The leaves dance on the branches of the trees, a beautiful tapestry of the shades of red, orange, yellow and green. A gust of wind blows through the woods bringing a cascade of leaves raining down, each one spinning and turning in their own dance as they make their descent towards the ground. My pounding feet interrupt the serene scene, filling the silence with the crunching of leaves and the pounding of my heart. I breathe heavily as the cold, fresh air seeps in and out of my lungs leaving my lips dry and cracked. Goosebumps arise on my arms as another gust of the relentless wind blows through the trees, startling the squirrel on the ground. My eyes follow it as it races from tree to tree collecting acorns for the harsh winter yet to come. My pace slows to a jog, and the sound of my breath begins to quiet. The leaves change from a murky brown to the colors of the rainbow, each one standing out sharply against the pale blue sky. I close my eyes as my nostrils fill with the heavy scent of pine cones coming from the trees around me. A waft of cinnamon and pumpkin deepen the scent, coming from homes unseen. I hear the quiet whispers of the wind, calming yet ever ominous. A lonely bird cries from the distance, the swift sound of its wings flapping follow soon after. The rustling of leaves above cause me to turn my head upwards, feeling the sun as it shines through patches of the trees. A feeling of warmth engulfs me as I begin to run once more, the simple trail in the woods becoming a beautiful autumn run.

him which has captured my affection

my eyes cling to him when he passes me by

i hope and pray to him

the deity with which my beliefs rest on

he is my atlas and my world

the full metaphor of my love

he is my king and we reside together

body and body on the top of the deck

good sir how dare you steal what i require for my craft

you have truly taken my lifeblood

my mind used to search for words and contain my ideas but now it knows only thoughts of you

my heart would pull my emotions out and help to place them on the page but it now belongs to your heart, side by side in your chest my lungs no longer pull air for me

they pull air to deliver this final message to you

may it leave us both breathless

good sir please return a heart a lung a brain to me

be it my own or yours

so i may continue on

and if you would trade you body for mine

you need only say the word

may this prayer reach your ears

may it leave us both breathless

The third time this week my

head has ached, swarming

with boldface type and overgrown

lawn signs, the subconscious

of an America forced to smile.

A horror story unto itself,

a grin held up with safety

pins as if to fall off at any

moment. Headlines, a haunting

memory, a forced migraine.

And she smiles on anyway,

her youth pleading but she turns

a blind eye to each one,

complaining of headaches

every struggle italicized

and she smiles on anyway.

“Upon contact, there appears to be no immediate signs of life on the surface,” reported the astronaut.

“Strange,” crackled a voice from the astronaut's communication module in his helmet. The voice then continued to speak.

“I swear, the whole damn planet registered as heavily populated on the Bio-Scans. Take a look around, Daron. See what you can find.”

“Copy that, Iven,” responded Daron the astronaut, looking high above him at the space shuttle where Iven sat watching, just out of the atmosphere’s reach. Then, he turned his gaze behind him, toward the little pod he dropped to the surface in, that would also serve as his way off this planet and back to his friend.

As he took his first few steps across the alien terrain, he noticed immediately that the ground was very sponge-like. It received his footsteps with a faint squish as the ground sank slightly under the weight of his boot, the small divots of his past tracks slowly rose back up again, as if the ground had never been tread on in the first place.

A few more steps forward and Daron took note of something else; upon closer inspection the terrain, it was made of little pink bumps, making him uncomfortable. Still, he pressed onward.

Daron had been walking for nearly half an hour across the unpleasant yet boring surface, until he came finally across something new. A cave, an entrance into the ground, yawned before him as he peered into the dark gloom. Daron switched on his communication module once again to report his discovery.

“Hey Iven, I found something you might be interested in,” he stated.

“Well?” Iven asked, clearly alive with anticipation.

“It’s a cave. For miles, this planet looked barren, but then I came across this cave,” explained Daron.

From the other end of the line, a frantic clicking sound could be heard; Iven was documenting the encounter.

“Alright,” Iven stammered, “okay. The alien life that appeared on the scans could be dwelling underneath the surface. I need you to head inside and relay to me what you find. Do not attempt to interact with alien life forms under any circumstance, and If you feel you are in danger, by all means, bail.”

“Copy that,” Daron replied.

“God, this is exciting! This is exactly what we signed up for! If this works out, we could be famous!” Iven commented ecstatically.

Looking down into the seemingly endless darkness before him, Iven’s words were very little help in giving Daron courage.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled unenthusiastically. And with that, he pressed onward, into the pitch blackness.

Reaching down to his right side, Daron could feel the hard metal cylinder hanging from his suit; his Illumi-Torch. Unclipping it, he held it in front of him, above his head, and pressed the

switch to turn it on. The cave was now well illuminated by the bright light originating from the tip of the Illumi-Torch. The cave walls and ceiling were made of the exact same substance as the ground above, giving the whole place a slightly eerie feeling. The uneasiness that Daron had felt at the mouth of the cave had come to pass though, as his way was now brightly lit. Without any further delay, Daron pressed on. As he explored, he found the cave went down in a spiral through the ground, going deeper and deeper still. Even then, signs of life seemed to elude Daron. What he did find, however, was that the further down he went, the more the walls and ceiling started dripping with some kind of clear liquid. Some of the dubious substance dribbled onto his shoulder, and taking a bit between his fingers he examined it. Though he could not feel it through his gloved hand, the grips on his fingers slid easily when he pinched them together, sandwiching the liquid. Stretching his fingers apart, the substance separated between the grips, creating thin silvery strands of the stuff linked to the liquid on his fingers, thinning as he separated them further, until they snapped and dissipated. Spooked yet intrigued, Daron finally stopped and contemplated whether he should keep going or turn back. Surely Iven was expecting word from him soon? But as Daron squinted to see ahead into the gloom, where his light could barely reach, he found that the cave leveled out and opened into a large cavernous space. His curiosity finally got the better of him, and he stepped into the large space.

The light from his gadget spilled over the rest of the large room, revealing a pulsating mass of flesh attached both to the cavern ceiling and floor by long vein-like strings. Daron looked at it in both wonder and horror. One foot moved forward in the spirit of discovery, the other backward, in cowardice. Once again, he was caught between the battle of fear and inquisition in his head. Suddenly, the whole chasm vibrated as a low humming filled the air. Then came the voice, low and ancient.

“Do not be afraid, though it is natural to fear that which you do not know. I wish to speak with you,” spoke the voice, from all around Daron.

“Y-you can speak my language? You can understand English?” Gasped Daron in complete and utter shock.

“I do not truly speak your language, nor do I genuinely understand your tongue. All I can say is that I speak the language of the universe, and hear through that same language as well. It is to that one Language that all tongues and languages are bound to. Languages were made to describe ideas and thoughts. The language I speak and hear are those thoughts. Thus, I hear all, and speak all.”

The voice spoke with such majesty and conviction that Daron couldn’t help but immediately trust it.

“There are other powers,” continued the Voice, “that my universal language gives me. Beyond speaking and hearing all tongues, I mean. May I show you?”

