The Outsider:

The Outsider:

A Story From the Nine Houses Universe

By Michael J Pennington

 

He stepped into the light. It had been years since he had seen the sun. This world that he once lived in was now painful to him. This mattered little to him. Blinding sun and the inability to breathe through his nose were trade-offs for the constant cold and the smell of wet death of the underground.  He would breathe through his mouth and squint his eyes until he adjusted to this environment again.

    He took his bearings and then began walking. His course was carefully plotted to avoid all settlements and as many roads as possible. Secrecy was his product and his quality was utmost. He would travel a thousand miles before stopping again. Twelve days passed water and food were found on the way.  He did not need sleep, at least not in the way he once did. It took energy to stave off sleep and fatigue. He would have to replenish that energy before his next task.

    He made camp. It was at the edge of a high waterfall overlooking an ancient mountain lake. He meditated for a time. Night had fallen and the Gluon the night moon was high in the sky it’s pale reflection shown on the water it was close to full. If you looked closely you could just make out the edge of Graviton the hidden moon. Gluon constant companion. It was a small moon of irregular shape like a black rock that can’t be seen except on nights the night moon was full. Graviton was the smallest of the five moons Gluon was the biggest. The other three were Photon and the Boson twins Doubleu and Zee. Doubleu and Zee were the farthest away and passed through the sky once every few days they were known as the twin moons because they seemed to dance around each other as they passed through the sky. Photon was the quickest moon not much bigger than the twins and passed through the sky twice a day. These were the human names of course. The elf names are Lunogs, Tigavrons, Tsoonph, Zons & Wobs.

   It was Graviton that caught his imagination. He was the youngest of the five children and the only half mortal amongst them. Vitasrag the only got to not have children and the first of the gods one day became infatuated with an elven woman. He disguised himself as a man and they begot Graviton. Graviton was born with dark skin darker than obsidian. The elves who cherished their golden skin could not believe it. Despite being the son of a god he was rejected by the elves. Because they rejected Vitasrang banished the elves from the sea and told them never to return. Vitasrang asked Gluon to look after Graviton as he wandered the world.

Graviton found his place amongst the unintended race of men. As outsiders themselves the humans accepted him with little trouble. Although humans were a race of many colors many tribes many of the humans shared the same skin color as Graviton. The humans began to revere him as the demigod powers made him without equal.

Some of the elves saw humans as an abomination and sought to destroy them to gain favor with the gods again. After many battles, humans lead by Graviton finally defeated the Elves in a long a bloody conflict. His long life allowed him to rule justly over the humans for long years and he fathered many children. It was his children that defeated the cursed races and founded the empire. Graviton himself faded from the world there is no clear record of his death. He now lives outside of mortal existence.

   The Outsider shook off those thoughts. He returned to his meditation.  Photon was passing through the sky to signal the approach of the morning it wouldn’t be seen again till close to nightfall. He didn’t need the whole night but he waited for the sun to come up. He removed his pack and took out the troll head that was inside. Trolls were one of the cursed races, and as such didn’t do well in direct sunlight. As the son hit the troll’s head it’s somber face became frozen in stone. He was the leader of the trolls, the outsider was commissioned to kill him. There was a tenuous pact between humans and trolls. Humans longed for the gold under the mountains the trolls made a home. Humans outnumbered the trolls and could easily overpower them above ground, but it was quite different under the rock of the mountains. So a pact was stuck, humans would stay away from the mountains of the trolls if the trolls brought the gold and other precious ores as a tribute.

   Did this troll oppose this pact? Did he plan to break it? Nothing so noble. He was invited to dinner with Emperor. He dared to insult the wife of a wealthy baron. The Barron paid the price and the troll died in an “accident.” This was so the trolls would not suspect human involvement and maintain the pact. The outsider even ensured that his replacement was also supportive of the arrangement.

Creating the accident and retrieving the head where before it was burned in the funeral fire were no easy feats but it was ensuring the troll selected the right leader for the job was the most difficult. It was a test of strength and the outsider’s influence could not be seen. Spears broke at the right moment, shields shattered, minor but costly slips happened, and one particularly powerful troll died of a heart attack in mid-swing of his mighty sword. To the other trolls it was seen as destiny, to the outsider it was part of the job.

