Fey Touched: Part 2

This short segment is the following installment of an ongoing internet series.  The first part of this story is: The Lord of Two Lands.  

The segment before this one is Fey Touched, Part I

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It was a beautiful day in Central Park. There were certain hours designated for when an owner did not have to have their dog leashed. This was not such an hour. So Aaron was kept on a leash no longer than six feet, even though he calmly walked beside Thomas, not giving any kind of problem whatsoever. In fact, Thomas was worried just a little because Aaron was behaving too well. As a dog, Aaron was behaving so well during the walk---keeping a steady and calm pace next to Thomas---that there was even a mildly annoying bit of slack in the leash.

The park was not full. It was a weekday. To be sure, the park had its patrons. Old negroes playing chess. A young woman in a tank tops briskly walking, checking her pulse on a smart watch. A couple leisurely walking their dog passed by, and the latter sniffed and growled at Aaron. But he kept his composure and remained the abnormally well-mannered dog that he was. A breeze of fresh air rolled down from the sky and gently shook the tree branches. A few stray dandelion seeds blew across their path, and a black butterfly with blue spots flapped across the path. It was a perfect moment to be in that exact spot.

A short distance away stood a hot dog vendor. He looked directly at Thomas and Aaron, and he maintained a restrained smile on his unshaven face.

“Need some lunch?” the man asked. “You and your little friend, there?”

Thomas looked down at the dog, and Aaron nodded his head quietly. They walked over to the man who seemed just as ordinary and forgettable as any other man. Tom took a pretzel for $2. But then the vendor said:

“Nothing for your friend? Maybe a polish sausage?”

Aaron nodded quietly and compliantly to his human companion. Wide-eyed and nervous, Thomas hesitantly said he’d take one. He took it plain with nothing on it. After the vendor handed it to him, Tom just stood there hesitantly, confused about what he’d do next. The vendor said:

“Don’t worry about it, buddy. Just give it to him. I won’t say nothin’.”

And so Tom did. He squatted down and put the hot dog in Aaron’s mouth, letting him bite it piece by piece. He wouldn’t just place food on the ground. Who wants to eat off the ground, after all? And if it were true that Aaron was once a man, it’s likely he appreciated the courtesy of not being treated like the animal he was. The vendor was fully invested in watching this. Smiling, he looked over his cart at the gentle dog and sniffed.

“That last one’s on the house.”

“Are you sure?” Tom’s eyes winced with suspicion.

“Yeah, it’s okay. He looked hungry.” The vendor smiled, nodded, and stepped back. Then, looking down, he breathed in, and cleared his throat. “Say, fellas, I think you might wanna head over to Cleopatra’s Needle over that way. There’s a fairy ring growin’ over in the shade over there you might be interested in. Your friend, here, might wanna take a nap in the middle of it.”

“What?” Thomas stood up straight very quickly. He looked down at Aaron, then back at the vendor, then to the tree line in the distance, and back again to the vendor. “You’re telling me my dog’s going to sleep? Did you just poison him?”

The vendor stood aback, his hand on his heart. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how many years it took me to get a license to do this? Look, you two looked like you were in a tough spot, and I offered the free advice. And the free sausage. Here, have a free soda on the house, too.” The vendor handed Thomas an icy cold can of Pepsi. “You better get over there, though. Before some kid or a bum kicks all the mushrooms down.” He lifted his hand and pointed north. Another pedestrian stopped and reached in his pockets as he grabbed the vendor’s attention. Aaron started walking, and he gently pulled the leash taut, leading Thomas away from the hot dog vendor.

They walked about fifteen minutes until they finally came to it: Cleopatra’s Needle. That’s what the locals called it. But for Aaron, it was something much more---for this was the very obelisk where he lost his humanity at the hands of a sorcerer. Aaron’s stride slowed down, and he was afraid to approach the monument. Thomas tilted his head, looking at the ancient structure. 

“So, this is the place where it happened,” he said.

Fey Touched, Part 1

This short segment is the following installment of an ongoing internet series.  

The first part of this story is: The Lord of Two Lands.  