Daron remained speechless, and could do nothing but nod in disbelief. The Voice, understanding this gesture, proceeded with his demonstration. In a split second, the air in the cavern changed, first dead still, muting all sound, and then wild, causing his suit to buzz. The very next moment, agony in the form of a high pitched squeal made Daron double down and writhe in agony. It was the kind of pain that, despite it only being sound, made you go temporarily blind, and your throat go dry, and your brain feel as if it were about to implode. As briefly as the ordeal had started, it stopped, leaving Daron on the squishy ground, half conscious. The air stilled again, and Daron blinked, once, twice, and when he blinked a third

time, he found himself no longer in the cavern. He was laying down in a lush field of grass, a blue sky and clouds above him. Shakily, Daron stood up and enjoyed his surroundings. Then the air was filled with the low buzzing again, characteristic of the Voice. “I apologize for the brief pain you endured, you had to be in sync with my mind in order for me to show you my abilities,” the voice explained.

“Is this… Earth? And this place, it’s so familiar…” breathed Daron.

“I can see all your thoughts and memories. I can also manipulate your brain to let you see these things as if they were real. Touch, taste, sound, pick any sense, I can make it real. You would never know the difference between fiction or reality.”

“This power,” Daron marveled, “it’s incredible! Completely unheard of! Tell me, what exactly are you?”

As if to answer, the ground rumbled and part of the field crumbled away into a hole leading straight down.

“If you just head down there, I can show you,” claimed the Voice.

Daron, fully trusting in the voice, took a step toward the hole, until the crackle of his communication module made him stop. Up until that moment, he had completely forgotten about Iven, or the mission he was on.

“Daron, come in Daron. Please respond,” demanded Iven.

As Iven spoke and made Daron remember, the lush field and sky wavered, similar to how hot air that rises from the ground on a hot summer day warps things in the distance, making the air dance. This caught Daron’s attention.

“I’m here, Iven. Could you keep talking to me for a moment?”

“Like hell I will! You gave me such a fright after being gone so long and saying nothing! What were you thinking?!” Iven rambled on.

With each word, the scene around Daron began to break down, first wavering increasingly, and then fading altogether to reveal reality. Daron looked down at where the hole in the field had been, the one he had almost stepped into, and his heart jumped into his throat. Where the hole was, there was now a huge gaping maw, with jagged teeth running all around the sides, waiting for him to jump in so they could gnash together and make a meal of him. The bottom of the hole could not be seen, but he knew it went nowhere good. Looking back up at the blob of pulsating flesh, he could see that it was pulsing faster and faster, beginning to secrete the same liquid that dripped from the ceiling and walls. The truth hit Daron like a ton of bricks. “Iven, it’s the planet. The planet is alive.”

Iven, who had been ranting on through the communication module, faltered and grew silent.

“W-what? What do you mean? Did something happen?” He questioned, the concern heavy in his voice.

“There is no alien population. This ‘planet’ is the alien. And it’s hungry.” Daron explained, quaking in complete fear.

“O-oh. Wow. That would explain the scan. Please exercise extreme caution, do whatever you can to de-escalate any aggression from the entity, and for god sakes, please hurry,” instructed Iven, trying to remain calm.

Daron looked back down at the gaping mouth in the ground before him, then back up at the blob, before turning around and quickly and heading back toward the entrance of the cave where he would begin his ascent to the surface.

The Voice spoke once more, stopping him in his tracks.

“Why are you going, and so soon? I apologize for the crude trick I played on you; it was just a bit of fun, really. But I must say I was impressed by how you escaped my illusion. Was that another person you were talking to, just now? Invite him down here and I’ll teach you both all about my race and strange powers.”

The Voice, its speech full of authority, made part of Daron become mutinous, ditching the idea of self preservation for curiosity. Still, Daron cleared his throat and spoke to the Voice. “I really wish I could stay, or better yet invite my partner here with me, but I really have to get going.”

The Voice did not directly respond, but the air changed once more, vibrating in a seemingly sour mood. Daron continued to make his way out of the large chamber-like opening and stopped at the threshold between the large room and the steep spiral leading upward. The

liquid from before was now dropping like heavy rainfall from the ceiling and walls of the cave, pooling onto the floor and making a rapids that began to flow down the spiral and into the blob’s chamber itself, where it then drained into the hole from before. Taking a deep breath, Daron started up the spiral, but much to his expectations, it quickly got very difficult to progress, sometimes losing two or three steps to the slippery, wet surface when he had taken but one. By the time he had nearly reached the surface, he was drenched in sweat and shaking with exhaustion. Making the final few steps out of the cave and onto the flat, somewhat dry ground, he collapsed in a heap. When he had caught his breath, he rose once again to his feet, which felt more like lead, and reported to Iven.

“I’m out of the cave; heading to the pod now.”

“Fantastic! Again, be careful, and good luck.” Responded Iven.

So, Daron proceeded to stumble across the terrain. He was about twenty steps from the pod when the air around him began to buzz familiarly, and he felt again the presence of the Voice, though he was sure he left it down in the chamber. The Voice spoke, the air and ground vibrating with his voice.

“Are you sure your friend can’t come? Where is he that I cannot sense his presence on my surface?”

“My friend,” Daron replied, “is up there on that shuttle, above your atmosphere. We came here on that shuttle, and I will be returning to it so we can go back to where we came from and bring even more people back.”

“This idea, if you mean it, sounds delightful,” stated the voice.

Daron took a little breath of relief that the Voice had fallen for his lie. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short by the Voice.

“But I am not the fool you take me for. I know you do not mean what you say. So I demand that your friend come down and that both of you make your way to my chamber, where everything will be explained.”

“My friend cannot land the shuttle on your surface, it is not supposed to,” laughed Daron. “Then I will make it,” the Voice cooed, suddenly sounding sinister. Then, the ground began to tremble, soft at first, then growing increasingly strong, until a massive hole opened up

in the surface, and shot a ball of flame into the air, rising fast. Daron was left in a stupor until he saw what mark the fireball was meant for.

“Iven, come in Iven! You need to move now, the planet sent a large projectile your way!” “The planet sent what my way?”

“A large mass of fire, straight toward the shuttle. You need to move, NOW!” Daron then heard the sound of Iven dashing out of his seat, no doubt to move the shuttle. By then, it was already too late, and Daron watched as the fireball smashed into one of the shuttle’s wings, obliterating it and sending the spacecraft spiraling toward the planet. With a guttural cry, he sank to his knees and watched the shuttle smash into the surface about half a mile away, rolling and bouncing before coming to a stop in a smoking heap of metal. Staring at the wreck for a good long while, with tears brimming his eyes, he flashed back to all the good times he and Iven had together, even before they were astronauts. They were as close as brothers. Pounding the ground, Daron got back to his feet and started toward the pod, thinking that although he had no shuttle, he could launch into space and broadcast a signal for help, in which case someone would find and recover him, preferably before he starved to death. That was, until a familiar voice crackled back over the communication module in his helmet. “Hello, Daron? Can you hear me? I’m trapped inside the wreck, and I need help.” Daron laughed in disbelief, “Iven, you’re alive? How?”

“I think I’m alive, because I’m hurting like hell. As to how I’m alive, I don’t know. Just hurry up and help me, will you? Several components in this wreckage are susceptible to explode in near fatal collisions.”

Daron immediately set out running for the wreckage, caring nothing for the pod anymore. He didn’t even notice as it slowly and silently sank into the ground and was consumed forever. Still running, Daron made it about three-quarters of the way before the ground once again trembled, soft at first, the growing increasingly strong. A hole then began forming where the wreckage sat on the surface.

