This Is Not A Story

Chapter One

The Story

“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. The people of the Valley were a quiet, peaceful folk. They went about their quiet, peaceful lives farming and building and inventing festivals, so they could farm and build a little less. They didn’t concern themselves with far-off problems like Kings or Magic or Dragons. They paid the tax collector, sent their magical children to the academies, and told stories of brave knights. One day, in a place so far-off that The Valley didn’t have a map large enough to show it, a mage and a queen decided they wanted to own the world.”

Oliver

Oliver’s attempt to rub grit from his eyes only served to cake his vision further. He had been pulling spring weeds from their crevices around his house when the world started spinning. He squeezed his eyes closed trying to shut out the piercing note in his head. Under his lids he saw the smudged ink words of his favorite childhood story. Images flashed manically though his mind. Dragons! In the Valley! But no... He blinked rapidly letting tears rinse away the dirt. He regretted the clarity. Patches of ground erupted in violent bursts of fire. His limbs refused to obey, and he trembled against the plaster of his single remaining wall. Blink. The scent of an old leather book against his face.

Brightly colored outfits decorated dead and torn bodies scattered across the village square. Glare from the sun above banged against his skull. The sky was too bright. Screaming assaulted his ears from every direction. Blink. Crinkled pages turned under his freshly scrubbed fingers. It was a festival day in the Valley. A fountain of rubble sprayed up where the inn used to stand. Oliver moved to his hands and knees. Pieces of his home bit viciously into his palms. His senses brought chaos to him like weights pressing in on all sides. A hollow-eyed girl sat motionless. Blink. Fire sprayed into Valley from wings above. But that had been a story. None of it was real.

Flames licked happily though the wheat in the west field. To his right, spruce trees splintered and crashed. The stars were falling. They streaked though the sky like acorns in a strong wind. Blink. Talons snatched away children in the night. Everything slammed into slow motion. His son was out there. He jerked to his feet on legs like fresh saplings. Ollie Jr. had been playing in the green with his friends. But in the confusion, Oliver couldn’t remember which way the green was supposed be. He lurched in no clear direction searching for a mop of auburn hair.

A star landed in the grass nearby. It was round and silver like metal. He could feel heat radiating from it. It felt wrong. He tripped over a small body in his rush to get away. Not Ollie. It was a woman. The world turned white, and the ground leapt away from him. A second later something crashed into his back. He struggled to draw air into his constricted chest. Acrid smoke finally filled his lungs making him cough. The only sound was blood rushing in his head. Blink. The Dragons killed most of the Valley people. But dragons weren’t real. Magic didn’t exist. Except they must. What else could do this?

Zenisha

Gods were not supposed to die. The people of said gods were not supposed to burn on mass either. It was a day, apparently, for what was not supposed to be. Zenisha sat at the center of the universe and contemplated death. Her own death. And the death of her charge. The twisted white branches of the Mother Tree spread around her in intricate weaves creeping into the void. She felt worthless against the great black expanse of stars. Despite the stars, darkness cloaked around her. She let a gnarled root dig into her spine. Shimmering blue-black remnants of portals danced in the spaces between branches as The Mother passed them along their way.

Zenisha forced her eyes back downward to a world in ruins. Flames ravished the planet, turning it into a dull red sun. Enhanced hearing couldn’t bring sound through the vacuum of space, but she felt their panic filling her up like a water skin ready to burst. A full half of the planet had already been destroyed by technology that should have been beyond its people. All on her watch.

This place contained magic beyond what she or any other warden possessed, yet Zenisha could think of no help the ancient spirit could give. All she could do was witness their passing as the flames consumed those under her care. The stone in her chest grew heavier with each breath. Portalling down and letting the fires have her seemed the noble choice. It might not be enough to kill her, but she deserved the pain. On the other hand, why bother? She would be executed anyway. A failure this catastrophic would need to be addressed. How many people were praying to her for salvation in that very moment? And she sat, powerless. Her stomach was bile so strong she could taste it on her breath. Her whole body tingled with it. It made no sense. Of all the planets she oversaw, this one had needed the least guidance. Or so she thought.

