[Epic Poem] Part 7: Thor Fisticuffs

[Epic Poem] Part 6: The Magic of Earl Gray

Peter, fortified with a ham sandwich searches

Armed with a sturdy wooden stick Peter marches

No black knight shall keep Peter from his Lady Love
Lamb and sheep follow, they don’t really give a shove

About his heroic quest, but there’s a demon
Following in their footsteps, so they don’t leave him.

The demon closes in. Peter brandishes his stick,
Demon says, “Hey, chill out. Relax! Don’t be a Dick!”

Peter says with fury, “What have you done with Mary?”
Demon brandishes claws, and screams, “Hate Rate Trait Mate. Savvy?”
This demon is incoherent and scary. Peter must flee.

Just then, a dazzling light and three people appear
A woman, a bearded Nord and a leg clinger

“Fear not, brave Peter Peterson, ” the Nord proclaims
Ha ha! I was born to slay demons,” he acclaims,

“I shall smite him with Mjol…I mean… My bare fists”
He pounces on the demon, epic pugilist

His punch makes the demon creature disintegrate

(While the leg clinger fop does obfuscate)

“Thanks, I guess I did need some help,” mutters Peter
shame faced says, “and how do you know my name, kind Sir?”

Thor shrugs, “(no thanks necessary) Smiting HateRateTrait was just what I needed

A pick-me-up! And I knew your great great great grandfather

He and I shared many quests. He’s one mortal I heeded

You have his same noble nose, warts and all… As well as his rank odour.”

A dark winged mass emerges from the demon’s ashes, a black bird.
It speaks, “yeah, yeah, yeah… All very touching, you pieces of runny guanno,
But you idjits born of idjits could have gone easier on the punches you know?!!!”

Peter brandishes stick, as Thor raises fist. “Shapeshifter!”, they shout together.

[Epic Poem] Part 8: The Flipping Bird

[Epic Poem] Part 6: The Magic of Earl Gray

[Epic Poem] Part 5: The Reluctant Viscount

Thor channels magic and sighs, still sleepy and weak.
“Oh if only I hadn’t lost my Mjolnir.
Anna tut tuts and says, “you may not be at your peak
But I know just the thing. Please have a cuppa tea.”

Thor drinks the magical Earl Gray, and then goes (to) pee
“All better,” he smiles, “it’s time for portal magic.”
“No,” says James, but too late… They’re drowned in an aether sea
“Muffin brat boy,” Thor says, “stop being so tragic.”
He says to a squealing James attached to his knee

The magic has made Thor feel very lethargic
He’s transported them a thousand miles in space-time
A Peter battling a demon now seems cathartic
Is Thor hallucinating, or in that tea too much lime?

[Epic Poem] Part 7: Thor Fisticuffs

[Epic Poem] Part 5: The Reluctant Viscount

[Epic Poem] Part 4: Thor Hungry!

The demigod’s face oozes concern as he turns
“Gentle Lady, fear not. I do mean you no harm.”
Anna smiles and nods though her visage still crimson
“Truly,” Thor says, proffering her his big strong arm

But then he pauses, closing his eyes. “An alarm
I can hear, a shrill screaming of the Universe
The fabric is sundered near Old McDonald’s farm
Come, you two, you have been chosen as heroes! Yes?”

“No,” James politely demurs, “I’ve got duties here.
Tenants, and family, stock futures, Gretna Green
You see? I cannot go anywhere with you, Sir!
I have a sizable stake in South Sea Trading.
“Quiet brat!” Thor says, as lightning wraps around him
“No!”
“Grilled rodent on a stick! Like it or not, we go!”

[Epic Poem] Part 6: The Magic of Earl Gray

[Epic Poem] Part 4: Thor Hungry!

[Epic Poem] Part 3: A Medium and a Cravate

Thor sighs. He then sits on the table cross-legged

He lights a pipe, cursing a reluctant match stick

James grows bold, ” wonder from what gutter you were dredged?

You’re clearly not bon ton, your hair is much too slick

Thor or More, begone whoever you are, crude brute!

No hat, no jacket, no shirt, not one how-de-do

Soar away, before my dueling pistol shoots truth

Vile interloper of a private session, you!“

Thor grins, “A duel with a pup? Sheesh kebab lunch.”

James grows red faced. He says,“I’ll drown you in the Thames!“

“Pepper roasted turkey with apple cider punch.”

“Vulgar gourmand! My saber shall cut off your gems.”

