Shoes!

Since I talked about my shoes a lot, I thought I’d make them a story all their own.

Now, it really isn’t fair to say I didn’t try a few different armored shoes over time, but I always refined my original wooden shoes and kept them. By the time I was nearly done, there wasn’t a lot of the wood part left, mostly leather and straps of armor.

I’d say steel, but I’m not sure what the metal was. It was hard, but not like the rest of my armor. They did protect from a falling dagger, but thankfully most people don’t swing sharp objects at your feet. Wizards usually use ice or fire or lightning. Sometimes water. Sometime rock. There were some traps people would set that would be hard on a foot, but that’s why it was always best to avoid the obvious trails. Sometimes, you had to avoid the less obvious trail that went beside the obvious trail, or the next one over.

Sometime after my armor adventure, I decided to return to the ocean. When I arrived, and was looking over the new merchandise tents, my bag rustled and tried to run off my shoulder. My armor stopped it from leaving. I don’t think anyone noticed.

A tiny piece of paper. Maybe tiny is exaggerating. It wasn’t that big. I placed the paper on my fingertip. It pointed back into the forest. The same path that lead me from Klarys and Khrista and their new shops. I tried to move the paper back into the bag so it wouldn’t be lost, but it was now part of my finger. There are days I really didn’t like magic. At least my helmet was mostly removable by now, although if its destination was my bag it was sure to hang on tight to my head.

It was after leaving those shops that a wizard stopped by. Or intercepted me. He offered to travel by my side for my journey to the ocean. He was studying a ship when I told him about the paper. He shrugged, then suggested we buy everything in the ocean shops. I’m sure my laughter gave him quite a jolt. I certainly didn’t have the space to put everything, and not really the spare coin to bargain with. Especially without the sharp tongues of my other friends.

It isn’t often you see a confused wizard. It’s a different kind of gelatinous ball. He pointed to my bag and said it would fit. Then, he stood on his four hind legs and showed me his true self. It was the same wizard that had given me the bag at my mother’s temple.

After explaining how the bag actually worked, I opened it all the way and hung it on the side of a tree. A room appeared. It was empty. And big. No way was I stepping in with a wizard outside, even if he was supposed to be on my side. So, I tossed him in.

If wizards could make angry faces, that’s what his was like as he dusted himself off. That image sticks.

He pointed to all the shelving and how each would adjust based on what I put on them. Some shelves were behind doors, kept cold by wizard’s ice. Unlike an infinite bag, time moved steadily in this room. This wasn’t a place to store wounded companions, but it was a place to store just about anything else. Including infinite bags.

I did ask where this room was, and he just said somewhere comfortable and safe and I would figure it out someday when it would save my life. Well, that didn’t work.

So, after loading up my room and saving a few coppers for food along the way, we struck back to the nameless town. You could call it Drak-Bahr’s favored town, but there were many of those. It was just a town where I had friends. There weren’t many of those.

As we walked, the seasons changed. I no longer cared. My armor adjusted its temperature based on the outside and if I was hot or cold. There are times I really enjoyed magic. Mr. wizard had to stick with the old fashioned spell casting, which he seemed to enjoy. No, he doesn’t get a capital letter.

About half way to our destination, the paper decided we should take a different trail. Talking paper. Like I needed more voices in my head. It could only tell me there was danger, and would yell quite loud if we took more steps. For the sake of my hearing, which was really in no danger, we dove deeper into the wood. The less-obvious, less-obvious, less-obvious trail running near the most-obvious trail. And moving away quickly. Ninety degree quick.

You may be asking about my horse. I did have him. He was with Klarys getting outfitted with armor. After our encounter with the fire-wizards, he insisted on something to cover his now-hairless hide. Can’t say I blame him. Have you ever smelled burnt horse hair?

And this particular wizard was afraid of heights. He worshipped the highest object in the sky, but would move even a man’s height above the ground. Flying was out.

So we walked. Through another set of leather bands in my shoes. Hovering orbs of goo really don’t worry about shoes much. He did have four feet, but they were all moving above the ground.

I never did find out what could have been so dangerous, but we did finally make it back to Klarys’ shop. My horse had a nice set of armor standing beside him in the barn. And most of his hair.

The paper disappeared. Klarys appeared. With shoes. They had a dull black that matched my horse’s armor and very similar to what my armor looked like when I first found it. But, these shoes and that armor wouldn’t self-polish without first visiting my mother’s temple. I think you know where that was. Sprinting distance from the ocean.

I tried going farther west to see the southwest corner, but my horse and new companions disagreed. The wizard wasn’t one of them. This was the time he decided to leave my mother’s service.

A story for another day.

Temple Cleaning

Gods aren’t usually in a hurry. At least to us. As you’ve read, my mother’s western temple had been overrun by shadows and other dark magic. My four friends and I did give proper rites to the dead priests, but that’s all we did. Okay, yes, only two of my friends did so while the other three of us traveled from the eastern temple. But, it’s still us and we in my book.

There’s a joke about a mortal trying to relate to gods. He asks his god what a large sum of money is to him. In Earth terms, he’d ask about a million dollars, or some other large some. The god in turn replies that it’s the same as the smallest denomination, such as a penny. The man then asks about time, asking what a small interval of time is, usually a minute or second for Earth. The god then replies that it would be several generations for the mortal. After thinking some more, the mortal asks the god for a small amount of money, usually the penny. The god then replies to give him a minute, or whatever small time compared to several generations of mortals.

Yes, that joke can be written in a way to make it more entertaining. But, it rings very true. After all, only 40 seasons or so had passed since we buried the priests at the western temple. In god terms, that was nearly immediate. By this time, I’d already accumulated all my armor and even a nice pair of shoes. They had polished themselves while revealing some of their capability. I’m not sure I ever learned everything, but I had learned a few things by this time.

My weapon had a hunger for the shadows, spirits, zombies, and anything else that wasn’t living. Hunger may be a bit too soft of a word. If hunger was a sewing needle, what my weapon felt would have been a nice Claymore sword.

My shield would move around on my armor to whichever spot would be the most advantageous for my safety. It took some time to get used to, but it was very nice. At times, it would also sprout a couple arms with daggers if there were too many enemies. You’ve probably read about the flying discs from my shield as well. At this time, I wasn’t really in control. That would come later.

My armor was the most unique, and my shoes were really part of this armor. Most of the time, it looked as polished as a mirror. Some would say it glowed. Either way, I liked it very much. It also had the ability to change colors and texture. It could turn from a bright chrome finish to dull black nearly instantly. It would learn more tricks, but that’s all I knew about at this time. It is possible it knew all the tricks already, but I didn’t know about them and it wasn’t telling.

My horse was still just hair over skin at this time. All the hair had grown back to its normal thick white coat. And, he’d adjusted to his own armor set. Which just happened to have had the same armorer as my own set.

Who made all this armor? I can venture guesses, but no god took much credit. It certainly wasn’t mortal, at least in its finished form. It is entirely possible a mortal made the armor for a god, who then added the intelligence and magic effects.

Intelligence? Yes. I have mentioned how every armor piece and my mace actually spoke to me. Not to anyone else, but to me. There were exceptions. But, they were almost always chattering about our current situation. Cold, hot, wet, dry, long days, sun, wind, you name it, they all had something to say. Listening took time.

Thankfully my ring didn’t talk. It just sat on my finger and wove healing spells. Constantly. That was the only jewelry I wore at this time. And you really couldn’t tell I was wearing it. My skin had almost completely healed over it.

Yeah, I was talking about how quickly my mother asked to cleanse her temple. I was still in my home town when my four friends walked into Elysha’s tavern. I was sitting with Klarys and Khrista for a midday meal, which we had been waiting for some time. That was normal. Leyan was kind, but it was obvious waiting tables wasn’t her life’s dream.

When the four of them sat down next to us, Elysha joined the table. He had that sense life was about to get interesting. He was mostly right.

The four had been staying at the eastern temple when a priest sent them away to search for me. It wasn’t much of a search, my whereabouts were always known to the priests. Always. Over dinner, they discussed what had been a rather large commotion in the eastern temple. Several attacks had been made at the outer spires. None were significant or severe, but it wasn’t very good for my mother’s appearance. Shadows and other demons had become quite common, dimming the temple’s aura.

The priests knew the western temple was filled with the same type of creatures, so it was assumed it was related. Maybe I should talk a little more about these spires. They weren’t just for decoration, as you may have guessed. All the spires at the eastern temple had a mate somewhere in Drak-Bahr’s Boulders. If a priest were to meditate in one of the spires, he could see through the matching spire. If my mother were so inclined, she could use the energy in the spire to transport that priest to the other spire. Instantly.

But, since the western temple was no longer blessed, that spire pair had darkened. And it was the same spire that the shadows had been attacking. And, that’s where I come in. It was time to cleanse the western temple.

But, not right now.

Marching up to the Temple

Now. This was the time to cleanse the temple. Elysha was interested in the tale, but not very interested in dealing with shadows. As he put it, he preferred things that would leave a blood trail.

Leyan was a different story. Surprisingly. Her craft was in not being seen. Or heard. But, how do hide from a shadow? Maybe that’s the part she liked.

Six people going to a temple. Filled with shadows and demons. It almost sounds like a video game. But, there is one little thing I’ve left out. Khrista and Klarys had amassed quite a reputation. For me. For the first time in this sleepy little town, there was a standing army.

Who was in charge? No one really. Until now. Word traveled quickly that I was going to embark on a mission for a goddess. That’s all it took. I now had a few hundred soldiers. All marching toward the western temple.

I’ll spare you the details of the march, mainly because it wasn’t interesting enough to create a solid memory. But, by the time we reached the temple, we were down to a couple hundred soldiers. No one died, mind you. But enthusiasm is a fickle creature. And long marches across half a planet, or disk or whatever, tends to dull enthusiasm quickly. Those that left went back to their farms or shops. Those that remained couldn’t think of a good reason to leave. Yet.

I have a partial belief that many of those that remained were hoping a good showing would get Leyan’s attention. Yes, I wasn’t the only one mesmerized by her golden buckles. Most people of my race, or species, wouldn’t think twice about the elf-like species. She changed that perception. To be fair, most of her species were captivating if you could find them. They tended to stay in the western forest, away from the other species. Or races.

Now, I really can’t tell you if we were all one species with differing characteristics or just a bunch of closely-related species. But I can tell you that it was possible to mate with any of the other sentients in my world. Even the ones with more arms and or legs. Or differing body structures. Somehow, it all worked. I don’t know this from personal experience of course, but I do have friends. And they have friends. And they have other friends.