The Story

“The far-off mage was of the most dangerous sort. His shelves were crowded with bones and potions and books of dark spells. His most dangerous weapon, however, was politics. The mage had the ear of the queen, and he used his power to bend others to his will. He once bullied an overseer into digging new wells in slums where people were dying. Then, he used blood magic to force the laborers to work day and night until they were finished. The mage was loved and hated in no consistent order.”

Caitlyn

The 5th sphere was the largest and most populated sector of the collective. Dozens of habited planets had been mapped here in the years after Sierra’s Equation. Since then, the collective had exploded into the universe. It was now possible to predict which planets were safe to portal to. Mostly. The process was still risky, but the payoff was immense. Hopefuls could cut the wardenship waiting list by discovering new worlds for the council. For Caitlyn though, that meant the waiting list was even longer. Years had passed, and she was still waiting on her turn. She itched to explore herself, but her father barred her from it.

Caitlyn’s eyes flickered over the faces around the long marble table. The most powerful people in the universe were dead boring. She pretended to pay attention to their rambling as she pondered what inexplicable reason her father had for dragged her here. The chicken mango chutney had been delicious as promised, but that was long gone. Two dull hours of wine sipping later, Caitlyn had to pee. The problem was she wasn’t entirely sure she could walk out of the room in a respectable, upright manner. So, she sat there playing with her glass and hoping they would cut the shit before she wet herself. Astronomy and the rate of new planet discovery were interesting, but you could read it in a book. Likewise, improvements on portal calculations would be published. Blah, blah, blah. The chatter was worse than pointless. Caitlyn spied a creepy old man staring at her and sighed. Then she realized they were all staring at her. The table had gone silent, except... with a start, she stopped humming to herself. Perhaps she was even further gone than she thought. A wave of heat snuck up the back of her neck and she tried her best to become invisible. The creepy one cleared his throat.

“Shall we... get to it then?” He asked as if he were biting into a particularly bad fruit. The room grew hesitant. There was more than one bad fruit. Her father glanced at her from his chair as the tension in the room thickened. Something serious was about to be addressed. She groaned internally. She hadn’t the faintest idea. And she really had to pee.

Oliver

Ollie seemed smaller than his father remembered. Tiny arms gripped his neck as he charged away from the carnage. Cresting the hill revealed miles upon miles of fire and cratered ground. Northeast toward Pebbled Lakes was the only passible direction. White tails marked the passage of falling stars. The ground exploded where they struck. Oliver couldn’t hear anything, but he felt the land groaning under his feet. A sky choked with smoke reflected scarlet like a sunset at midday. Oliver’s thoughts slugged through the foggy haze of his mind. Some of the Valley people survived the dragons. They ran to the forests. Oliver ran to the lakes. They planned retribution. Oliver prayed to his god for help.

Oddly, he didn’t feel tired. He should have been winded and his legs on fire. Instead, he felt pure, alive energy coursing through him. It urged him to run faster. He hugged his boy tight against his sweating chest. A scattering of people ran with him, some dropping in exhaustion. Oliver was the type of man who would normally help them. Today, his only thought was of finding a safe place for his son. He barreled past a faltering teen. Miles passed and the ground began to level. The first lake glimmered in the distance like a beacon. The labyrinth of water and islands would stop the spreading fires. The damage was heavier behind them. Hopefully, that meant ahead somewhere the stars were staying in their place.

The Story

“The queen was loved by all the people. She said the right words and smiled when she blessed children. But inside, she was full of sour greed. She hoarded wealth and power like a feral dog hoards it’s scraps. Over time, she and the mage became fast friends. They decided together that the land would be better off with one ruler. Or rather, that they would be better off with the land.”

