The Lost Hilt of the Scabbard of Kaliespis… Part 2

THE LOST HILT OF THE SCABBARD OF KALIESPIS

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Part 2

Suddenly, darkness fell and Mika feared for his life.  He felt as if the whole of the world had encompassed him.  In his panic, he held tight to what he thought could only be the Lost Hilt of the Scabbard of Kaliespis.

The day was bright and sunny with a subtle breeze that did little to cool the sweat forming on the faces that stood solemnly staring.  A voice was droning on but the old man wasn’t really comprehending what he was hearing.  To his left were two figures that were shaking and sniffing. 

Reaching out the old man placed a hand on top of the small coffin wherein lay his precious, grandson.  As tears formed, welled and dropped heavily from his eyes he said a silent prayer.

“God’s speed my dear, sweet grandson!  I hope you found what you were searching for.  I’ll be with you before you know it, and we can continue our adventures… I love you, Mika!”

Mika had not returned that day.  His small body was found beneath a ton of earth where one side of the gully had caved in.  He was sitting upright clutching a lump of clay against his chest while his other hand lay at his side grasping a stick. 

THE END

The Lost Hilt of the Scabbard of Kaliespis… Part 1

THE LOST HILT OF THE SCABBARD OF KALIESPIS

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Part 1

Legend tells the story of a great warrior of days gone by.  Stories passed down through generations, now, are only stories.  Some call them pure fiction based on wild imagination when winters were long and indoor activities were few.  However, others believe they are based on truth.  Such is the case of the Lost Hilt of the Scabbard of Kaliespis.

Mika sat mesmerized as his grandfather recounted the story of the Lost Hilt.  In his mind, he could picture the sword fights and the blood, decapitations, and thrusts from the infamous weapon as it sliced and diced through the enemy of the Kaliespis tribe of Shear.  

Mika loved the sound of his grandfather’s deep, melancholic voice.  He was always disappointed to wake up the next morning having fallen asleep during the story.  Though he knew the story well he never tired of it.

Now, Mika, an over-enthusiastic young lad of 11 years, would often play down in the gully near his home and pretend he was one of the warriors of the Kaliespis tribe of Shear.  With the perfect stick in hand, he would thoroughly thrash the bushes and trees with his overwhelming skills in swordsmanship.  In his mind, he too one day would wield the infamous sword.

On such a day as this Mika was tired after an intensely fought battle.  Against the shaded, shear bank of clay that made up one wall of the gully, Mika sought his rest.  He found that if he dug out some of the walls that the clay was cool and comforting.  This was especially attractive after annihilating and dismembering so many of his dreaded foe on this hot summer day.

As he leaned back against the wall he was aware of a distinct discomfort pressing rather obtusely upon his left shoulder.  He turned and with some effort, he managed to dig out the offending clay-encrusted clump, using his trusty sword (stick), and lay it down before him.  “What the heck is this?” he wondered aloud.  Poking and picking away the clay Mika gasped at what he held in his hands.  Running down to the very bottom of the gully Mika found a small puddle of water left over from the last rain.  He thrust his prize into the water and feverishly rubbed it clean.  Holding it up in front of him he exclaimed, “no way!”

To Be Continued

The Spell… a short story

Ghost, Halloween, Woman, Female, Beauty
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Her only hope was cascading away in a whimsy of words appearing upon the walls.  This spell, the one she found in her great grandmother’s diary, the one she thought was only words of lore, now have meaning. 

And, from her childhood, she recalled the eerie words of her grandmother who often talked of witchcraft and her own mother’s ability to deal with undesirables who came uninvited into her home.  Even the small memory of her great grandfather, who she never knew, but who she had heard terrifying stories about began to make sense.  He had disappeared without a trace.

Isabelle accepted this fate seeing her existence fading into light, like the spell read, but she maintained her composure and watched her very being subjugated into nothingness. 

Phoenix… a poem

Image result for phoenix bird

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Coalescing out of nothing

But the ashes of tears

From the wayward son

Ostracized over years.

Denounced in his worth

As the gods watched and sighed.

“Tis not the end to our chosen!”

And the Phoenix flared to life.

SENSE OF HUMOR… a short story

white bed comforter set and brown wooden bed frame beside brown wooden nightstand
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As he walked the halls

Waiting for her return

He relives their lives together.