The army that made it to the base of the inner mountain primarily consisted of my species, but there were still a fair number of the other species. Including the prolific mages. I tried to keep them from leaving, knowing magic is really the best way to deal with something that doesn’t bleed. Along the way, many swords and axes were enchanted with minor gifts. These would allow the weapons to affect the shadows and demons. But, none were as hungry as my mace.

My shield was anxious, on the other hand. And back. And legs. And head. Just about everywhere. The closer we marched, the quicker it moved around my armor. There were no hiding places. Thankfully, it didn’t have the ability to crawl inside my armor, or I think it may have found a hiding place.

Darkness fell as we approached the temple. It was quiet. I was also told it was dark. Must be nice. It was definitely too quiet. No shadows, no noise. Something felt wrong. My shield finally moved to my arm. And shivered in place. My mace fell silent. That really didn’t help the over-quiet atmosphere.

Horse? Speed Racer or Fast Moon or Lunar Racer. He glided silently up the path. Looking for something to eat. He also was mostly quiet. Only breaking the silence to complain about the lack of food on the mountain.

Somehow, I became the point-man. My four friends and Leyan followed nearby, but nowhere near beside. The army was farther back, with the mages in the rear I presumed. Thankfully, I was partially wrong.

One mage worked his way up beside me. And told me to stop. And look up.

There were no stars. No moon. Definitely something wrong. Silence. Darkness. But, I could see the temple. The mage disagreed.

He spent a few minutes teaching me how to weave a demon-sight spell. It allowed me to see what he did.

Now, what we should have seen is the mountain and a few shadows. Shadows are always everywhere. Most are harmless wonderers. Very few care about mortals. Even fewer are really hostile. We saw complete darkness. It was time to call a priest.

Or, my mother. Her answer wasn’t very encouraging. She asked where I was. Not something any god should have to ask. After a brief description of our venture up the mountain, she sighed. You know that motherly sigh that says you really should have known better? That one. Ten-fold, with a goddess twist.

The demons knew we would be coming up the path and why. So, they set up a little portal for us. We were now in the demon’s realm. The ground is the same, as are most the trees and buildings. But, we were now the shadows. Those we hunted had moved to our normal realm, making them invisible here.

Unfortunately, getting out isn’t quite as easy as getting in. You have to find the demon that created the portal. And not kill him. Right away, anyway.

The temple cleansing would have to wait until after this little lesson.

The Plain Temple

The western temple sat on a plain. It was still visible in this plane, thankfully. However, in the normal plane, we were not plainly visible. You could see us, but we were just a whisper form a different plane. It wasn’t always plain to see which plane you were in, as they looked all very similar. Plainly, I should have known there were issues when the air was quiet. It was a very plain message we were no longer in the right plane.

You see, some magical weapons were imbued with a certain sentience, which you already know. This sentience wasn’t much different than a shadow from another plane, so if you switched planes, the sentience stayed in the plane it knew. It then was just a presence.

Do you like presents? I hope it’s a plain answer, but why are there no waterplanes, and only airplanes?

So, the sentients from my armor, shield, and mace were now all alone. This didn’t bother them too much, since they had many shadows to feast on. At least my mace was happy. When the sentience was ripped from my magical items, they were given shadow bodies to hold them over. In time, their body would either strength or fade away, depending on their ability to feed.

I am being a little generous by calling them a sentient. They had some intelligence, but it wasn’t much more than a pet dog would have. They knew one thing, and that was about it. My mace would fight, and my shield and armor would protect. Luckily, some of the mages also had sentient items. Though I’m not sure how useful a bag, a tent, and a pair of shoes would be. And, my items didn’t have enough memory to really tell me how well they did.

Back to my plain problem of being in the wrong plane.

There was no way to know where the demon we needed would be, so we decided to head for the temple. A small group of the army followed a couple mages back down the mountain side. We all agreed they wouldn’t travel past the path, or they could be stuck here forever. How long do shadows live, anyway?

The temple in this plane was dark and oppressing. Just the opposite of what it looks like in the proper plane. It was almost depressing. We entered anyway, visiting the lone spire. It was empty. The temple was also empty. We could see what looked like shadows from time to time, but nothing that would stay when you paid attention.

After searching the temple, we decided to head up the mountain. We hadn’t heard from the group going down, so one of the soldiers volunteered to be a messenger. Up the mountain we went.

It was much shorter than I remembered. And the view was terrible. Not because the trees and landscape was that much different. It was dark. Near the top of the mountain path laid a small cave. By small, I mean the entrance was big enough for only one person to enter. And, it was dark. They light from my mace had been dimming since we entered this plane, and it was now extinguished. I was also trusting that any magic it may have had was also extinguished.

A couple of the mages were able to find some fibers to create light. It flickered on and off and danced to an unheard tune. But, at least there was something. The cave sloped down into the mountain. Most of the army stayed at the entrance, with some staying at the temple. All waiting for messengers to return and tell news of each party. No news.

There were eight of us total, the original five, Leyan, and three mages. Those latter four were sandwiched between three of us in front and two in the rear. We had no idea where we were or where we were going, so keeping our lights safe was the best plan we had. We needed a better plan.

But, it wasn’t the mages, it was the cave. After walking for what seemed like hours, we could finally see a chamber with a dim green light. As the light brightened, the mages stopped weaving their light and my two friends trailing moved to the front. There was movement in the chamber. Several people it looked like.

We slowed our steps to keep quiet. There were many more people in the chamber than we had, so it wouldn’t be a safe fight. We just needed information at this point. What we thought was a chamber opened into an open field.

The voices became clear. They were wondering how long they should stay at the temple waiting for a messenger to arrive.

Anti-climatic? Yes, but I guess you had to be there.

When we regrouped at the temple, we thought it strange no messengers had returned from any of the camps. We took everyone up the mountain to the mouth of the cave. They were there, waiting. No messenger.

This now larger group traveled to the base of the mountain. Again, we found the army, but no messengers. It was time for everyone to head to the temple. Minus a few messengers.

When we arrived, it was decided we would march through the spire and into the temple. We would pack as many people as possible into the spire at one time before proceeding. A priest had an idea, and it was worth entertaining.

His thought was that the spire could work the same here as it did in our plane. If my mother was so inclined, she could transport anyone inside to another location, possibly on the right plane. It was a nice thought.

Reality set in, but only after everyone was in the temple. You remember how we’d look like shadows to our normal plane? And how my mace loved to eat shadows? Yeah, that was a problem. For the messengers, anyway. Curiously, though, they didn’t die. No one bothered to take a head count. We weren’t missing anyone.

The messengers all said they had encountered a strange, green light. Then, they were back at the temple. All said they were walking and didn’t feel a thing. Unfortunately, information like this tends to make people relax a little. Not only were we stuck in the wrong plane, but it appeared to us that we were stuck in the temple.

The demon showed at about the same time everyone had let out a breath. He was big. Very big.

Growing in the shadow plane was a little different than the normal plane. The more mortals you ingested, the bigger you got. Ingesting may be a bad word, but have you ever felt like someone walked through you? A cold draft, a tingly sensation? It makes you pause, and, if you’re aware enough, it feels like something was taken from you, but you can’t really say what it was? That was a demon feeding. From what I was told.

Inside this temple, the main floor was mostly open. My mother’s statue was above the entry. In the normal plane. In this plane, that’s where the demon sat. The door came to his knee.

When he stepped down, he was at the back of my little army. He paid no attention to them as he stepped in my direction. Figures.

This was the first time I’d grabbed my mace since we’d been here. It didn’t move. It was securely attached to my armor. The demon laughed. Thankfully, I had a sword. Well, I did after I took it off the back of the soldier in front of me. He was frozen, so I was sure he wasn’t going to be using it.

I did my best to run around the outside of my army, hoping to find a juicy tendon. Have you tried to run around a giant? You get tired really fast. You may make the giant dizzy, but you’re going to need to be in pretty good shape to run long enough. The demon laughed again, louder this time. I saw a shadow in the doorway.

My army had decided to make a circle around the demon’s feet. They started grabbing their weapons in an effort to stub his toe. We all know how much that hurts at least.

I made a run straight at the demon. He saw me running, and I must not have very good form because this laugh was the loudest yet. The shadow in the doorway started moving into the temple.

As I reached his foot, I held my sword low, aiming for his big toe. He let out the loudest scream I have ever heard. The walls shook. The shadow danced. I got kicked.

I’m sure you were hoping for some glamorous fight. But, I can only tell you what I was told. That was a heck of a kick.

The shadow moved faster than I thought anything could. It danced around the feet of the demon, teasing its every move. The demon at one point dropped to a knee to use his hands to find the shadow. But, it was a shadow. And, it now had the demon in a better position. It jumped onto the demon’s side, climbing onto his back and up to his neck.

Remember what I said, to leave this plane, the demon that created the portal had to remain alive. The shadow pulled a lance from its pack and began driving it into the base of the demon’s skull. The mages started yelling. Loud, loud enough to wake me up.

I felt tingly as I tried to stand. As I started to hear what the mages were yelling, I started to understand a little more. I added my voice to not kill the demon. Make him free us. The tingly sensation left a burning sensation as it flew from my body. It looked like a shadow flying to the shadow that had the first part of the lance in the demon’s back. The shadows stopped. The demon screamed.

Then, he punched the floor. Hard. The temple had taken all the punishment it could and began to crumble. Dust fell, rocks fell. The demon stood, flailing his arms and crushing the walls. We all ran. Some to the spire, but most to the doors.

When I reached the barrier to the outside, it felt like I hit a brick wall. I may have, but it wasn’t from the temple. It was the daylight, and the sentients returning to me.

After enjoying the jabbering for a few moments, I turned back toward the temple. It was perfect, and glowing. Just like the moon on a clear night. A priest walked out of the spire. His smile said it all. The temple was cleansed.

A State Returned

Forty five seasons. Give or take. That’s a long time for a military to hold a grudge. Especially one that was so democratic. I may be wrong, it may have taken that long for a vote to happen.

Either way, there were many soldiers that were unhappy. Something about back pay. I was still with the five from the temple cleansing, who were the same from my very first battle. We hadn’t decided much beyond a nice feast to celebrate. Where was easy, of course. Elysha would be happy to supply a spread of food and drink, Leyan would be happy she didn’t have to bring it to our tables.

Khrista was more than happy to mention our names to all travelers who came through her store. And even more happy to tell the traders that traveled town to town. You could say that Khrista was our internet.

