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Anabel and the Knight   Oh the Absurdity!

Started 5/5/18 by whitebutterfly54 (redbutter54); 31058 views.
In reply toRe: msg 30

He was one bloody knight indeed, with a black eye and bloody tooth.  There was blood oozing from a cut on his leg probably from dragging it over a jagged shell or shark’s tooth in the sand.  All in all, though, he was in good shape.  An exploration of the dense forest beyond the beach brought him face to face with an overgrown pond and crocodile bush, thankfully empty.  Exotic plants, like the carnivorous lily and venus hand trap were abundant.  So treading carefully was the word of the day.  In the clear crystal of twilight night sky, he could see the constellation celestial hunter.  Sometimes, by the heart of the moonlight, a wayward star, a celestial wanderer, would fascinate him and he would ponder the star’s journey.

For a brief moment, he vowed bloody revenge, but his faded soul knew the scales of justice were out of balance.  Anabel…..

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Anabel’s face had become even more delicate and much paler, resembling an ashen lily.  She wore an agony stone around her wrist, tied with the ribbon from the Knight’s gift.  The tied ribbon represented their binding fate and she rubbed the stone endlessly, hoping it would absorb all her pain but her chest still felt home to a stone heart.  Her guardian was keeping ever close supervision over her for fear she had made a death pack pining over the Iron Knight.  But no amount of chastening power from the elder could lessen her despair.  Every day she would write him, kiss his name (her seal of prayer), summon the messenger, beg him to use mail wings and fly her entreaties of love to his home.  Why was there no accurate sign of him?  She flung open the seal of the guardian on the chest that still held the gift he sent her and listened to the sound of the sea.  She read an old venetian saga of a hero who, lost during a lunar eclipse, was suddenly shown the way home when a single drop of the sun’s tear collided with a star beam and created the star of renovation.  To her, it was a baton of swiftness for his return, and the mental wings of her mind worked feverishly to get him to see it.

heartheartheartheartheart

In reply toRe: msg 31

The Iron Knight realized his visits to Arabella weren’t in vain, he recognized the poisonous desert stinger and, in particular, the female of the species who had a potent poisonous stinger that was most certainly a death bearer.  He also recognized a basilisk’s scale from the king of snakes, a mighty serpent, who had a killing glare and poisonous breath.  And, thanks to the witch, he could avoid one poisonous flower after another.

After about the fourth day, he came upon an abandoned expedition camp.  Not much was left except tattered remnants of a tent, an old ship’s lantern with no fuel and what looked like a stone well.  The well was nothing more than a stone bowl into which was carved an amber pattern with a stone gargoyle holding a stone flower.  Certainly no bowl of secret power, it was bone dry. There was a sunken chest that had been used to catch food from the sea, but all that remained was a holey fishing net.  A hunting trap could be salvaged using the riveted disk from the closure on his bag and a vine hanging nearby.  He placed the trap near a thicket of early leaves, hoping the tender morsels would attract some much needed meat.  He used his blade to cut tropical palm fronds, some he used for bedding; one tied to the outside to catch rainwater, his first source of fresh water.  A discarded coconut was used as a master flask, his very own flask of miracles.

In reply toRe: msg 32

During the night a soft rain fell, filling his master flask.  He heard what sounded like a sea howl and a chain of fear made its way up his spine.  He thought he saw something; a raven’s eye, hyena eye or wolf scowl?  Finally, exhaustion won out and he fell into a fitful sleep.  When he awoke, he found a wild boar, a spirit animal, caught in his trap.  Finally, he would have meat to eat and the taste of prey was indeed welcome.  It was the natural selection of life and he felt an instant energy boost.  With water and protein, his mind experienced a capsule of rationality.  Once the skin of wild boar was dried out, it would be a very warm covering.  As a winner’s reward, he tied the boar’s fang with some reeds and wore it as an amulet of challenge.  In the stone light of the day, he found a hyena’s chain with a hyena’s craft on the end, affirming the eye he had seen during the night.

His flask filled with fresh rainwater and his bag filled with boar meat, he set out to find a way off the island.  By noon, the sun resembled a magma sphere and he desperately needed shade.  The natural harmony in the nature sounds represented a symbol of balance of the nature spirit that enveloped his bleak shard of soul.  Just then, something tall in the distance, beaming like star shine, caught his eye.  Finally he got close enough to recognize the structure as a lighthouse.

In reply toRe: msg 33

The entry door had a bas-relief overhead containing a mystic symbol.  The room had some kind of illuminating device, a living crystal giving off a misty radiance that gave an eerie night shadow glow to the room.  It pulsated with eternal movement and resembled an ever awake eye watching over everything.  To his right was the lighthouse keeper’s desk and right in front the telescope, whose shining lens had long since turned milky.

Just as he reached for the manipulator to adjust the telescope, he felt a pin prick in his neck and darkness overcame him.  A deadly swish dart had found its target.  A glimpse through a murky eye from the fog running in his head yielded a punishing hand wielding a bone whip.  They reached a statue in the thicket, next to an overgrown column, and his captor, who he presumed to be a thicket guard, or thicket keeper, locked him in a rusty cage.  There was a bird bowl and bird scales…was this a bird cage?  A huge binding egg had been tossed in the corner.  There appeared to be the remains of three prisoners scattered about the cage and the Knight could make out one other caged skeleton and one skeleton in shackles.  This was his memento mori moment, when he wondered about the eternity flow of life and death, when a word of darkness or word of despair was all that ruled him.

In reply toRe: msg 34

It grew unbearably hot; each bead of sweat fell like a lava drop.  Night was shivering cold and he had a winter dream where a winter idol, an ice monster with an ice beak, was pecking at him until his frozen body burst into a million pinpoints of light, like a star ribbon.

