“You have?” Muoma rubbed the side of his stiff neck.
“Yes. Who else you think let you go toe to toe with Kese,” he pointed to the man-bird that now had a beak full of seeds. “I needed to know how far someone would go for a friend.
You may see it already, but humans are a selfish sort. Only doing things that benefit them with no consideration for others, truly despicable.”
Muoma thought of what the princess told him why he cursed her. “Eshu,” he mustered up the strength before answering, “didn’t you curse my princess because she denied to wed you?”
Eshu eyed Muoma with agitation for a moment. He replied after careful consideration, “I
did, but also because she became full of herself. Her beauty led her to believe she was above every human. I had no choice but to teach her humility.”
“I ask you on her behalf to save her and my kingdom. There is nothing in this world I rather have than the wellbeing of those that I call friends and family to remain.” Muoma groveled at the Eshu’s feet, pleading his cause.
“Calm yourself, Muoma. I will heal your princess so that your kingdom will be saved.”
Muoma, so joyful, reached over and gave Eshu, God of Trickery, one of the strongest hugs that even made the god gasp for air.
Muoma got up and directed Eshu to his boat. “Please, this way so that I can take you to Vuur.”
Eshu stopped him in his tracks. “I’m not going anywhere. This is a minor curse, watch my fingers, young warrior.” Eshu took his middle finger and thumb and waved them in the air.
Dazzling colors sparked traveled across them, Muoma watched in disbelief, and with a quick snap, it was over. “Alright, your princess is healed and your kingdom is saved. Go home, Great Hero That Saved Vuur.” Eshu then slammed his door shut, leaving Muoma outside in awkward silence.
###
Upon arriving at his kingdom, Muoma had no troubles getting back home. The storm clouds were gone and the royal sky, like his princess, made his travels enjoyable. He entered the town to see a crowd of grateful citizens, his brothers, and sisters. The guards escorted him to the palace to meet the king. He entered his king’s domain with great respect. The king graciously
gave him a hug of his own as Muoma walked inside.
“Young warrior, it is my greatest honor to now call you, Ibutho. You are the hero of this land and a hero of my home,” the king’s smile stretched far and wide.
“My king, all I wish is to speak to the princess to make sure she is alright. I am honored to be an ibutho, but her condition is all that worries me,” Muoma replied.
“Then please, go to her. I would not have it any other way, ibutho.”
At the king’s command, Muoma was taken to the princess’ quarters. He approached her door and gave a simple knock but no answer. He then, without much choice, gave his special knock for the guards to witness. Her door swung open so fast that it took a moment for him to
catch her in his arms. Her stellar hair waved in his face and her skin melted with his as his
happiness returned at seeing her.
“Thank you, Muoma. I am truly blessed to have you in my life. You never left my
side,” she cried in his arms as too cried.
He replied as her emerald eyes peered into his, “My princess, it is all I ever wanted to do.” The king came up the steps to see the young man and young woman locked in an embrace that would solidify his kingdom’s prosperous future one day. He smiled once again, knowing that Muoma’s sacrifice was genuine and he would always give his all to help others.
A Stone Heart
Two shadows trudged uphill, both submerged in deep darkness as their protective covering received only faint glimmers of moonlight. A knight dawning alabaster armour placed his arm in front of his companion.
The other man paused and looked at what lied ahead. A cavern that smelled of fire and brimstone awaited both to enter to continue their task. “Sir Kendrick, we need to leave this Godforsaken place!”
“I will not leave,” the Knight struck him with an antagonistic gaze, “and neither will you until our duty to our kingdom is complete, Ironhide.” He dispatched his blade; it hummed as it split still air in half. “Now, let us go and slay this demon…”
###
The white knight and his cohort crept through the serpent’s lair. Into an empty void of sightlessness and anxiety, they ventured, touching walls to help guide them down the invisible web of tunnels and passageways. Further into the cave faint sounds of either growls or moans slipped into the ears of both men.
The groggy tones left droplets of sweat on Ironhide’s worried face; he wiped them off with the sleeve of his cloak that covered most of his armour. The energy that shifted uncontrollably throughout the creature’s home squeezed his life stem tighter with every step.