The segment after this one is Fey Touched, Part 2

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The semester was over, and finals were graded.  Summer vacation in Manhattan would now begin, but it didn't matter for Thomas.  His journey into higher education was destroyed---at least in that town.  Lucky him, he was the recipient of much of his late father's cashed-out 401k and a trust fund started when he was just a baby.  His apartment rent was no problem for now, although it was no longer justifiable.  His father, perhaps living vicariously through him, had high hopes for his son's future.  And although he sometimes resented his father's familial delusions of grandeur, he didn't mind so much the opportunities afforded him.  

He should be upset, he thought.  But he wasn't.  Expelled from NYU, and his girlfriend having moved out, ordinarily he'd feel like a boat without a rudder at this stage.  Perhaps he could transfer his credits elsewhere.  But he loved The City, and continuing his degree at another college could force him to leave.  This, he did not want.  New York was a land of adventure so completely different from his mid-Western small town.  A great man once said that "The modern city is ugly not because it is a city, but because it is not enough of a city, because it is a jungle, because it is confused and anarchic, and surging with selfish and materialistic energies."  And it was a jungle that he wanted.  Layer upon layer of history was there.  Frontier spirit pressed underneath 19th Century poverty, sandwiched underneath war, plastered over with modern opulence--all of it held together by the mortar of money, sex, religion, murder, superstition, and every other novelty of the human spirit.  But it was this kind of thinking--this kind of naïve, adventurous wonder--that got him expelled in the first place.  

Whatever his troubles, sad he was not.  Entirely preoccupied, he came back tot he apartment with an entire pizza, enough for him and one other.  He threw his keys in the bowl next to the door and announced his return: "Okay, I've got the meat lover's this time.  I think this one should satisfy your cravings.  You still here?"

The pitter patter of canine nails on the hardwood floor trailed their way to him from another room.  The German Shepherd stopped in the doorway and bobbed his head up and down, his tail wagging.  

"I'm not hungry for this," said Thomas.  "Honestly, I could probably only eat a fourth of this.  You said you wanted half?"

The dog bobbed his head up and down again, his mouth closed and bearing no teeth.  

"And you said you'd have a new statement?  Is it ready?"

Again, the dog "nodded."  Thomas took a few slices out and put them on a plate.  He set the box of pizza on the floor, and the German Shepherd moved in and started eating on the pizza.  

He went to the back of the apartment.  On the floor was arranged a computer, a keyboard, and a mouse.  A little tool with a band on it wide enough for the dog's paw lay next to the keyboard.  The printer, also situated on the floor, had a page printed out.  He took the paper and began to read as he reached for a slice of pizza:

"The landlord came today.  At the door, he asked out loud if you were home.  I think he suspects you have a dog in your apartment.  I didn't bark or anything.  Thank you for the pizza.  I will repay you when I'm back to normal.  Just don't ever get me dog food again, please."

Amused by that last sentence, Thomas' brow lifted, and he raised his pizza slice to the dog in salute.  "You're welcome, Aaron.  It's no problem.  Sorry about yesterday's misunderstanding.  I was in a hurry."  He eased into a chair next to his little kitchen table, stared out the window to the building across the street, and took another bite.  "I need to get you out.  You can't just stay cooped up in my apartment forever--even if you're housetrained and using the toilet.  You need some sunshine.  We've got to break this cycle.  We've got to get out and breathe while we wait to make the next move.  So I was thinking.  What do you say I go get a collar and a leash, and we go all-out and official, and I 'take you for a walk' tomorrow?  Fresh air can only help."

The dog chewed up the final morsels of his latest bite, gulping them down quietly.  He paused, looked at the front door, but returned his deliberate gaze to Thomas, not opening his mouth once.

"Look," said Thomas, holding his hands out as if to plead with the dog, "I know it probably makes you uncomfortable. But we have to at least pretend you're a regular dog if we go out in public.  It's the only way we can pull off leaving this apartment."

After a moment of consideration, Aaron "nodded" his head again, agreeing with the plan.  Tomorrow they would go out.  

That night, they abided by their stipulated sleeping arrangement.  Thomas slept in his bed, while Aaron took the couch.  But it was a sleepless night for him.  Thomas went out earlier and picked up the leash and collar.  But going back out into the wide world was a frightening prospect.  He lay there, his head resting atop his crossed over arms, staring out to the balcony, his German Shepherd eyes filled with worry.  

Then, all of a sudden, a man was there on the balcony.  It was as though he blinked into existence.  Where did he come from?  Aaron couldn't figure it out.  The figure appeared human at first, though he also looked somehow different from a normal man.  He was dressed in a formal dark suit, and when Aaron spied him, the stranger grinned back shortly before he blinked out of existence again.  