“Daron?” Was the only word Iven was able to speak before he plummeted into the ground with the wreckage and the hole sealed up, looking as if nothing were ever there in the first place. Falling again to his knees, Daron wept for his friend who had almost certainly met a grave fate at the hands of the vile thing that was this planet. Only the static that came from the communications module in his helmet accompanied him, until he shut it off. Then he heard it. Far away, he could have sworn he heard a scream. One that sounded an awful lot like Iven. Refusing go give up hope, Daron willed his legs to move even faster, though they were lead, toward the sound. Closer and closer he got, until he stood at the gaping pitch black cave entrance once more, the rapids still running full force, from what he could hear. Grabbing his Illumi-Torch, he did not hesitate to jump into the running stream of liquid and let it carry him all the way down like he was a child on a playground slide. Splashing to a stop at the bottom of the spiral, he plodded into the large chamber of the blob again, though this time it was slightly flooded with the liquid, about up to Daron’s ankles.

“Iven!” Called Daron, hoping for a response from his friend. But the answer he got was not from the one he searched for.

“Iven is gone,” declared the Voice, “I devoured him along with the wreckage of the ship he was dead in.”

“Iven died when the shuttle went down? But his voice, it was so real, so lifelike,” mumbled Daron.

“He was dead at the time of the impact, but I stretched your concept of reality to make it not so, in hopes that I could lure you back here.”

Daron turned back toward where the entrance to the chamber would have been, hoping to leave, but found that it was sealed, looking unblemished like the rest of the walls. Turning to face the blob with silent tears running down his face, he spoke.

“Fine, you win. Go ahead and devour me like you did Iven, so that I can join my friend.” The Voice chuckled, “Of course, but not so fast. You and your friend are the only food I've had in millennia. I have other plans for you, before I make you my meal.” Daron slightly tilted his head, perplexed, until the air around him grew wild again and the high pitched sound that followed brought him writhing to the ground with just as much agony as before. As the pain faded, Daron blinked a few times, expecting his surroundings to be different, but finding he was exactly where he was before, keeled over in the flooded chamber of the pulsating blob. He was just about to laugh at the Voice for failing its trick, until he heard the plodding of someone else’s footsteps through the liquid. Scrambling back to his feet and wheeling around, Daron stood face to face with Iven, who was approaching, large gashes all over his body oozing blood, arms spread out as to receive an embrace.

“No… you’re not real. You are NOT Iven!” Daron screamed, slowly backing away from the advancing doppelgänger.

Approaching closer, a thin smile spread across Iven’s deathly pale face. “Of course I am. I’m as real as the heavy guilt in your heart. You did this to me. I told you not to engage, but you didn’t listen. You never did. Not now, and certainly not back home on Earth. Even then, I was saving your sorry butt from trouble. Well, this time, I’m not here to help you. And do you know why? I’m dead, Daron. I’m dead because of you.”

Daron, tear upon tear silently rolling down his cheeks, stopped backing away and stood his ground. “Yes,” he said shakily, “Iven’s death is on my hands. But you are not him. You may look and sound like him, but that is not how Iven thinks. You are just an illusion planted in my head. I’m not afraid of you.”

Iven laughed. “An illusion? Interesting, very interesting. But can an illusion do this?” And with that, Iven leapt and tackled Daron, closing his hands around his neck. Surprised that the illusion could actually touch and choke him, his eyes grew wide as he struggled to loosen Iven’s grip. Iven then began to shake Daron by the neck. “You killed me,” he snarled, over and over again. As he did so, his face began to decay at alarming speed, rotting to a black husk that shrank around the skull. Yelling one final time, the rotting Iven collapsed in a pile of dust that coated Daron. With the pressure suddenly removed from his throat, Daron gasped for air. Making to wipe off the dust of his friend’s corpse, he found that the particles clung to his gloves. Squinting to better examine it, he yelped when he saw the dust was actually a thousand small insects, and frantically tried to shake them off. Reacting in a surge, the insects quickly multiplied and swarmed him, crawling up and into his suit through openings they chewed. With his suit filling with the bugs, Daron let loose a bloodcurdling scream and rolled around on the squishy ground as the insects crawled up his skin. They targeted his head, rushing in through his ears, nostrils, and mouth. His eyes rolling up into his head, Daron passed out as his body went into shock.

Starting awake, Daron sat up and found himself in the middle of the lush green yard of a house that looked familiar. He looked around, and found himself in a neighborhood just as familiar.

“Oh my God, are you alright sir?” Questioned the voice of a child from the nearby sidewalk.

Standing up, Daron looked at the kid, confused. He looked about twelve, and he was holding a baseball bat loosely in his right hand.

“W-what?” Daron stammered, completely stupefied.

“I hit you with my baseball,” the kid explained, ashamed.

Looking down by his side, Daron found a baseball laying in the grass, and upon seeing it, the back of his head gave a twang of pain. Reaching down, he picked up the ball and threw it to the boy, who caught it. Daron noticed that his movements were incredibly light, and looking down at himself, he found he no longer wore an astronaut suit, just everyday shorts and a t-shirt. He then looked back at the boy.

“Yeah, I’m alright. I just don’t know where I am. Could you tell me where this is?” Looking seriously concerned, the boy recited the neighborhood and street name. He then apologized once more, and dashed away, down the sidewalk and out of sight. The name of the neighborhood rang a bell in his mind and immediately he realised where he was. This was his neighborhood. And the yard he stood in, this was his yard. Which meant…

Running to the front door of the house, he opened the unlocked door and barged inside. “Lizz! I’m here, I’m home! It’s Daron!”

He waited, looking and listening for any response from his wife. Walking into the white tile kitchen, he tried again.

“Lizzy? Sweetie?”

Again, there was no response. Then, the front door slammed closed and all the blinds on the windows slid to block the sunlight, casting the whole interior in darkness. On high alert, Daron’s heart began to beat really fast as he turned in slow circles, desperately trying to spot anything out of the ordinary in the gloom.

“Murderer!” Screamed a feminine voice from the front door, a voice he recognized to be his wife, Lizzy.

Squinting, he could see her figure across the hallway, and she was holding something in her hand that glinted with what little light the blinds on the windows allowed. The blade of a knife.

“Lizz?” Daron cautiously called to her.

“Murderer!” She screeched. She then raised the blade to face Daron, and took a step toward him, causing him to take a step back in response. She took another step forward, Daron taking another back.

“Lizzy, please calm down. I love you. You love me, right?” Asked Daron, trying to de-escalate the situation.

With no verbal response, Lizzy took off at a full sprint at Daron, stabbing at him, but finding only air as Daron jumped to the side and got back to his feet just in time to receive another rush from his wife. She swung the knife in an arc, nearly missing Daron’s throat by inches. Pushing her away as she tried to recover, Daron then yanked open a nearby cabinet

from the kitchen and withdrew a frying pan. He turned back towards his wife and was met with a knife to the shoulder. With a cry, Daron felt the blood begin to soak his shirt as Lizzy pulled the knife out and attempted another attack, only this time, being met with the back of a frying pan, causing a metal clang to ring through the house. Pushing her down to the floor, Daron ran into the living room to get distance between himself and his maddened wife. He was surprised when she hadn’t given chase, just laying there on the floor, sobbing.

“Oh, Daron, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” Lizzy cried.

Setting the frying pan down, Daron approached his wife slowly and steadily. “Everything is alright. What happened?” He consoled her.

“I don’t know, I felt sick this morning and passed out, I guess. The rest is a blur, up until just now. Oh lord, did I hurt you?! You’re bleeding! Quick, we need to call an ambulance!” She rambled, reaching for the phone in her pocket.

