(Written In Stone.) (Chapter 54.) Two weeks and nothing. Not a knock at the door. Not a spy in sight. The group took turns patrolling the premises during the day and night. Buttercup gave Hercules frequent tours of Mala's countryside. Hercules knew that in the chaos of reality, peace of mind was priceless. Mala was a place where the imagination could have no limits. Creatures and humans had no right to inflict unrest in this place. Hercules reflected sadly. Mala's landscape was designed to promote physical and spiritual rest, balance and harmony. The atmosphere served as natural medicine for aligning all of the chakras. Mala was created with the intention of fostering peace. ***************************** Today they had crossed the stream barefooted. Buttercup's long, white dress hangs on to drops of water as she skips across the stones. Her curls bounced against her neck, her dark skin gleamed, and her brown eyes glowed with laughter. In jeans, a sleeveless shirt tha
(Trust Opens The Door.) They ate a light snack of cheese and crackers and washed it down with grape juice. Maverick and Bruce talked about Goblin Land by the window. Buttercup, who had prepared the snacks, was still in the kitchen, and Opal had gone to see if she required any assistance. Doug sat by the drawn bamboo shutters at his laptop downloading some pictures to his National Geography page, a half filled glass and a plate of crumbs joined his camera on the small table. Hercules had his earphone in his ears, sliding his fingers along the face of his smartphone, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Moonstruck had gone outside. She did so most nights since returning, and one assumed she wanted to be alone, to look across the river at her Village, which she could not visit. "Well, I think I will now take my leave and take these with me." Maverick stood and gathered the stone tablets in his hands. There were no objections. "Goodnight everyone. It has been a p
(It Takes Strength To Go Back.) In the eye of the storm, the Bloomfield mansion was peaceful. That evening everyone had already made preparations for what needed to be done. They moved around the house with the ease of trust. Her green hair cascaded down the sides of Buttercup's scarlet face as her wings glided smoothly down her back. Her pink eyes, which lacked a pupil, were expressionless, but the way she touched his hands occasionally and joked with Hercules told volumes. Hercules fetched things for her. Whatever she needed as she cooked dinner, he commanded. Salt shakers, vegetables cutting itself with a knife, everything moved with magic across the kitchen. Doug came into the kitchen for bottles of water from the refrigerator and scrambled out of the way of a knife that went just past his head. He looked up at the spoons, forks,pots and pans hovering in the room. "Goodness! It is a war zone of utensils in here!" Hercules chuckled while Doug proceeded to the r
(Establishing Alliances.) Moonstruck had just crossed the river when she heard the growling in the bushes. She paused and sniffed the air. She detected two scents. From behind the trees, one wolf leaped forward. "Don't come an inch closer!" Moonstruck received the command through telepathy. The wolf who had sent the message snapped it's teeth. Moonstruck began a determined, deliberate trot. The wolf pulled it's paws back in the earth and claws digging up dirt, it sprang at her. Anticipating the attack, Moonstruck grabbed the wolf by the hind leg and bit as deeply as she could without severing the limb. They rolled around biting and howling as she fought viciously but mercifully. She fought, not to kill but to survive, because these were still her people. Finally defeated and bleeding the wolf laid on the ground in a spam of pain and blood, but still alive. Before Moonstruck could catch her breath, another wolf had come out of nowhere and dug claws into her tail.
(Blood Trails) A thousand words, many conversations had and yet none received. As a result, unable to breach both worlds, Hercules and Buttercup's thoughts returned to themselves. He missed her. He thought. As he looked at the plane ticket on the bed booked for England. That was after-all, where the blood trail led. Himself, Opal, Bruce and Doug were already adjusting their minds to this new turn of events. Hercules took out a cigarette and walked out the room into the living room, then through the front door. He lit it and dragged at the tip without getting that sensation a smoke gave him. His mind went back to Buttercup. He never thought that there was a woman on earth he couldn't live without and yet, here he was with her running through his veins in replacement of his blood. It was early in the morning. So early he could still see the moon in the sky, it was not yet time to give rise to the sun, that was about three hours away. Everything was black, the tree
(Ode To England.) It was a three hours flight and the plane finally landed at Heathrow Airport. Bruce's magic had disguised any weapon they had on them as legitimate items and so they breezed through customs. Big Ben could be seen from all direction, its hands of time controlling Londoners' movements throughout the day. They walked around abit, stopped at a Delhi where they had muffin and an afternoon tea. Refreshed they endured the crowd of London City. The English were a proud nation and there was much to be proud about. The red, white and blue flags hang from the buildings around every corner. Tourists were everywhere on Tower Bridge, taking pictures and running their hands along the blue straps and railings as they made their way to Trafalgar Square. A soft drizzle of rain began. Umbrellas came out of their backpacks as they pasted the bronze lions, resting on hinds leg, watching over the pride of a powerful monarchy. *************************************** There w
(The Right Of Passage.) Lucinda wasn't seeing Moonstruck as an emerging woman. She wasn't seeing that face narrowed into the shape of a heart tailored down to Moonstruck's cleft chin. She was instead catching sight of the round, chubby, dirt streaked cheek of a child. Behind her father's baggy t-shirt, Lucinda refuse to see Buttercup's peaks of small, rounded breast; instead, she saw a flat chest, that she had scrubbed clean in a bathtub. That long, shiny brown hair was not what she was seeing; rather, it was the uneven, unskilled cut of a young hand that had gripped a pair of scissors by mistake. She wanted only to see her baby. Her baby who had no independent thought nor ambition but to do as Mother says. Moonstruck crossed her legs and sat on the veranda in front of Lucinda. Lucinda took a hairbrush and worked through Moonstruck's tangles. "I am sorry for hurting you." Lucinda whispered into her daughter's ear. "Are you really Mother?" Moonstruck massaged t
(The Manor.) Jatray has had enough of modern medicine. She drove down a back road that didn't get the pampering maintenance that the highways received. She eased up on the gas carefully, slowly swerving around many potholes. She passed a few other drivers who, like herself, would rather resist giving in to the allure of the highway's fast, smoothly paved lanes. On this often overlooked, often rejected road, where gullies descended into precipices of woodland, one could see Mother Nature had battled two moods here at the same time. One temperment was the disorganized chaos of anger and the other was the clean cut, orderly natural beauty of serenity. Mother Nature had stormed through on one side of the road and left bamboo trees, fractured and weary from her rampage, resting broken limbs on each other's shoulders. A few had become uprooted. They shamelessly turned their shaggy roots, massive anthill-like pile of dirt bottoms, up to passing motorist. On the other side