High school sweethearts

Falling in love and getting

Married straight out of school.

The children have grown up

And started families of their own.

Grandparents?

How did that happen?

It seems like yesterday,

But it was a long time ago.

Here she is.

Finally!

“Goodnight, my love!

Sweet dreams!

I will wait for you

Hereon the other side.

You’re going to love it here.

God has a great sense of humor!”

Splinter… 15 Minute Fiction

15-minute Fiction Week challenge. The challenge is to create a story or poem based on the given photo in 100 words.

Imbedded in these hallowed halls

Light is stenciled

On the floors and walls

Captured from another time

Witness lost

To the sublime

Heavy is the burden still

Flushed to flight

A Whippoorwill

Boots once scuffed

Upon these floors

The story lost

Forever more

And yet, ‘tis here

From days gone past

A shift in time

That will not last

And even poltergeist take flight

Afraid of day

Afraid of night

Oh, weathered door

What do you see

A splinter in reality

The Solo Dancer

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The following short-fiction is inspired by the photo above posted by Diana of Myths of the Mirror.

Time had transformed the future into a robotic and Artificial Intelligence ruled world. Children were created only in test tubes and mankind, as we once knew it, had collapsed into technological chaos.

Relationships between humans were, for the most part, non-existent. Human life was lost to the very technology that mankind had once so proudly worshipped as the future to save the planet.

Manipulation of DNA was initiated by the Keepers early in the gestation period and the vessels (mothers) were kept in stasis. All this leading to an obviously unsustainable population.

Mar had traveled far on a cruise ship that had been lost at sea for years. He grew up with parents, still of the old days, who taught him how to survive. They recognized that creativity was going to help Mar live a fuller life, so they taught him to dance and entertain. These lessons helped him to survive and keep his sanity after a plague wiped out all but he and a handful of others on the ship.

The sun was first blocked by the small planet, now in synchronous orbit with the earth, back in the late 2020s. What Mar remembered was the ship had lost all contact with the world when communications ceased to work after the ship barely survived the wrath of the ocean during the horrific transition. The captain and most of the crew had also perished during the catastrophe.

When supplies on the ship had eventually run out and the equipment to catch fish had all dilapidated or broken… it was time to leave.

In one of the lifeboats, Mar made his way to the distant buildings and then upon the deserted shore. Though scared, of he knew not what, Mar straightened his frame; he took a deep breath; and then, he danced a solo dance.

JUST WAIT

landscape photography of forest
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“Just wait!  It’ll come any minute now.” 

“Yeah!  Sure, it will!  Just like it was going to last night.”

Kellen was determined not to give up because he believed.  He had to believe.  Nothing else in his life ever worked out, but this time he could feel it in his bones.  It was coming – tonight.

Brock, on the other hand, didn’t want to stand around all night.  He only agreed to come with Kellen because his girlfriend was sick.  Otherwise, he would be out with her.

“Nothing’s coming!”

Kellen stammered, “Oh my God!”

Tell The Story…

MSJadeli, Tao Talk, has tagged me to follow up in this challenge of “Tell the Story’ which was created by The Eclectic Contrarian.

tree hugger
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Here is my take on the image above:

Some called him foolish and others called him brave

A lowly man with his camera at the mouth of the cave

But not just a cave that you would normally see

No, this was a cave in the trunk of a tree

For hundreds of years, the rumors had flown

Of the sounds that emanated from regions unknown

And all sorts of creatures that crept out at night

From the mouth of this cave, something didn’t seem right

So, looking for truth and to put rumors down

A brave, young cowboy had come into town

He set up his table, and camera and chair

To see what the fuss was and what was happening there

The local paper sent a photographer to capture the scene

After snapping some shots he fled with a scream

Because deep from inside that old, old tree cave

Came a bellowing sound just like a shockwave

When the police arrived the very next day

No signs were seen of what had been foul play

Nothing was there at the entrance, you see

Just the mouth of a cave in the trunk of a tree

Now I am supposed to challenge 3 bloggers:

Miles Venison, In Search of Lost Marbles

Winnie, Musings


Dorinda Duclos, Night Owl Poetry

Guidelines … Create your own Tell The Story around the image below, then select three bloggers of your own and add your own image to complete the tag. All you need do is create a tale, story or poem.  Take your time and have fun!

Trees, Forest, Tribe, Wood, Dead Wood
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