Daron stopped her with a hug, and the two sat in an embrace for a little while. Lizzy put a hand to Daron’s heart, and kissed him. Daron was in so much bliss that he had forgotten he was bleeding, and didn’t even notice Lizzy’s arm slowly retrieve something from the floor, until she drove her arm back and jammed the knife up to the handle into his heart. Eyes wide, Daron could do nothing but gape at his wife, a crazed gleam in her eyes and a sickly smile on her pink lips.

“This is how a murderer dies. You’re pathetic. To think I would love a man who killed their best friend?” She giggled.

Daron tried to respond, but only mouthed words, unable to find his voice. Sitting there in silence, his wife cackling at his death, the iron curtain of death fell upon him slowly, and he closed his eyes.

Jolting awake, Daron screamed at the top of his lungs, scaring the doctor that worked beside him and someone else who sat at the corner of the room, just out of eyesight. Looking dumbstruck, the doctor stared at Daron for a few seconds, his mouth slightly ajar, before running out of the room, yelling for more staff. The figure in the corner of the room stepped into Daron’s eyesight, revealing themself to be an extremely shocked and alive looking Iven. “Daron! Y-you’re awake!” He breathed in awe.

“Don’t come close to me! You’re not real! I didn’t mean to kill you!” screamed Daron in pure terror, kicking out and clutching at his bedsheets which he lay beneath. Looking startled, Iven took a step back. “What happened to you,” he muttered under his breath, “I knew the accident was bad, but this? You’re completely insane.” This made Daron calm down suddenly, and very confused, he questioned Iven. “I was in an accident? What happened?”

“You don’t even remember?” Iven responded.

“No. I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

Taking a shaky breath, Iven explained that together the two of them had gone driving into town to visit the local bar. They both had one too many drinks, and when they decided to drive home, they missed a red light and drove into oncoming traffic head-on. Many people had been injured. Iven had gotten lucky, only sporting minor bruising. Daron, however, suffered major head trauma, and had to be hospitalized while he was in a coma. When he had finished, the doctor barged back into the room, this time accompanied by a full medical team, who performed different examinations on Daron. One of the doctors told him that he experienced a

lot of brain activity during his coma, and asked if he had experienced any odd dreams, if he could recall any. Explaining his dream in vivid detail, Daron recounted everything from the living planet, to Iven’s death, and the hallucinations. The doctor, who had been writing all of it down, just nodded when he had finished, and left with the rest of the team, leaving him alone with his best friend.

“I’m glad to have you back,” Iven admitted, his eyes tearing up.

“It’s good to be back,” Daron resounded, feeling his own eyes burn with tears as well. “Well, I have to head out for the night. I’ll tell Lizzy you’re awake, I’m sure she’ll drive all the way back up here. She had left not too long before you snapped out of your coma.” Iven then said his goodbyes and began to walk out of the room. Stopping halfway to the door, he winced in pain and held his stomach. He then doubled over and retched once, twice, and then finally spewed black gunk from his mouth onto the floor, which turned out to be insects that scattered to the far corners of the room. Breathing heavily and saying nothing, Iven slowly turned to Daron, revealing his decomposing skin. He smiled and began to hobble over to Daron, causing him to freak out and shout for a doctor, but none arrived. Reaching the bedside, Iven jumped on top of Daron, and violently shook him. He spoke, but this time his voice was that of the Voice’s.

“You thought it was over? I have so much more planned for you”

And with a psychotic scream from Daron, the scene changed again.

When the planet had finished it’s fun, it left poor Daron there in a heap on the floor, shaking spastically, eyes glazed over, his mouth leaking spittle down his chin. Slowly, a tentacle reached out of the toothy maw in the floor and snaked its way across the room, wrapping itself firmly around the disabled man. It then proceeded to drag him toward the hole silently, and without struggle, his mind already broken. As Daron fell into the hole, it closed behind him, leaving no evidence that he had ever been there at all.

The planet, finishing its meal, found that both Daron and Iven had tasted incredible. Realizing that the consumption of human flesh gave it more euphoria than the thousands of years spent slowly luring and devouring countless other species ever could, it craved more. It needed to taste that flesh again, and soon. Waiting a hundred years at a time for sustenance suddenly lost all luster, and the planet’s ability to hold off hunger crumbled, giving way to a terrible, bottomless hunger. The new immense pain served as a key that unlocked the door to evolution, and the planet found within itself abilities it hadn’t known before. Calling upon the memory of the now consumed Daron, the planet saw and experienced through Daron’s eyes all about the human race, gleaning their habits, philosophies, beliefs, and most importantly, their whereabouts; a planet they called Earth. It would be a long journey, but to feel the satisfaction it had felt just moments ago, it would do anything. Besides, the planet also discovered within Daron’s head the location of a nearby space station; a snack for the road.

Gathering its energy, the planet performed yet another trick it had not known before, speaking into the void of space a single thought, what humans would call the word move. Responding to its will, the fabric of the universe warped around it, propelling it from the spot it had once sat waiting since birth. Accelerating faster and faster still, it reached the space station in seconds and refused to stop, the station smashing against the planet’s surface like a fly to a windshield. Stopping then to focus on picking the human remains out of the burning wreckage,

the planet’s surface mutated like it hadn’t before, yet another result of the newfound hunger deep within. Thousands of tendrils grew out of its surface, opening jagged jaws that snapped at the wreckage with ferocity akin to a pack of rabid wolves, shredding and slashing the metal to ribbons with ease and grabbing the bits of human flesh underneath. Feeling the euphoria once more, the tendrils sank back into the planet’s surface, but the newfound control that surged through its flesh remained, its surface dancing with life, up and down in waves as if it were a pink sea. When the feeling of satisfaction faded, the planet once again willed the universe to move it in all its newfound brutality toward Earth. Today was only a sample. Tomorrow would be the feast.

My plane lands and I’m here… again

The airport is busy and crowded but I don’t have time for this

I only have three days

Three days to see and do everything for the hundredth time

Three days to get a tan so dark, I barely recognize myself

Three days… in paradise

Smiling I grab my bag

It’s light and looking back on it now hurriedly packed

Rushing to the rentals, I get a car

And start driving

To my hotel

I open the door to my room

and practically throw my bag in

Rushing back to the rental car

I sit for minute and relax

I turn on the radio and roll down the windows

Driving off my hair comes out of its bun

But I don’t care

The air rushes in through the open windows

It smells like salt and blows my hair around in every which way

I’m laughing now and singing along with the music

The seriousness and stress of my life back home wearing off and fading into the distance

I’m here

Opening the door, I am greeted with another light breeze and seagulls cawing above my head

They fly over me and over the white sand and beyond into the great blue

Smiling I run over towards the surf

My sandals shift in the sand and I take them off

My feet burn as I run across the sun-warmed sand

The water rushes towards me and my feet are covered in the surf

Going further into the water my clothes get sprayed with the salty ocean water

And after playing in the ocean for a while I head back towards the warm sand As I watch the sunset, I can hear children laugh as they play and the tide rolling into the shore

It’s going to be the nicest three days ever

Because this is paradise

When the hustle and bustle of life halts,

and the world seems to stop spinning,

a thick mist of fear and isolation descends in darkness.

But when it seems there is only falling,

plunging into an endless abyss,

the shadow of death slowly begins to recede.

