Expertus Metuit

     For two days Chief Justice Fraunx Adonis had spent his afternoons silently watching The Inquisitor’s team at work. Generally speaking, he wouldn’t give a second thought to physical coercion as a method of obtaining information. However, after what he’d seen in the chamber hidden under the Heart of the Seven Faeries, he seriously contemplated ordering the Regular Militia to abstain from enhanced interrogations until a full study could be conducted regarding the efficiency of the method. It was definitely something he’d have to bring up at the next meeting of the Antigone Courts. Fortunately, The Inquisitor was a gift from his brother, Typhon the Supreme Guru of Poterit Dan, and as such was not subject to Donian law. Of course, if they were caught by Mercury’s Elite Guard, none of it would matter for they’d all pay in blood.

Magna Fuga

     Kent Wheelock lay, unconscious, in a congealed pool of his own blood and bile. A poultice made from a falcon-regurgitated poppy covered his missing left eye. Fulco stood on the footboard of the collapsed bed in the corner of the dilapidated shack. The fireplace grating groaned as it was pushed aside by a bald old man who clambered up and out. Fulco cawed. Kent moaned, but did not move. From inside his fur-lined cape, the old man pulled out a long thin cloth. He knelt beside Kent, then lifted the young man’s head to wrap the cloth around the injured eye thus securing the poultice in place.

Arcana Imperii

     Hand-carved obsidian and ivory chess pieces battled across solid silver and gold fields on a board detailed with blazing phoenixes. The intricate board held plenty of fascination for young Archel, who gawked over it hungrily. However, Archel’s true interest lay in understanding the movements of each magnificent piece.

     “Wait. Why did you do that? I thought that prawns could only move forward or take diagonally,” Archel said.

     “En passé,” Fintan answered.

     “An pass, say what?” Archel asked.

     “‘En passant’ is the name of the move,” the Kaiser corrected.

     “Potatoes,” the old bard replied.

     “Fintan. I had the impression you were teaching the boy.”

Caveat Cadaver

     Private Richard Machine came out of the latrine thankful he’d made it in time. The 20 minute ride back to Camp Polkner had been bumpy; at times he’d cursed his luck certain he’d explode. Machine swore he’d lay off the hard liquors; it always soured his stomach the next day. Since the crisis was over, he decided to stop at Geedunk to pick up some hangover foods. There was no telling how long it’d take the commander to get on site and they’d missed both breakfast and lunch. Besides, the chow hall wouldn’t open again until 6pm and that was too long to wait. Fortunately, Geedunk was on the way off base, which meant he could hit it up and be back before West killed the prisoner. 

Monti Redire

     Cassie waited in the bushes, sitting with her feet folded up under her. When she felt her feet start to tingle, she carefully adjusted her position. That’s when she noticed the calico walk up the steps to the second house on the left, sit down on the porch, and stare into the dark. As the cat’s head moved towards her, light from the house across the street made its green eyes glow eerily. She shivered in the bushes. The slight movement was all that the cat needed, it walked down the steps into the street, and headed right for her.

     “We’re being watched. I’ll be back when its time,” the calico whispered as it passed her by. The cat darted off after something, perhaps nothing. Either way, Tokus Cassius continued to wait, thankful she wouldn’t have to walk just yet because her feet were still asleep.

Memoria Tenere

     “Archel!” bellowed Fraunx Adonis, “Archel, where in all of Iphi are you? Get in here. Now!”

     “Coming!” Archel shouted back.

     Standing with hands on his hips, impatiently tapping his right toe, Adonis stood in his foyer staring at the empty space above the fireplace. The boy slid through the oak doors. “About time. I told you last week I wanted that painting in here. Why isn’t it here? I’m here. It’s not. Explain.”

     Archel slapped his head, “oh, I forgot.”

Filius Aesalonis

     Kent Wheelock used his filthy sweat-soaked pink sleeve to wipe the streams running down his face. The futility struck him as fresh drops of sweat rolled into his almond eyes which closed against the stinging salt. Hard time in quarry country always meant death. He cursed his bad luck; if he hadn't spent the last month slowly starving he could easily have overtaken the two imbecilic guards. As it stood, he was dehydrated, emaciated, and exhausted from shoveling his own grave. He needed a break. Every so often he paused taking in deep breaths.

Astra Declive

          Sandy blonde locks danced across the young woman's brow as she stared out at the roaring blue expanse. No clouds, just wind.  She looked over the edge of the cliff at the speck 150 feet down, shuddered at the thought of missing the ledge, hugged her black leather jerkin and murmured a prayer, then stepped off. Initial descent created momentary panic: she just knew she'd miss until she just knew she wouldn't. Her breathing steadied, her fall slowed to a stop. She hovered like a swimmer floats, relaxed, not a care in the world. Tunic and cotton breeches flapped around her battered old knapsack, which was a gift from the old woman. The watery beat on the breakers picked up as the wind whipped her against the cliff. Her desire to relax quickly oscillated to the desire to land safely.

Sol Oriens

And alien tears will fall for him

Pity’s long-broken urn

For his mourners will be out cast men

And outcasts always mourn.

Oscar Wilde - tombstone

(Pere Lachaise, Paris, France)

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Author's Note

Blink.
In that split second of darkness nothing changed.
Blink.
A billion seconds equals 31.69 years. I'm 35. I'm over a billion seconds old. Great. Now, I feel old.
Blink.

Announcing Terra Damnata

The next adventure? It starts 31 October 2015!

After years of work, my first novel is nearly ready. Terra Damnata will be blogged weekly, beginning 31 October 2015, in honor of all the bloggers around the world who have died speaking out against injustices.

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Terra Damnata follows the struggle of Archel, a servant to the Antigone Courts, who is thrust into the political maelstrom of a changing kingdom. Sent to Kaiser Rudolpho Imler, Archel finds his life is about to become more interesting than ever before imagined. With werecats, teleporters, and genetically mutating Gryphon Kings this post-apocalyptic fantasy series delves into civilization centuries after the nuclear fallout settles.

Terra Damnata is Book 1 of The Pu'Shing Bhu'Tons Series.