This wasn’t always good. Elysha had all the food spread, as we knew he would, but his face didn’t match the occasion. Even Leyan was frowning.

Remember all those men that deserted my command on the way to the ocean? The ones that were going back to collect pay for a job not done? Well, they now ruled that democratic state. They stilled claimed to be a democracy, but it was really a shadow communist state now. The people didn’t like it, but there wasn’t a lot they could do.

Until Khrista.

She knew the story I told and put everything together. It was now my job to restore order. So, after several meals from the feast, I gathered my army back together. This time Elysha was happy to go. Marching by my side. Leyan? Already gone. She preferred to travel a bit lighter than an army.

This time, I decided to ride Moon Racer. This made him a bit happier, and less talkative. My other voices? All there, cheering and waiting for the clash. Thankfully, only my shield had the ability to crawl around. A lot. My mace was doing push-ups off of my thigh, “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.” My armor was busy readjusting. Sometimes a little too tight, sometimes a pinch here and there. Shoes? They were just happy to be flying through the air and not stepping on sharp stones. They joined my horse in blissful silence.

With the nation in turmoil getting close, we split the army into several smaller groups, spreading our entrance wide to prevent any suspicion. It would look like a pincer movement if we’d bothered to draw it on a map. We’d meet in the capital city the next day. Assuming the day would return. It did not. Mother was watching.

Elysha stayed with me and the original members. We all had horses, there’s were more normal. If you want a size comparison, they’d have a great view of my horse’s tail, if he’d ever bothered to stand on the ground. Instead, they got a nice view between his rear legs.

We rode into the town. It was quiet. And dark. My shield said everyone was sleeping. It had a knack for detecting living things. I found this out when a column of ants came through a camp. I’ll call them ants, but they were more friendly. Instead of stealing your food or pinching when disturbed, they would comb through your hair and clean it. Same for your skin. Call it a traveling shower. They spooked my shield to no end. Who in turn spooked everyone in the area with the warning about invaders. Ants.

Now, I really had no idea who I was looking for. There were so many that had deserted that army. I had thought about contacting those that helped me the first time, but that would have meant an extra journey to the ocean. Instead, we wandered through the town looking for a building that looked important.

Luckily, communists like their big, showy buildings. Even in my world. The democratic state had really ugly buildings for the most part. Square with no real decoration. But, there was a new building in town. Many curves accented with gold and silver. And even a statue of me. It would have been flattering if it hadn’t been used as target practice for the bowmen. A lot of target practice.

I kinda liked the statue, and decided it could use an upgrade. Since everyone was sleeping, and the night was long, I found a large branch and fashioned what looked like a mace in one of the statue’s hands. A small collection of bark made a nice shield, and mud covered up most of the damage.

If you’re picturing a well-repaired statue, you may want to alter that picture. It looked mildly worse, but at least it made a point. We left for the outskirts of the town, hoping the rest of the army wasn’t far behind. This time, my plan seemed to be better. Let the people know I was there.

Seemed better. The people did figure out I was there. But, the city people seemed to like their new leaders. But, in their angry yelling, the messengers were able to disperse out into the rural parts of the state. These were the people that wanted the return to their normal. The farmers that fed everyone, the people that worked the trees into furniture and houses, the people that moved rivers so everyone could drink safely, and the people that had their wages cut in relation to the people in the city.

My army swelled from a couple hundred to thousands. I knew this was going to be angry and bloody if it continued. I rode back into town with Elysha and my original soldiers. Seven against a city.

You may wonder why I don’t use names for these five friends. Honestly, there are two reasons. One is that any name I use would only be a representation and two is that I really don’t remember their names. It is quite possible there were just five soldiers that seemed to remember me from the old days and happened to be in the right place when I was looking. I’m sure they were from that first battle, but it’s been a long time.

This was one of those times that it was good to have a god on your side. We rode in shadow, while moonlight draped over the town. We could see everyone, while we were just a moving shadow. No matter your belief, you knew that was something special. And something to be feared. Not by the guys in shadow, of course. There were only seven of us. Any attack and we’d be indistinguishable from our horses.

But, people did fear the gods. Primarily because most of them were active in my world. And powerful. Every so often you’d hear about a new lake that formed somewhere in Drak-Bahr’s Boulders. Usually where a town once stood. The stories would say that a large hand came from the sky and scooped up the town, scattering the dirt and buildings. But, it was always a friend that saw it first-hand.

As we approached the fancy building, a hundred or so soldiers met us. They formed a line in front of the building. One deep. One hundred wide. My mace wasn’t happy. You did read about my mace’s temper tantrum? You could call it an ability, but it could create a giant, crushing force. But, not one hundred people wide.

The building, you ask? Well, I had the same thought. By this time, our little party had created our own line. I had three men on either side. And below. My horse had drifted higher in the sky. I thought it was to make me look better. It wasn’t.

Then, I heard a voice say something was perfect. And my leg vibrated. I guess it was time to arm myself. When I grabbed the handle, a beam of moonlight raced down from the sky and centered on me. I was above the buildings, easy to see by everyone. I raised my right hand, mace pointing straight up. As the moonlight struck my mace, I threw my arm down as hard as I could, lifting off the back of Moon Racer. The beam of light was ripped from the sky and angled down. As it fell, it formed a fist. Probably the biggest fist you can imagine. Well, not that big. It came crashing down on the front of the building, catching the front wall where the fingers met the hand. The hand itself crashed into the ground, shaking the city.

The men in the line? They didn’t stir, but they were well shaken. Now, the effort that goes into something like that isn’t something you can really do many times in a row. Heck, I’d be lucky to summon that much energy after forty meals. But, no one else knew that. I raised my mace again. Everyone stirred before I reached the top. The town was now as barren as when I first entered. Except for one guy. Kneeling. Him, I recognized.

It was the president of the democratic state. He was the one that had organized the coup against the government using the soldiers that had returned.

It was all Elysha needed to hear. His father was the leader of the people’s chamber. He’d been slain.

This time, Elysha smiled as the feast was held. Tears flowed through his smile as he laid is father’s sword in the middle of the feast.

It Never Stops

Gaps. Your memory creates them, then fills them in. Not perfectly. But sparsely at first. There was a gap between two stories, freeing a democratic state and a severe injury to Moon Racer. I’m sure you know from massive foreshadowing and more recent accounts that the injury wasn’t the end of his story. More like the beginning.

This, again, isn’t that story. Just a few gaps between that training session and that fateful event.

Training is very boring. Both in life and in hindsight. But the difference between those that succeed and those that fail is that very training. It’s very true for any lifetime, even on Earth. Look at the training regime of any professional athlete. They have little time for much else. At least the most successful, anyway. There’s always time for a festive time with friends, but it shouldn’t interfere with the training.

In my first life, or so I’m calling it, the difference between great and almost great could put you on the wrong side of the topsoil. It’s true that many of our wars weren’t fought to the death, but in my line of righting the wrongs, that was very much the case.

I’ve probably already mentioned perspective more times than you care to read, but it is an important topic. When I say I was righting the wrongs of the world, that was the perspective given to me by my parents. This will be the same for you. Your friends also play a role, but your parents should be the first to give you that perspective. Should. There is a big advantage to any growing child to having both a mother and a father to look up to, to learn from. No treasure you will find can have more value for your life. No two parents are perfect, but they are yours and what you have. Rejoice if you have both. Of course, there are people that shouldn’t be parents, and we’ll leave them out for now.

As for my first life, I had a couple sets of parents. One mortal, one not so much. The mortal parents weren’t really around a lot. I can’t blame my mortal mother in that life, she didn’t survive long enough for me to know her. My mortal father was not very good either, selling me off as soon as he could. My dragon-father was only a voice, and my goddess-mother came and went. I’m sure they were both more prevalent than I know, but I was primarily raised by priests.

This was one of those times. My five friends had stayed at the temple while I was healing, and they stayed to work with training. They knew if they were going to be traveling with me and joining my adventures, it would be a good idea to at least go through the same training. And, let’s just say I’m grateful for all the priests, and priestesses, that helped in those training sessions. Although all of knew how to cast healing spells, our abilities were very rudimentary in comparison.

I would like to think that the energy that gave these priests life still wanders the universe. Comfort. Maybe these priests are still here, helping with this life on Earth as I find out my purpose here. Maybe that purpose is to tell this story. Maybe it’s something greater, or lesser. There are few that know the answer, and none that give the answer when asked.

My friends knew their purpose. Or so they thought. They believed they survived those brutal battles to help me serve my purpose. What was my purpose? I didn’t know, I just went by the feelings in my head. I led the life of a mystic at times, saying we just need to travel in this direction and our purpose will be shown to us. Sometimes I really did know where we were going. Not necessarily why, but definitely where. This was one of those times.

While training, a priest brought my leather bag to my attention. It had unfolded itself. It was now a looking glass. There were ten reflections. The six of us warriors and four of the eight priests. That was all the sign we needed. What they didn’t see was the map, only I could see that. Mystic level one.

You may have thought my training was always at the temple, which would be mostly correct. But, sometimes, there is business to attend to that also serves as training. My horse didn’t come with us on this venture, he had no reflection in this glass. I don’t know what he saw, but it was something more than a looking glass with his reflection missing. He said he’d just wait on the hay pile. He never liked sleeping on hay.

Who was in charge of that leather bag? You would think my mother or father, but both denied those thoughts. That kind of magic was too weak. But, I always followed the directions, thinking it was my mother. I wouldn’t learn otherwise for a very long time.

This time, we were heading south. A little. But, we stayed near the ocean. It was a little different traveling along the beach, or at least beside the beach. We could always hear the waves crashing, but stayed clear of the sand itself. The entire shoreline was lined with trees, although there were some clearings along the way. On this side, there were no cliffs or mountains. Just a very long beach.

We eventually arrived at a deserted town. The buildings all looked to be in very good shape, and were mostly dust-free. We took our time looking through the buildings, there were maybe twenty in all. Some were shops, some were homes, and a couple looked like the mayor’s home. There was a smith and a food stand. The farm homes were in the town, with their fields extending out. The crops were growing, perfectly planted. The weeds were also growing, showing the lack of attention.

No home had food or working mage’s ice. It was warm enough that many people would have had mage’s ice to cool their homes and especially the tavern. The tavern had no kegs, either empty or full. No dishes either. Everyone seemed to have left, but not in a real hurry as they took everything. Even the beds.

Even though the priests didn’t see anything malevolent, we made our camp at the far end of one of the farms. Far off any path into town. You may be thinking we were being overly cautious. In this case, I bid you welcome to my website. Read through my blog updates to see the order in which I created this site. For the rest, you know this was just showing my many lessons in bad decisions.