A silence still lingers in the air,

to remember the terrors of the past night,

only broken by the sound of a clear dew drop,

gently bending over a flower petal,

and dripping onto the lush and green grass.

Through a crack in my window,

a single ray of sunlight sneaks through.

And joining it,

a soft breeze glides in,

both dancing together to tickle my face.

As my eyes slowly blink open,

and I take a breath in,

the scent of lilac pours into my nose,

awakening me to its fragrant presence.

I can almost taste a sweet, floral honey,

melting in my mouth.

Then in all of a sudden,

as if an “un-pause” button was hit,

everything seems to be awake,

just as my eyes open wide.

First with the cries of a mourning dove,

lamenting over its lost lover,

then the wind announces its arrival,

rustling the fresh, green leaves.

A hushed crinkling is heard,

as a twig drops to the ground.

Now all of life is in full motion,

A car engine vrooms,

speeding down the street.

Dogs on their morning walk bark,

defending where they stand.

A distant chime of church bells,

a song carried by the wind,

to every open door and window,

broadcasting a timely message.

But nothing can compare,

to the glorious, warm sunlight,

casting its golden rays,

to reach around every corner,

until everything is shining and bright.

A new day has just begun.

Absolute silence,

Completely still.

Untouched, pristine.

The air, green

And pale gold

Safe and cool

Don’t disturb this.

It’s Not meant be seen:

Not with imperfect eyes.

Just watch

As leaves

Gently fall

Listen to wind

Or whispering water;

The hidden things

Don't even breathe or

Move, we are imperfect:

This place is not for us.

Sitting down in the grass, the little girl watches the little green strands dance in the wind. Her pale hand reaches for one vibrant strand and plucks it from the ground. She slowly tears it into strips and drops it, bored with the little plant already. She then turns her gaze to the rippling waves in front of her instead.

The waves dance in the wind and reflect the sun’s bright rays. As far as the eye can see, there are blue waves. The little girl inhales deeply and allows the salty smell of the ocean to wash over her. Her eyes are trained to the place where the baby blue sky meets the dark ocean waves. She finds herself mesmerized by the blue, and slowly crawls towards the edge of the cliff. The prickly grass whispers against her delicate skin as she sits at the edge of the outcropping. The quiet whooshing of the waves against the rocky shore and the sighing of the wind are the only sounds that reach the girl.

The scene in front of her is utterly transfixing; she is amazed by the beauty of this vast ocean of water. She finds herself inching forward, wanting to go see where the water meets the sky. Soon, she is barely sitting on the cliff’s edge. She tilts her head down and looks at the brown rocks and the azure waves. She could almost imagine the taste of the salty waves against her tongue.

The quiet beauty of it all amazes the girl. She sits on that cliff for a very, very long time, just watching the waves and quietly shredding pieces of grass between her little fingers.

The sun finally set over the small town of Vitolla, and the cool night air blew Ares’ hair across his face. He sat under a tree at Westhollow Point, a grassy hillside that overlooked his town. He had been there for a few hours now, letting his mind wander between thoughts as he watched the people below. This place was his escape; his home away from home. He would read for hours at a time of faraway places and stories far more interesting than the life of his own. Ares dreamt to travel to distant lands, but that was practically unheard of. Virtually no one in Vitolla had even set foot outside their small, isolated community. Those who had been brave enough? Well, they never returned.

Vitolla was one of many regions in the vast land of Baymyre. Others included various towns and cities, though many were isolated and had very little, if any, communication with the other regions. The people of Vitolla liked it that way. Everyone except for Ares, that is. Little talk of outsiders meant more talk about everyone here. Town gossip was still extremely prevalent in Vitolla, and everyone knew everything about everyone. Rumors were especially damaging, especially to Ares. Truthful or not, they spread like wildfire. This was one of the many reasons he longed to leave Vitolla. He could never seem to escape his past. Everywhere he went, ruin seemed to follow. Ares had been deemed the town troublemaker early on in his life, though he was never ill-intentioned. The now seventeen year old really did try his best, but misfortune seemed to follow him like a shadow.

Once, when he was eight, he accidentally set fire to his friend’s house while they were playing. They had gotten carried away and Ares’ cloth had drifted a little too close to the candle on the table. The other kids in the town never really talked to him after that. Accidents kept happening and Ares always seemed to be involved one way or another. The town convinced themselves that he was jinxed, and with that he was made an outcast in his own home. Ares kept his head down in the following years, trying his best not to draw attention to himself. He felt trapped in everyone’s expectations of him, or their lack thereof. He was even a disappointment to his own father. He could see the ashamed look in his eyes when they walked around town together, and the way he spoke to him further proved that point. Ares’ mother had died during childbirth and a part of Ares’ father blamed him for the loss of his wife. Their relationship was...strained to say the least. But they tried to stay out of each other’s way, for the sake of coexistence.

For the most part, Ares didn’t mind being alone. He was able to find companionship from the characters in the stories he read. And when he inevitably read everything Vitolla had to offer, he turned to writing his own stories. He created better friends in his characters than he could ever find in Vitolla. Not that he wanted to be friends with the people here, anyways.

When the night eventually darkened the sky and chilled his skin to the point of discomfort, Ares packed up his things and headed home. His father is awake and sitting by the fire when he arrives, though neither man acknowledged the other’s presence. Ares heads straight for his room, not wanting to disturb his father. Deciding to journal before bed, he jots down some of his observations from the day. He liked to watch people go about their lives from the hillside, and draw inspiration from them for his own stories. People didn’t like having him around town because they were afraid they would destroy something, so he figured it was best for everyone that he watched from afar. He almost liked it better this way. It was peaceful on the hill. Nobody else from Vitolla disturbed him there. With that thought, Ares closed his journal and went to sleep.

Ares roused at first light, as he normally did. He made a small breakfast for his father and himself, knowing he too would soon be awake. He then packed a bag with some food, a couple of books, and his journal before heading out for Westhollow.

Today was a busy day in Vitolla. While the sun had just barely risen, the townspeople were already out and about, bustling around to get a jump start on their errands. Ares had his share of responsibilities around Vitolla, though the town had collectively decided to give him fewer and simpler chores in the hopes that he wouldn’t mess up the more important ones. He typically finished his tasks around midday, while the town gathered for mealtime so he didn’t have to interact with anyone. The town appreciated it too, since nobody wanted to risk interacting with him either. But that at least gave him a few hours to himself at Westhollow, so he wasn’t complaining.

Ares read throughout the morning, starting one of his favorite stories for the hundredth time over again. While he read, he pictured himself as the main character, and pretended that he was the hero saving the damsel in distress, slaying the dragon and earning praise from everyone in the kingdom. It helped keep away the thoughts swirling around his head, telling him that he was a disappointment or would never amount to anything. Ares sighed, shaking his head. Oh, how he wished he could leave Vitolla behind. If only he had the means to leave and start over someplace new. Someplace where nobody knew of his past, or thought of him as a screw up. He could be whoever he wanted to be, anywhere but here. Nothing exciting ever happened in Vitolla.

Around dinnertime, after Ares had finished his daily chores, he walked back into town to wander around. There weren’t as many people around out now so he felt free to enjoy himself. He walked along the paths between the uniform houses and shops, watching the people eating and laughing merrily through the windows. As Ares approached the outer parts of the town, he heard a noise coming from the distance. It almost sounded like the deep rumbling of thunder, yet the skies were clear. As Ares looked to the hills that surrounded Vitolla, he spotted a distant figure heading towards the town. As the figure neared closer, Ares could make out the shape of a man, riding atop a creature that he had never seen before. They didn’t have many animals in Vitolla, so the sight of this beast bewildered Ares. This creature was magnificent! It was large and strong and elegant, though it was moving rapidly towards his small town. Ares felt unease creeping over him like spiderwebs, and quickly ran back to his house not far away.