“Fried chicken with cinnamon buns? A snack or brunch?”

“Vile cannibal! Take your crude mouth away! away!

Your vulgar discourse is making the lady faint.“

[Epic Poem] Part 5: The Reluctant Viscount

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 1:The Story of Tammuz and Ishtar

In those days, in those distant days,

Before all things necessary were manifest

In those nights, in those remote nights,

When the veil had just been drawn between sky and earth

In those years, in those happy years,

When An had taken the high heavens for himself

…

When Enki had slain the dragon of the Underworld

And Ereshkigal had been given dominion of Kur

When fearsome Abzu still held dominion on the earth

Before the temples of the Mother baked their first bread

Before mankind first tasted the fermented grape

…

There lived two brothers, the first of the younger gods

Earthborn: Dumu the Shepherd and Midu the Builder

[Short Story] The Shepherd and the Goddess Part 2: Pastoral vs Agrarian

Image: A modern illustration depicting Inanna-Ishtar’s descent into the Underworld taken from Lewis Spence’s Myths and Legends of Babylonia and Assyria (1916)

My Editing Process: The Autumn Arc (Draft 1) Day 1

The moon dreamt…

Thomas lay on the sofa, visions of ice and death cascading before his mind’s eye, coalescing and dissociating to the tempo of his randomized playlist. Beethoven and Debussy had brought images of soft blue ice and barren landscape, Holst had ushered in rains of fire, Dvorak had seen the last remnants of humanity struggling for survival under a sunless sky, and Chopin had brought a ray of sunshine. The AVR then began blasting the guttural roars of Amon Amarth, the sound of marauding heavy metal vikings breaking Thomas out of his stupor.

It took a while for his mind to get used to the world outside the dream– to the dew coalescing on his window that blurred his view of the Golden Gate Bridge, to the soft light of dawn, to the smell of coffee that was permeating his little studio apartment, to his stomach that was growling to be fed– it took a while to fully wake up.

What was wrong with him, he wondered as he poured himself another cup of coffee and placed two slices of bread in the toaster. Why were his dreams becoming so damn weird? Were they just dreams, or was the apocalypse really coming? The humming birds, that usually came around this time of year, were missing. The sun looked bigger than it should have, and paler somehow. The clouds looked weird– like dragons flying through the sky.

There was a knock at his door, a sharp rat-a-tat-tat. He’d have known that knock anywhere.

“John,” he smiled, as he opened the door, “glad you came. I need a ride.”

“Oh, just buy a BART card already, you cheap bastard,” his brother grinned. He was dressed for a meeting, looking sharp in a suit that was creased in all the correct places. He’d even put on a lapel, which meant he was hoping to bag some baby boomer big wigs today.

“BART card? You’d stop visiting me if you thought I didn’t need a drop every now and then. Could I borrow a twenty? I’m a little short today.”

John shook his head, “Neither a borrower nor a lender be. I don’t want to dull the edge of your husbandry.”

“My husbandry?” Thomas asked, feigning shock. John’s presence always made Thomas cheer up. Maybe John would be able to help with the weird dreams, but Thomas was reticent about sharing the experience. It was scary, and made him sound like a mad man.

“What’s up, little buddy?” asked John, sensing the change in his mood.

“What if you knew that the world was going to end? That meteors were going to fall from the sky, the sky was going to be so thick with clouds that they wouldn’t let in the sunlight, and stuff like that. All our money would be pretty darn useless then, wouldn’t it? All our jobs and infrastructure wouldn’t mean a thing. Civilization would be in complete collapse. What would people like you or me do in a world like that, a financial analyst and a history major?”

“Well,” John closed his eyes in thought, wincing as Thomas chomped on his burnt toast, “we’d be dead meat if that was all we were. Humans adapt, don’t they? Tell you what, once you’re done with this semester let’s take a vacation to Canada and muck around in the wilderness and learn some survival skills. That would cheer us both up, eh?”

“Eh,” Thomas agreed.