I set my shield as a sentry, and my mace as a camp-light. I had learned to sleep in the glow of that light. We all slept in our battle formation, armor on.

It wasn’t necessary. The sun rose in normal fashion, and we ate our first meal with few worries. Then, we noticed the field. The weeds were gone. My shield hadn’t seen anything, even though it watched the field all night. It could not recall when the weeds left.

We packed our gear, slightly spooked now, and headed back into the town. Still empty. Nothing had moved but the weeds. They were now piled as compost, the dirt on their roots still moist. Then, out of sheer luck, I looked straight up. The town wasn’t empty, the residents were simply above us. In the trees. Watching.

Not all sentient races walk the ground. What was the training? I think you know that answer.

Still Going

After leaving the town of flying creatures, we headed farther west. And a little south. We kept north of the desert region, near the more snowy areas. But, it was the rainy season, so more like the muddy regions.

We were blessed with constant rain alternating with full sun. If there was night, it was only the rain clouds obscuring the sun as it circled above. Rain then sun. Rain then sun. In full battle armor. I was constantly casting cooling spells, my armor said it was tired and time to sleep. But, only when the sun was out.

My boots complained as we sloshed through the mud, constantly gripping my leg, sometimes painfully. You would think magical boots could arrange and make themselves a bit wider, but you wouldn’t be thinking correctly. At least for these boots.

My shield would venture onto my back, sometimes catching water, sometimes catching small birds. For food. If you’re surprised that armor pieces ate food, join the club. Then imagine what it sounds like to have that sound in your ear.

You may be wondering what happened in that village of fliers. Or flyers. Depending on which side of the line you wish to play. Well, not much after we looked up. They were a nocturnal bunch, and really had no use for the buildings, but they kept them clean. I tried asking if they’d allow someone to move in, but there wasn’t really an answer there. Politicians in training. The whole village. We bid them farewell after tidying our gear, and they provided us some fresh food from the farms. They seemed to have no meat, but we decided it was better to leave than to listen to another long speech of nothingness.

We finally came across a town. I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be built as a river town, but that’s what it was when we entered. The buildings were dry inside, aside from the water splashed in from wet feet. Mostly ours, by the looks we received. The people seemed friendly enough, if not a little agitated.

The cause? Water, as you may have guessed. After the tavern owner mopped the floor, he came to sit with us at the back table. We always left a seat open. I’ll spare you the conversation, mainly because I only remember parts of it, but he blamed a family of beavers for flooding the town. Beaver in this case isn’t the little creature you know on Earth, think bigger. Like a cow. But not as smart as either.

Problem is, it was bad luck to disturb their building progress. You’re likely to get flooded out. Reasoning was also out of the question. They were nowhere near smart enough to understand reason, or pain. If you’ve heard the quote that even the dumbest dog learns not to stick his nose where it hurts, that doesn’t apply here. These creatures would happily have you hit them repeatedly.

So, another answer was needed. Quickly, it seemed. I don’t know why, but I was guessing these people didn’t like water. Blankets and bed mats strewn about the tavern may have been a clue.

This isn’t a morals story, violence doesn’t solve all problems. It is absolutely true, but only a partial truth. It’s similar to expecting peace on Earth if a country scraps their military. There will be peace, but not for them. No, this is more about what I did. I have many memories about swinging a mace, casting a spell, biting, and crushing. I also have many peaceful memories. I have to say, the more peaceful ones do tend to be a bit more boring, but can be dressed with some drama. And a quick ending. Memory holes.

One way to prevent memory holes is to invest in written books. Write your own journal, read someone else’s journal, read mine. Buy a dictionary every so often, watch how the meaning of words changes over time. Encyclopedias are better, but they do take some room. With a fire, it is quite difficult to memory-hole the written word.

I didn’t keep journals. It wouldn’t matter if I had. It wouldn’t have survived me turning into an energy-based lifeform that traveled through space. But, my memories are mostly intact. Mostly. Maybe they aren’t, but I don’t quite remember.

Instead of creating a plan, we went down the path to watch the beavers work. Their dam spread across the path. We walked through it, without giving them a glance. Kind of a mistake if you know what a sudden release of water feels like. The hole in their dam began to widen, but they paid no attention to us as we continued down the path. We may or may not have fallen, but that isn’t really important.

We then climbed trees to see what would happen. You already know. They rebuilt the dam with amazing skill. We did damage a rather significant portion, but it was no problem for them. The damn was repaired, and they went back into their pool.

Too bad we’d forgotten something in town and had to return. They watched us this time. Blankly. We continued up the path until we were out of sight again. Then, snuck back in the trees to watch. The dam was repaired again. We played this game a few more times. No changes.

After they’d retreated underwater, and we ate a meal, it was time for a bath. In their lake. We were a little rude, and I won’t go into detail, but we did make the water a bit dirty. But, not in that way. After the bath, we walked down the path, damaging the dam again. Game on. They seemed to hesitate that time, waiting much longer before repairing the dam. So, we decided to take another path to the town, this time from the north instead of the east. And, we brought some new friends.

These friends we brought really needed a bath. After all, you should clean your dead animals before you cut them for steaks. The beavers left the area. We waited as we finished trimming our steaks, but none remained by the time we’d finished another meal. We then used a bit of magic to break up the dam more completely.

You would think we’d go into the town to get our just rewards, but we decided to wait. There was another problem to fix.

Downpour

As our little lake emptied, it started to rain. More. It didn't seem like more was really an option, but apparently it was. There was a nice, downhill path to the next town. It somewhat resembled a river. The added rain kept pounding. The paths were usually a soft dirt, but the dirt was now exposing a layer of rocks underneath. These weren't necessarily the rounded rocks you normally see in a river. This river was too young.

We walked, or slid, down the grade in the grass. Sometimes, the trees were in the right spot, other times, they were a painful reminder of how wet the ground was. My boots did their best to grasp the ground, but they didn't have quite enough magic in them to make the spikes that would have been helpful. Not that I knew at that time that spikes were what I needed.

My fellow five and priests were having a much more difficult time. I don't remember them all being with me in the lake, but I'm sure they were there. Or maybe some stayed in the town. It doesn't seem relevant, so maybe that's the limit to my memory. I keep calling them my five friends, but it could have been three or eight just as easily. Memory isn't a journal. We'll keep with five. For now. I may change that number in a different memory.

When we could see the town below, it was about time for the final meal of the day. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but we decided it would be nice to have a building over our meals. If you're used to my foreshadowing yet, you may already see the error in this judgment.

As the path entered this town, it split into a few different routes. I would call them business, residential, and farmland using current knowledge along with this memory. This is the start of our problem. One river became three. One town became three. I still don't know why the people in this area wouldn't walk in the water.

The tavern wasn't empty, but at least it held less than the entire town. The river scratched at the walls, trying to chew them down piece by piece. It still wasn't prudent to ask why they were afraid of water, but they were will to pay to build them some protection. They insisted they would pay greatly if we could rid them of the river completely. We knew some of this river was from the beaver lake, but surely it was about empty by now. Why it was raining so much was something I didn't know.

We did ask for volunteers to help us, and everyone just sat still. One of the priests asked me outside. The others stayed inside to gather food and eat their meals.

The rain was beginning to strengthen as the sky darkened. The river had drawn back from the building, but we knew that was only temporary. The priest simply asked who these people could have wronged to bring such a torrent, and if we wanted to be on that side as well. Of course, none of us were afraid of rain, but then he asked what kind of people would be.

My brain snapped back. Only people made of stone or dirt had any worry with flowing water. But, they looked just like everyone else. And, if we did use rock and dirt to protect the building, would that make more of them? This opened up another problem. The river had washed away the dirt in the town, leaving behind the heavy stone bed of the path. We prodded this stone, but it was tightly bound. The others walked out around this time, using the water to wash their hands. My five friends sat in the water. After discussing our conversation, the priests also sat in the water.

This river was running along this path, picking up and moving all the dirt in its path. But, in this town, the water was clear. No dirt. It had been flowing long enough to completely clean a path that had a dirt buildup that extended bad generations. But, the grass was completely unaffected.

The question was asked if this was really water. It looked like water, but none of us had bothered a taste. We did capture some of the rain to quench our thirsts, it was usually much better than any water you would find on the ground. I think the same holds true in many places.

Since my shield was accustom to hanging out in the dirt as a sentry, I decided it was time he did so here. On the bank, not in the water. Normally, when I would plant my shield in the ground, it'd grow a small spike. Today, it was a wide foot. There was no intent of allowing ground penetration. Just a subtle no ringing through my head. There was a different form of no for each attempt. So, I started toward the water. This changed the response from a casual no to a more forceful version of no that contains several words.

Watching this exchange, everyone stood and left the water. It was time for the priests. I was part of that circle as well. They always thought it was a good idea to include the son or nephew of a god in their requests. And, the answer was not quite an answer. More of a standard problem response. In order to find the end, you must know the beginning.

None of us really wanted to spend any more time in this town or very close to the river, so we moved into the dark forest for a while and made a small camp. The rain had eased, so we were able to change into dry clothing. We all slept fully armored, however.

The morning sun seemed early. Pretty much like any morning feels. How many times to you need to hit the snooze on a Monday morning? Unfortunately, the sun didn't have a snooze button. Or maybe it did and that's how are long nights were started.

The next few days were spent walking back up the path-river. The original town that had the beaver problem was drier than it had been, but the residents still huddled in the tavern as the river raced by. The beavers were nowhere close, but the lake was empty. After looking, it seems the lake had been quite old.

Now, here's a fun fact from my world. Sometimes. We crested a hill next to the river-path. The river flowed uphill from below. There were a few larger rivers that would do this, but they would also be coming from a significant lake in the valley. Why they did this was always explained by magic.

One of the things I've always enjoyed was watching water cut its way through dirt and stone. And, that's one thing I definitely want to build with my tractor. My own artificial creek with a pond on both ends. I would certainly use the existing lay of the land to create the stream, as the water creating its path is something that I would enjoy watching. Starting as a meandering path, searching for that next low spot. Slowly gathering strength to create its own path. Chewing away at the dirt, rounding the sharp rocks below. It would be a good place to watch a natural force while eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while sitting in a rocking chair.

As we started down, the rain decided it would do the same. The sky darkened as we walked, but the sun was still out. By the time we'd reached the valley, the rain was coming in sheets. The sound of each, large, drop echoed on my helmet. More than one priest yelled as drop hit a soft spot. It didn't let up as we ascended the next hill.

