¡°For all we know, she could be you,¡± said May. Bun heard her and stopped pacing. He looked up at Cao Nyut. May turned to the boy and said, ¡°Now there is an intriguing possibility.¡± Bun glanced at Cao Nyut with a look that was half bewilderment, half anxiety. In response, Cao Nyut only flared his double trunk in annoyance. ¡°Now look here, you witch,¡± he said, pointing, ¡°I will not have you poison this boy with lies.¡± ¡°But how do we know it¡¯s not you?¡± May replied. ¡°How do we know you¡¯re not Thermock?¡± At that, the floating head reared back and honked with sudden laughter as if it had just heard a very funny joke. ¡°If you will not answer, we will be on our way,¡± said Cao Nyut. ¡°Come along, Bun.¡± But Bun stayed. ¡°Are you Thermock?¡± he said. ¡°Oh dimwitted one,¡± said Cao Nyut, sighing, ¡°you are fast, and dextrous, and brave, but you are not very smart. Of course, I am Cao Nyut, your traveling companion. I have been the very same Cao Nyut ever since we started traveling together all those months ago. I have not left your side since then. So please, do not ask me such questions.¡± ¡°What about when you walked away to bathe, or to go to the toilet?¡± ¡°Bun,¡± said Cao Nyut, still tenderly. ¡°Or maybe you were Thermock the whole time, ever since we met, conspiring to bring us down here to this dark place, to the pits of Cannesia, to this hell, where you can kill me and feed me to that witch¨C¡± The floating head was laughing, now, hysterically, shrieking, gasping, sloppily, in a fit, as if it had just heard the most hilarious joke of its life. ¡°What are you talking about, Bun? What madness has come over you?¡± May looked on serenely. Meanwhile, the Mute Ones inched silently in, closing a ring around the playground, encircling them. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XVIII Suspicion The Mute Ones stood in a circle. Holding hands, they walked inward, closing the circle, trapping Bun and Cao Nyut inside. This alarmed Cao Nyut, who looked left and right, forward and back, in search of an escape route. As for Bun, the witch, May, was affecting his mind. There was something wrong with him. Cao Nyut saw how Bun¡¯s eyes shifted. He saw the wary glint in Bun¡¯s eyes as he looked up at the one who he had always called his friend. Now there was something wrong with the boy. Bun¡¯s seafoam colored eyes were dull. Where was the shine, the warm regard, the recognition in Bun¡¯s beautiful blue-green eyes? What was this dark spell which had, all of a sudden, nulled the boy¡¯s sparkling vitality? ¡°Prove you are not Thermock,¡± said Bun, his smooth face a stern monolith. ¡°Bun,¡± Cao Nyut said, ¡°snap out of it.¡± Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°Yes,¡± said May, ¡°let him prove himself.¡± The pachyderm sighed. ¡°What would you have me do?¡± he said. Suddenly, a wind rose up across the dead air in the dark playground of Shandapidoor. The head on the stick started laughing; at that, the wind picked up, ruffling the cloaks of the Mute Ones, who seemed, somehow, to sing wordlessly on that rising draft of air, a cerebral hum that Cao Nyut heard in his mind, and fought against; but Bun, when he heard that humming, embraced it, snatching that note out of the wind and humming aloud alongside it. The tuft of hair on top of his head ruffled too, and soon it seemed that that whipping tempest was rocking his whole body and mind. Bun slitted his eyes at Cao Nyut. ¡°You are the shapeshifter,¡± he said, ¡°I should have known all along. But my eyes are open now. You were the Thermock all along.¡± ¡°Bun,¡± said Cao Nyut, but his companion did not hear him; the only answer that the pachyderm got was that awful cackling sound coming from the decapitated head above, and the growing roar of the whipping wind all around. Suddenly, without warning, Bun unsheathed his short sword from its scabbard. With a wild cry, he lunged at Cao Nyut, the tip of his blade pointed straight ahead. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XIX Cao Nyut leaped back from Bun¡¯s pointed blade. ¡°Bun, snap out of it!¡± The boy¡¯s momentum carried him past his target. For his part, Cao Nyut stood back, wanting only to dodge his friend¡¯s attacks. The pachyderm was much bigger than his companion. He didn¡¯t want to hurt the boy. Bun staggered, stepping hard to slow his momentum. He pivoted, swinging his blade around as he faced Cao Nyut. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, Thermock,¡± said the boy. ¡°Liar, shapeshifter.¡± Again, he lunged in with his blade. Cao Nyut batted the blade away with his forearm, but not before Bun¡¯s blade drew a line of blood in his skin. The wound was superficial, but the sight of his own blood galvanized the pachyderm. Above them, the bodiless head kept on laughing. Around them, the Mute Ones tightened their chain. Cao Nyut cried out a peal of frustration. He balled his hands into fists, squeezing them so hard that they shook. Instantly, they crackled with yellow electricity. Lightning streaks puttered around his knuckles. ¡°Yes,¡± said May, grinning. ¡°Stop the troublesome child.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Shining Yellow Blast of Cynicism,¡± Cao Nyut issued, ¡°engulf !¡± The ball of crackling light around his fists exploded. The wave of destruction blew out, flattening the Playground of Shandapidoor. May screamed. The violent press of wind plucked her head from her shoulders by the neck like the bulk of a flower by the stem. The bones of the Mute Ones disintegrated in the blast, their empty robes rocketing out into the darkness like pierced balloons. The eyes of the decapitated head exploded. Blind and screaming, it spiraled up and out into the darkness of Shandapidoor. Bun and Cao Nyut were left gasping at each other. When they caught their breath, they exchanged a grin. At last, Cao Nyut said, ¡°I still don¡¯t know why my Shining Yellow Blast of Cynicism doesn¡¯t affect you.¡± ¡°I think I know,¡± said Bun, ¡°it¡¯s because I¡¯m so optimistic. It makes me immune. But something just now¡­about that fight¡­about the paranoia that May screwed into my mind back there¡­it made me feel a little less innocent than before. I don¡¯t like it, Cao Nyut.¡± ¡°I know how you feel,¡± said Cao Nyut. ¡°I know you do. Come on, let¡¯s find Thermock. We¡¯re getting closer to her every moment. I can feel it. If we find her, we might be able to wrest your naivete, which she has wrongfully stolen from your soul, back from her.¡± So, in search of Thermock, Bun and Cao Nyut journeyed further on, past the playground, and into the deeper darkness of Shandapidoor. The duo felt ready for anything, but it wasn¡¯t long before another unexpected encounter took them by surprise. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XX The darkness had no form. Bun and Cao Nyut walked forward in the darkness, but without any objects to see passing them by, there was no sense of movement. They felt their bodies moving, but there was no other sensory proof of it. This went on for some time. At first, they made nervous small talk, but after a while, they eased into it. This was the new normal. Silent darkness, and vast vacuous spaces, were the matters of fact in Shandapidoor. Then, the space in front of them started to fold. It started with a gasp of air¨Csucked forward¨Cit propelled them off their feet¨Cthey felt themselves pop through the fold in space, and emerge in a dimly lit cavern. There was a tall mound before them, at least as tall as Cao Nyut. Bun and Cao Nyut were able to see the mound because of the glowing mushroom on top of it. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. The mushroom was pale blue. ¡°Where are we?¡± said Bun. ¡°I know not,¡± said Cao Nyut, ¡°but I would advise against moving about until we have answered that question.¡± By the light of the pale blue mushroom atop the mound of dirt, Bun saw a river flowing around it. The duo exchanged a glance, the pachyderm frowning down at his young friend, Bun looking excitedly up at his loyal partner. ¡°What is it?¡± said Bun. A line creased Cau Nyut¡¯s forehead. ¡°I know not.¡± ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± said Bun. ¡°Have a care,¡± said Cao Nyut, but Bun was already approaching the mound. The boy stepped into the river. It soaked into his shoes and socks, its water cool and fresh against his ankles. Bun emerged on the far bank of the river and started to climb the mound. ¡°Bun,¡± warned Cao Nyut. ¡°I won¡¯t be a moment,¡± said the boy, ¡°I just want to see what it is.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know if it¡¯s safe,¡± said Cao Nyut, but it was too late. Bun was already halfway up the mound when Cao Nyut saw a second light flick on from behind the mound, at an angle which Bun would not have been able to see. There was something else in this cavern with them. It was not making a sound, but Cao Nyut was certain it was heading straight for Bun. The pachyderm called out to his younger companion, but it was too late. Bun was headstrong and naive, and his partner¡¯s cries of warning went unheeded. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XXI Bun had almost climbed to the top of the mound when a sinewy gray arm reached around and snatched his wrist. Taken completely by surprise, Bun screamed. Having lost his balance, he scrabbled for purchase, disturbing the rubble to which he clung. But he could not have fallen; the hand held him fast. ¡°Bun!¡± cried Cao Nyut. Abandoning his caution, the giant pachyderm leaped into the cold river, splashing water on either shore. With a second mighty leap, he stood on the far bank, his fists bunched and at the ready. But there was no target. Yes¨Csomething had taken hold of Bun, a little gray creature¨Cbut Cao Nyut could not strike out at it. The little gray creature held Bun up as a shield. It held the boy¡¯s arm up behind his back, threatening to snap the arm if it felt displeased with the intruders¡¯ behavior. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Cao Nyut took a deep breath. He talked himself down from the worst of his anger: ¡°easy,¡± he said, ¡°easy.¡± He reminded himself that they were the intruders. Even though they had no idea how they had come to this part of Shandapidoor, it was clearly the home of this strange little creature, and it was only fair that it felt threatened by the newcomers. Cao Nyut opened his hands in a gesture of goodwill. ¡°We come in peace,¡± he said. ¡°Fools,¡± said the little gray creature. As if its bones were suddenly made of liquid, it started to change shape. It grew, its muscles broadening, its legs lengthening. Two glowing gems formed in its head. They were blue. These were its eyes, Cao Nyut saw. As the creature grew in height, Bun was lifted higher and higher off the damp floor, until he was dangling a hundred feet over the tip of the pale blue mushroom. ¡°Cao Nyut!¡± he cried. Behind him, the enormous gray creature growled deep inside its massive chest. Cao Nyut, who was used to being the biggest one in the room, braced himself for something he had never experienced before. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XXII In just three beats of a heart, the gray creature holding Bun had grown into a towering monstrosity, so much so that Bun wondered, of all things to wonder at a time like this: How has the tip of its head not grown up to such a height as to graze the ceiling? If there is a ceiling down here, in the dark depths of Shandapidoor, this land where thoughts go to die. Bun was right, on both counts, to wonder. For one thing, the gray creature had grown at first as tall as any man-made building, then as tall as the tallest Min La tree, then at last even as tall as Mt. Circlet, the tallest mountain in all the world, the bleary, snow-capped peak of which no mortal has ever climbed both ways. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. The enormous gray giant clutched Bun in its fist, brought him up to its face, and shook. Bun expected it to scream into his face, or perhaps to scarf him down like a snack. But the monster only shook. As soon as the shock of that fear faded, a new terror surfaced: Bun realized he was countless meters up in the air. He promptly vomited all over the giant¡¯s knuckles. Twice more, he wretched loudly, but nothing came out. When he looked down, he saw something strange down there, far below him in the darkness. It was a faint yellow glow. The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XXIII Cao Nyut traced his fingers across the silken darkness. Golden-yellow lines glimmerd in their wake. With a flourish, the pachyderm curved his thumb in a semicircle. Suddenly, he flicked his wrist. The runes were done. Suddenly, the giant gray monstrosity collapsed in on itself. Its legs buckled. It shook its head back in protest, quivering against the inevitable. As quickly as the creature had grown to its tremendous height, it shrank back down to the earth, where Cao Nyut looked at it eye to eye, from his slightly higher vantage point. ¡°Now that¡¯s more like it,¡± he said. Bun, who had fallen as quickly as he had been picked up, promptly vomited again. Cao Nyut looked away while the boy recovered. Then, when he was feeling better, Bun said, ¡°what did you do to save me?¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°I have cast a spell of binding upon it,¡± Cao Nyut said simply, as if it were not really a big deal at all. ¡°You saved my life,¡± said Bun. ¡°Indeed,¡± said Cao Nyut. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t celebrate just yet,¡± came a voice from behind the veil of darkness. ¡°Who goes there?¡± Bun shouted, ¡°show yourself.¡± A cloaked figure emerged so that the lower half of his features were visible by the glow of the runes. His features were rugged, and masculine, with a knobby horn of a nose, and a square jawline, which was meaty, and bereft of fat. Even by the runes¡¯ monochrome hue, even under the shade of his cloak, Bun and Cao Nyut could see that the figure¡¯s skin was a dark red color. ¡°I should be asking you the same,¡± said the figure, ¡°for this is my domain, and that is my Murkhling which you have just bound by your rune magick.¡± The Legend of Bun (and the Murkhlings of Shandapidoor) XXIV ¡°Your Murkhling,¡± said Bun, marveling at the words. ¡°Do you mean to say, that giant gray monster that just picked me up and dropped me down, and made me vomit all over the place¨Cthe one that grew taller than a Min La tree, then taller than Mt. Circlet¨Cwas your servant?¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± said the cloaked figure. ¡°One of many.¡± ¡°And who are you, who is so powerful as to command enormous beasts of burden?¡± said Cao Nyut. The cloaked man turned to the pachyderm. ¡°They call me the Skulking One. I am The Pit, the Dark Diamond, the Driving Nail. In the Up Above, I was known by those, and by many other magnificent titles. But down here in the darkness, I am simply called The Lord of Shandapidoor. Or was, at least, until very lately.¡± A shiver ran up Cao Nyut¡¯s spine. ¡°The Up Above?¡± Bun said. ¡°Yes indeed, young master. In the other realm, where I once dwelt, at the table with the Gods.¡± ¡°You mena with Great Wandering Machuck, and Prahbatlu, The Sky Whale? And Demicort, she of the Molten Fist?¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Incredibly, the cloaked man¡¯s mouth appeared to smirk. ¡°Demicort was there, sure enough,¡± he said. ¡°Machuck was never one for staying home, though I¡¯ve met her once or twice. Nice enough lady, though cold, a bit distant, as if she were always stuck there in her own little world.¡± Even Cao Nyut, the more reserved of the duo, was openly gaping, now. ¡°Just who are you?¡± said Bun, ¡°I mean, really?¡± ¡°Would you have me tell you my tale?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± said Bun and Cao Nyut in unison. It was true, they both desperately wanted to know. ¡°But first,¡± said Cao Nyut, ¡°at the risk of pressing you, Lord of Shandapidoor, I have to ask you one more question.¡± ¡°Ask,¡± said the Lord. ¡°Have you come into contact with a creature called Thermock? For Thermock¡¯s capture is our whole reason for being down here in the first place, and if you have any information about her, I would hear it.¡± ¡°Indeed, I have had contact with Thermock,¡± said the Lord of Shandapidoor, ¡°and that spoony charlatan has all but dethroned me. My very life may be in danger. But it has been so long since anyone has lent me a set of ears, as it gets ever so lonely down here. And, as Thermock is part of my tale, would you not hear me out to the end?¡± Bun and Cao Nyut agreed, and the Lord of Shandapidoor told his tale. The Lords Tale I: From Humble Roots The Lords Speaks I was not always the Lord of Shandapidoor. Seven hundred thousand years ago¨Cor once upon a time, if you like¨CI was a minor god, known as the god of triangles. I lived in the House of Heaven, where the beds and carpets are clouds, and the air is thick and pleasant like a nourishing fog. And I sat at the Table of Heaven, too, which was situated in the hall of glittering rubies, where Imgaggu painted fantastic feasts with her mind, and every evening, we dined on her creations. And we entertained ourselves in the Opal Colosseum, where we summoned thoughts, by force of our own will, and where we pitted those aspects against one another, just to see which one held on. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. We, the gods, played with the very fabric of reality. We were masters of the universe. Yet I had no real power. None to speak of, anyway. At least, that was how it seemed at the time. Give me this much credit: I really was at the bottom of the pyramid of power in heaven, and I didn¡¯t know that all the other places outside of heaven were worse. All I knew was that everyone seemed to have great powers except for me. Even poor Millagua, who was the living avatar of stasis, used to get woken up every once in a while. As the god of stasis, Millagua was not able to move on his own. His skin blue, his lips black, his eyes closed, Millagua always looked like he was dead. But he wasn¡¯t dead; he was simply stopped. And, as I was saying, even poor Millagua came out now and then. Ishhakhu, the goddess of kinetic perpetuity, who was married to Millagua, could wake Millagua up when she had a mind to do it. And boy, was Millagua funny. He¡¯d be asleep for hundreds of years, and then all of a sudden just pick up where he left off, even if he was in mid-sentence when Isshakhu last let him go. You might think that Isshakhu was cruel for just waking up Millagua whenever she wanted to. But you wouldn¡¯t think that if you knew the whole story about Isshakhu and Millagua. The Lords Tale II: The Romance of Millagua and Isshakhu One time, for her husband¡¯s millionth birthday, Isshakhu gifted Millagua a magnificent chunk of amber the size of a fist, which she affixed to a pendant. ¡°This,¡± Isshakhu promised, ¡°will keep you awake and moving forever and ever, my dearest love.¡± Amazingly, her enchanted pendant of amber worked like, well, a charm. And the couple was never happier. Millagua and Isshakhu spent a lot of time together. Weeks turned into months, years, and decades. The decades rolled into centuries. Eventually, Millagua started leaving the house late at night. Growing suspicious, Isshakhu followed Millagua out of the house one night. She trailed him across the heavens, through a cosmic port hole, and into the domain of Cannesia, where he soared down from the blue dome of the sky to the Island Citadel of Sot. There, Isshakhu watched as Millagua lay down with Meranda, a maiden demigod who waited for Millagua in an isolated hut at the edge of the island. When Isshakhu saw them rutting, she crept into the room. So loud was Meranda¡¯s moaning and Millagua¡¯s grunting that they didn¡¯t hear her come in. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Finally she snuck under the bed and waited. Just before Millagua¡¯s point of orgasm, Isshakhu leaped into sight and snatched the amber rock, which hung from around Millagua¡¯s neck like a pendant. Immediately, her husband froze. She brought him back to heaven just so: a figure frozen just before his peak, with the most ridiculous look on his face. All the gods in heaven laughed and laughed. Millagua was a laughingstock for years and years. Finally, when Isshaku had had enough, she gathered all the gods and courtiers of heaven to the Opal Colosseum for an after-dinner party. When all the guests were ready, Isshaku returned her gift of amber to her husband. Millagua unfroze, and immediately experienced an intense, uncontrollable orgasm: ¡°Don¡¯t Sto¡ª?¡± he said, inflecting his tone upwards, as if in question, as he realized in a moment of horror that, not only had he been found out, but everyone he knew was watching and laughing at him. Isshaku chose that moment to withdraw her gift of amber from Millagua. That look of mingled horror and embarrassment, combined with his erection, which was frozen in time, seemed to her the perfect place to let him rest. Then, for hundreds of years thereafter, any time a god or courtier passed Millagua¡¯s frozen body standing there in the Opal Colosseum, they all shouted, ¡°sto¨C?¡± The Lords Tale III: The Seed of Isshakhu and Millagua Millagua¡¯s marriage to Isshakhu was a fire that burned bright and beautiful, but when the flames died down, the coals left on the fireplace were ugly. Even so, there are many temples in Cannesia dedicated to the iconic duo. There¡¯s even a small city on an island in the distant west where the cult of Millagua and Issakhu lives, even today. Khom, as the island is called, is where Isshakhu brought Millagua to take his seed and impregnate herself. Unfortunately for Millagua, he was unconscious for the entire ordeal. That is why, when he was woken up ten hundred years later, he was surprised to find that he had a son. His son¡¯s name was Siyn, and Siyn woke up his father by stealing into his mother''s enchanted jewelry room and returning the amber necklace to Millagua. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. You see, Siyn was insecure about his father''s reputation. The fact was, all through Siyn''s life, the gods ridiculed Millagua right to his frozen face, and right in front of his son, who had never even known the man, save for embarrassing stories told by Isshakhu when the mood took her. Worse was that she increasingly told her stories in the company of romantic suitors, who laughed on in front of Siyn''s unknowing father. Worse still was that Siyn''s mother had eventually gone and chosen Ziph, who was her favorite suitor, and now Siynh found himself sharing his personal space with two bratty half-sisters. Well, enough was enough. The shame had been too much to bear. Siyn broke into his mother''s quarters, burgled her enchanted amber necklace, and promptly woke his father up. The Lords Tale IV: How Millagua Met his Son Millagua Meets His Son When his son put the amber jewelry over Millagua¡¯s neck, the god who was frozen in time suddenly opened his eyes with a start. He had taken Millagua across the celestial city to a remote castle which, though renovated and clean, was mostly unused, and had fallen into general disrepair. The castle was pinkish white, and its tiles were marbled gray and blue. This was the opulent scene in which Millagua finally awoke to see Siyn looking right into his eyes. Siynh had his father¡¯s dark lips and high cheekbones; but he had his mother¡¯s fair features, too¨Clarge, latitudinous eyes like a pair of golden sunlit lakes that seemed to glow alight against his dark skin. The face in front of him haunted him. Millagua knew very quickly who was looking back at him. His eyes welled with salt water, and goosebumps rose up on his neck. ¡°I have a son,¡± he said. And Siyn himself quavered. ¡°Father,¡± he said, ¡°it is good to finally meet you.¡± So Siyn told Millagua about everything that had been happening in the centuries since he was born. All the intrigue of the celestial city came to his ears. Slowly, as Millagua listened, he became angry, until finally, he flew into a rage, flipping tables and chairs in the room that Siyn had carefully selected for them because it was secluded from the more populated areas. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. There the boy waited for his father¡¯s wrath to die down. When Millagua¡¯s anger was finally spent, he collapsed on the sofa, panting from the exertion. It was silent momentarily, and then Millagua said, ¡°Thank you for waking me, boy. But what can we do?¡± ¡°You must challenge Ziph, who has taken my mother, and pretends to be my father,¡± said Siyn. At that, Millagua shot up from the sofa as if slapped. He raised a finger at Siyn, glaring at his son, bulging his eyes, revealing red veiny flecks: ¡°Ziph has not taken your mother,¡± said the avatar of stasis, his jowls shaking as if the vibration of his words themselves has caused his flesh to tremble. ¡°Your mother has taken Ziph.¡± ¡°But he acts like my father,¡± said Siyn. That was enough to set Millagua into a fresh rage. He picked up the upset furniture, and one by one, upset it all over again. When he was done, he stood panting again in the middle of the room. ¡°I get no respect,¡± said Siyn, ¡°you have to respect our honor.¡± ¡°What would you have me do,¡± said Millagua. Siyn lowered his voice. ¡°Bettle Ziph at the Opal Colosseum,¡± he said. ¡°Challenge him to a duel.¡± Millagua considered. ¡°For what?¡± he said, ¡°I don¡¯t want your mother back.¡± ¡°For me,¡± said Siyn. ¡°What¡¯s between my parents is not my business. But your responsibility is with me, the child you created, and I am owed honor.¡± Millagua agreed, and within the hour, a courier appeared at Ziph¡¯s doorstep with an invitation to fight to the death. The Lords Tale V: Millagua Plans a Battle to the Death Now, when it came to a fight, Ziph not the kind of man you dismissed. He was built like a concrete dam holding back a wall of riverwater. When he walked, muscles rippled beneath his chalky-white skin. His chin was bony and rounded, and his neck was thick like the trunk of a tree. It was no wonder Isshakhu chose Ziph as a replacement husband, Millagua thought bitterly, as he looked on from his hiding place behind the veil of weeping emeralds. Siynh had urged Millagua to challenge Ziph to a fight ot the death in the Opal Colosseum, but Millagua was an old man and not one to be tricked so easily. Now that he had been woken back up by the enchanted amber pendant that he now wore, he would not be taken back to sleep so easily. In fact, Millagua spent a great deal of time thinking: was revenge really the answer here? It was true that Isshakhu had humiliated him in front of all the gods. She had overreacted, but wasn¡¯t this whole thing his fault to begin with? After all, Millagua was the one who was unfaithful. When Isshakhu had caught him, Millagua had hoped she would forgive him. To his mind, Millagua had loved Isshakhu no less for his unfaithful act ¨C that was just how men were sometimes. He knew Issakhu would be upset. Millagua had assumed that he would be given a chance to earn her trust back. Now here he was plotting his revenge. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Yet, wasn¡¯t this revenge just an inversed form of obsessive love? It was true, love and hate were two sides of the same coin. Once upon a time, Isshakhu had loved Millagua severely. That must have been why she had taken her revenge. Did he now still love her with that same severity, such that he would risk his newfound life to battle her new lover to the death? Millagua withdrew his gaze from Ziph, who was padding barefoot on flat purple stone slabs which formed a wide path along the dragonsnapper wingfish swimming in the Green Pool of Tranquility in the center of the palace garden. He fixed his gaze on his son. ¡°Siyn,¡± he said, ¡°you are the one who woke me from my time-stasis, so if you want me to challenge Ziph, I will do it. But I urge you to reconsider. Although I still love your mother enough to enjoy this passionate violence, I think I would be just as happy to escape the land of gods altogether.¡± ¡°Father,¡± said Siyn. ¡°You could come with me,¡± said Millagua, mulling it over. ¡°We could start our lives anew.¡± But Siyn was full of hot, youthful fire. ¡°No,¡± he said, ¡°I will not run away until the issue is satisfied.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± said Millagua. ¡°After today, whether I win or die at the hands of Ziph, you will have your honor. The gods and courtiers will no longer treat you as a bastard whelp.¡± Siyn bowed his head. ¡°Thank you, father,¡± he said. ¡°After that, if you still want to leave this place, I would gladly join you.¡± But Millagua did not answer. Instead, he looked back at Ziph, who was now walking down the path away from him. The sight of Ziph¡¯s height, frame, and rippling muscles filled Millagua with dread. The Lords Tale VI: A Letter to Ziph It was early morning. The sky had paled, but there were still more than 30 minutes before the sun rose above the line of the horizon. Ziph was in his apartments, stretching his body. A breeze drifted in through the window and cooled his naked skin. Isshakhu was still downstairs. She had slept alone in the Mulberry Chamber. Some nights, Ziph preferred to sleep alone. His dreams were less troubled that way. He had found that his dreams sometimes mingled with those of his lovers. That was not good. A man¡¯s dreams were his own. Ziph looked down at the natural beauty surrounding his high place in the castle. He surveyed the lush forest with its plump trees. His eyes traced the clear rapids which cut through the wood, funneling into a green-blue lake at the foot of the Celestial Hills, where the Opal Colosseum stood, gray in their shadow, ready to first pale, then brighten as the sun would soon rise over them, reaching out with its gold rays, whitening its slab roofing and carved spectator seats to a brilliant ivory. A knock on the chamber door interrupted his thoughts. That must be the tea. ¡°It¡¯s a little early,¡± Ziph called peevishly. ¡°I have a letter,¡± came a voice. That was Rokkah, timid, mousish, but reliable. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°A letter?¡± Said Ziph, pausing. At last, we said, ¡°Slide it under the door.¡± With a light rustling sound, a paper came sliding under the door. Then there was the sound of footsteps plodding away¡ªrather quickly, Ziph thought. What was this? Some sniveling love letter from Isshakhu? She knew not to bother him with such trivialities. Especially not first thing in the morning. Ziph crossed the room, stepping over a colorful woolen oval rug with his enormous bare feet. He approached the door, bent down, and picked up the letter. It read, To Ziph, My son is besmirched, and I am cuckolded, at your hands. As neither he nor I are willing to live with the shame of it any longer, I hereby challenge you to fight to the death. Let us duel in the Opal Colosseum, where all the gods and courtiers can bear witness, and honor us both for our bravery. If you have any honor, you must accept. Should you accept, you need only choose the day and time, and I shall meet you there, for our appointment. I do not hold you personally responsible for the actions which led to my shame. Yet I find this is the only acceptable course of action. Inform me of your decision in your reply. Sincerely, Millagua, God of Time-Stasis The Lords Tale VII: A Letter from Ziph That evening, Millagua was at a rooftop mead bar, sipping honey wine with his son and watching the pastel sunset over the vast ocean. To his back, in the east, he knew the darkness of twilight had already touched the Opal Colosseum. The messenger spirit remained perched on his finger. Siyn fed it a cookie crumb, then shooed it away. It flew out the window and out of sight. Millagua looked down at his glass before returning his gaze to the distant horizon. ¡°Read it again,¡± he said. To Millagua, I accept your duel at the Opal Colosseum and choose the time for dawn on the morrow. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Weapons, to be provided equally to both parties, will include grenades, enchantments, whips, an array of mineral blades, pressure traps, rune-books, and liquid pigment for crafting wards of protection. Each party will be granted a squire. Parties may assemble before dawn to assess the landscape. I am the blooded champion of Thooph-thu. Alone, I have won hundreds of tournaments. As a god-general, I have never lost a battle. Some call me Zedd the Bloodthirsty, while others know me as Frost, The Merciless Fissure. There is no way you can win. Your fate, and family, is already sealed. If you have any honor, I will see you at dawn, as we have agreed. I have heard of you, oh still one. I know of your time-stasis curse. Your old romance is famous, and all the gods know about how you were not able to control your own wife. How can you hope to control me, then, if you couldn¡¯t even keep your own house together? Say your goodbyes. You are not long for this world, Millagua. Ziph The Lords Tale VIII: A Story about Isshakhu Isshakhu was not a bad woman, if I can add my own opinion to the story. I used to run into her from time to time, and there was nothing unethical about her. She had a mischievous personality, as I recall, and another thing was, that she definitely didn¡¯t like being taken advantage of. That¡¯s how it is with a lot of smart people. It¡¯s like they always have to come out on top all the time. I¡¯ll give you an example. Like this one evening, we were at the Table of Heaven. Imgaggu had painted a delicious meal for us with her mind. Usually, you ate her meals with your mouth, but sometimes it went differently, and that was one of those days. The meal entered one¡¯s body through the pores on his, her, or their skin. It was a unique experience. Anyway, after the meal, we all thanked Imgaggu and went on our way, but Isshakhu lingered. She was of higher rank than me, so I was not allowed to leave the Table of Heaven until she got up. As a matter of fact, as the god of kinetic energy, Isshakhu was quite a high-ranking deity, and so by remaining seated at the table, she forced everyone else to sit around and wait for her. This was her little trick, her little bit of harmless mischief for the evening. There was just one little problem. There was no way she could keep up the charade. We all knew what she was up to. She had that stupid smirk on her face, just sitting there pretending everything was normal, just a bunch of minor gods waiting at the table, staring on ahead or making uncomfortable chitchat while Isshakhu held total silent control over the room. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. We knew what she was doing, but there was nothing we could do except wait. And we didn¡¯t have to wait long. If there was one thing Isskakhu despised, it was sitting still. After the first minute, she was starting to fidget. After the second, her whole body was squirming. After the third, she was tapping the table with her dessert spoon, which had remained until then on the tablecloth untouched, as dinner had been an osmotic, more than comsumptive, affair, and there had been no need for silverware. We were all waiting for her to get up. We knew it couldn¡¯t be long. Finally, Eenmmee, one of the higher-ranking gods, whose rank was near, but just under Isshakhu¡¯s, spoke up. ¡°Oh, Isskakhu, why are you being so stubborn, fighting against yourself like that? Just give in, get up. It was a stupid prank, anyway.