“Father!” Ares called out as he ran into the house. His father looked up at him from the table with tired eyes.

“What is it, Ares. I have to pick up some things from town soon, I don’t have long.”

“There is a man riding towards Vitolla on some strange, large beast and they are approaching quickly. I do not know of them or what they want.”

Something like fear and uncertainty flashed in his eyes as he listened to his son. Without another word, they left the house and headed towards the town plaza where many of the town had already gathered. Ares wasn’t the only one who had noticed the man closing in on Vitolla rapidly. People murmured amongst themselves, nervously guessing at what this man could possibly want. Vitolla rarely saw foreigners, and the last time anyone came or went was decades ago. No one was quite sure how to handle the situation but the imminent arrival of this stranger put the townspeople on edge. While Ares was nervous at what was to come, he couldn’t help but find excitement in the unknown. It was about time Vitolla had something interesting happen to it. He was just glad that it was actually happening in his own lifetime.

The stranger was drawing closer and closer, the thundering becoming louder in Ares’ ears. Everyone in the plaza huddled together instinctively, to protect themselves from possible danger.

Everyone held their breaths as the stranger slowed down, finally reaching the plaza. The people of Vitolla stared at him in silence as he dismounted the great beast. He was taller and stronger than anyone in Vitolla, and held a certain ferocity in his eyes.

“I come bearing no threat to you,” the man bellowed, his voice reaching everyone in the crowd. “I have come to ask for the help of your people. I am Malachai, messenger and warrior of the Kingdom of New Haven. The ruler of our land, King Aldrich, has been kidnapped by the Outlaws of Baymyre. Our land is under siege from these thieves and bandits and I have come to you to ask some of you to return with me and help to save my kingdom.”

Everyone whispered amongst themselves, processing what Malachai had told them. After a long while of silence, Ares’ father spoke up on behalf of what he had been hearing. He knew the people of Vitolla, and public opinion on foreign affairs was no secret.

“We do not wish to help you, stranger. We do not meddle in the trials of others for it is not our business, and we kindly ask that you stay out of ours. We will give you a warm meal and shelter for the night, as well as supplies for your journey back, but we cannot help you any more than that.”

Malachai lowered his head in defeat, wishing for a different answer. “I respect your decision, people of Vitolla. I am grateful for your hospitality.”

Ares’ father nodded and said, “You can stay with my son and I tonight. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you settled in. Ares’ eyes lit up with wonder. The messenger was going to be staying with them? He couldn’t have gotten any luckier. He longed for knowledge of the world outside of Vitolla and this man might just be able to give him what he wanted.

Ares and his father led Malachai back to their small house and made up a small cot for him near the fire. Ares made him a good sized meal, since the man looked hungry. Malachai thanked him, but kept quiet otherwise.

Ares sat across the table from him, just watching him eat. He was fascinated by the strange man in front of him. Malachai noticed, and after a while asked, “Can I help you?”

“I- uh, no, I just-” Ares stammered.

“Spit it out, kid. I can tell you have something to say to me, so just say it.” Ares cleared his throat and gathered his thoughts before finally speaking.

“What is it like, where you’re from? I’ve never been outside of Vitolla and... I wish to know more about the lands beyond here.”

Malachai smiled. “I figured as much. Your curiosity was practically coming off of you in waves.”

Ares dropped his head and rubbed his neck in embarrassment.

“It’s alright kid, I don’t mind answering a few questions. What would you like to know?” For the rest of the night, Malachai told Ares stories about the Kingdom of New Haven, and of the lands abroad he had travelled to as a messenger to King Aldrich. According to Malachai, King Aldrich was a magnificent king. He had brought prosperity to and unity to his people, and all of his subjects adored him. The people of New Haven lived well, and the king was an important person to them. Without him ruling over the kingdom, it had fallen into chaos. There were no rules, no order under the reign of the Outlaws. Malachai feared what would happen if King Aldrich wasn’t rescued soon. Without him, there was no chance of defeating the Outlaws and returning the Kingdom to its original state of peace and well-being. Ares was in awe at everything Malachai told him. Everything sounded so surreal, like something out of one of his books. What he would give to be able to experience an adventure like that.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Ares. Your town was my last hope, no other city was willing to help. New Haven is doomed.” Malachai said as he lowered his head.

“Malachai?” Ares asked. The man lifted his head. “What if...I came along with you? I know I’m not a warrior like you, and I haven’t even travelled outside of Vitolla, but I want to join you on your journey. I want to help you save your king.”

Malachai thought hard for a moment, contemplating the offer. Ares was only a boy, but he was on his way to becoming a man. But he didn’t want to take him away from his home, not while he was still young.

“Please, Malachai. There’s nothing left for me here. Nobody here likes me, not even my own father. Nobody has faith in me and I want to prove to them that I can be something! I know I’m not much, but please. I want to go with you. I want to experience the world beyond Vitolla. I don’t want to survive, I want to live.”

Malachai looked at the yearning in Ares’ eyes and felt guilt. It was hard to say no to him. Plus, he wouldn’t mind having a little company on his journey home.

“Okay, you can accompany me on my quest to save King Aldrich. But you must know that this task is not an easy one, Ares. What we are trying to do is extremely dangerous. Are you prepared for the possibility that you may not return?”

Ares looks down for a moment.

“There is nothing left for me here, Malachai. I don’t think I want to return regardless of the outcome of our journey.”

Malachai nods, standing. “You best tell your father and prepare yourself. We have a long journey ahead of us. Sleep well, Ares.”

Ares nodded respectfully and wished him a good night. Hesitantly, he stood and made his way to his father’s room. He lightly knocked as he stood in the doorway, waiting for permission to enter. His father looked up at him and waved him inside. Ares stepped into the room and stood before his father, unsure of how to tell him that he was leaving and most likely never coming back.

“What is it, Ares? I can tell that you have something to tell me.” he said, not looking up from the sword he was sharpening at the table in the corner of the room.

Ares gulped, struggling to find his words.

“I- um, I just wanted to say…”, Ares paused and sucked in a breath, “I’m leaving father… with Malachai.”

At this, he looked up at Ares. Though he didn’t say anything. He just looked, studying his son.

“I’ve decided that I am going to help him find Kind Aldrich. And… I don’t think I’m coming back.”

Ares’ father just looked at him for a long while, studying him. It was almost as if he was trying to memorize the pieces of him, since this was probably the last time he would ever see him. He set down the sword and stood, embracing his son in a hug.

“Good luck, Ares. I know you never liked it here. I hope that you find what you are looking for.”

Tears welled up in Ares’ eyes as he hugged his father. He had wanted to leave Vitolla for so long, he never believed it would actually happen. And now that it was, he wasn’t sure how to feel. He didn’t foresee it being this difficult.

The men released one another and said their goodbyes, and Ares returned to his room to pack. While he was excited for the journey ahead, leaving was still so bittersweet. Vitolla was all he had ever known. But Ares knew he would be alright, because the world had so much more to offer than the small town from which he came.