By my recollection of the map, there should have been a town at the top of this next hill. The spacing would be about right, a town would be where you would expect to be wanting to eat again. Much like the steam engines on Earth. There's a town where they would need water, about every twelve miles, give or take. If you're counting, or go back to count, you may notice I skipped a few towns we walked through. This is primarily because we were a ways from the path by now. I'm sure we passed a few towns, but we had little interested in seeing what kind of people were in them.

This trip was weird enough without that additional knowledge.

We had no choice but to stop moving at the top of the hill where the town should have been. The rain wasn't much different than a direct pour at this point. We weren't near the end mountains, so it wasn't a fall. We moved north and the rain lessened. Quickly. It was time for a higher perspective.

Above the Rain

By this time, most of the people I traveled with knew I could become an eagle. Most didn’t like it, but they accepted it. As long as I wasn’t near them. Something about a beast brain. This is one misconception I even see here on Earth. When a lycan transforms, the brain stays the same. Size, smarts, personality. All the same. It does give a sense of releasing all inhibitions, which is mildly necessary. I personally wouldn’t eat the same thing an eagle would, but when in eagle form, I have no problem.

Rain really isn’t a good medium to turn into a flying creature, but there wasn’t a lot of choice. There had to be a reason the rain was so hard here, and it wasn’t doing well for the towns downstream. Or, what used to be a commonly traveled path.

You do hear me mention often that I traveled beside the paths for safety. This may make you wonder why anyone would take the paths. Simple. The same reason you drive on a road instead of through fields. It’s just easier and faster. Funny enough, small armed parties are a larger target than a farmer taking his grain to town. Take a town’s food, and you anger the town. Small armed parties would usually be sell-swords, and only anger that small group. Plus, we tend to carry valuable items.

At this time, the path was more of a river, and getting larger quickly. When we’d traveled far enough north where the rain turned more towards a light shower, we stopped and made a camp. And ate what would be dinner, or the last meal before sleep. I had decided to postpone sleep as did a couple others. Half would sleep, and half would stay awake. And I would fly.

I wound up flying quite high to see anything. The rain column looked just like a water fall. The same ones at the western mountains that we weren’t even that close to yet. I could see the mountains in the west. We were south enough that these would be the ring mountains that no one could climb. Looking north, I could see the other mountain range. Either would be a few dozen sleep cycles away.

The rain cloud was actually a little mesmerizing. I was able to fly around a few times. It had no beginning that I could see, it just fell from the sky much higher than I could fly. If I’d had knowledge of the matrix theory, I would have thought the computer simulation had a glitch and the falls were in the wrong spot. But, I lived in a time of gods. One of my aunts was in charge of the ocean, and another for rain. It was time for a family chat.

This wasn’t easy while flying, but there were enough updrafts I didn’t have to concentrate too much to stay aloft. Speaking toward my mother was easy, so I started with her. I let her look through my eyes, and my travel around the rain. Then, she contacted her sister. All the gods were brothers and sisters, or at least that’s how they referred to each other. None of them remember a time when they weren’t gods, and had no idea what was before. They all knew each other and had an idea of their life mission. Same for the dragons. They didn’t know where they came from, just that they had to create and destroy worlds. They remember a time before gods, but they don’t recall life on their created planets.

After some time, I was getting hungry again, I finally spoke directly with my aunt. Her first message for us to travel west to sooth her broken heart, which would stop the rain. Her second was that I should watch out for the trees.

That second message took a while to process. Maybe a little too long as I crashed into a tree. You would think the top branches would be a bit softer, and maybe they are, but broken limbs still create little pokey items that scratch and tear. I probably don’t have to say this part, but it also rained down debris on our camp. Why I couldn’t have crashed on the other side of the rain is beyond me, but it would have been a bit less embarrassing.

After a meal, the rest of us slept. This wouldn’t be a full rest, and not by my choice. The rain had begun to spread, creating small streams through our camp. All my companions could talk about was a goddess has a broken heart and is going to flood our world in response. I would like to think that the rain wasn’t tears, but I had no other explanation.

We kept moving slightly north as we worked our way west. I had a funny feeling that we would have to venture as far west as anyone could. The rain kept pushing us, guiding us west. We were able to return to the path eventually, but we saw no towns. In the day, we’d walk out of the rain, but it would catch us as we slept. The heavy pour would wake us early as we hurried to keep moving. Horses would have been nice.

About half way to the western mountains, the priests decided to attempt to speak with a god. The rest of us slept. At least I started out asleep. A new voice entered my head. Deep and slow. It told me to look into my leather bag, then ignore the destination, heading to one ninety degrees right. I used more words than it did.

My leather bag showed me a spot surrounded by ten circles on the western wall. A line showed a path from where we were. Rotating that line took use up the valley to the point that joins the western wall to the inner western mountains. The priests said they also heard the voice. They were told not to listen to me.

The priests were convinced we had to continue west, but all the soldiers were heading north. At our next meal, the priests caught up. Something about proving us wrong first, then returning to where we needed to be. Fast forward a few meals, and the map in my bag changed to our new destination. The old destination? It now showed the same location circled with ten dots, but nine of those were crossed out with red.

Now, I’m not going to say this journey was entirely interesting up to this point, but now it gets more boring. The rain was still following us. This causes some unease as we moved up the valley. If the rain positioned itself above us here, there would be no escape from the river. Instead, it just continued to push us. I was only hoping it was the entire rain cloud following and it wasn’t growing. If it was the latter, there wouldn’t be much to call home when we returned.

The entrance to the end of the valley was through a small cave. It may have been just a path, but the overgrowth made it seem very cave-like. Nothing in that cave, but the exiting view was beyond description. To either side were impossibly tall mountains. Trees would jut out from the rock face in a sporadic pattern. You could look up and see the sky, but only a small portion. The mountains dominated the upward view.

The valley floor glowed in the spotlight. The light faded as it reached the base of the sheer mountain wall. From our vantage slightly above the trees, it looked like a green carpet of trees. All different shades of green, mixed with some yellow and red. All rustling in a gentle breeze.

Then, it started to rain. There was only one path, so we took it down into the trees.

Valley of the Heart

Rain. You really don't miss it until you don't have it. And when you have a lot of it, you think you could live without it. Forever. And, when it turns a nice path into a raging river, well, you get enough for a few lifetimes.

It was unfortunate that my other party members had normal shoes. My nice shoes could create spikes that helped anchor my feet in the ever-increasing stream flowing down the path. For this journey, we stuck to the path, or at least intended to stick to the path. Soon, everyone was walking through the trees, using them as a crutch against the flow of water. You would think a goddess could rein in her emotion long enough to get help. Thinking is always a nice thing. But, it doesn't always get you anywhere.

We were all starving by the time we found some ground that was safe. A ledge in the forest. It looked as though it had been a wall at one time, but was cut by the path. The water was funneling itself through the cut, which itself was getting wider. We had enough time to eat. On the move, anyway.

Instead of fighting the water, we walked along the ledge. It wasn't high enough to view over the trees, but it also wasn't low enough to jump down. Safely anyway. You may have already guessed, but the rain did track us down and start its shower above us. The faster we walked, the faster the rain moved. Eventually, we found a second cut in the wall and was able to proceed into the valley floor. It took some time for the stream to form, but we were sure there'd be a lake at the bottom from stream number one. We were disappointed.

There certainly wasn't a lake as you'd imagine it. But there was water surrounding a small hill. Or maybe a mountain. But, it was obvious this moat had existed for a long time. On our side of the shore, there was a shack along with a dock that jutted out into the water. And, a small boat. Six or seven could fit, which was plenty considering the volunteer list. We had no ship captain, so moving across the water required physical effort with the oars. But, it would be better than getting drowned on the shore.

Thinking really isn't what it's cracked up to be. Only three of my friends came along with a priest with me on the boat. They others set up camp around the little shack. They would work to create a shelter fit enough to sleep, while fending off the expected rain. The rain followed the boat, so my thoughts were they would succeed. But only if we succeeded. I was just hoping I knew what success was.

That little line about the rain following the boat? On foot, we could keep pace with the rain, and even get ahead. Boats are much slower. And aren't very good at draining water. While two rowed, the others were busy scooping the relentless rain out of the boat. It wasn't going to be a winning effort.

As we swam ashore, the rain turned into sheets. There were no longer any drops, just continuous streams of water falling from the sky. But, it wasn't creating any rivers to fight us, just a beating from the top. We clamored into the forest, hoping the center of this island was our goal. The rain began to fall behind as we climbed through the trees. By the time we reached the top, we were being treated to a nice mist.

The top of the island was flat and bare. The trees didn't grow here, nor did any grass. The ground was slowly turning to mud. As we looked around, we noticed what looked like a bridge on the backside of the island. You could really argue that the island wasn't an island. The bridge did link the island part with the back of the valley. But, the water did run under this bridge. So, I'll continue to call it an island, if not only for the false hope it had given us.

Before the mud got too deep, we made our way toward the bridge. No rivers chased us. The rain was gaining ground, however. The other side of bridge looked to be a dead end, but only from an immense amount of vegetation. On either side of the bridge were the impossibly steep mountains. The shadows were very good at concealing most of the mountain wall, but we could still make our a few trees.

As we neared the overgrown wall, the vegetation began to move. We'd all seen this before, and you may read about something similar just below this memory. Not all vegetation is as it seems. Sometimes, it's part of a much larger creature. Although we started gripping our short swords, none of use drew them out. The priest did slow his gait as his mind raced to find the magic.

The rain started to advance. It was either go toward the living shrubbery or get washed off the bridge. Normally, I wouldn't mind a nice dive into a lake, moat, or ocean. But, this bridge wasn't very close to the water. It was close enough to see the water, but far enough to make it look like a garden stream. So, living shrubs it was. By the time we arrived, the shrubs had moved to reveal a cave entrance.

The cave was barely wider than any one of us, which is to say we had to walk in single file. It did appear to be quite tall, very similar to the cave we entered to reach the valley. It didn't seem like rock above us, but the density of the shrubbery was enough to prevent any good view of the ceiling. Eventually, the cave opened to a large area. The center of which laid a small altar. Just large enough to hold a child, but certainly not an adult.

As we approached, the others slowed. Okay, they stopped. The floor in this part of the cave didn't really inspire confidence. It felt as though we were walking on a floating mat of moss. One wrong step and we'd be swimming. As they found their sea legs, I walked up to the altar. It was empty at the moment, but it had a faint glow.