¡± Isshakhu was so angry about being wrong, about her failed prank, about being called out for it by a lower-ranking god in front of everyone at the Table of Heaven. She bit her lip. Then, furiously, and without saying anything, the goddess of kinetic energy produced a thin notebook with glowing runes scribbled all over its pages. She read the runes aloud, enunciating guttural vowels and bending diphthongs. She ended this show with a flick of her wrist, followed by a flick of her finger, in Eenmmee¡¯s direction. Suddenly, with a great burst of energy, Eenmee flew back out of her chair and out of the room. Her body went streaking across Heaven and into the skies of Cannesia. There she spun around and around, whipping violently until the world¡¯s first cyclone was created. This cyclone eliminated several eldred races of magical beings, ushering in the Third Cannesian Age. Isshakhu watched from her seat at the Table of Heaven. The scene kept her rapt enough to remain seated for five minutes, which is a lot longer in Cannesian time. Finally, when Isshakhu was satisfied with her revenge (or maybe when she got bored), she read another set of runes. Eenmee immediately returned, and no one ever spoke about it again. At least, not in front of Isshakhu. The Lords Tale VIII: Tripunctum Tripunctum Millagua came to the Opal Colosseum to face certain death. Ziph was already there, lifting rocks over his head. Ziph¡¯s physique was perfect. His body intimidated Millagua, who was soft, always more of a pleasure-seeker than a fighter. But it was too late for regret, so Ziph hardened his resolve. This whole thing started because of his son. Siyn was ashamed of his deadbeat father and broken family. Millagua had decided to take responsibility. If seeing a duel would make Siyn feel better, fine. As Millagua fitted a set of sapphire-studded gauntlets enchanted with impact protection, the god of static time wondered, what happens to gods when they die. Becoming frozen in time had always been something similar to death, but he had not gone anywhere. He had only¡­stopped for a while. But now, today, what would become of him when Ziph killed him, as he surely would? Millagua milled through a chest of armor. Two helms interested him: a dark blue one with a visor, and a green one that was exposed in the front. I approached him then, for I was the squire who was chosen to aid Millagua that day. ¡°My lord,¡± I said, ¡°you hold two interesting helms.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Squire,¡± he said, ¡°tell me about them.¡± I pointed to the dark blue one with the visor. ¡°This one is called The Blanket Helm. It prevents you from seeing false. If Ziph casts a trickery spell, your eyes will not deceive you, as long as you wear The Blanket Helm.¡± Millagua nodded. ¡°And this one?¡± he said, indicating the green one that was open in the front. ¡°That, my lord, is a helmet of my own design.¡± ¡°Try not to sound too proud,¡± said Millagua. Yet he seemed amused. I said, ¡°It is called the Tripunctum, lord. I am the deity of triangles, and triangles are the strongest shape. This helm is infused with the power of that shape.¡± Millagua turned it over, observing its design. He frowned. ¡°It is open in the front,¡± he said, ¡°and I do not see a triangle shape. This seems like just an ordinary helmet.¡± ¡°It is an ordinary helmet,¡± I said, ¡°until you press at the temples, here.¡± I pressed, to illustrate. ¡°When you do, if you are wearing the Tripunctum, a protective field will appear in front of you in the shape of a triangle. It is an enchanted field into which you can manifest your thoughts during battle.¡± ¡°Manifest my thoughts,¡± Millagua said. ¡°Yes, my lord. If you are in trouble, you can summon a five-headed Oswolagus to protect you, an unthinking dimwit to fight on your behalf, or a stunning vision of beauty to distract your foe.¡± ¡°Anything I can think of,¡± Millagua said. ¡°Exactly, my lord.¡± Truthfully, I was very proud of the Tripunctum, and I guess it showed. What happened next is a famous story. Everybody knows about it. Millagua should have chosen The Blanket Helm. The Lords Tale VIII: Into the Colosseum Soon everyone had gathered in the Opal Colosseum to watch my lord Millagua fight Zeph to the death. Zeph¡¯s squire was a minor deity I had seen around¨Ca slight, genderless godling, an empath who drew their power from the excitement of others nearby. I knew who they were but I didn¡¯t know their name. It didn¡¯t matter. What mattered was my determination. I knew that if I could succeed¨Cif my master, Millagua could succeed¨Cmy enchanted helms would be in high demand. Maybe then I could move up in the world from being a minor god myself. Millagua and I stood under a magnificently carved overhang, a lip of precious stone which hung out over the plated floor, where we were able to stand in the shade. Across the colosseum, Zeph stepped out into the light. The crowd roared as the man stretched out his muscular body. He wore shoulder plating and chest armor and shin guards, all plated with scales to maximize flexibility. And he carried something peculiar¨Ca silver staff with a glowing red jewel on top of it. The jewel glowed as Zeph planted his staff in between two of the plates on the ground and held his hands up to the sky. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it I looked up and there was Isshakhu, sitting in the stands. She wore a shimmering gold-yellow dress. Her hair was up high, tamed by a thick gold band that looked like a big vase with spiky leaves growing out of it. Isshakhu held gold binoculars up to her face, watching as she cheered on. Millagua turned to me. ¡°Where is my son?¡± he said. I didn¡¯t know where Siynh had gone. I only shook my head. ¡°Well,¡± said Millagua, ¡°there¡¯s no turning back. This is it.¡± He put on his Tripunctum helm, fitting it carefully over his head. It was a beautiful piece of enchanted armor, and I was proud to see it worn by such a well-known god on such a public occasion. The Tripunctum gleamed in the sunlight. As Millagua lumbered forward onto the open territory of the colosseum floor, leaving the dugout behind, Siyn came running forward to wish his father the best of luck. Unfortunately, he only caught his father¡¯s back, and the sorry pair would never meet again. The Lord’s Tale IX: The Fight Begins As the two combatants entered the battlefield, it became clear that the crowd had mixed sentiments. Zeph¡¯s entrance was met with a wild roar, for he was popular and charismatic; however, everyone also knew that Millagua had been through difficult times, and many onlookers empathized with him. Zeph pointed his silver staff so that the red ruby at the tip of it rested just centimeters from Millagua¡¯s nose, through which he breathed hard behind his Tripunctum. ¡°Let¡¯s get this overwith,¡± said Zeph. ¡°Fine by me,¡± said Millagua. Then the underdog slapped Zeph¡¯s silver staff up, and planted the mightiest side-kick he could muster into Zeph''s upper belly. With a huff, the air left his lungs. He skidded backward and caught his balance. The crowd went silent. Millagua stood still, enjoying the moment. Fine, he thought, if that is the one hit I land, at least it was a good one. Zeph cracked his neck. With dextrous fluidity, he brought his silver staff to bear before charging forward in full swing. Millagua hopped back out of its reach. Before Millagua could turn his artful dodge into an advantage, Zeph rained in again with surprising speed. Twice, then three times, Millagua ducked, leaning back and out of danger¡¯s way. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The danger was that giant ruby on the end of Zeph¡¯s silver staff. Millagua watched it, training his eye on its brilliant red glow. That color gave him an advantage, as the head was easy to spot. Unfortunately, that made it so Millagua let himself get a little too confident. On the fourth swing, with Millagua mindlessly dodging while desperately racking his brain for some way to counterattack, Zeph swung in hard at Millagua with the bottom end of his silver staff, where there was no big red rock to warn him of the coming blow. He caught Millagua on the side of the head, and the underdog went down hard. Sprawled on the ground, panic overtook the god of stasis, and he clutched his necklace of enchanted amber. No matter what happened, he could not be frozen in time again. Zeph¡¯s shadow fell over him. ¡°There is no need to do that,¡± he said. ¡°I do not need to freeze you in time. I am not afraid of you.¡± Millauga¡¯s heart met this blunt statement with mingled relief and despair. Zeph was right to be confident. He was the better combatant. Millagua knew there was nothing he could do. Unless¡­ Millagua placed his hands on the temples of his enchanted helm, the one of my design, activating the Tripunctum. The Lord’s Tale X: Bagua, the Were-Bat A wind whipped up around the two contestants standing in the Colosseum, disturbing a carpet of dust and grit from the ground beneath their feet. Then, in a brilliant flash of blue-white light, a triangular beam shot out of the front of his head. It lasted only for a moment, and then it was gone. Ziph shook his head. What the hell had that been? Never mind. He rotated his shoulder as if to come at Millagua with a killing blow, and then, suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a sound. It was a high-pitched sound, like a whistle from far away, way up in the cloudless blue sky, faint at first, but then getting louder, quickly, as whatever it was closed the distance. Within seconds, the sound was so piercing and terrible that even the gods in the Colosseum stands were seen to be pressing their hands against their ears to block it out. They looked up to see what was coming down at such tremendous speed, many of them burning their eyes as they made direct eye contact with the brilliant sun. And so it was that, amidst the chaos, most of the onlookers didn¡¯t even see the thing as it landed down there, on the floor of the Colosseum, between Ziph and Millagua. Almost no one knew it was even there until the literal dust had settled. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. I did. I watched the terrible creature rocket down from the heavens like a black lightning bolt. I watched as the gods turned their faces away in fear. I saw everything. I couldn¡¯t look away. This was all thanks to my brilliant invention; my blood, sweat, and tears; the invention that would bring me up in society. The Tripunctum helm, which my master wore on his head. When the air was still, there the creature was. Three meters tall, a man with a bat¡¯s head and face and leather wings. Possessed of an Olympian¡¯s physique, he reared his head back and shrieked again, and all the crowd covered their ears in dismay. Only a few in the crowd kept watching intently. Isshakhu was one of them. I don¡¯t think I even saw her blink one time. Siyn, Millagua¡¯s son, was another. Neither did Ziph. My master, I am ashamed to admit, turned his head away out of sheer terror. He cried, ¡°Bagua, the were-bat, it is you, you are real,¡± and then he vomited on the ground. Bagua was Millagua¡¯s childhood bogeyman, a long-forgotten terror of his youth, and now the god of static time was frozen in fear, locked in a memory he hadn¡¯t known he had. ¡°Bagua,¡± he said, and it was all he could say. ¡°Bagua, Bagua, Bagua.¡± Ziph lifted his silver staff above his head, intending to bludgeon Millagua with its grave ruby head. Bagua, the Were-Bat II A long, long, time ago, when Millagua was first born, he was not yet aware of himself. That is because the incarnation of time-stasis was not always, strictly speaking, alive. If you trace movement and energy back to the origin of the universe, you will always find traces of Millagua, because where there is light, there is darkness, and whenever something exists, its opposite (or at least its potential) exists. With the creation of the universe, there was movement. With that movement, there was also the potential for a lack of movement. That potential was Millagua. But Millagua did not take any physical form for many billions of years, and even when he finally did, he was a mindless, lumbering, primeval creature. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. In the time before the Colosseum, long before the Table of Heaven was ever even conceived of, there lived a greedy, bloodthirsty galactic wizard called Ram Gram Woole. This evil, selfish creature embroiled himself in mortal combat with the Great Wandering Machuck, an early child of the universe whose curiosity led her on many adventures, and who is one of the most celebrated gods in all Cannesia, with hundreds of shrines big and small celebrating different aspects of her journey. Well, during Ram Gram Woole¡¯s battle with Great Wandering Machuck, the pair managed to stop time and space in a ploy to finally kill each other. That was the moment that led to Millagua¡¯s sentience. Millagua matured slowly. He woke for brief periods, only to fall back into stasis for eons. Such was his nature. He was the god of non-movement. Sometimes, while he slept, he dreamed. Some of his dreams were good, but others frightened him. Bagua, the were-bat, was one of the most terrifying creatures to haunt him. Bagua, the Were-Bat III Millagua slept for time beyond our reckoning. He wasn¡¯t awake for it, so he didn¡¯t know anything. When he finally woke up, it was as if only moments had passed. Well, that wasn¡¯t completely true, because all those years, Millagua dreamed. Dreams are good, aren¡¯t they? I think dreams are the best. Because when you¡¯re dreaming, the world is always safe. Even when things are scary. So scary that you don¡¯t know you¡¯re safe. The truth is that you are safe. Do you know what I mean? I think you do. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Millagua knew. And he didn¡¯t know, because not knowing is what it means to dream. Millagua¡¯s dreams were continuous. Events followed one another. Once upon a time there was a purple dragon who lived in a great sprawling nebula in space, who choked on a star, who held his throat and spewed cosmic dust in an attempt to expel the ball of energy like an unwelcome house guest. How does an animal choke on something in space if it cannot breathe? That question troubled Millagua when he saw the purple dragon, and he wondered whether the universe was real. One thing you need to know about Millagua¡¯s dreams is that, whenever he questioned reality, that was when Bagua came to torment him. Sorry, what? You want to know how I know so much about Millagua¡¯s mind? Forget that. Just let me tell you about Bagua, the terrifying were-bat. Bagua, the Were-Bat IV From time to time, Millagua questioned reality, threatening to wake himself up from his endlessly long tapestry of dreams. And every time he came close, there came Bagua, the Were-Bat. One time, Millagua was floating through a field of gently twinkling metal flakes on a planet made of gold. The flakes rolled lazily, the sun winking off them as they went. Millagua felt totally calm and serene, at peace with himself. He was all alone, and that was fine. A light breeze blew in from behind him, nudging the gold flakes along. All up in the sky, distant stars twinkled cold silver. Millagua felt deep contentedness and tranquility. Feeling peaceful was so strange for the god of stasis that he suddenly questioned everything. Who was he to be happy? What had he done to deserve this? This couldn¡¯t be real. Then and suddenly the only real thing was Bagua¡¯s hideous face¨Chis folds of leathery skin, his round, upturned nose, his folds of ugly flesh, his grin of sharp teeth, the foul stench of his unwashed fur, the rattling wheeze of his hot breath, and, worst of all, the dark malice Millagua saw deep inside the creatures dead, beady eyes. In a normal setting, old enemies might greet with an exchange of hostilities. They might insult each other, for example, or perhaps state (and restate) old grievances. Some old enemies might boast or brag, while others might beat their figurative chests, toss figurative leaves in the air, and hoot, figuratively, in the general direction of each other. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. But not Bagua, and certainly not Millagua. At the very sight of the were-bat, the god of stasis acted after his namesake: he froze, petrified. There he would stay¨Con the Gold Planet, before the star-eating dragon, and in a hundred hundred other scenarios amidst a hundred hundred different dreams¨Cand suffer in silent horror. Under normal circumstances, being frozen in time for years wasn¡¯t so bad, because Millagua wasn¡¯t really even there. But this¨Cthis awareness of his own lack of movement¨Cit was the most terrifying thing of all. Under normal circumstances, the very thought of Bagua sent a cold shiver down Millagua¡¯s spine. But now, here, in front of this audience, in real life, for this was reality, here was his tormentor, his demon, his were-bat, his Bagua. Even as his enemy, Ziph, fell back in surprise, saving Millagua from being bludgeoned, the god of stasis fell to his knees. He put his hands on his head. Bagua only looked on with his black, gleaming eyes. Millagua screamed. The Lords Tale XI: The Terrible Mistake Bagua kicked Millagua, who fell ear-first into the dirt, then rolled over in agony onto his face. Ziph, on the other hand, composed himself. He took a half-step back, repositioned his silver staff, and pointed the great ruby at the were-bat. ¡°An amusing trick,¡± said Ziph. ¡°You knew you couldn¡¯t beat me with strength or cunning, so you tried to deceive me, but only ended up outwitting yourself.¡± Presently, an aura started to glow around the red ruby at the top of his silver staff. ¡°As for me,¡± he said, ¡°I had my squire arm me with an enchanted amplifier. See now how it increases my natural prowess.¡± Ziph¡¯s muscles expanded. He grew taller, his grin wider. His skin took on a scarlet phosphorescence. Even if he hadn¡¯t been completely paralyzed out of his crippling fear of Bagua the were-rat, Millagua would not have been unable to stand up to Ziph. Now, though, in this state¡­ ______________________________________________________________________ This was it. She should have been happy. But Isshakhu wrung her hands. No, she realized, I can¡¯t lose Millagua. The god of stasis had been nothing but sweet to her. He had been like a puppy. As for Isshakhu, she had only wanted to get herself a bigger, meaner dog. She hadn¡¯t meant for any of this. She hadn¡¯t meant for that bigger, meaner dog to go and kill the old cute one. Or had she? You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. If so, then she had made a terrible mistake. Isshakhu stood up, dropping her spectacles carelessly into the stands. She waved her hands furiously: ¡°Stop the fight!