Aaron raised his head.  He even growled a bit, though he stopped himself from barking.  But once the stranger was gone, he hurried over to the wall switch, turned on the lights, and then ran over to the computer.  With difficulty, the dog pushed his right paw through the loop of the stick tool, and he used it to turn on the computer.  As he was pulling up the notepad with great clumsiness and difficulty, Thomas awoke to see his roommate preparing to "talk" to him again with a new note.  An hour later, after the dog had slowly typed letter after letter using the special tool Thomas had made for him, the printer had a full message in its tray:

"A strange man appeared on the balcony and disappeared again.  But he was not a man.  He was a creature trying to look like a man.  We have the attention of other forces at work.  I'm not sure where this one is from, though."

After reading the message, Thomas set the paper down and dated it in pen.  He'd add it to the stack of other notes typed out for him by Aaron.  He made sure the door and windows were locked.  He kept the stove and bathroom lights on for the rest of the night, and eventually his alertness wore off, and he fell asleep again.  This time, though, he allowed Aaron to sleep in the bed next to him.  He was still just a dog, after all.   

  

Lord of the Two Lands, Part 5

I will admit, I've been watching The Thing lately.  (The 80s version and the one from 2011.)

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Part 5

The old tycoon snarled and stomped and pointed his finger up at the count and his spokesman.  "How dare you play such tricks.  You honestly think we'll fall for something this far fetched?  Sorcery doesn't do things like this.  Street magicians do this.  We've wasted our time coming here.  Send my fire back to her flat when you're done with her."  He turned his back to the count, making his way off of the circular sidewalk.  He snarled again, adjusted his neck, and loosened his collar.

Yet then, he heard the shuffling of many feet behind him, and all of his colleagues once more spoke in unison with one voice: "Fashioned, was he, to be the sole ruler, the Lord of the Two Lands."

He turned and saw his associates and friends gathered around the obelisk, staring at him.  Behind the crowd towered the count.  He must have been over seven feet in height.  His delegate remained at his side, and in the back shadows stood his private security detail.  A moment passed.  The crowd flinched and woke from their spell.  Blinking their eyes and rubbing their hands, they looked at one another in confusion.

The count who stood as a statue for so long lifted his arms into the air, his palms facing upward.  He rolled his eyes back, closed them, and re-opened them.  Now they were white and almost glowing.  He opened his mouth, baring his teeth---his top two incisors sharp and pointy.  He looked upward into the sky, as did everyone.  Two lights, high in the air, descended to the place where they all were.  One light on each side of the obelisk hovered above the ground.  The count's head contorted itself, so that the nose came far out, and his ears rose up.  In the end, his head resembled that of an ancient Egyptian jackal.

The spy in the bushes cowered and lie prostrate on the ground, trembling and covered in sweat.  Surely all of the light will reveal my hiding spot, he thought.

The wealthy crowd stared with open jaws as they marveled at the count and the lights on each side of the obelisk.  The old tycoon stepped back to take in the scene before him.  All at once, everyone flinched and held onto their heads.  Then some fell to the ground on their hands and knees.  Others kept standing.  Their forms were changing.  One man turned a dark slimy green, his transformation ending once he resembled a man-frog.  Another fell down and metamorphed into a bull.  Other men and women moaned and cried out as they changed into other animals.

Smoke rose into the air amidst all the tumult, and the air reeked of burning cauterized flesh.  Some of the wealthy couples had their own security personnel waiting for them at the carriages, but when the noises, lights, and smoke began, all of the guards rushed up the stairs and beheld a cacophany of human beings caught up in a painful orgy of screeching, swelling, pulsing flesh, some being absorbed into one another, others fusing together.  Struck dumb with confusion, the guards of the aristocrats paused in fright at the roars, the bleating, and the screaming.  They couldn't make sense of the fangs, jowls, claws, batwings, and slithering, half-absorbed people, or the strange sight of half-man half-fish creature.  When they reached for their guns, they were gone.  As were the tazers and batons.  In short order they, too, fell to the ground and writhed in agony, themselves transforming until they became pigs.