I wasn't very sure what to do at this point, so I took off a glove and placed my hand in the center of the altar. It was as soft as anything I'd ever felt. I could tell I was touching something, but it felt like nothing. Nothing was resisting my hand's movement, but allowing it complete freedom at the same time. Without thinking, I began to move my hand in random patterns, or what I thought were random patterns. The floor began to move and toss around. The floor near the altar was mostly solid.

My friends retreated out toward the cave's mouth, which had shut. After a short time, a voice said I could stop. I looked up from the altar and saw the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. I was speechless as she glided from the far wall of the cavern. I had seen goddesses before, but she was different. I was sure of it. Then, I saw why.

In her arms, she carried a small baby. Without a word, she raised the baby toward me. I replaced my glove as I took the baby from her arms. Babies this small shouldn't have been able to smile, but this one did as she looked into my eyes. A voice whispered in my ear, or head. I was told the child was mine to protect and raise. The truth would be revealed when my duty was complete.

My heart sank. How was I going to manage this?

We made our way back to the camp. The valley floor lost most of its shadow, and the rain was nowhere to be found. After a few meals and well deserved rest, we fashioned a few carriers for the baby. Our only destination now was my mother's temple. We had a slight hint as the night followed us the entire way, with the moon always in front.

As for the towns that had become river-front properties, they returned to their normal ways of life by the time I would return to any of them. But, their fear of the water would still pique my mind for quite some time.

My Little Girl

There isn't a lot of time between when I received my little girl and my horse came down with tentacle rash. This is where having such a large family comes into play. Many of them, I didn't know, but I already had enough of a reputation to trust them. Even with a daughter I didn't know I'd made.

I know I've stated this before, but a god creating a child with anyone isn't quite the romance your Hollywood would create. If you're lucky, you'll get a glimpse of the god you're creating a child with before they've made the decision. To be fair, I had seen my aunt, the rain goddess, at some time. But, I've also seen many of the gods. It's part of being in that family line, and you really don't think a lot about it.

You may be asking who carried the baby. I don't know. I do know it wasn't my aunt, nor was it me. It's possible it was someone from the race that was used as my form, but it's also possible for a stone to be used. Gods. As for during travel, I also did not carry my daughter very much. Most of my time traveling is spent protecting those I'm with. There were meal times and sleep, and those times I did spend with my new daughter. Feeding was handled by the priests.

By the time we had reached the eastern temple, she was walking fairly well. A god's child grows quite fast, if you recall. The gestation time is about ten percent of the normal period, and that growth continues right up to the time for transitioning to an adult, or a bit before. Some things don't need rushed. So, when we arrived at the temple, my daughter was already equal to a human toddler. She could walk and speak a few words, but running and jumping was clumsy.

And, it would be some time before I would be able to spend much time with her. But, that isn't the point of her life, nor her mission. That will come in time.

You may think this thought is a little short, and it will be. I knew there would be questions, so this is their answer. But, I'm going to keep this in sequence.

When we arrived at the temple, I spoke to my mother about my new daughter. She stayed in the room with me, stacking sticks into huts. Kid versions, for her pet rocks. I asked all the normal questions, like why do I have a little girl to care for, how did she get here, what happened, why me. You can guess the answers, your mother may have answered the same way. Sort of, minus the human prevention methods that don't apply here.

I also spoke with my aunt. Mainly to ask about my daughter's mission, and how to train her. The answer? I would know that later and to trust my own thoughts. And, no, she wasn't going to be a priest. A father has to try, doesn't he?

Mind growth is accelerated along with body growth. The priests would teach her all she needed, which was the same as any child would receive, just in a quicker fashion. They would also teach her physical skills she would need. By the time I would see her again, she'd be nearly a young woman. Recognizable, of course, and she wouldn't even know I was gone.

I would.

Horsey?

I’ve mentioned a few times that my horse turns to stone at some time. Well, not really stone, but something like a diamond, but not clear. More yellow or golden in color. I would have preferred green or blue, at least those would have been harder to see.

But, this isn’t about what he becomes. Maybe a little of why.

After restoring the democratic state, I took refuge in my mother’s temple for more training. Refuge? Yes. That power demonstration was a bit more taxing than I had originally thought. No body was really made to channel that much magical power, and mine was no different in that regard.

Luckily, that demonstration was enough to keep any opposition silent. Although I still looked okay from the outside, my inside was anything but. The march from the territory to my mother’s temple seemed an eternity, but it was really about sixteen meals away. I didn’t eat.

By the time we arrived, all the voices had become quiet. I thought maybe concern, but it may have been my head. I slept in one of the spires for a season. Literally.

When I awoke, the party I had arrived with had left, except for the original five. They kept training, having acquired their own battle horses. Ponies, my horse called them. I trained for another few seasons, learning how to control the energy my mace could harness. It would be a long time before I would summon that amount of force again.

There is a gap between the end of my training and this story. That gap leads here, but I’ll cover that another day.

The northern territory I had originally enlisted with also contained my mother’s temple. They knew that was my home, and were waiting for me to leave the temple grounds. Apparently, they didn’t feel I had completed my sworn duty. And I thought having their army’s commanders slaughtered would have been service enough. There was a slight difference of opinion.

The priests had been negotiating on my behalf for many seasons, but the only progress they made was a plan to get me out of the state without anyone noticing. My horse was the tricky part. He didn’t like the spires, and liked the western temple even less. So, it was a nighttime travel party. My horse left first. The guards thought it odd my horse would leave alone, but they didn’t push too far when it was said I had more injuries to heal.

Storms were often in my world. But lightning wasn’t. That night changed that. The flickering of light danced through the sky. Shadows could be seen jumping about. As the silhouettes of dragons flashed in the sky, large monsters roamed the ground. We had many bear-like and cat-like creatures, but these were different. Intentionally. I don’t know which god created the spectacle, but I knew it was the only way I was leaving peacefully. I became one of those shadows dancing in the sky.

The storm persisted for a few meals, keeping people crouched inside their houses. The final crescendo was intended to make people think the world was about to end, then the sun rose and the skies calmed. All the shadows sank to their normal hideouts, waiting for the next storm.

I caught up to my horse about half-way to Elysha’s tavern. Leyan was riding. Or sleeping, it was hard to tell. We found a clearing to reacquaint. Leyan was thankful to see that I was okay. For a short time, then she disappeared into the wood. In her place, my five friends appeared. We made camp for that night.

During the night, my shield let out blood-curdling scream. Something was approaching, and it was scared. That wasn’t usual. A whisper was normal, even if it was an army approaching, just a whisper. An unusually persistent bug also yielded a whisper. This scream even awoke my companions. They usually couldn’t hear the voices.

They also didn’t have the luxury of semi-sentient armor. By the time I was standing and aware, my armor was in place. If you count wearing a shield on your head in place. That would be fixed when I stepped out from behind the trees into the clearing. My mace singing.

I saw nothing. I heard my companions join my flank. I did bother to look to make sure who they were, that scream still echoed in my head. Sometimes, I think I hear the scream even now, several millennia later. Or so.

My horse was to my right with two of my friends. Their horses were still hiding in the trees. Literally. In the trees. Not on the ground with the trees. High in the branches, cowering. War horses.

The other three went to my left, trying to see a different angle. No one saw a thing, and the moon was dim. My shield had moved to my back by this time, peaking over my shoulder using its people-form. I still couldn’t get it to speak and say what was causing the panic. I asked my mace for more light. That didn’t work.

There was more light, but it just showed an empty field. It was still singing. A happy song, the same song it always sang before a big battle. There was nothing to hit that I could see.

Everyone started to relax, except my horse. He hadn’t stopped munching on the grass. Then, something moved. Something big. Very big.

My horse apparently found a rather tough piece of grass, both front legs braced against the ground as his mouth bit hard into the tuft of grass. He pulled with all the might of a dozen Clydesdales. Then, the clearing moved again. Not a shadow, the entire clearing. This wasn’t grass. This wasn’t a clearing. That wasn’t Leyan riding my horse. #*$#$*&(*%# wizards!!!

Remember I have talked about trees that could roam the ground? They weren’t the largest roamers. There were also hills, or what looked like hills. From below, they blocked the sun and looked like a very dense canopy. From above, they looked like a clearing in the trees. Hair, grass, it all tastes the same to horses.

The war horses hadn’t run, they were being eaten by the trees. It was too late by the time we realized where we were. My horse was too big for the trees to snatch, so he continue pulled the hair out of the head of the hill. It was time to leave, but my five friends didn’t really have a good way out. The trees, or tentacles, whichever you prefer, had closed their gaps. It was a wall.

I finally convinced my horse it was time to go. We could find more of this tasty grass somewhere else. I also convinced him to let all six of us ride as he grew in size. It all seemed to be going well, then he decided he needed more of that tasty grass. My companions were dumped rather unceremoniously on the ground at the foot of the angered hill. Thankfully, they move slowly, like you’d imagine anything of that size.

I was still clasped in place. I was going to ride back up as my horse sourced more grass. The clearing was gone. In its place were several angry tentacles. The thing about tentacles is that they can change their length rather quickly. And grab. I was starting to wish I’d kept a sword.

We fought the tentacles for what felt like an eternity. Even I was starting to get hungry, and I had become accustomed to eating in eagle form by this time. If you’re thinking that I really did have a full set of swords by now, you’re getting the same thought my weary mind had just thought of.

In a battle of tentacles and eagle talons, the talons win every time. Even grabbing an eagle leg was enough to cause significant damage. Not to mention the beak. And I was hungry, and mildly curious as to why my horse was so eager to eat this grass that had turned to lashing tentacles.

In the battle of tentacles and horses feet, the tentacles win every time. Horse hooves may have a sharp toe, but the rest of the leg is nice and soft and gentle to the touch. Tentacles love that feeling.

By the time I had beat down the tentacles, and had a full stomach, my horse had been completely ensnared. Even his fire breath wasn’t helping. His armor had been thrown in every direction as the tentacles swarmed around and through his thrashing body.

That scream my shield had made? I found I could do that as well, at least in this form. As the sound wave hit the tentacles, they all retreated. My horse falling into the now-peaceful clearing. The hill even stopped moving. My horse’s voice fell to a whisper.

Northern Battle

After the hill battle, we had to finish our journey on foot. To Elysha’s tavern to gather an army. The northern army wasn’t going to harm the temple, so there really was no reason to rush to its aid. I definitely couldn’t wait a season, but I had time to gather a proper army.

The problem was gathering an army with commanders that were on foot. My friends’ horses were completely consumed by the hill, but Moon Racer survived. Kinda.