Malachai and Ares left at daybreak, just before the town started to wake. They had packed food and water, enough to last them a few days, and some of Ares’ things as well. He didn’t have much he wanted to bring with him. He was starting over, after all.

Riding on Malachai’s beast for the first time was exhilarating. He had never imagined that he could move that fast. After a while, though, he became accustomed to the steady galloping of the creature. Malachai told him its name was Alogo.

It was strange to watch Vitolla fade into the distance. Ares had never seen Vitolla in this way before. He never realized just how small it was, or how big the rest of the world could be.

Along the way, Malachai pointed out different things to him. Various animals and plants, landmarks and different towns. They traveled quickly on Alogo, much faster than on foot. They made a several day journey in only a few hours. They eventually stopped to give Alogo a rest and to eat. They had been travelling nonstop for a while, but they made good distance. They didn’t rest for long, however. They needed to make it to the next town before nightfall. Dangerous creatures come out at night and it was safer to seek shelter in the next village. Malachai had been there before, so they knew him well and were friendly with him. The next few days carried on like this: travelling, resting, more travelling, and stopping in the closest town for the night.

During their travels, Malachai would teach Ares the customs of New Haven. Things were different in every place he traveled too, and each group of people had their own way of going about their lives. Ares was fascinated by all Malachai taught him. He also, in turn, opened up to Malachai about his past. He told him about how the townspeople viewed him, and about his streak of bad luck.

“I don’t think that you are jinxed, Ares. Sure, some bad things have happened to you in the past but you’re focusing on the wrong things. Instead of emphasizing the mistake, try to concentrate on what you can learn from it. That way you’ll be less likely to make it again and you’ll become a stronger person in the process.”

Ares didn’t respond and Malachai said nothing more, but that piece of wisdom stuck with Ares for a long time. He never had anyone to tell him that before. Hearing Malachai explain that made things click in his head. Sure, he was going to mess up, but that was okay. As long as he learned something from it, the mistake was worthwhile. Things could get a little messy from time to time, but he was doing his best.

One day while the men were travelling, they came across a cave in the side of a mountain, the entrance lit by two torches of blue fire. Ares and Malachai looked at each other nervously, but it was starting to get dark and the next town was still another two hours away.

“Should we risk it?” Ares asked, looking towards the setting sun.

Malachai stared into the dimly lit cave, and then looked back towards Ares. “I don’t think we have another choice. We’ll have to bring Alogo with, but the cave should be tall enough to fit her.”

Ares nodded and gulped, his mind racing. He couldn’t stop imagining all of the terrifying and possibly deadly things the cave could hold. Malachai noticed that Ares was nervous and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to be okay, kid. I’m going to go first and you’ll be right behind me. Remember those sword lessons I gave you?”

Ares nodded, thinking back to a few days prior when he gave him the basics on sword fighting. In the past day or so he’d really improved. Remembering he had some form of defense helped to somewhat ease his mind.

Malachai got their swords from Alogo’s saddle and handed one to Ares. They slowly crept into the cave, aware of every sound around them. That was another valuable lesson Malachai had taught him: pay attention to your surroundings. One night, when they couldn’t find a town before dark, Ares had almost gotten attacked one night by a wild animal. If it hadn’t been for Malachai’s keen senses, he would most likely be dead by now.

As they wandered into the cave, they heard noises coming from deeper within. They had been walking a minute or so at their slow pace, but the mountain range was large. Soon enough they came upon an opening in the tunnel. In front of them was a well-lit room lined with tapestries and beautiful artwork. There were relics and weapons scattered around the room, and various jars with unknown contents lined shelves on a far wall. In the back corner was a small bed and a desk littered with papers. It looked as though somebody lived here, and had for a long time.

“What are you doing in my cave, wanderers?”

Ares screamed and Malachai spun around and pointed his sword at the person who had spoken to them. It was an old man wearing long, maroon colored robes. He was bald but had a long, thick beard that reached his waist. He held his hands up in surrender and said, “Well that’s not a very kind way to greet your host,” with a chuckle.

Ares and Malachai looked at each other with confusion, and Malachai slowly lowered his sword. “What do you mean by host?”

The old man chuckled again. “I was expecting you, travellers. You,” he pointed at Ares, “are a boy from the Vitolla region.”

Ares’ jaw dropped, but the man continued, “And you, Malachai, are a warrior and messenger of the Kingdom of New Haven.”

“How do you know these things?” Malachai asked him, but the man just cackled.

“Would you like drinks? Or maybe some food? You’ve been travelling such a long time.”

Malachai was hesitant, but he was so hungry. Ares was quicker to trust him and sat down at a small table on the ground where three plates had been set out. Malachai slowly walked over to where Ares and the man sat, and joined them. With a wave of his hand and some muttering of words under his breath, the man made food magically appear on the table. Again, Ares’ jaw dropped to the floor.

“What are you, some kind of sorcerer?” Ares asked, dumbfounded.

“Very close, young one. I am a wizard! But you can just call me Gallagher.”

Ares smiled and started eating, shoving the food into his mouth. Slowly but surely, Malachai was beginning to trust the wizard. He did provide them with food and he seemed friendly enough.

“Thank you for the meal, Gallagher. It is very much appreciated.”

“You are very welcome Malachai. It is fate that you are here, my boys. I am supposed to help you with your quest!”

This got Malachai and Ares’ attention.

“You know about that? How are you supposed to help us?”

“Well, I am a wizard, Ares. I can do many things. But I foresaw a certain spell that will help you in rescuing the great King Aldrich.”

Ares’ was shocked to know that the magic in his stories was real. He had heard tales back in Vitolla from the older townspeople, but he didn’t think that they were actually true.

“Well, which spell is it?”

“Patience, warrior.”

Gallagher gently excused himself and went over to rummage through the jars on his shelves. For a few minutes he flipped through the books on his desk and retrieved various jars and ingredients in boxes around the room.

Malachai and Ares watched silently as Gallagher gathered his materials.

“The Outlaws of Baymyre are a tough group, they won’t go down without a fight. If they can fight, that is.” Gallagher said deviously.

“What do you mean by that?” Ares asked.

“Well, my child, I am creating for you a sleeping spell. This will put everyone within a large radius to sleep for a little while.”

“How long is a little while, Gallagher?”

“This is magic not science, Malachai. But it should last long enough to get you two and the king out safely.”

Malachai scoffed at the wizard’s comment but thanked him for the spell nonetheless. After some more food, everyone headed off to bed. Gallagher was generous enough to whip up a few cots for them to sleep on.

In the morning, Malachai and Ares packed up their things and fed Alogo with some food that Gallagher had in his cave. By the time the sun had risen, they were riding towards the Outlaw’s base where the king was being held. It was only a day and a half journey to reach the Outlaw garrison. They slept after the first day and arrived near their destination early the next day. There were a lot of Outlaw guards visible to Ares and Malachai, and they could only see the outside of the huge walls that surrounded the base. They needed to come up with a plan.

“Okay, Ares, here’s what we’re going to do. We will get to the gates, activate the spell, retrieve the king, and get back to Alogo where we’ll then ride back to New Haven. Got it?”

Ares pondered the plan for a moment, thinking carefully.

“Malachai, I’m not sure if that plan will work. The radius of the spell is only so large. What if it doesn’t reach everyone at the base and we get ambushed?”

“You’re right, we need to get closer, to the center of the base. That way it’ll reach everyone.”

“Oh! Gallagher gave me a potion before we left, one of invisibility. He said there was enough for two uses, so we could both drink some and sneak into the compound behind guards entering the gate!”

