Green Planet

by Anthony E. Southby

  ‘I’ve got it! I don’t believe it! I’ve finally found this damned pocket of mine!’ he screamed loudly in his thoughts, blasting through his nostrils in relief.

  As he worked his long fingers into the sleek opening, he felt a sharp stabbing sensation on his right shin. Fortunately his legs weren’t bound, so he lashed his right leg forward in pain and sent one of the leeches plummeting to the ground.

  ‘What on earth was that?’ His cheeks went bright red in response to the sharp spikes piercing his leg, and he scrunched his face in agony as the blood oozed from his shin. He held his pocket tightly, careful not to lose his grip at any cost. Alarmed by the sudden stabbing, he fumbled hurriedly into his pocket and pulled out his little pocket knife.

  He slowly drew it into his bound hand, careful not to let it slip and drop to the ground. The little blade appeared quite feeble against the thick coils of the creeper, and his attempt at an escape looked almost impossible.

  Chimzen wheezed through his nose, finding it more and more difficult to breathe with all the activity. Perspiration dripped onto his robe while he flicked open the little blade. Pointing the sharp instrument downwards, he started rubbing his thumb against its handle in a small circular motion. ‘What on earth was that?’ he thought, getting a nasty fright as one of the bloodsuckers attached itself to the open wound. ‘That’s strange, it feels almost like a warm wet rag.’ Holding the knife firmly, he repeatedly flung his leg forward in an effort to rid himself of the sucking parasite. It clung to him firmly, not in the slightest bit disturbed by all the frantic kicking. He scrunched his face in agony as the bloodsucker increased pressure on his wounded leg, drawing out volumes of blood. He tried to calm himself again but found it more and more difficult to breathe. He had to stay motionless for a while to draw the air deeply in through his nostrils, and prevent himself from becoming panic-stricken.

  ‘Ouch!’ And again another one rolled up over his left leg, spiking him with a row of gaping holes. The poor wizard flung his left leg forward in fright, and sent the leech hurtling to the ground before it could attach itself and suck his blood.

  ‘I must get down from here, before this thing sucks the life out of me,’ he thought, fumbling desperately with the little knife. Keeping his legs raised up this time, he rubbed the small knife handle with his thumb, clockwise three times and anti-clockwise three times. Instantly the knife blade sprang out, increasing to about five times its usual length. The long blade started smoking, and rapidly turned from ordinary steel into a deadly sword of fire.

  He forced the fiery blade up towards the binding creepers, severing through them with the greatest of ease. The air filled with an unpleasant smell of roasted sap as the knife scorched through the solid coils. As the fire surged through their severed coils, the stubborn creepers binding his body released their grip with the sound of a cracking whip. His staff slipped from his side and went hurtling towards the ground.

  Unfortunately for him, a creeper was still tightly strapped around his face, holding his head firmly against the tree. It cut into his cheeks with his full body weight suspended from it. Careful not to cause himself any harm, the struggling wizard placed the fiery sword cautiously next to his face and scorched the last of the dangerous coils.

  Now this was the tricky part: finally free from the snare, he came plummeting towards the ground. In absolutely no time at all he removed a bottle of creamy red ointment from his right pocket and swiftly rubbed a blob onto each one of his shoe soles.

  ‘Yes I did it! Just in time!’ he triumphed, landing feet first on the ground below and bouncing back up into the air, reaching almost the same height from which he had just fallen. Fortunately he had taken the magic jumping ointment with him that Squidget had demonstrated in his tree house with the boys, otherwise he would have been as flat as a pancake.

  * * * * * * * *

  He launched quite a distance before bouncing to a standstill, dodging trees and bushes along the way. He puffed and panted, having a short rest from his desperate struggle. He was very relieved to be back on solid ground again. He held the fiery sword in his left hand and turned it towards the parasite attached to his right leg.