We were able to free him from the tentacles, which had reverted back to trees. Broken trees. They were thinner as well. We knew it wouldn’t be long before the hill healed itself and staying there wasn’t going to be an option. Being created by a god, Moon Racer couldn’t be consumed like the other horses. His body was like poison to the hill. There were two reasons to remove his body from the trees. Hills actually make good allies. If you don’t eat them.

After a solemn reunion with Leyan and Elysha, we gathered an army near the western temple. I had expected a couple hundred men to join. I was greatly mistaken. I couldn’t see the end of the line when I looked back over the marching army. This was going to be quite the surprise for the north. An army like this marching through a spire at a temple. I was hoping the sight would be enough to remove the will of their army to fight.

Moon Racer would have to stay at the western temple. Klarys and the priests would care for him there. For now, I had a standard war horse. Klarys had found a nice set of armor that matched my armor, though maybe not quite as polished. Yet. I could fix that later.

Normally, I would have set up camp on the temple grounds and led the army after a good rest and a few good meals. But, with an army this size, that wasn’t going to be possible. The grounds were too small here. So, we had a second plan, which kinda hinged on the northern army being in awe of the mass of soldiers coming through the spire. I would guess it would take most of the time between meals.

You hear me talking about meals quite often. It was really the only time-keeping we used. Most people ate four or five times a day, sleeping after the final meal. As you may guess with our hectic day and night schedule, people kept varying sleep times. If you ate a meal with someone and they slept while you stayed awake, you would eat one meal without them, and then join them with the next. It seemed our meals were evenly spaced and hunger occurred in a regular pattern, but we had no clocks. So, who’s to say? There were exceptions, of course, like marching armies. But, for people settled into a regular pattern, it seemed meals were consistent.

As we streamed through the spire, I took the army in an ever-growing circular pattern around the temple grounds. It truly was a sight to see. The spire glowed as the army passed into the northern state. The night sky took over and the spire continued to glow. Not only was the glow bright enough to see for some distance, it was a unique sight for the area. The spires would typically only transport a single priest. Occasionally. Due to the northern state’s siege of the temple, my mother allowed the spire to transport an army. She would later complain that it was exhausting and her arms were tired. I had no response then, and I have none now.

You may be asking why an army was needed. The northern state would never harm the temple, and I was more than capable of handling the northern commanders. This actually leads into my overall reason for being. The northern state was one of the states that had unbalanced the magic field. They were producing more and more wizards, even when priests from all temples asked them to let the weave heal itself. Priests were often sent back to the temples in bags tied to their own horses. The gods were not happy with the symbolism, but less happy with the total disrespect.

The magic tapestry was key to keeping the world working, including some of the gods’ powers. They would retain most of their power, but creating worlds could become impossible. How many worlds did the gods create? I never found out.

The only way to stop the northern state was to replace the government. Completely. This was no small task, especially since this state controlled a large portion of the ocean and much of the frozen lands. We were close to the center of power, but even that doesn’t guarantee the original government members wouldn’t concentrate their power in another town. People knew who they were and weren’t about the risk retaliation.

Unless they’re given some help. From a massive army.

I slowed our spiral out of the spire to form a larger column. It wound up looking more like an arrowhead. With me at point. After my last over-use of my mace’s power, I made sure to keep my power in the less building-killing realm. It’s just as impressive to knock down a door as it is to erase an entire building. At least if you hadn’t witnessed the latter.

Just like the commanders that let us lose on that southern beach so long ago, these commanders and officials were quick to retreat, leaving their unfortunate subordinates to fight for them. Most of them were too young for any serious training and really made no resistance to the seasoned soldiers I led.

After a victory feast in the first town, we marched to the next town. Then the next. Then the next. We marched town to town for a couple seasons. Chasing the officials onto the ocean.

This is when I met my aunt. Yes, my mother’s sister. Sort of, as much as any god has a sister. She had noticed the magic tapestry was repairing itself. Fewer wizards were tapping into its power.

Just to go back a little, we did encounter a wizard or two in our chase. They typically held some resistance, but they weren’t keen on sacrificing themselves for cowards that would flee someone as weak as me. At least, that’s what they’d say before running for the hills. Why would they be scared of me? My armor absorbs magical damage, which charges my mace. And my shield. Hit me with a fireball, and my shield will throw back a snowball if my mace doesn’t strike you with lightning or a subtle nudge.

Back to my aunt. She had fled into the depths of the ocean, since the crying of the tapestry was painful for her to listen to. She noticed the ships being chased, and by whom. We had started to commandeer a few ships when the water left the beach. Our ship’s keel slammed into the sandy bottom, tipping slightly before the captain was able to use his magic to keep it straight. As he was cursing, he looked back into the ocean and promptly dropped his ship.

The water hadn’t just disappeared, it had created a massive swell. It was difficult to judge the distance or height, but it had definitely caught the coward’s ship near the top, and they were starting to slide down the face. The beach was quickly evacuated. Ships and gear abandoned.

There were three large ships the cowards had commandeered. Large. Very large. I give their captains credit for keeping them aligned with the massive wave, but I also know our ships were not supposed to go that fast. Water was blasting off the nose of the ship, spraying for what probably would be over a thousand feet. These ships were made of timber.

Since everyone was running, I quickly sprang into eagle form to get a good view of what was going on. As the first of the ships approached the base of the water, it straightened out on a path for the old beach. If I had to guess, the water had retreated over two miles. The top of each of the ships made it to the original beach. The rest had been sanded away by the ocean bottom.

I was able to get enough of my army assembled to meet the cowards on the beach. The water was still looming in the distance. You would have expected them to surrender. They were government officials and not soldiers. That was apparent when they attacked my army with sticks and rocks.

After that short scuffle, my army and I knelt, praying to my aunt. The ocean slowly returned to its form, swallowing what was left of the ships and those that had commandeered them. This was the first time I would lead a nation.

A Leader's Goal

Leading a nation wasn't something I was initially interested in. Nor trained for. An army? Not a big problem, but I wasn't very good at that. Unlike my more recent friend, Aushlin Xhunder. Of course, he also led nations. Planets would be more correct. But, he always said he preferred the ships in space. All the comforts of a planet without the unpredictable weather.

As a more humble leader, at this time, my first task was to get out of that position. For two reasons really, the first I've already stated, the other was that I didn't see how that'd help me with my mission. Even if I had no real idea what my mission really was or how I was going to achieve it. In hindsight, I should've have kept this nation and gathered more. Maybe I would have succeeded.

In order to transfer power, I had to find someone I could trust. Someone with my same goals. At this time in my life, I hadn't thought of eliminating money, or any other form of currency. I was more focused on creating peace through force. I didn't want to keep the war mentality, but I also saw the advantage of having a massive army. People just didn't attack you. So I thought. I'm sure the Romans had similar thoughts, and look at them now.

What were my morals at this age? Not the best. There would be taxes paid by businesses, along with fees for starting a business. Even farms were businesses. There were some social behavior rules, required work, entry fees, exit fees, police fees, this fee, that fee, too many fees. No one argued.

Not even at the social rules. And they were not good. Not really evil, but definitely over-controlling. My people liked to be controlled, and I can admit I drank from that glass and enjoyed it. But, I gave myself a very short time limit to leave that position as the national leader. Two seasons. The first to set all these horrid rules, and the second to find the new leadership. I left a democracy in my wake. Of course, it would self-destruct later, long before I built my castle. But, my nation prospered for a few years.

Trade was one of my larger goals. I set up trade upon the ocean and from the ice-lands to the sand-lands. But, for me, setting up trade routes was more about finding clues to my mission. My map certainly helped. Anytime I followed it's lead, I wound up with a trade route, even thought that was secondary.

One such adventure took me to the nation on the southwestern border. It was a small nation, and really not a lot more than it's capital. And many farms. It did have some smaller towns scattered around, but most weren't much more than trading centers for the farmers in the area. Think of a big farmer's market, then add some sleeping accommodations and a tavern or three. This was definitely a food nation. Monarchy. That's all you really need in a nation like this.

So, why was my map here? It wasn't for a horse, or anything really farm related. To go back just a little, I would usually travel with a few diplomats along with a handful of troops. And maybe a priest or two. It's always good to have a priest along. At least that had always been my claim.

No, my map was more interested in one of the forges in this nation. One man was making plows and other tools for everyone in the area. And they never wore down. If you've ever worked soil, you know that it behaves much like sandpaper on steel. Not very aggressive sandpaper, but over many years, the metal slowly erodes as it works the ground.

But, not this man's steel. It always stayed as sharp as the day it left his shop, and no one ever came back to replace one of his parts that wore out. This was interesting. And not as easy to find as my map would suggest.

There were many forges in this nation. One in every market, and that would be neglecting the small forges that nearly every farmer kept. Every farmer knew of the tale about the ever-lasting steel, but none knew its origin. Or so I was told.

Just like being a poker player on Earth, it was easy to spot someone hiding something on my world. Maybe it's a knack I brought with me, although still not the one I would choose to have here on Earth. What were they hiding? That was more interesting to me. But not to the diplomats. The soldiers were of course interested. My mace was also interested, but for more personal reasons. It never would wear either.

I spent about half my leadership time in this nation. The trade routes were very beneficial. Every market wanted a route to a shop in my nation, and we had enough shops to take in all they could supply. And more. When the diplomats had started getting more nervous about being away so long, we finally came to the right market. In the middle of the market stood a single, large forge. It was empty. There were some raw materials laying around, and some half-started works, but no person running the forge. And there hadn't been for some time. He'd just left one day never to return.

I was reminded several times that a nation's leader doesn't chase missing persons reports. Even as I searched the area for an abandoned house. All the houses kept their families safe, and none harbored a blacksmith of any caliber. Nails, yes. Plows and tools, no.

Something wasn't quite right with those results. And everyone's reactions to my questions. I finally found a house with a young child near the parent. You want the open truth, make sure an unfiltered mouth is nearby. When I asked the adults, loud enough for the child to hear, the adults of course said they didn't remember anyone ever using that forge, it just collected dust. But, the young child asked about the guy that was using it the last time they had gone there. Yesterday. They child was sent away before I could ask another question, but my blood had its answer.

I wasn't leaving, and this farmer realized I wasn't just a diplomat, thankfully for his young child. His eyes started shifting, looking around his farm. I don't remember if my people really could sweat, but my memory has this many with a wet face, beads of sweat racing down his face. It was snowing. His voice quieted, as he said he really shouldn't talk.