Apart from the security men, three men, writhing on the ground, were dragged by an invisible force into each other.  Their clothes ripped from their bodies as though something was violently stripping them naked.  Their groans became muffled as their mouths disappeared, and in a gruesome display, the flesh of the trio formed together in one great mass with six legs sticking out, and the change continued until a single head of a lion emerged, and the six legs became that of six goat legs going around the main body of the creature like a wheel.  Another person, who it was the still-normal tycoon couldn't tell, was doubled up on the ground, their upper torso turned into the bust of a hawk.  Still another person was changed into a goat-man who fell over himself when he tried standing on his hooved feet.

When it all appeared finished, the frog-man and the cat-woman were dragged by an invisible force into one another, and when they fused, they became a two-headed creature---one head cat, the other head a frog---atop a base of spider legs.  While most of the other elites were transformed into animals or half-animals, this fusion of the tycoon's wife and the frog-man was the most unnatural of them all, and it caused the sweaty, flush old man to step back a little further.  This horrendous display was all for him.

"The express resemblance of the gods is changed into some brutish form!" laughed the count's spokesman.  "And they, so perfect is their misery, not once perceived their foul disfigurement, but boast themselves more comely than before.  And all their friends and native home forget, and they roule with pleasure in a sensual sty."

"Supreme Therion!" the wealthy man uttered, bowing.  "I have vast wealth.  Connections.  Infrastructure.  We can set up great things if we work together.  Tonight alone, you've liquidated over a third of my competitors.  Work with me!  Teach me your magick!  Let me be your corporate representative.  I have so much I can offer you!

A sharp pain suddenly brought the tycoon to his knees. His hair falling out, including that of his moustache and his eyebrows, he brought his hands to his face.  Something was happening to him, though he was not transforming as of yet.  Then, an invisible hand grabbed at his feet, dragging him screaming, until he was brought into the melded cat and frog creature.  After becoming absorbed into the monster, two more spider legs grew out of the creature's base, yet the original head of the man remained.  Thus, the creature was such, that it contained the head of a cat, a frog, and an old man atop a base of spider legs.

The count's smirking spokesman stepped towards the spider creature and crowned the old man's head with a wreath of leaves---a prop from the earlier play.  "My lord was more interested in a merger, I do believe."

The tumultuous herd of animals and creatures moaned and squealed, bleated and grunted.  The lights hovering on each side of the obelisk grew ever-brighter, until finally everything became white.  When the light disappeared, everyone was gone.  The man in the bushes breathed a sigh of relief.  He looked all around, but found there was no one there but him.  The count, his men, the rich aristocrats, and even the line of carriages were gone.  In fact, there were even a few people strolling the sidewalks.

Slowly, he made his way up to the obelisk, which now was only lit by the streetlamps that encircled it.  On the ground lay the cup and the necromancer wand from the earlier play.  He picked them up and found them to be harmless.  He quickly looked all around himself, swiftly returning his eyes to the two props in his hands.

"So there you are," said a voice.  He looked up.  It was the count's spokesman standing in front of him.  Behind towered the dark count, staring straight into his eyes.  "Did you enjoy your vacation?"
The fearful man fell back onto the ground, scooting away.  "No one who knows Lord Nobilious' name in this world escapes us.  You ought to know that."  He stood, turned, and bolted off toward the Great Lawn.  "It's time to come home," yelled the voice.

He thought he was well away and out of danger from the count.  But then, he found himself falling over, and rolling on the ground.  When he looked at his own body, he found he was no longer a man, but a dog.  He barked into the night and ran for his life out of Central Park.   

Lord of the Two Lands, Part 4

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Part 5

The conversation was difficult to hear.  A power couple approached the count and asked something.  But their question was difficult to make out.  A lone man spoke on behalf of the count, who stood tall, dark, and silent, his eyes staring onward, beyond everything around him.  But then, after the spokesman talked, the husband, an older man in a tuxedo with a grey mustache and blue eyes, raised his voice in a temper, and he was easier to hear.

"Ley lines and Freemason rituals.  All very fascinating," said the indignant man.  His face darkened into a red hue.  "But we didn't come here for a history lesson.  We've taken a risk bringing our friends out here like this.  These are not ordinary people."  As the man spoke, two of the count's security men tensed up, edged forward, and closed in just a little around the count.  "We have properties all over this city.  We own foundations.  We have dual citizenship.  You have a lot of powerful people here.  Now, if you're just some eccentric millionaire, then our business is through, and you will pay for wasting our time tonight.  But---"

"But if you're what we think you are," interrupted the tycoon's younger wife, "and you're the sorcerer we've all heard that you are, then it's time to build bridges and make alliances.  So, tell me.  Are you, by any chance Egyptian?  Is that why you brought us out here to this obelisk?"