The chivalrous champion pushed through the terror that continued to come at him like strong tides that crushed legions of ships at sea. Unlike his compatriot, the more intense the pressure, the harder he gripped his blade, borrowing strength from his endowed title and what came with it. The praise of those who adorned him coursed through him thicker than blood. He gritted his teeth with the renewal of passion for cutting the beast at its throat.
“We are almost there, can’t you feel the heat of its blistering flames as it breathes its last breaths?” The knight walked until he stepped on a floor so smooth and slippery that he fell on his back. He shifted his body over to pick himself up, jangles of coins falling concerned Ironhide as he reached over to give the White Knight aid.
Ironhide gripped his hand, “This place is cursed. The longer we stay, the more death will come for us. If we go back to—”
A gloved hand protected by chainmail knocked Ironhide across the endless golden treasure that neither could make out even if they tried.
A set of red and black eyes flashed open high above the feuding pair. They swept through every part, searching for the disturbance.
“I knew you would only be a deterrent. I will never see why the King thinks so highly of you,” The knight stood on both feet and picked up his sword beneath a pile of coins and jewels. His eyes rode every area of his sharpened blade, asking it the only question he thought about while on this quest. “If I kill you now it’ll save everyone the grief of having to see your spineless face ever again…”
“What are you saying? This place is making you mad, Sir Kendrick,” Ironhide backed away towards another passage.
Thoom! Thoom!
The gold beneath their feet leaped high into the air, raining down with stinging apathy on the men. The floor trembled as slithers of scales on gold and wet tongue lingered nearby.
Thoom!
Ironhide braced his back on a wall in the passage as his nation’s champion fell again after stumbling away from Ironhide and the only way to escape. The den convulsed and vibrated, creating an uproar that terrified Ironhide. Suddenly the rocky walls and clashing of gold came to an immediate stop.
“Ironhide, help me!” The white knight reached out for his companion, not seeing the moth-like flutters of scarlet flares rising to the top of the den. Sharp talons etched the stone ground beneath gold, searing the knight’s ears with a screeching hiss. He pleaded, begged his associate for him to save him. “Ironhide, come to my aid now!” In the spot by the passage where Ironhide stood, there was nothing but the diminished thoughts of survival for the renowned knight. His companion vanished, he had been abandoned, deserted to face the monstrous beast king alone. Heavy steps started making their way to him. A sinister zephyr pummeled his face as the creature roared, flames falling from the curvature of its colossal mouth. His armour weighed on him more than he thought possible, he struggled to keep himself on one knee. He gripped his blade and struck it in the ground to brace himself as he gasped for air. Each inhale he took tasted like burning coals mixing around in his throat. The atmosphere around him changed altogether; it b
ecame hotter than the desert sun.
A whirlwind of orange and crimson fire mixed in the mouth of the bane that distorted the natural peace and harmony of the world. The white knight’s blue eyes changed to an alternating violet hue as the flame prepared to char him into nothing but pitch black ash.
“Help me. My God, help me…” Seeing the drake in the vivid light caused him to regret accepting this unholy task. He awaited death as the flames blew past him, making way through his flesh, baking him into a meal for the beast king to devour whole.
Why Do Fools Fail
Outside their hotel room, Greg Larsson sat with his assistant, pupil, coworker, and occasional lover.
“Ramona, I wanted to tell you this before, but I can’t raise our child. She’s already given me a warning to stay away from you. I’m risking my entire life talking to you now,” Greg said, clasping his hands together, eyeing down at the table.
Ramona brushed aged golden locks out of her sight. “What? You can’t raise the baby you impregnated me with? F*** your wife! What about me?”
“I-I’ve sent $130,000 to your savings and another 2,000 to checking. You’ll be fine. I’ve already issued a college fund for your baby. All you need to do is either stay away and if you can’t…move.”
Office files abandoned her grasp; she spent the previous night prepping for a fruitful merger between their distribution company and a new production studio. She didn’t notice them as they fell on the floorboards.