This was about the time I removed my diplomat cloak, revealing the near-chrome armor underneath. And a drooling mace. After assuring the man he wouldn't be harmed by anyone else, he finally opened up. And, he was right to fear the blacksmith. Even I had a small tinge of fear.

Is that painful?

There may be some links that don't take you to the correct location, I've sent some help messages to see if I can get that fixed. Unfortunately, the help chat thing is missing. So, no quick fix. No, this isn't the continuation of the last memory, that's below here. You should be getting used a few rabbit holes here and there. You really can't read too much into that.

I'm sure you're curious about that blacksmith. So was I. The first thing you should have been curious about was the dusty look of the forge, even though it had just been used. That's foreshadowing. I hope you caught that. I didn't.

Of course, there are two people, or types of people, that could have left something in that disorder. One would be a god, and the other are those blasted dirt beings. That worshipped that god. But, the latter was almost never seen in a town with regular people, they tended to keep to their own towns. Which were usually formerly occupied by people like me. But not at the same time.

So, that leaves a god. And why would a god be using a forge for one, and why would he be hiding from me. One of those is obvious.

As for why he'd be using a forge, I was one of the many thankful people for that. Not only did he make farm implements, but also a random assortment of armor and weapons. Previously, I'd stated I really didn't know where all of my equipment came from. And, that is true. I suspect I wound up with items from this forge, but this wasn't where my mace and shield were created. And, as I mentioned, I wore through more than one set of armor. At least, early in my life. I would eventually find a piece of armor with a lifetime that would match my own. If you could call it armor, anyway.

So, that leaves the why a god would hide from me question. At this time, I had no idea. Later, I would have many ideas. If you recall from future memories, my mission was fixing the imbalance in the magic field before Drak-Bar woke up. We'll call these the evil element. Only because I'm going to consider myself to be good. Not everyone would share my perspective, but you'll have to bear with it. It's the only one you get.

This god would have a better idea of why I was created, much before I would know. At this time, my only intent was to ask him for help. And trade. We would wind up trading.

Sorry for the delay, I was thirsty.

As you may imagine, finding a god isn't the easiest task. First, gods could come and go at will. They had no real rule for staying in their corporeal form. That form was really just an energy field manipulated to look like something. There really was not much corporeal about their corporeal forms. At least the ones on the planet. There are many problems, as you could imagine, and prevents many things, as you can dirtily imagine. Sure, if they were to strike you, it would hurt. But it wasn't a fist hitting you, it was pure, magical energy. That hurts a lot more.

After a few reasonably normal day-night cycles, I was able to track down a couple of the town's children playing out of sight of adults. Yes, that sounds creepy. But, even on Earth, children were once allowed to play in a park without direct parental supervision. And, in some countries that's still allowed. Think about it.

If you're curious, no, I didn't inherit that shape-shifting ability from my mother. Nor the energy manipulation aspect. I could heal, heat, and cool. But not save, blast, and freeze. I would eventually learn to control the heat and cool to be lethal, but my healing was never as good as a priest. Some would call them necromancers, but they usually didn't really go quite that far. The gods would, however. If they liked you enough. Like being operative.

One of these children was the one I had gotten the first set of information from. Now, his parents did fill in the details nicely in that I was looking for the god of fire, but they didn't know where he went. Now you may be curious about the dusty look to the forge, even though it had just been used the day before. And fire really doesn't go along with dust. But, it does go along with soot. Soot is mostly carbon based, so black. Slag is from metal burning, as from a forge. And, the god of fire really did burn everything around him, when he wasn't focused on controlling his own magic. This means everywhere he went, he left a trail of burned everything if he didn't put part of his mind to the task of hiding that aspect. That only explains the nature of the forge. When he wondered off, he didn't leave more than footsteps. If that much.

The children noticed. And, as children do, they had a habit of following people that were mysterious. At least for a while. They were happy to show me and my small entourage the direction Fire usually left town. A smarter me would have sent for a small army, or at least a few friends. Friends being ice mages. Youth and smart don't really go together, even though I was shedding my youth aspect. If you have youth and are reading this, read it again in twenty years. Set yourself a task in the cloud. Or whatever thing will be able to remind you in twenty years.

One thing Fire would be good at doing is preparing food, like the dish I put together last weekend. Simple, really. Fry up some bacon in a pan. You don't need the bacon, just the oil left behind. Leave just enough to brown some hashbrowns. Then, add in a mix of vegetables you like. I used the frozen kind with many things. Then, add in some chicken, and finally some cubed Spam. I used bacon flavor for redundancy. If you don't like Spam for some odd reason, use pork or beef. You could use tofu, but it doesn't bring a lot of flavor with it. Finally, I covered mine with some Korean barbeque sauce after removing the pan from the heat. I could have added some more spice, or used American barbeque sauce, but it made for a good few lunches. The bacon would become a salad topper.

Another thing Fire was good at was hiding. He was staying planet-side, but hiding. You really can't hide from the gods, they really do know where everyone is at any one time. If they care to look, which they don't. Usually. The priests were easy to convince to follow. The diplomats went home. None of the towns-folk were interested in following, but there happened to be a few adventurers in the tavern. And I had money.

As we followed the footpath, one of the adventurers noted how the grass looked more burned than it was worn. They didn't know who we were trying to find. Just that I had some really expensive looking armor. And a shield that moved on its own. It had to be expensive. It wasn't, as you know.

The footpath became more and more overgrown, and more like burned footprints. There were no branches off this path. No caves. No settlements. The wear didn't seem very normal. A couple adventurers left. Butterflies, I guessed. Wrongly. They were smart.

We finally came upon a cave. Because, why not. There were many caves in my world. It was sometimes hypothesized that our ancestors built homes of earth, and those would later become caves to us. It was a nice hypothesis. You'll learn the reality later.

The cave was fairly dark, as they tend to be. By now, the foot path was just that. A series of trumped-down grassy footprints that showed a hint of being burned. The priests shouted into the cave, asking if anyone was inside. They did mention they were priests as well. Most people wouldn't harm a priest. Most people aren't especially smart. Priests had no issue hurting most people. I'm sure you've already guessed that there was no answer. Hiding people usually don't give out their location that easily.

So, we lit up some hanging torches and ventured inside. I led. After all, my armor was pretty good at holding fire breath at bay. Did you see a shadow?

My mace started rattling against my thigh, begging to be picked up. My shield moved onto my arm. No amount of coaxing would move it back to my chest, where it would show a less aggressive posture. My armor also started to vibrate. It was anxious. The only thing any of us could see in the cave were the flickering shadows from the mages torches. They somewhat resembled real fire, but without all the downsides.

The light from outside disappeared behind us as we walked deeper, and further down into the cave. We finally came to a small room. It looked empty at first. But, a flash of light disagreed with that assessment as I felt a bolt of fire pierce through my chest. Actually, it was Fire's fist. Gods move very fast when they want.

As you may expect, this is about where my memory of this cave ends. You don't remember a lot of new things when you die. When you wake back up, it's a little fuzzy at first. I was no longer in the cave though.

It seems this shoe page is getting a little long. Maybe it's time to add a different page to the menu. I'll have to think that over.

Something different, can you guess what?

We currently have one person in our team who is a specialist in the wheat industry, one who is a specialist in the barley industry and one of our experienced farmers. We are proud to say that we are one of the few companies who are making the best use of sustainable livestock. We have a wide range of organic products - we have a wide range of different varieties of wheat and barley and we have also developed our own organic wheat and barley variety. We are also proud to produce our own organic beef and our own organic pork. We are also proud to produce our own organic milk and organic yoghurt. We are a brand with the potential to drive people to buy organic products.

From Death to Trading

One more in the shoe section. Just because this fits with the prior memory. Fits is likely the wrong word, as it will be the finish to that memory, so it's really just one memory spread over a couple sections. Color bands to you.

Yes, this was the second time I was killed. That eagle did the first job, and this time it was Fire's turn. I think it was the same spot in my chest, though.

I woke up some time later somewhere I didn't recognize. Not that I would have recognized any place in my state of mind. My armor, shield, and mace were sitting in a chair across the room. If you're curious, my shield wasn't in the way of the hit, only my armor. And, it was slightly dull, so it had been repaired. Or replaced. My first thought was that I needed to polish things. My weapon was looking dull as well.

My first motion from the bed was enough to lay me back down into the bed. Forcefully. I wasn't healed, but I also was no longer dead. After the stars cleared from my vision, I found a few healing threads. They didn't work, but they did help the pain just a little. It was about this time one of my priests walked in.

She was fairly young from my recollection. And thoroughly confused about my obsession with polishing my weapon. Maintenance. It doesn't matter what you're maintaining, a lack of maintenance will definitely hurt you in the end. The young part is also important. Her healing magic wasn't much better than mine, but I do recall waking up with my weapon next to me in my bed. It would need more work. Or at least more complete work. I'm guessing I fell asleep in the middle of the job, some parts were well polished, others not so much.

It was also much darker the second time I woke up. A different priest walked in with a mage to recharge the lights. It'd been night since I'd taken a Fire shot through my chest. You may have guessed it would have been just the opposite. With my mother tending to making sure I wouldn't die, she wouldn't have time to keep the night constant. Just the opposite. There was no moon in the night sky. The gods would be convening in some meeting, which was usually enough to throw off our day and night cycles.

It is much nicer on a planet that orbits a star. Days and nights may not be the same every day, but the change is subtle. Unless you live on the equator.

I would wake up a few more times before trying to sit up again. In fact, it wasn't until my mother showed up. With Fire behind her. I've already mentioned how gods will make you in total awe when in their presence. That was still the case, but Fire looked like a young child that had just been handed the punishment of a lifetime. In his eyes. I would never be told the entire story, but Fire and I would eventually become quite good friends. As much as you can be friends with a god.

By the time I was walking, there had been an election in my nation. Since I hadn't returned, I was presumed dead and had been replaced. It was a happy day. Not as happy as when I would return later, but that's not for now.

I still don't know how many seasons passed before I ventured again, but it was likely less than ten. And probably only a couple. Long enough to be forgotten, but short enough to be remembered. That is important.

It was time for some reunions. And to find those responsible for my last layover.

Oh, I may have left something out. Yes, Fire was a god, and, yes, he was the one that put his fist through my chest. But, he wasn't himself. This goes back with Drak-bar waking up. The gods were panicked, which was to be expected. Dragons are much more powerful than gods. You could even say the gods only had their power because of the dragons. You wouldn't be too far off.

But, gods weren't the only powerful beings. And they were susceptible. You'll learn more about this later. Maybe next time, maybe next year. I haven't decided.