Zenisha

Zenisha’s guard was new at portals. By new, she meant no more than thirty years of practice. She waited patiently, hands bound, while the boy took twice as long as she would have needed. Streams of every color rose from his fingers and lazily interlocked together in hexagonal patterns typical of the 5th sphere. The last of the light brought the mess into a transparent blue-black orb floating at chest level. The surface rippled and shimmered expectantly. Zenisha soaked in a last glance toward her dyeing people and stepped into the portal. The world folded. A familiar sensation of sandy waves enveloped her as the orb compressed inward. Particles whipped across her skin becoming almost painful before expanding again. They reformed into a lavish dining room.

Zenisha looked up into the carved faces of the council. She would be the center piece of the evening. Everything had become clear over the last few days. She didn’t know who, or how, or what the end goal was. But someone had deliberately caused the death of her planet. She was sure of it. She had gone down to the burring world. The impossibility of what she found there made her come back. The weapons that killed her people were far beyond their development. Chances stood that the responsibility for that destruction lay with one or more of those stony faces before her. Looking at them, she knew no one would dispense real justice. They would execute her rather than acknowledge the bloody hands among them.

She remained quiet as they levered questions and accusations at her. There was no point in answering. She knew it was all for show. And if they wanted a show, she wouldn’t oblige. Instead, she would plan. Her puppet replacement had to be the girl shifting constantly in her chair. They would need someone malleable. Someone they could keep firmly in hand. The council member’s daughter would do nicely for that. Shame. The girl was cute. She wore her colored forest green hair pulled back into a tale. Sweet thing. Not a clue about the real world, but she had the authentic air of someone Zenisha would have liked.

Caitlyn

The warden looked wrecked. That surprised Caitlyn. She had been negligent to the point of allowing billions to to slaughter themselves. She hadn't even been aware of their capability to do so. Caitlyn had expected the kind of person who just didn’t care. Instead, she looked into eyes dark with grief. Her people were still suffering. The fact was plain on the woman’s face. Caitlyn found herself wanting to help her. She offered a shy smile. A sad return smile twinkled back and was gone. The woman remained utterly silent. There were no words for this moment. Caitlyn wished the council would stop railing at her. She could see the warden retreating further and further into herself. They finally reached their fill and pronounced two-hundred years of imprisonment. The woman jumped. Bafflement mixed with her exhaustion. She shook her head at the ground.

“Better to send me to the block.” Her emotionless voice shivered down Caitlyn’s spine. The warden looked up at them, empty. Pity pulled at her. Her fascination with the woman in chains was irrational, but there it was. What would it feel like to be her? Her musing was interrupted by shock as the next words rang over the table. Her mind blanked. SHE had been appointed to take over as warden of the 5th sphere. The woman's gaze fell on her like a weighted blanket. Caitlyn turned away from the table and vomited wine onto the floor.

The Story

“There is a reason secret magics are kept secret. For ages upon ages the dragons guarded the dark things of the world from human corruption. But the mage was crafty and tricksome. He took advantage of a young, foolish dragon. With promises and flattery, he bought the keys to their minds. Using their weakness and his blood magic, he took them -one by one- under his control. Wind, fire and fang were his. Yet neither he nor the queen knew any limits to their lust. They studied maps of the world and said, “Ours...”

Oliver

Cold spring water seeped into Oliver’s bones. He swam on his back with Ollie’s little head resting on his chest. His small frame floated limp behind him. The fire had swallowed up the shrinking shoreline. No return. Each shoulder-popping stoke inched the far lake side closer. Oliver was a good swimmer, but his body was not as young as it once was. His hands cramped from pulling water. They would make it. There were fewer stars streaking the sky now. He focused on hope and kept swimming. That old leather book had ended in waterlogged pages. Making up endings to the story had been one of his favorite pastimes. He felt Ollie shiver and pulled his son a bit closer. The sun was sinking toward the horizon. He had never shared the story with Ollie. He thought the dragons might scare him. He was a sensitive lad. But perhaps he was old enough. Now seemed as good a time as ever.