  ‘How dare you suck on me, you filthy leech!’ he shouted, slashing the cactus leech several times across its prickly back in anger. The smouldering sticky remains folded over and rolled to the ground. He clutched his throbbing leg and carefully examined his blood-soaked shin. It really wasn’t a very pleasant sight, and it stung like fire.

  Chimzen looked up into the trees, staring at all the shifting outlines of the leaves and branches against the bright moonlit sky. His eyes appeared glazed as he limped back to the tree, where he had first been held captive, to find his precious staff. He could feel his blood starting to boil as the adrenaline surged rapidly through his veins. He marched on, ignoring the pain in his legs, while his body trembled with fury. The wicked forest loomed above him waiting for an opportunity to seize, but too threatened by the fiery sword to take any immediate action. Two brave creepers lashed out from the ground in an attempt to drag the wizard off his feet.

  ‘Don’t you even dare!’ he yelled, jumping high into the air out of harm’s reach. As he descended to the ground, another four vines flung themselves at him from the trees directly above. He lashed out his fiery sword, slashing all four vines in one determined swoop.

  Seemingly harmless flowers, quite similar looking to sunflowers, only with multicoloured petals, uprooted themselves and sprang out in front of the furious wizard. They tilted their wide flower heads up at a slight angle like homing cannons on a gunship, and began firing their hard black seeds at the unsuspecting wizard. The seeds stung his wounded legs, causing him to yell in pain.

  He flung himself at the wicked plants, slashing them into pieces with his deadly sword. Singed flower petals and plant stems flew in all directions, spread across the ground like a glorified wedding ceremony. The raging wizard took a flying leap into the air to escape the sudden onslaught of feisty plants attacking from all directions.

  As he landed, six creepers attacked from behind, binding him tightly and strapping him firmly to a tree once again. The fierce jolt forced the fiery sword out of his hand, and it flared to the ground below like a wasted petrol bomb.

  He gasped for air, feeling relieved that at least the twisting creeper hadn’t strapped his mouth closed. He had to think quickly though because he was strapped to the base of the tree and the army of plants were fast approaching.

  ‘Now how does it go? What is it? Why can’t people ever remember anything when they are under pressure?’ he muttered, trying to remember the relevant spell that his life depended on. ‘Ah yes! I’ve got it! Thank goodness!’

  ‘Little pocket knife, powerful fiery sword!

  Come perform your magic, release me from these cords!’

  In an instant the fiery sword sprang up from the ground and made a dart towards the anxiously awaiting wizard. The fiery blade slashed through the creepers like a skilled chef chopping vegies, taking extra care not to hurt its master. The remains of the leafy vines hastily retreated and disappeared into the darkness.

  At this stage the troop of plants were firing their nasty seeds from all directions, only angering him all the more. He jumped clear of the surrounding plants and headed back swiftly in search of his staff. His poor right leg was in a lot of pain and all the jumping wasn’t helping his shins very much. The creepers seemed to have learnt their lesson and stopped plaguing him for the time being. However, every other plant in the forest was up in petals, making his search as difficult as possible.

  ‘I think this is where I dropped it,’ he muttered, fumbling in amongst the fallen leaves under a large oak tree.

  ‘I only hope that these treacherous plants haven’t taken it and hidden it somewhere.’ He was deeply worried, with no sign of the precious magic stick. He turned around hastily; it felt like he had been shot several times with a pellet gun and his back stung terribly.

  ‘O
uch! You tribe of petalled weeds! I’ll kill the lot of you!’ he roared, inundated by dozens of vicious brightly coloured guerrilla flowers, all spitting seeds at him from all directions. He lashed out his flaming sword in rage, decapitating several warring plants at the stem, and stripping them of dangerous seed ammunition. This made no impact on the determined troop. They continued marching forward with hope of victory by sheer numbers.

  Gaining temporary control of the militant sunflower brigade, Chimzen looked around and noticed several similar oak trees with purple leaves lined up next to each other.

  ‘I must have been mistaken, I was looking under the wrong tree,’ he muttered, confronting a hail of nasty seed. ‘I need some space. This never ending green army is becoming impossible to control.’