A humming bird flew past his window.
******************

A/N: I thought I’d put this up just to give you kind ladies and gentlemen an idea of what this would look like after one round of editing. The novels I write usually go through this process around three or four times before I’m satisfied. Here’s what it looked like in the Outline I’ve been posting on this blog:

The moon god dreamt…

Thomas knew there’d be trouble as soon as he heard the medley reach its climax. It was too perfect, too smooth. Oh, what had he done? One did not fuse Beethoven, Debussy, Gustav Holst, Dvorak and Chopin into a single entity. The transition from Moonlight Sonata to Claire De Lune had been fine, but then when his playlist had started on Mars the Bringer of War, into the third movement of the New World Symphony and culminating with the Funeral March, Tom knew that it could mean only one thing… the end of the world as he knew it. Visions of the future, cold and lifeless, filled his thoughts, moonlight shining white and bright only on a few scattered corners of the world. He felt like flinging his speakers to the ground and destroying them with a baseball bat. Did he even have a baseball bat?

No, a hammer would have to do, but what was the point in even trying? The damage was already done. Wrecking his speakers wouldn’t change a damn thing. The universe had already heard the song. Instead, he put on some Amon Amarth and tried to think, his mind flying to new heights on the eddies of the guttural growls of 21^st century vikings. There was comfort in this sound, melody within cacophony, method within madness, honour won and glory earned in a barbaric and murderous world, virtuoso solos within distorted power chords. This was what the Fifth Symphony sounded like in hell. Amon Amarth helped him see things with new perspective. Tom had broken the world and he had no idea how to fix it.

Perhaps it was time he took up ice fishing.

[AA 2.1] Day 43: Dreaming with Ayahuasca

Previously

The moon dreamt of Thomas
Rain pitter-pattered on the pedestrians of the Tenderloin, the homeless taking shelter under ragged pieces of cardboard that they had scavenged from the garbage bins of San Francisco, as the sun fell below the horizon. Thomas shuddered as he heard the sounds of Bach coming from Eduardo’s little house.
“You really must get over your fear of classical music,” Eduardo chuckled as he ushered Thomas in through the door.

“I know, but…”
“But nothing,” Eduardo said, a rare seriousness rising in his tone. “You hear the moon. Your visions are pure, but your mind corrupts them. When you thought you’d destroyed the world by listening to your playlist, it was because you had subconsciously remembered the mind of the moon, and interpreted it in your own fashion,” Eduardo gestured for Thomas to sit on the carpet, while he stirred a bowl of Ayahuasca. “Misinterpreting your dreams could have serious consequences for us all.”

“I don’t think I can keep coming here like this,” Thomas told the shaman. “My attendance at uni is beginning to take a dive. I might not get a degree if…”
“Degree,” Eduardo pffed. “You say this world is coming to an end and then you talk about degrees. The matter of sorting out your visions is more important. Attend your university classes if you must, but don’t miss coming here on a full moon night.”

Thomas nodded, pinched his nose and then drank the draught handed to him. His vision flickered, each blink of his eyes infusing everything around him with more and more colour… until it all faded to moonlight.

[AA2] Night 43: Trivia meets Thomas

[7 Souls Flashback] THE END 12. A Na Gore Mak (Poppy on the Mountain or the Great White Elephant)

Previously

Every man, woman, and child worked hard, ignoring fatigue and sorrow in their haste to leave the sinking continent… the only home they had ever known. The spirits of nature did their best to help their human patrons, trees, lakes, mountains and nature spirits exhausting the lasts of their reserves of energy to flee the only home they had ever known. Beyond the oceans lay mystery and ice, savages babbling in unfathomable tongues, and spirits that were incomprehensible.
Agasthya had taken charge of the migration effort. “We’ll use Mari’s flying mountain to transport the most frail people and the more fragile goods. Its wings are strong,” he had told the people. “As for the rest, we’ll leash my tamed dinosaurs to the mountain, and ride them across the ocean.”
The Elders were busy creating a tree that would contain a template of all physical and spiritual living beings. The flora and fauna of the Young Continent would be born anew from the Tree of Life and find a new home once the foreign lands had been tamed.
Makk and Aystrana helped with loading the dinosaurs with cargo.
“More poppy juice,” Makk begged Aystrana as they loaded the last dinosaur. Aystrana hesitated. Makk looked at her through large beseeching eyes, “Kara’s madness is consuming me. The curse is too strong for me to handle on my own.” Aystrana gave in.

The convoy soon began its long journey, Mari’s mountain flying in the sky ahead, strong ropes pulling a train of thousands of dinosaurs behind.

“I can’t leave this land,” Makk said, as they stood on a dead mountain, watching the convoy enter the ocean. “The madness is growing stronger every day. You must kill me and leave this place.”

Aystrana shuddered as she looked at the obsidian dagger in Makk’s hand, slapping it away, “How could I do such a thing?”