The speaker smiled diplomatically and extended his hand out, as the count continued to stand silent, cold, and taller than everyone standing in the circle that surrounded the monument.  "My master has spent a great amount of time in Egypt and Mesopotamia, though also a lot of time spent throughout Europe as well."

"A citizen of the world," smiled the woman.  "So, what can you tell us about Egypt that we couldn't read out of a book?  Do you know something more than what's in that museum over there?"  She pointed east, towards the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

Her smile was the only one amid a grim collection of stony faces.  The rest of the group of moguls and their wives crowded in around the woman, their pupils dilated and their eyes staring straight, as though they were no longer themselves.  Together, in unison, the crowd chanted together, "Read it.  Read the stone."  And at this, her jaw dropped, her lower red lip quivering almost in fear, were it not for the thrilled look in her seductive young eyes. 

"Read here, my lady," said the count's delegate.  He bent over and pointed down to a plaque at the base of the obelisk.  "Read this right here.  Read loud enough for everyone to hear you."

She leaned over, and as she did, the eyes of the crowd returned to normal.  They all leaned in, watching her, curious to hear what she would say.  She read, a flirtatious smile returning to her lips: "The golden Horus, content with victory, who smiteth the rulers of the nations." 

"That is who my master is," said the count's spokesman.  "He 'smites the rulers of the nations,' as you can read here.  Look, now."  The count held in his hands the necromancer's wand and the magical cup from the play.  No one saw how he got them.  Perhaps the director gave them to him as a memento.  Whatever the case, in that moment, it was as though he pulled those props straight out of the air.  The count handed the glass over to his delegate, still saying not a single word, but now he looked down at the woman as his speaker continued: "My dear lady, 'you invert the covenants of Nature's trust, and harshly deal like an ill borrower with that you received on other terms!  Refreshment after toil, ease after pain, that have been tired all day without repast, and timely rest have wanted!  But, fair virgin, this will restore all soon!'"

He shuffled himself, there in the bushes.  It was about to happen, and there was nothing he could do about it.  If he jumped out to stop what happened next, either the guards of the tycoons, or the guards of the count would pin him to the ground, and they'd disappear him that night.  No police presence in the city could protect him from these dangerous people. 

The tycoon's wife smiled more, the freckle on her cheek making her look all-the-more younger and coy.  Her eyes widened, and she played along: "T'will not restore the truth and honesty that thou hast banished from thy tongue with lies!" She turned her eyes from the delegate to the count himself, who looked down upon her with his amused ebony countenance.  She continued: "What grim aspects are these?  These ugly-headed monsters  Mercy guard me!  Hence, with thy brewed enchantments, foul deceiver, hast though betrayed my credulous innocence?"

She addressed the count, but again, it was his delegate who returned with his poetry.  And as he did so, he held out the glass to the lady once more, offering it to her to drink.  "List, Lady!  Be not coy, and be not cozened!  Beauty is nature's coin!  It must not be hoarded, but must be current, and the good thereof consists in mutual and partaken bliss!"

She pushed the cup away from herself, her husband's eyes wide and his face flush as he watched the exchange with the count's spokesman.  "I had not thought to have unlocked my lips in this unhallowed air, but that this Juggler would think to charm my judgement!"

Once more, though, the servant held out the glass to the lady, but this time the count extended his hand a little in the direction of the cup and the lady, gesturing for her to accept the gift.  The spokesman said: "But this will cure all straight!  One sip of this will bathe the drooping spirits in delight beyond the bliss of dreams.  Be wise, and taste!"

A bright smile grew across her face, and the rest of the small upper crust crowd leaned in to watch, as she accepted the cup with both of her hands, drawing it slowly to her lips, but never taking her eyes off of the count.  Perhaps she's rewarding the count for acknowledging her, he wondered.  "I drink this cup for the powers I serve."  And then she drank. 