His sleepless captivity was torture and he was sure some faceless observer lurked about in the darkness.  The guard neared the cage; he had one big eye and one dwarf eye and carried a berserk’s ax and a sinister staff topped with a predator head.  Ancient thread of lore spoke of a twilight guide, a nocturnal blood seeker, a warlock.  Was he about to become a symbol of sacrifice for some warlock’s ritual

In reply toRe: msg 35

He saw a stranger’s badge, an executioner’s badge, unmistakable in its symbol of doom.  He heard the loud blast of a minotaur’s horn (bereft of the actual minotaur) and saw the mighty fang and pack teeth of the twilight sabre-toothed tiger, the rage of the forest.  Perhaps this would be a quick death.  Silently, he pulled his leader’s blade from behind his boar skin cape, and with a bear’s fury, knowing it was his last hope, grabbed the living chest of the night mare before him.  This bloodthirsty idol was the recipient of all his rage essence, a prism of retribution through which he vented every injustice from the time he first met Magus.  The last strike was his fibula of rage stomping on the seal of ancient evil on the dwarf’s head.  With that drop of force representing the Knight’s final stamp of justice, he released the guard.  No longer bound for the sacrificial stone, he had just given himself a warlock pass and he would take this bloody secret to his grave.  Almost instantly, the volume of fury assuaged.

After the Knight's cold fury had been spent, he saw a movement of life within the egg.  Cautiously, he used his knife to cut the bindings and watched in awe as the most beautiful bird was born.  It was huge, and its feathers swirled like a golden storm around the cage.  As the bird grew, its size became too much for the confines of the cage, and it broke free.  The mythical phoenix, an idol of rebirth, was standing before him.  The bird was waiting for him.  He carefully climbed each carved scale of the leg and then nimbly traversed the shaft of each feather until he was finally on top.  Then the phoenix flight began.

In reply toRe: msg 36

They soared on a wind of freedom through the forest and out to a mountain root chain, resembling the magnificent idol for rock master, the thunderbird.  At the center of the mountain heart, the phoenix, belying its size, gently perched on the sacred branch of the mighty oak storm tree.  The Knight slid down and took in his surroundings.  He stumbled upon a stone sarcophagus, its broken scarab seal tossed to one side.  On the edge of a fire altar there appeared to be a tomb of some sort badly in need of repair with a jumble of tomb bricks clustered nearby.  Further on was a statue of an apocalypse rider on an infernal horseHolly berries made a home in a huge statue crack, giving it the illusion of a long, bloody gash.  His attention was so fixated on a great iron gate with three dragons adorning the top of a giant metro gates wheel that he didn’t see the gate guard.

In reply toRe: msg 37

Not nearly as menacing as what he faced in the forest, the guard escorted him through the gate and stopped outside the warden’s hut.   The guard slightly resembled the inventor Mechanogle.  Inside was the warden’s office, a guard swinging a prison baton, an empty prison cell, and an interrogation room.  There was a statue of a bear with armor next to the cell.

A blast from an aurochs’ horn brought the guards to attention.  One opened the door and an ageless warrior strutted in replete with a light of asgard helmet and lily shield with a winged amulet.  There was no visible weapon.  He introduced himself as the leader of the gnomes and was thankful for the return of their icon, the phoenix.  Suddenly, the Knight thought of the griffin amulet the priest had given him and without knowing why, showed it to the gnome warrior leader.  Everyone began excitedly talking and the leader gestured for the Knight to follow him.

In reply toRe: msg 38

Outside they rounded the corner by a gnome road sign, in language he didn’t understand, and entered a warm, homey gnome kitchen, obviously the heart of the gnome’s soul.   There was so much activity going on and he finally allowed himself to relax.  The warmth of the kitchen felt good and the food, although not at all what he was used to, was filling.  There were light sprouts, fish wing stew with mushrooms (what he called the fungus among us) and drink from a barrel with an oak sign emblazoned on it.  There was not a drop of thirst left when he was done.  There was no reply to his question about the mandrake root.  No insomnia horn sounded in his head this night, sleep came easily.

The gnome leader woke the Knight the next day and began a recitation from Tablets of Wisdom, which were akin to a holy book.  Once the readings were over, the gnome led the Knight to a door with a gnome emblem on it.  Even though the room was only lit by a small expedition lamp, the gnome walked straight to a secret slab faced with stone chaps in raised relief.  The slab gave way to reveal a gnome safe.  The avid core lock of the safe had a steel jaw and the gnome leader pulled a steel canine key from his pocket and opened the safe.  Then the gnome leader held up the most precious thing in the world to the Knight, the mandrake root

In reply toRe: msg 39

The gnome leader then took the Knight on a tour.  They came upon a reconstruction site where a destruction sign hung alongside a tower of winds sign.  Further on was a power mill.  As they walked inside a door with a large power symbol he was encouraged to wear protection glasses.  The head gnome, also wearing ocular protection, was leaning over an alchemic converter with a huge alchemic seal; again, in a language he didn’t understand.  A reconciliation rod ran straight up through the roof and the entire room hummed with inner energy, like a steel hive.  The heart of this mystery chamber would forever perplex the Knight. 

The head gnome walked over to a trade machine with a spinning pyramid of numbers symbol and returned with a bronze sphere.  The sphere was placed in the machine; a mysterious cube, called a cube of fortune, invisibly held in place by clamps of wisdom, began pulsating.  Even though there was no watch sign or time keeper, time flow appeared to slow.  The leader explained that an alchemic infusion had begun where the bronze sphere was turned into liquid gold, known as the elixir of immortality, and when drunk from a precious cup, promised everlasting life.  All of this was based on sound theory provided by the artifact of infinity the gnomes had found. 

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