“If you don’t I’ll end up becoming like Kara, and we’ll go through this whole thing again. I cannot let myself commit such atrocity.”

“The poppy juice will keep it at bay. I’ll sing to you until you forget about madness, every moment of the day if I must,” Aystrana cried. “I can’t lose you. Not now.”
“You must!” Makk said through gritted teeth. “You cannot let my corruption spread. You are the only one I can ask to do this.” Makk grabbed Aystrana’s hand and embraced her, kissing her on the lips for the first time in their lives. Blood dripped down Aystrana’s lips as they ended the kiss. The dagger had pierced Makk’s heart. On that dead mountain, under the constellation Capricorn, Makk died.

“Why did you kill him?” Trivia asked Venus. “Why did you act on his whim? The curse of Kara was neutered within his soul, And so it would have never taken its toll. Why did you believe him?”

Venus turned her head so that none could see her face, “I was a naive young fool, and my world had nearly come undone. Can you blame me? Continue his song.”
“I cannot sing this any longer, the complexities of his soul grow much louder

Cacophonous almost, But I can hear one constant refrain from him in a key much lower.”
“What is the refrain?” asked Mars.
A repetitive pattern in all his incarnations

Venus in them all, what in tarnation

She finds him, loves him and then kills him

Venus eternally cursed, love and madness in each limb

Athena, Artemis and Aphrodite, her three phases

The horror and sorrow of her tragedy amazes

Even me who has heard it all!
“Enough,” cried Venus, but Trivia ignored her.

“Amon, Osiris, Ashur, you killed,” Trivia sang.
“I never killed Osiris,” Venus’ hair blazed with fire.
“He seems to think you did.
Tammuz, Ningirsu, Mahabali

Adonis, Orpheus, Pan

Were just some of the names of this man.

Would the story had changed if you had known

What you were doing, reaping the fruit of madness and sorrow that you had sown

When you stupidly murdered Makk.”

“Enough,” shouted Venus, her entire being ablaze with deadly fire, “The elephant rider is under my protection. If anyone touches him they will answer to me.” Venus then retreated to her throne.
“She has a lot to think about today,” sighed Soma.

The Man with Seven Souls gazed at the strange beings watching him. Did they perhaps want to share in his meal? All the dragon meat was over. They should have asked him for some sooner. Something about that glowing woman seemed familiar. Where had he seen her before? The Man with Seven Souls shrugged, and continued on his hunt, his elephant trumpeting in time to his song.
THE END

© whenmarsmetsaturn.wordpress.com (2018)
A/N: 1. This is the song he was singing, performed here by the Polish folk band Ochelie Soroki

A Na Gore Mak

The story of the Man with Seven Souls (in his modern day incarnation) will continue in the Second Part of the Autumn Arc (coming soon).

[7Souls Flashback] 11. Atlantis Sinks

Previously

Makk dispersed his cloud and sat cross-legged on the ground, his head spinning as he gazed stupidly at the devastation all around him. All the Sky Chariots had crashed to the ground, the dirt and blood stained people gazing in horror at the land, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to even cry. The gale still blew, the earth still quaked and magma still spurted out of the ground. The birds and animals were going mad, screeching in terror.

“The two new planets,” Master Samsa screamed, pointing at the sky, “They’re still getting closer.”

Makk wept. His sacrifice had achieved nothing. They were all still going to die. And he could hear Ani whimpering in his head. Agasthya, with Aystrana in tow, arrived moments later, flying so fast that they left a wake in the sky.

“Makka, don’t just sit there. Wake up and say something,” Agasthya said with concern, slapping his cheeks while Aystrana cleaned and rubbed ointment on Makk’s wounds.
“I’m okay,” Makk said, getting to his feet with some help from his wife. She hadn’t said a word to him all this time. “What’s the matter?” he asked her.

She shook her head, unable to put it into words, but he understood her though. There was a tinge of guilt in her bright eyes, almost tiny in comparison to the overwhelming horror and sadness, but he could see it nonetheless. She was always the one with good sense who made the necessary and responsible decisions, but this time she’d been frozen with fear.
“It was my decision to act alone,” Makk said. “There was no reason for anyone else to share in this curse. If I had only acted sooner, Ani could have… But in the end it made no difference anyway.”