Swiftly, her eyes flashed wide.  She dropped the cup.  Gasping, she clutched at her chest.  Bending over, she went down, moaning, grabbing onto her head, swaying back and forth, until she finally went to the ground and she was on her knees.  Turning black, her hair went into her head, but fur came all over her face and all parts of her.  She couldn't speak---her mouth was changing its shape.  Her feminine moans grew higher in their pitch until she no longer sounded like a woman.  Then there was a black tail that came out of her dress, and her eyes turned yellow, until finally she looked like a humanoid cat, collapsed on the ground and dazed. 

Lord of the Two Lands, Part 3

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Part 5

He knew where they would likely go: The Obelisk.  It was the most fitting location for what was about to take place, and it was nearby.  If he could race across the grass and take short cuts, he might be able to stay caught up with the train of carriages.  So off he went.  Running past Turtle Pond and beyond the Great Lawn, he came to a line of benches underneath a tree.  Sitting and waiting around Central Park at night made him nervous, but being so close to the count made him even more nervous.

Damn blue bloods are going to get themselves killed, he thought.  He turned around where he sat and spied over a hundred feet behind him a set of stony stairs that led up a little hill.  A fiery torch blazed on each side of them.  Probably placed there earlier in anticipation for what would happen next, he thought.  Atop the hill stood a grove of trees, and above the treeline, The Obelisk shot into the sky, its ancient face standing defiant against the darkness.

He was in luck, too.  The carriages had just pulled up.  He was ahead of them, and he had a good spot.  But what would he do next?  What could he do?  First, the count stepped out of his carriage, and with his attendants, they slowly walked down the sidewalk.  After he was well away from his carriage, the other guests who wanted to visit with the count were allowed out of their carriages.  By the time they had all caught up with him and started visiting, he realized he couldn't hear any of them.  He'd have to get in closer.  It would be tricky, though.  There were attendants standing beside the horses of each carriage.

So, carefully he slipped from his seat and took a walk down the sidewalk.  But further away, when he thought he was out of sight, he circled back and hid behind trees and brush on the north side of the Obelisk.  He was quiet as he could be, but he couldn't help but wonder if any of the guards or attendants heard him.  Then, to his horror, the count and his guests moved to the north side of The Obelisk so that they were right in front of him.  Surely, he thought, he would be seen now.  He knelt down as quietly as he could, steadying his breath, moving slowly.

Lord of the Two Lands, Part 2

The Defeat of Comus, by Sir Edwin Henry Landseer

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Part 5

After the sun set west of Central Park, the play began.  The evening star was high in the sky, and the stage was well-lit by the lights of the Delacorte Theater.  Usually tickets to Shakespeare plays were free in the summertime, but tonight's event was special, and it was necessary to buy a ticket to attend.  The seats were completely full on this evening.  This obscure play was a very special event, probably arranged with a lot of money, and it attracted a lot of people who heard about it though word-of-mouth.

He sat in a seat in the upper eastern corner, and this allowed him to see beyond the stage to Belvedere Castle in the distance, the starlight twinkling in the surface of Turtle Pond.  Yet more importantly, he had a good view of the audience from his vantage point.  In the very front sat his target: a wealthy African count---or so everyone believed.  He was tall, bald, and all of his attention was focused on the act in front of him.  Surrounding the count sat a dozen servants.  They were men dressed in evening suits, keen and aware of everything around their master.  Outside of that group sat a small gathering of high society.  Many were older men in their suits with very young wives dressed in evening gowns.  No doubt, they were there for the count, and not the play.  Several of the women did not look at all comfortable with their surroundings, though he could tell that many of them tried to humor the count and enjoy the performance.  Outside of that core were what appeared to be professors, young academics, and other eccentric types intrigued by obscure, avant-garde trends.

The play was originally called A Maske, and it was specially made for the cultivated and erudite Bridgewater family, to be presented at Ludlow Castle on Michaelmas Night in 1634.  However the play eventually came to be known simply as Comus years later.  The operatic "Puritan masque" was written for a family that, at that time, had been struggling with scandals of despoiled innocence as well as possibly witchcraft.  And so, the script involved an innocent and chaste young girl trying to find her way through a forest after being separated by her brothers.  The darkness of the night seems impenetrable and ominous.  And then, she comes across the sorcerer, Comus.