  Holding the fiery blade up to the sky he addressed the little sword:

  ‘Little pocket knife, powerful fiery sword,

  Slashing fiercely in the night, at your own accord,

  With the skill of a Samurai and the deadly warring knight,

  Go forth in victory, slashing deadly plants left and right.’

  After chanting the powerful spell, he flung the blazing sword into the air and watched as the fiery blade slashed forward to confront the determined plants. Rubbing his hands together, the wizard smirked as the sword independently sliced the plant bandits into blazing little pieces. The confrontation was meaningless to the sword. The faster they attacked the more swiftly it defended. Whatever tactics they used were useless against the incredible potency and accuracy of the fiery blade.

  ‘Ah good! Now I can continue with my search.’ Chimzen was not impressed with the persistently aggressive attitude that possessed Floran. He would never resort to such violence under normal circumstances, but these circumstances weren’t really normal.

  * * * * * * * *

  Breathing a big sigh of relief, he limped to the next oak tree and searched the ground carefully, but there was nothing to be found.

  ‘I suppose I could summon it,’ he thought, scratching his beard, ‘but it would have to be somewhere in hearing range. Let me try.’

  He raised his arms over his head and began to chant in a foreign language:

  ‘Ke bres kan te riste han jiste, ka zes toe kis!’

  He heard a rustling sound under a tree slightly further on. His staff popped out from under a pile of dead leaves; it came flying towards him, and landed neatly across his outstretched hands.

  ‘Oh so that’s where you were hiding! So glad to have you safely back!’ he cried, giving it a smacking kiss on the handle.

  He held his old friend firmly at his side, while watching the magical sword shred thousands of determined guerrilla plants. Scorched flower heads and singed petals lay scattered in all directions, piled up in large sticky smouldering heaps. The forest beings were determined to have their victory no matter what the cost.

  Chimzen shook his head, not at all pleased with their wicked warring attitude.

  ‘I only hope that those poor boys are still alive; judging by my current situation there’s a good chance that they will both be dead by now.’ He knew that they were his responsibility and he would never forgive himself if they had come to any harm.

  He decided to head back to the open enclosure where they had found the Frego flower. He might have a better idea of where to start hunting for them if he went back there. Most importantly, he needed to find the trio because they would assist him greatly with the search. It had been a very long night for him and the sun would fortunately rise within a couple of hours, placing things into a far clearer perspective.

  Chimzen had a fairly good sense of direction and headed back towards the open enclosure, limping slightly from the pain in his legs. The ground was a mess with scattered remains of warring plants. The fiery sword floated up ahead, always ready to slay its next victim. He quickly looked around, tripping over a heap of scorched plant matter. He could hear the familiar sound of dinosaur screams echoing not too far behind.

  ‘Oh no, not them again!’ he cried in frustration. ‘I’m sick and tired of all this nonsense!’ Rapidly approaching from behind were an army of three legged leafy balls, screeching at the top of their cabbage lungs. The forest was in the process of waging a full-scale war, sending in deadly reinforcements gathered from all over. The green balls approached him at an amazing speed, hurtling forward on their springy spinach legs. There must have been over a thousand of them, all different sizes, flapping open and closed like a crocodile in a feeding frenzy, each displaying several rows of brown twiggy teeth.

  The little fiery sword made a sudden U-turn, eager to confront the cabbage ball army head-on. Chimzen leapt into the air, launching himself as far forward as he possibly could. He must have jumped tree height, leaving an enormous gap between himself and the approaching Brussels sprout army. The poor little sword was overwhelmed by the enormous onslaught, and struggled to keep the leafy beasts at bay.

  The fiery sword lashed forward showing spectacular skill, slashing the leafy monsters by the dozen, and leaving behind a pile of scorched salad. It was no use; the poor little sword just couldn’t cope with an army of such magnitude. The balls sprinted ahead, forcing the little sword to one side. Their numbers were far too much for the little fiery blade to cope with and only allowed it a few insignificant slashes.