“You- you are a sad, pitiful man, Greg Larsson. I don’t know what I saw in you for the past eighteen years. I guess it was the sex because you sure couldn’t manage your money without me. Do me a favor, go get yourself Johnnie Cochran because you are gonna have to lawyer up. I’m taking everything our baby needs, and she needs a bigger house.”
###
In the hotel parking lot, an emerald Nissan Elgrand pulled up in front of Greg’s hotel room. A woman, mid-40s, with a fresh tan, walked up with a key that connected to a purple rabbit’s tail.
“Please, Ramona. We ca-.”, a shadowy figure standing at the opened door frightened Greg. He didn’t hear the door handle turn. Standing in a terrifying stance, his wife stared at him and then glanced at his assistant. “Baby! I didn’t know you were coming. I wasn’t doing anything”.
“I know, Greg. You two are outside looking like someone just shot Old Yeller again. Other than that, the sheets and covers aren’t all over the place. I did get my Masters in Investigative Journalism. You could never keep everything from me, even if you tried,” she said, walking to the screen door and turned to Ramona. “Hi, home wrecker!” an artificial smile imprinted on her face.
“Hello, Clara. I’m really sorry about the affair, but you need to kno-.“
Clara Larsson reached over and placed her finger on Ramona’s lip.
“Hush child, I didn’t come here to talk.” She looked over to Greg. “Handle this. I’ll be waiting.” Clara walked away. A small hesitation caused her to pause for a brief moment. A chair in the corner of the room was all by its lonesome. She grabbed the chair, placed it by the door, and made herself comfy.
Greg looked at her and swayed his attention to Ramona.
“Well, talk”, Clara said, pulling out a stick of gum, affirming her stay.
“Ahem. Um. Ramo-Ramona, I need you to think of what your saying. Please. We don’t want-.“
“We?” Ramona’s eyebrows arched.
###
Ramona never noticed how much of a wimp Greg Larsson was until now. There used to be a time when she believed he could have been a White Knight in medieval times. Now everything he did seemed jest. She hadn’t notice that he wore the everose gold Rolex; she bought it for him during one of their secret trips. During the time, his wife taught at a Canadian college when he received two tickets to Rome from one of his coworkers. That watch was costly, she wanted it to be special. Ramona only wanted to present a fraction of her love and affection for him. Now, he casted it all away, all but the watch.
###
“I don’t understand something, Greg.” Ramona edged closer to him.
Greg turned to his wife and looked back at Ramona. His wife continued chewing her gum, playing a game on her phone.
“Greg, why did you cheat on your wife? I have good reason to believe that I’m not the only woman, am I?” Greg’s hands trembled. Clara continued to play her game.
“You see, that’s the watch I bought you. I purchased that watch with my own money. You are quick when it comes to toss me aside, but why not give me back the watch? Huh?”
“You want the watch?" he removed it off his wrist, “Take it. I forgot that you even gave it to me. I thought it was a gift from my wife.”
Clara paused her game. “Don’t continue to lie, Greg. You love that watch. You love anything that has a dollar sign and curves.”
“Well, I, um. Look, Ramona. We can come to some agreement if necessary. It doesn’t have to be this way,” Greg said, giving his wife a side eye.
“Greg.” Ramona stood up and walked to the screen door. “You can keep this watch and everything I got you. I’ll make sure my daughter will have everything she needs. I assure you on that.”
Clara Larsson placed her attention on Ramona, as she tossed the watch on the bed, making her way to the door.
“You did better than the others, you’ll be alright,” Clara said while she moved her chair out of the way.
Ramona stopped and looked down at her, “No I won’t. I’ll be very satisfied.”
The door opened and closed, leaving the husband and wife in utter silence.
About the Author
Besides writing fiction, Pierre works as a public relations officer and creative writer for sci-fi/fantasy publisher, EPOCH Studios. He enjoys writing screenplays and scripts for film and television. Pierre loves to travel, participate in athletic events, and spend time by himself in movie theaters. He lives in northern Florida, serving his country through the US military as he earns his BFA in Creative Writing at Full Sail University.
Stories Outside The Looking Glass: A Collection of Random Tales Page 2