According to the program, Comus was an impure reveler like his father, the god Bacchus, and he had taken up after his mother, the goddess Circe, who took pleasure in transforming men into half-animal creatures.  The performance centered around Comus' efforts to tempt the lost girl, that she would give in to his seductive charms.  With his necromancer's wand and a glass filled with magical potion, Comus urges the lady to drink from his cup and give in to his enchantments, that she may be transformed and join with the rest of his beastly quarry.

The count was entranced with the performance.  It could have been only him watching the show.  He noticed no one else around him.  Toward the end of the play, the girl's brothers entered the scene, threw down Comus's cup, and rescued their sister.  After an act of sea nymphs dancing to baroque music, there was a final eulogy by the lady's Attendant Spirit, and then the play had ended.  When the lights went out, and there was a brief pause, the count stood from his seat immediately and clapped loudly.  Shortly after followed his attendants, and then followed the nobility that surrounded him.  The cast came out onto the stage, and the count's attendants tossed up flowers to the actors as they graciously bowed to their benefactor who used his money and influence to make the play possible.  Many of the blue bloods were looking at the count, smiling with him and then turning to the actors to cheer them.

The performance over, the next part of the evening would be crucial.  He had to follow the count at a distance, but keep close enough to perhaps hear what was being said.  His life was in jeopardy.  If he were caught, the count would go beyond all natural law to make sure he was punished.  He had to stay calm and keep a clear head so he could take notes later.  So much hinged on what he would find out tonight.

The retinue followed the count, and several of the admirers tried talking to him.  But the count was always quiet.  He allowed his chief servants to speak for him.  This servant acknowledged the nobles, and with his white-gloved hands, he gestured for them to follow the count outside of the theater.

Keeping up with the count would be difficult without a car, but he had to try his best.  Carefully slipping through the crowd, he made his way outside to find the count and his train strolling out to West Drive.  There, parked in the street stood a train of horse-drawn carriages.  It was obvious to him they waited for the play's benefactor.  The count boarded his carriage with his few closest men.  No other person was there to visit with him.  The tall, dark man sat still and solitary, staring forward thoughtfully---as though he were looking beyond the world itself.  The remaining servants and some of the rich filled the rest of the carriages.  Then, they took off at a leisurely pace.

Lord of the Two Lands, Part 1

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Part 5

He was in a bar this time.  Never used to such surroundings, he'd been told such places were dens of iniquity and ill repute.  But after everything he'd seen and been through, he now knew the world wasn't as black and white as he once thought.  He nursed his beer for over half an hour.  He never liked beer until the last few years.  He grew an appreciation for the drink, though.  And he was able to distinguish between the different brands.  Ultimately, he was drinking because he figured beer was a social currency.  Others would see him with it and feel comfortable.  They'd let their guard down and relax.  He desperately needed someone to open up to him.

But how does a man open himself back up to the world once he was cut off from it?  If a man goes off to war, gets lost, and doesn't come home for years, how does he adjust?  Or if a child is locked up in a closet and kept locked away in an attic for a long time, but is suddenly let free, will he ever grow up to be a normal, successful man?  And what about a man thrown away in prison?  Prisons are nothing more than modern dungeons these days.  They were sometimes called penitentiary systems, but there was nothing penitential about them.  How impossible is it for Edmond Dantès to become the Count of Monte Cristo?

He couldn't lift his eyes above the bar he sat at.  He'd always caught himself looking down, lost in thought.  The murmur of the bar was a white noise he easily tuned out.  Nothing anyone talked about mattered to him.  He was estranged.  Alien.  He didn't belong there.  Someone put on some country music.  It was modern, self-aware, and obnoxious.  He hated it.  A woman who looked ten years older than him had been glancing at him, but he never met her eyes.  He didn't know what to do anymore.  The bartender tried cheering him up with one-liners and perky follow-ups.  All he could do is bring himself to smile for a few moments before sinking back down into himself.  This wasn't working.  A group came in behind him.  They were young bar hoppers, halfway stoned, and very loud.