Malachai put a hand on Ares’ shoulder proudly, “Good thinking, kid.”

They hid Alogo behind a large tree so that the sentries wouldn’t spot her, and then drank half the vial each. There wasn’t much of the liquid, but it tasted awful. Ares’ scrunched his nose as he drank, forcing himself to swallow. Malachi drank quickly, without flinching.

After a few minutes, the effects set in and they were completely invisible. They were

ready.

Luckily the potion made anything worn by the receiver of it invisible as well, so they were able to bring their swords and the ingredients for the sleeping spell with them. The best part was that those who drank the potion could still see everything turned invisible.

A few Outlaws with supplies from New Haven entered the base, Ares and Malachai unknowingly among them. They snuck through alleyways and hid behind Outlaws walking around the compound, going completely unnoticed. The mission was almost too easy, Ares thought to himself.

The men were hiding behind a building, trying to figure out a way to get into the main tower in the center of the base only a few yards away. “No one is opening the doors, Malachai. What are we going to do?”

A few Outlaws started walking towards them and Ares panicked. He stumbled backwards, afraid that they might see him.

BANG!

Ares had knocked over the metal bowls behind them, alerting the guards that were walking in their direction. As if that wasn’t bad enough, that was the exact moment Malachai’s potion of invisibility started to wear off. He had taken the first sips of the potion, Ares not long after. So if his potion was wearing off, that meant that Ares’ would any minute. The guards spotted Malachai and started running at him.

Malachai turned to Ares and shouted, “RUN!” before drawing his sword and squaring up to the Outlaws coming at him.

Ares teared up, not wanting to leave his only friend behind to be captured.

Malachai turned over his shoulder, knowing that he would be hesitant to leave, and mouthed one word. Go.

Ares had run to the top of an abandoned watchtower to hide. From there he watched Malachai take down a dozen Outlaws before eventually being captured and taken into the tower. It was so incredibly hard to watch him be taken away by the guards. This wouldn’t have happened if he had been smarter, more careful… not a screw up.

Ares held his face in his hands, letting the tears fall. It was his fault that Malachai had gotten captured. Everyone in Vitolla was right, he destroyed everything. He had ruined the mission and gotten the only person he cared about locked away. Ares cried, feeling sorry for himself. Malachai should’ve never taken him on his quest. He was a bad luck charm to anyone who interacted with him.

But in that moment, Malachai’s words from early in their journey came to him.

“You are not jinxed, Ares, I promise you that. Yes, you make mistakes but that is a part of life. It happens to the best of us. It doesn’t matter that you mess up because failure teaches you to be better. It makes you stronger as a person. Learn from your mistakes and grow from them. And never, ever give up.”

Ares wiped his eyes and lifted his head. He couldn’t give up now, not while New Haven was at stake. Not while his friend was locked away because of him. Ares stood, scoping out the area. What would Malachai do?

Ares rummaged around in his pocket, taking out the vial that held the invisibility potion. There were a few drops left. It wouldn’t last very long, but it might be long enough. He was still close to the central tower, he could make it if he hurried. This was his best shot at saving Malachai and the king.

Ares took a deep breath, focusing on the steps of his plan. He could do this. With Malchai’s supportive words echoing in his head, Ares let the last drops of the potion fall on his tongue.

After the potion activated, Ares ran as fast as he could to the central tower. Once at the entrance, he used the advantage of his invisibility and the hand to hand combat skills Malachai taught him to knock out the guards. There were only two, since many of the guards went outside the wall to stop others trying to get in.

Once inside the tower, Ares set out the ingredients for the sleeping spell, carefully adding the correct amounts in the right order the way Gallagher showed him. As he added the last ingredient to the small bowl, the bowl sparked and a blue fire ignited for a second, before going out. Blue smoke rose out of the bowl signaling that the spell was complete. Ares pumped his fist in the air to celebrate his accomplishment before remembering Gallagher’s words warning him that the spell only lasts so long.

He quickly climbed the steps of the tower before he reached the door at the top. He pulled it open to reveal Malachai and King Aldrich sitting together in a small cell.

“Ares! I knew you’d make it back. I figured it was you that rendered the guards inactive.” He gestured to the guards slumped over on the ground.

Ares smiled and retrieved the keys for the cell from the sleeping guard. As soon as the cell opened, Malachai embraced Ares in his strong arms, holding him tightly. “Thank you for coming back.”

“You were the one who gave me hope.” Ares smiled, hugging Malachai back. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I hate to interrupt this tender moment, but we need to leave before the Outlaws wake up.”

Malachai and Ares nodded, getting their things the guards had taken before descending the tower, King Aldrich following behind them. They ran through the compound, Malachai leading them through the twists and turns of the structures, before they finally made it to the front gate. They pushed open the heavy doors and ran through the walls, finally escaping the Outlaw’s base. They made it to the tree where they had hidden Alogo, packed up their things, and rode off.

They had completed their quest! Ares could still feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins as the Outlaw’s garrison slowly faded from view. He could get used to this hero thing.

King Aldrich expressed his thanks on the journey back to New Haven, promising his rescuers lavish rewards for their efforts. Malachai graciously turned down the offer because of his honor as a warrior messenger to the kingdom. Ares was disappointed, but followed suit. He wanted to experience the benefits of saving King Aldrich, but thought it better to be humble.

When they arrived back at New Haven after riding for two days, the Outlaws of Baymyre had already gone. They had heard of the king's rescue and thought it better to leave before he returned. With King Aldrich back in charge and the Outlaws gone, the Kingdom of New Haven was restored to its original state of peace and harmony. The people rejoiced and King Aldrich threw a massive festival to celebrate his return and the bravery of Ares and Malachai. They feasted for several days, and they danced and sang with the people. It was anything unlike Ares had ever experienced before. It was magical, to say the least. And after all of the festivities concluded and things returned to normal, Ares had to make a decision on what to do next.

All he knew was that he was never going back to Vitolla. Before, all he wanted was for his town to think of him as more than a screw up. He wanted to be the hero. And now that he was, he thought about returning to Vitolla to prove to everyone that he was more than they said he was. But this quest had changed him. He no longer sought the approval of anyone for he knew deep down that he was a hero. He didn’t need the praise of others anymore. All he wished was to continue learning under Malachai and learning to be a warrior-messenger like him. Fortunately, Malachai agreed. He offered to train Ares, and Ares gratefully accepted.

Yes, there were many bumps along Ares’ journey, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Like Malachai had said many times before, failure is part of the long road to success.

Now, Ares had everything he had hoped for, and he couldn’t wait to experience everything Baymyre had to offer him.

The splash of crimson and gold

Waltz across the sky

And I can’t believe the Gods

Can create such a beautiful thing

Has it always been like this?

Maybe I just haven’t noticed,

Haven’t had the vision to really see

Until you opened my eyes

We walk in a rhythm

Similar to the way the wispy clouds glide The coldness of the winter wind pinches my ankles And it threatens to bite

But you’re right there next to me

Humming the tune of your childhood

A reminder of how far you’ve come

And I begin to feel warm

We continue to walk hand in hand

Like sun and moon

Your life gleaming in the day

And I, reflecting it in the night

When I look up into your swirling brown eyes I only see beauty and love

I like how you leave so dramatically

How you must let the world know

It’s been quite the day

And you must be so tired

But please don’t go just yet

You see, I’m a little scared of the dark