  Chimzen had gained a fair amount of ground by then, and the wicked screeching sounds were well out of hearing range. He stood quietly for a moment to take in a few deep breaths, his face an expression of agony.

  Then the furious wizard grabbed his staff with both hands and held it high above his head. His body was shaking with a rush of adrenaline and his eyes glowed like a raging furnace.

  ‘Now you have really pushed things too far, you treacherous green scum!’ he yelled, pushed to the end of his supply of abundant patience. Then he proceeded to reveal the side of him no one wishes to see – a side not easily provoked, yet a side as real as day is to night:

  ‘Precision carved from a tree!

  Finest wood ascribed to me!

  Absorb my power faithful tool!

  Let neon purple magic rule!

  A great protective power shield!

  Reactive surge my fear must yield!

  Rotate above me this very night!

  God help this place if I should fright!’

  Totally fed up, the wizard chanted the potent rhyme. With those words, he released the staff and watched it hover directly above him with an uneven wagon wheel rhythm. His eyes were alight like fiery coals as he watched the magic staff rotate gently above like a ceiling fan on a low speed. It glowed neon purple, alive with gentle surges of electrical energy. The neon purple current spilled from either end like electric splashing water and connected to the ground below, emitting wild sparks on contact. He took several deep breaths to calm himself in his volatile frame of mind, and proceeded almost cautiously with his journey.

  The forest watched as he walked, unthreatened by the neon purple glow. They saw no sign of the fiery sword, and this was to them the perfect opportunity to seize him.

  Again six leafy creepers lashed out from the trees. He was all too familiar with the whipping sound they made, and quickly turned to face the attackers. The creepers had made a big mistake; it wasn’t a very good idea to increase his blood pressure; it would have a certain negative effect on their general wellbeing.

  The staff immediately responded to his increased heart rate and started to spin faster. The calm electrical surge increased its intensity, rising off the ground and lashing out fiercely in all directions. The creepers were administered an incredibly powerful surge of neon purple voltage, roasting them to oblivion. Nearby trees and plants all took the hit, and the powerful current transformed them into a smouldering sticky mess within an instant.

  Chimzen’s blood pressure continued to rise as a result of the unsettling disturbance, causing the staff to accelerate in an uneven motion. The staff resembled a miniature big wheel like the ones seen
at a crowded carnival. It was all lit up with brilliant ultra-violet light spinning wildly out of control, in the process of erupting into a magnificent neon electrical storm of atomic proportion.

  The wizard inhaled deeply several times, trying his best to keep calm and remain in control of his unstable emotions. The magic stick had already absorbed an incredible amount of negative stress energy by then, which caused it to spin dangerously out of control, spreading the fiery electrical storm out further. It destroyed every demonic shrub and tree within close range, reducing them all to ashes.

  After a long moment of serious concentration, he managed to stifle his anger. The rotating staff slowed down drastically, and the unpredictable white electrical surges slowly settled to the ground once again.

  The staff resumed a slow wobble, with streaks of purple electricity flowing to the earth like an unpredictable live wire, spraying purple-white sparks in all directions.

  Chimzen’s face was pale and he looked quite ill. The smell coming from the smouldering remains was absolutely horrible. It wasn’t just a smell of smouldering plant matter; it was like the destruction of an underlying ghastly evil.

  ‘I guess you had better tell your leafy ball friends to quit while they’re ahead! Unless you really want to learn a lesson!’ he yelled, addressing the forest like an intensely paranoid madman, just escaped from psychiatric lock-up. ‘I think I’m wasting my time. You are so wicked you will challenge me to your bitter end!’

  He heard the leafy beasts screaming in the distance and could feel his heart rate accelerating rapidly. The staff glowed brightly, rapidly increasing its rotation speed, and caused the earthed neon purple energy to rise off the ground with violent fury. He turned to face the oncoming army, literally panting with rage.

  ‘I-have-had-enough!’ he roared, his blood pressure rising to a dangerous level, causing his face to glow brightly red.