¡± ___________________________________________ Siyn, Millagua¡¯s son, came running to my side. ¡°What the hell is that?¡± he said. His face was sweaty. ¡°That is Bagua,¡± I said, and then explained as best I could. But the boy did not understand. ¡°Remove the Tripunctum!¡± he ordered. ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± I said, and I couldn¡¯t. Those were the rules. ¡°Then I¡¯ll do it myself,¡± the boy said, and shouldered past me to storm the colosseum floor. ____________________________________________________ Imgaggu sneezed. Then she sneezed again. Imgaggu, the goddess who used to paint us elaborate meals with her mind, was sensitive to the Tripunctum¡¯s creations. Where Imgaggu crafted delicacies which were composed of her own personal essence, my beloved Tripunctum generated enchanted creatures like a great shake-eel laying thousands of meaningless eggs. And that Bagua. It smelled something awful. At the same time as the others, Imgaggu stood up in the stands, and she sneezed into her hands. The Lords Tale XII: Chaos Ensues Ziph amplified himself ever bigger and taller. Synh ran to the middle of the Colosseum. Isshakhu, suddenly having had a change of heart, charged down the rafters and leaped into center stage, rolling her ankle as she landed. She howled in pain. The audience gasped. Mingled fury and horror beset Synh. These antonomous feelings swelled within him: fury at his Isshakhu¡¯s face, but also horror at her pain. Isshakhu was, after all, his mother. He instinctively ran to her. ¡°Mother,¡± he cried. Bagua laughed. He flew up, leathery wings beating in the air. Ziph tried to stop him, but with a double kick from Bagua¡¯s powerful, hairy legs, Ziph was left breathless, lying on his back looking up at the cloudless blue sky. Bagua laughed again. Landing between son and mother, the were-bat let out a horrible shriek. The spectators plugged their ears and looked away. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Only Imgaggu could not plug her ears. She was too busy sneezing. It was about the twentieth sneeze that, upon pulling her hand away from her face, she saw that her sneeze had drawn blood. She felt bloody enough. Her throat and nose and ears were all raw and scratchy. Her head ached something fierce. She wouldn¡¯t be able to ¡°cook¡± with her mind for the gods at the Table of Heaven anytime soon. Then, Imgaggu vomited. Now, you should know that Imgaggu does not vomit food (as you would think of it) because Imgaggu does not eat food (as you would think of it). For her, it was all psychic energy, and the vomit that came out of her face was like a sonic blast of pressurized horror. So powerful a god was Imgaggu, that when she vomited, she flattened every single god in the Opal Colosseum. Rings and jewelry were ripped out of onlookers¡¯ faces. Whipped in the wind, they soon took flight. In the chaos, many lost consciousness. Several fled. Then several more. In the aftermath of Imgaggu¡¯s psychic vomit, the showdown at the Opal Colosseum quickly degenerated into a panicked rout. The Lords Tale XIII: The Rift Opens A rift opened in the air. It looked like a gash in the sky. Although the sky above the Opal Colosseum was blue, the sky behind the gash was ugly and red. The atmosphere there rippled like the air over hot coals. Then there were arms and hands. It was only one at first, with sinewy flesh and skin the color of volcanic rock. It seized the gash and forced it open further. Immediately, more hands drove the gash in the sky apart. When the gash ran all the way to the ground, dozens of creatures tumbled out. They had no hair on their bodies, and their skin was smooth and shiny. Their eyes were bright colors, some of them red, some orange, and others yellow. Their eyes gleamed like gemstones. They had large, square teeth, white like pearls. Their earlobes were long and floppy. They wore leather armor and thick boots. They overran the Colosseum, creating carnage as they caught minor gods who were fleeing in the rafters. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Now, just moments before all this chaos broke out, you will remember that Isshakhu had called out to Ziph to stop the fight. When the rift opened up in the sky, she was charging down the bleachers to save her ex-lover from certain death. As it happened, one of the otherworldly creatures took notice of Isshakhu and ran toward her. Now, as she saw the monster sprinting at her, Isshakhu¡¯s screams changed from cries for mercy to terrified shrieks. Hearing her shrieks, Ziph turned from Bagua and Millagua to intercept the creatures. Meanwhile, Siynh was also storming the Colosseum floor. He, too, was determined to save his father, Millagua; but then, when he saw his mother Isshakhu in danger, he ran towards her. Presently, a pair of the dark creatures spotted him, too, and marked him. His life would soon be forfeit. The Lords Tale XIV: A Death in the Family It all happened so fast. With heroism that would be sung for hundreds of years, Ziph ripped into the crowd of monsters. Without so much as a second thought, he grabbed one by the collarbone and tossed it into the air like a doll. Soon three were on him, then four, grabbing him, trying to pull him down. Ziph punched into them one by one, knocking them down, and shoving them aside. He would reach Isshakhu. Meanwhile, Siynh was also running across the Colosseum floor to his mother. But the boy wasn¡¯t battle-worn like Ziph. He lacked the experience of his stepfather, so he didn¡¯t see when one of the downed monsters, left in Ziph¡¯s wake, reached out its hand and snatched Siynh¡¯s ankle. The boy was focused entirely on his mother, and when his chin smashed into the ground, he didn¡¯t even know what hit him. Soon there were three creatures on him. They ripped his arms out and crushed his head. They trampled his body, laughing. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Millagua, too, was caught up in the fight; when he saw his boy die, he let out a horrible wail that vibrated deep inside the heart of every one of the gods. That was how Isshakhu knew her son was dead. As Millagua cried, energy beams sprang out of the Tripunctum Helm, which I had enchanted for him. These beams streaked across the sky, where they rent the very fabric of the air. Gashes opened, and more monsters came tumbling out. They fell from the sky to the ground, landing with puffs and plumes of dirt. One by one, they stood up, their bones crushed, and smiled, rearing back menacingly. ¡°Take it off!¡± I yelled, but Millagua was beset with grief, and could not hear. Bagua, meanwhile, looked serenely on. The chaos of it all seemed to set his gleaming black eyes at peace. The Lords Tale XV: The Man in the Straw Hat There were monsters pouring in through the rift. Stupidly, they crawled over each other, grinning bereftly, showing teeth and eyes with nothing behind them. Then there was a man in a straw hat, a flowing robe, leathery skin, and white brambly eyebrows who appeared in the center of the rift. Stepping through, he dusted his pants off and surveyed the carnage. He seemed to know right away that it was the Tripinctum, my enchanted helm, which was causing all these rifts to open. The man in the straw hat paused to watch Millagua, who was stuck inside the Tripunctum and sending wave after dangerous wave of reality-shattering energy into the air, opening gash after gash, through which hordes of monsters continued to stupidly fall. ¡°Take it off!¡± I called to Millagua again, but the God of Stasis was broken. He had witnessed the death of his son, and it had destroyed him. Millagua could only cry in agonized grief, which, unbeknownst to him, activated the Tripunctum again and again. Then, finally, out of his mind with grief, he didn¡¯t even notice as one of the monsters, scrabbling to wring its hands around his neck, snapped the chain on the enchanted necklace of amber he wore, which kept his body moving normally through space-time. With the chain snapped, Millagua passed out of normal space-time into stasis, where he remained until eventually, hundreds of thousands of years later, Isshakhu returned to that ravaged place, found that artifact, put it back on Millagua¡¯s neck, and cried. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. On that day, which would come to pass in the distant future, Isshakhu would return to her home planet, which had long been abandoned. Ziph, her second husband, had been a good partner, but when centuries roll into eons, one gets tired of the same partner. Isshakhu had always known there was unfinished business back home. Isshakhu was Millagua¡¯s first love, and he was hers, and when he finally woke up on that day in the abandoned Colosseum, he wailed for his boy with fresh, bright, painful tears, for coming out of stasis was like blinking¨Cit was as if no time had passed at all. At the sound of Millagua¡¯s grief, Isshakhu wept too. Eons had passed, and she had healed from the pain of the passing of her first child, but now it all welled back up. The gods are strange creatures. Most of us don¡¯t die, at least not of natural causes. The ones of us who can die of natural causes, like me, still live incredibly long lives. And, there are even some gods who cannot die at all, for they are part of the fabric of the universe, and even if you kill them, they can never disappear entirely. Even Bagua had left. An imaginary creature made real by the magic of my Trimpunctum, Bagua the were-bat suddenly found itself subject to the same rules of time that degrade all organic matter in the universe. And the good news of that part of the story is that Bagua was now locked outside of Millagua, and thus could no longer torture Millagua in his sleep with black nightmares. Unable to bring psychological harm to Millagua, Bagua the were-bat shambled across the ruined Plane of the Gods until he died of boredom, and his body disintegrated. But all that is a story for another day. Now it is time for me to tell you about the man in the straw hat, whose name was Shinna, and who was one of the high-ranking generals of Ram Gram Woole. The Lords Tale XVI: Shinna The man in the straw hat took one look at Millagua, whose body was frozen in his last position¨Ccrying on the floor¨Ctook an introspective peek at the helmet, and finally, one single glance at me. Suddenly, he strode forward, his feet stomping down on the chalky ground with a sense of authority. The horrible black monsters made way for him, never stopping their fighting, but stepping out of his way all the same. Then one of them was thrown across his cape. The old man turned his head, furiously raising one thick pepper-gray eyebrow. ¡°Master Shinna,¡± said the monster. It kowtowed. Shinna glared at it a moment longer. Then, seeming to think better of whatever he had been plotting, went back on his way. The creature scurried aside gratefully. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Shinna stepped in front of Millagua¡¯s frozen body. He looked at me again, singling me out. Did he know that I was the one who had designed the enchanted helm Millagua wore? How could that even be possible? Shinna reached down. He grasped the help between his palms. The Tripunctum slipped off of Millagua¡¯s head with ease. Suddenly, the energy beams stopped. The rifts quieted. The monsters, though, still ran amok. Shinna held the Tripunctum out at me. ¡°Is this yours?¡± he said. And even through the din and clatter of fighting and trampling feet, I distinctly remember hearing him say, as if his voice were coming from inside my mind, ¡°Oh nameless one, Baby Godlet of Triangles, I see a great destiny in you.¡± The Lords Tale XVII: The Bloody Escalator Shinna took my hand and walked me back through the portal. We left all the disasters of that world behind. All that tragedy was in the past. And for a long time, I never looked back. Not until I was too far gone. Through the portal, Shinna ushered me into a red room that looked like it was made out of guts. The walls were fleshy and bright red. The ceiling was divoted and pocked. The floors gleamed as if they were wet, although when I bent down to touch the ground between my feet, my fingers came up dry. I followed Shinna through a hall with a high ceiling. We turned a corner. There were stairs. I took hold of the banister, but when I stepped up, the stairs lifted me, so that I didn¡¯t have to move at all. ¡°Impressive, no?¡± said Shinna. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. I was indeed impressed. As we rode up, we passed windows in the fleshy wall. Some of the windows were dirty and hard to see into, but others were clean and big enough to see inside. I saw a fat, naked, animal-like person with a thick, sawed-off horn in the middle of her face whipping a line of black, faceless animals, which were churning oars the size of men in vats the size of tubs. In another window further up, I saw a dark table inside a yellow-lit room. Skinny men with no muscle or fat were sitting around it. They were discussing some paper in the middle of the table. It might have been a map. Shinna watched me with amusement. He turned the Tripunctum over in his hand thoughtfully, without saying anything. Then he looked back up to the top of the moving steps. We were nearing the peak, where we would disembark and step into the throne room of Ram Gram Woole the Great. The Lords Tale XVIII: The Throne Room Shinna got lots of loot from the Table of Heaven, including me. We stepped into the throne room of Ram Gram Woole. Ram Gram Woole was a massive figure. Preternaturally tall and muscular, the man-god had a bright glow about him. It was as if his muscles had been dipped in the sun. The reason why I call him a ¡°man-god¡± is because he is one of the incarnations of masculinity. Ram Gram Woole sat on a throne of bone thirty meters high. His orange sandals were like molten, glowing warships on the throne room floor. His beard was long and unkempt, and it stank of unwashed skin. When Shinna entered Ram Gram Woole¡¯s throne room with me, he removed his cap, bent a knee, and bowed. Timidly, I did the same. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. There was a moment of silence, and then the huge figure before us stood up. As he did, something miraculous happened. It was a magic I had never seen before. With each minuscule movement of every solitary muscle, the man shrank until he was standing at Shinna¡¯s height. ¡°What news from the rift,¡± he said. ¡°Your soothsayer spoke true,¡± said Shinna. ¡°We were able to come through at the exact place he prophesied.¡± ¡°I will have fifty Mons-s-Sgo¡¯ slaughtered in his honor,¡± said Ram Gram Woole. ¡°Bring him to me when we are done here.¡± He turned to me. ¡°And who is this?¡± ¡°I got lots of loot from the Table of Heaven,¡± he said, ¡°including this one. You. Tell The Great One your name.¡± Shadows played under Shinna¡¯s hat. I couldn¡¯t be sure of his eyes. Yet there was a gleam in there. A glimmer, maybe, a physical reflection from Ram Gram Woole¡¯s bright glow. But perhaps what I saw was deeper--some kind of hidden amusement? Who could know for sure? ¡°My name is,¡± I started, but The Great One interrupted me before I could finish. The Lord’s Tale XIX ¡°Never mind,¡± said Woole, ¡°names are for survivors. If you can survive long enough, I¡¯ll deign to hear your name.¡± I nodded. It was all I could do. ¡°Shinna,¡± he said, ¡°I expect a good reason why you¡¯ve brought this little man to my throne room.¡± ¡°Indeed, your reverence,¡± said Shinna. He took the hat off his head. Holding it against his chest, he bowed stiffly. ¡°He was the one who helped me complete the rift in reality between our worlds. Isn¡¯t that right, little man?¡± All the blood drained from my face. A heavy lump fell to the pit of my stomach. ¡°Helped¡­you?¡± I said. ¡°What did you think, you did it all by yourself?¡± said Shinna. It was all just a terrible accident. Something wrong with the Trimpunctum. An error. ¡°My Lord Ram Gram Woole,¡± said Shinna, fitting the hat back on his head, ¡°it is just as well you have not deigned to learn this little name.¡± He turned to face me. His face was creased and dark. It looked ancient. Damaged. Wiley. Demonic. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Because Godlet of Triangles isn¡¯t really who you are. You know that, don¡¯t you.¡± Shinna smiled. One gold tooth glimmered from the shaded gloom of his mouth. ¡°No,¡± I said, ¡°or at least, that¡¯s only part of it.¡± This was something I had always sort of known. Shinna was stroking his chin and nodding. ¡°Yes,¡± he said, ¡°only part of it. That is a good way to put it. We are always every one of our names, at least in part.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± I said. ¡°My lord Woole,¡± said Shinna, clicking his ankles together in attention, ¡°with your permission, I will take this little man down to the catacombs, where he will be put to work with the rift team. Let¡¯s see if he can make lightning strike twice.¡± ¡°Make it so,¡± said Ram Gram Woole. He pointed one finger at me. It was so big it looked like a sausage. ¡°At this time, the host at the Table of Heaven have sealed nearly all of the rifts we created. They have routed our army, too, and our minions are on the run. But if you can make lightning strike twice, Godlet, there will be a seat for you at my table. Open the rifts for us¨Cgive us the doors to travel anywhere in existence¨Cand your reward will be great.¡± What had I gotten myself into? Again, I nodded, as it was all I could do. With that, Shinna removed his hat and bowed briskly, clicked his heels together once again in salute, and ushered me back out of the throne room. He placed his hand on my back, in the place between my shoulder blades, and started leading me back down the way we came. ¡°Where are we going?¡± I said. ¡°Weren¡¯t you listening?¡± he said, ¡°we¡¯re going down to the catacombs. You¡¯re going to meet the rest of the rift team.¡±