《He-Thing and the Cabal of the Cosmos》The Forest in the Lake
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Halfway on his journey
to the metaphor-defying
Castle Brave Bone,
Zolantos the Merciless Cripple,
warrior-poet, Imperial Champion,
noticed an inconsistency in the throttle
of the lasercopter’s right sorcery-engine.
Lasercopters were precise —
finicky —
machines,
and Zolantos knew
he could not ignore trouble with it.
He gently
landed the lasercopter
next to a large,
mirror-like lake
in the middle of a grassy flatland.
He twisted the ignition jewel
between his two fingers,
shutting off the lasercopter’s sorcery-engines.
Silence swelled around Zolantos,
and he felt incredibly alone.
A voice ran through his head —
“You are never alone, Zol.”
Ionelle’s voice,
always in the silence,
always
when he was in grave danger.
He didn’t turn his head,
knew she stood behind him,
her fingers lightly
on the back of the pilot seat,
the tresses of her auburn hair
flowing down her shoulders,
frontier woman,
witch-woman,
his woman.
Zolantos decided
to ignore her.
He unbuckled his harness,
and walked back
to the engine room.
The spirit
would not be ignored.
“I have come
to warn you, Zol,”
Ionelle spoke.
“You must listen.”
Zolantos opened the compartment
of the right sorcery-engine and
ducked his head
into the magic smoke —
as he had suspected, one of the
quantum bolts in the hover manifold
was resonating in the wrong hue.
This would take time.
“You must not follow the stag,”
Ionelle continued.
“You have to listen to me.”
Zolantos decided to make camp.
He would fix the sorcery-engine,
and sleep by the lake.
It took a few hours
to fix the sorcery-engine.
Afterward,
Zolantos fished a trout out of the river,
and fried it with lard and salt
he always kept in the lasercopter.
Zolantos sat against a stone,
and lit his pipe, sighing.
The ghost relegated herself
to the shadows,
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watching him,
until,
finally,
Zolantos bellowed
in pleading thunder,
“Oh, banish from me, Spirit!
And let me rest.”
Ionelle shivered.
“You must leave here now, Zol,”
she said.
“Begone, woman!”
Zolantos repeated.
“Torment me no longer!”
Her feelings hurt,
the spirit faded.
Evening had fallen.
The lake was still
and silent.
Zolantos’ fire crackled softly.
His Cosmic Paranoia
became quiet
and calm.
The wind was soft,
caressing.
Zolantos sank into sleep.
In his dream,
Zolantos saw narrow hooves
stepping through the grassland.
In his dreams,
Zolantos could see.
He turned his head,
and saw a stag stepping
near the lake,
its fur aglow in the purple moonlight,
its crown of antlers like a magic sigil.
The stag dipped a hoof
into the water,
and then another,
wading in up to its chest,
until the water
was just below its nose.
The stag waded deeper,
its head sunk below the surface,
its antlers all that stood
above the water,
until they too submerged in its depths.
Zolantos got to his feet.
How did the stag do that?
The lake grew closer.
Zolantos
looked down into its water;
in the shimmering shadows,
he saw branches blowing in the wind,
leaves fluttering,
a forest
in the lake.
He did not think long.
He stepped his foot into the water,
he could feel its coolness,
now up to his knees,
his waist,
soaking his clothes,
rising to his chest,
its tiny waves
like butterfly wings beneath his chin.
Zolantos followed the stag
and entered the forest.
to be continued...
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