He paid and left.  There was too much to do, and he was out of time.  It was foolish to try this.  There was no one he could open up to.  He'd reached a place in life where no one could help him.  He tried other avenues of opening up to people.  He went to an ice cream social at a nearby church.  He tried a coffee shop.  He tried playing some volleyball with another group of people who, apart from his presence in the game, wouldn't have anything to do with him.  He was a pariah.  He was too far gone.  He'd gone so far with it all, that there was no one left who could relate to what he'd been through.  He could try to get on the internet and meet people in that manner, sure.  The World Wide Web had come a long way since he first left the world.  People were now more interconnected than ever.  But it'd take time to learn the ins and outs of all the new social media and other new websites.  Besides, he was dealing with concrete problems in the real world, and there was too much danger of retreating into a safe, lazy existence of attention-seeking if he played with the Internet.  Not to mention the fact that everyone was piddling around on the Internet on their phones and tablets as it was, divorced from the reality that surged around them.

No, he had a mission tonight.  The play in the park would start at seven in the evening, and it would last beyond nightfall.  He had to be there.  The man he was tracking---if you could call him a man---was the main financier of this particular event.  This patron of the arts loved this special play.  It was to be a rare performance of John Milton's Comus, the story of a sorcerer who could transform people into animals after tricking them to drink from his magical cup.

Of course he'd set up something like this, he thought to himself.  And then he wondered how many high-brow rich people would disappear before dawn.

Beyond City Walls: What's Bovodar's Society Like?

What is it like beyond the walls of Commotu City, home of the great Wolf King?

Last time, I discussed the Wolf King in the world of Bovodar and the Bears.  But beyond the ruler, what is the realm like?  What is Bovodar's society like?

Bovodar's world would be, for us, a fantasy land.  There are people within it, but they are outnumbered by talking beasts.  The animals we take for granted in our own world do not merely trot along on all fours and eat from the fields or hunt each other.  Instead, the denizens of Bovodar's world are beasts who walk upright like men.  Sometimes they wear clothes.  They talk, engage in commerce, cook food, and even worship.

There is a social caste system.  For example, (though not mentioned in this book) rats are the lowest creatures.  Anything that small, in fact, is not regarded highly.  Foxes would be lesser than, say, bears.  Men are considered to be the highest among them all, though.  Even the Wolf King honors the place of men in the hierarchy of his citizens.  Many of the dull-minded creatures of Bovodar's world consider men to be magical beings, and it is in fact very rare for men to be seen, as the world is not filled with them.  There are not very many towns or cities that are ruled by only men.  Most cities and villages are ruled by the talking beasts.  In fact, Bovodar's family lives in a forest called Irv Forest.  There are a good batch of people living there, but mixed in are beasts of different kinds, from moles, beavers, and groundhogs, to a tribe of deer living on the forest's edge, and families of buffalo---poor folk---living north of that.

There are dragons in Bovodar's world (though not in this book), and they live in the older parts of the world, far in the East.  They contend that they are the highest, most supreme nation in the world, and they frequently challenge the Wolf King's legitimacy.  But because of the Wolf's power, they stay mostly relegated to the eastern deserts. 

The Ruler of Bovodar's World

What, exactly, is the world of Bovodar and the Bears?  Where is it?  How did it come to be?  Who lives in it?  What governs it?

The answer to the latter answers all of the other questions.

The world that Bovodar lives in is ruled by one being.  And in the book Bovodar and the Bears, he is known simply as the Wolf King.  However, he is more than just a simple king.  He does not merely rule over a nation or a realm.  In truth, the Wolf King is the emperor of the entire world.  He is no rude beast.  He is not simply a wolf.  He walks like a man, gestures like a man, and is just as smart as a man--even smarter, in fact.  More than that, the Wolf King has powers that cause many to think of him as a deity.

Though the primary form of the Wolf King has been that of a wolf, he has been known throughout the ages to take many other forms.  He is master over the East and the West, the Landed North and the Southern Sea.  He bestows gifts to whom he wishes, and he punishes those he sees fit.  He can lift mountains.  He can move rivers.  He can obliterate cities.  And finally, he can remake beasts to his liking.

Tales of his most glorious works take place in the ancient times, and many find it hard to believe such stories.  It was once said that he single-handedly drove back the entire Dragon Empire.  In another fable, it was said that he elevated himself to the highest height, ascending beyond the clouds and to the moon, where he built his grandest palace.  He is said to be as old as the world, that he can never die, and that he can even heal the injured or sick.

His palaces change from one age to another, but in Bovodar's time, his palace is north of Commotu City.  While many doubt the old stories, his presence in the world is quite real, as he is always governing and watching the world.  He is aware of all things that occur in his dominion, and it is under his rule that dwell both beast and men.