“Oh but it did,” a six winged seraph appeared before them, its light and heat curing the people of their injuries.
“You’re late,” Agasthya spat at the seraph, levitating so that he was face to face with the creature. “Look around you. Everything’s ruined. Look up? The entire sky is coming undone.”
“Do not worry about that,” the seraph said. “The Song brought me here. I am to tell you that the throne of Kara will soon be occupied again. Order will be restored to this Star System soon when the newly chosen sits upon the Sun throne.”

“The Song brought you here?” Agasthya chuckled. “What song? I can’t hear a thing.”

“You can’t hear the song of the All Creator any longer?” the seraph asked, his light changing hues in surprise.
Makk strained his mind to listen to the Song, but Agasthya was right. He could no longer hear it… he could only hear Ani sobbing.

“Well,” said Agasthya, “if the All Creator is singing then it must be one stinky, deranged song. Look around you, you stupid creature. If this was part of the song then I’m better off not listening to it.”

“You’re speaking in grief. Once your anger subsides you will understand,” the seraph said, unfazed by Agasthya’s menacing fist, and took off into the red sky.
“Obnoxious creatures,” Agasthya harrumphed, and turned to Master Samsa. “Well, if those rogue planets are all taken care of, then I suppose we must start worrying about how to deal with that fact that our land is sinking into the ocean. The energies of the earth and sky are swirling in unmanageable eddies and our technology has ceased to function. I think we’re going to have to find a new land to settle in. I have a few ideas about how we could manage that.”

A/N: I’ve only hinted at it so far, but Ani and Makk were both parts of Mn’s soul. Ani was one of the rejects at the Test.

[7Souls Flashback] 10. The Storm God is Born

Previously

Ash, burning ember, earth, and sludge drizzled around Agasthya, Makk, Aystrana and the corpse of Ani. They watched in shock from within Agasthya’s invisible shield, as the land around them, and the sky above them went mad.

“Why isn’t Samsa doing something?” Makk asked through gritted teeth. He couldn’t feel sadness for the death of his brother, not while the entire world was disintegrating… but he could feel anger for the murder of his brother, while the entire world was disintegrating. “He should kill Kara before he destroys us all.”
“What can he do?” Aystrana asked, while she wiped away the dirt and blood from Ani’s lifeless corpse. “What can any of us do?”

“But we can’t just accept our deaths like this!” Makk growled, almost like a feral animal.

Agasthya stared at the scene through sad and red drooping eyes, “Nobody wants to take on the curse that will befall the one who murders the Patriarch. Perhaps we can do something? I do not mind being curse if it will save all my friends.”
Makk shook his head, “Not you. You can’t do it, but I can. Fill my cloud with your energy. Let us create the worst thunderstorm this world has ever witnessed.”

Aystrana watched on helplessly as black clouds began to coalesce around Makk’s body. Agasthya hummed as he imbued the cloud with invisible currents, imbuing Makk’s cloud with innumerable fluctuations so quick and tiny that they danced together in a spiral of blue that whirled through the cloud. Makk’s body began to disintegrate, becoming one with the cloud, and Agasthya’s energy transformed into a spear of light.

“Where do I aim this?” the Makk cloud rumbled.
“At the back of his skull,” Agasthya answered, “all the way through to the bridge of his nose. You will only get one strike. Don’t miss.”

Agasthya filled the edges of the Makk cloud with a different pattern of vibration, this one imbuing him with potential speed. Makk roared, and harnessed the South Wind. Makk roared again, and harnessed the North Wind. Makk roared a third time, and harnessed the East Wind. Makk roared a fourth time and harnessed the West Wind. Makk crackled, and harnessed the Wind Above. Makk bellowed, and harnessed the Wind Below. The ground below him cracked open, the hill disintegrating into dust. The skies above him vanished, leaving behind a starless void. All things around him shifted phase, becoming lifeless as they approached Absolute Zero. Time stopped, and Makk flew. He moved at a speed that was above zero, in a timeless space. He moved at a speed approaching infinity, when the stars began to dance once more. Kara’s head exploded as Makk released all of Agasthya’s energy into the giant’s skull. Kara’s blood gushed out like a river, forming into dragons and strange chimeras that had been conceived from the giant’s hatred and madness. The monsters that spawned from Kara’s blood fled to the sea, shrieking in their fear to get away from the dreadful Makk storm.
“It is done,” Makk said, exhausted, triumphant, sad, his body soaked in Kara’s blood, bone, flesh, his soul drenched in Kara’s anger and madness.

Soul quotient: 2/7