He put the troll head back in his bag and carefully hid the bag amongst the rocks. He looked down at the lake below. Mountain the trolls lived in was thought to be an abandoned Dwarf-mine. Perhaps once this was true, but there was a difference in architecture only a few knew this secret, human scholars who caught a glimpse of the city under the mountain a whisper among the scholarly that was more legend than truth. It was the lost city of shadow, Yestmiropolious. The outsider was a dealer in secrets, but his skills paled in comparison to the builders of that ancient city. It took him three years of searching to find the entrance of the great library. From there it took five more years to translate the shadow elf language. The baron who hired him pilfered the only copy of a blood elf spellbook. The blood elf language was also dead but the blood elves didn’t try to hide their words in a labyrinth of symbols and unnecessary words.

He translated the blood elf language first, it’s easy if you know the ancient high elf language,  then he compared sentence structure and used a trial and error system until he began to think like the shadow elves themselves. It took him two years to solve the great riddle of the shadow elves the secret to finding their temple to Yestmira. Patron of secrets. That lead him here.

   He stepped to the cliff’s edge overlooking the lake. He dove off. He plunged into the crystal clear waters of the lake and dove into the deep water below. His lungs strained against him begging for air, but he had to keep going. Deeper and deeper into the shadows he swam. Until the last shreds of light faded and everything was as dark as he was. His eyes adjusted there was light but a very faint one it came from ahead.

   As he was swimming he became aware that he wasn’t swimming alone something was following him. He paid no attention to it, he would deal with if he had too. The creature took his inaction as a sign of weakness the massive monster realized a tentacle at him like a harpoon. He managed to dodge but only just the water slowed him down considerably. He was at a disadvantage. He chose to run instead of attack, his lungs were hurting badly he could feel a tingling in the tips of his fingers. He didn’t have the time nor the will for a prolonged battle. Another tentacle shot at him like a lightning bolt it missed two. The monster apparently abandoned the stealth approach. Its body lit up with a thousand lights of every color of the rainbow.

The outsider had seen a lot of things in this world but nothing so wondrous as this. Its body was a massive shell-like structure like a lobster or a shrimp. The harpoon-like tentacles came from two massive claws that it wielded with deadly precision. It had leg-like tentacles that hung from its body but it was a massive tail that propelled it. The creature would have been beautiful to behold if it were not so deadly.

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It’s two massive eyes seemed to hone in on him although he did his best to evade the monsters attacks its massive claw smashed into him. Bubbles erupted around him from the sheer speed of the blow. He saw stars as he reeled from the blow, it had been so massive he smashed into the rocky lake bed below. The only fortunate thing was he was near the source of the light he sought. He scrambled towards the light clawing and struggling for air, he actually feared for his life! This was no ordinary monster. He struggled into the cave a short way in was an air pocket. He almost made it to the pocket but he felt the monster’s tentacle around his waist. The monster began to pull on him and he began to slide back out of the cave but he managed to grab onto the rock wall. With the monster pulling against him with all its strength and blacking out from the lack of air, it was all he could do to drag himself to the air pocket.

As his head finally burst above the water he exhaled the molten hot air that had been burning his lungs. And drew in a sweet gulp of breathable air. He couldn’t expand his lungs all the way through. The tentacle restricted his lungs. He lost his concentration and he was pulled back under and out of the cave by the monster. He felt the creatures elephant sized claw clamp onto him with crushing force. The monster began to bring him close to its beak-like mouth. It seemed smaller claws were positioned near the mouth to help with feeding.

The outsider was done with this he called upon his great strength and began to force the creature’s claw open. He released himself from its grip and confronted the monster ready to fight. The creatures other claw hurled at him with the same deadly force as before. This time he was ready for it. He took the brunt of the blow by crossing his arms to block it. The bubbles erupted around him with the force of great explosions just as before. When it ended he saw the monsters claw retreating slowly. It was fast hit but slow to wind up it seemed. The outsider took advantage of this. He interlaced his fingers and took a mighty swing at the claw. As his fist collided the same bubbles erupted from his blow. The shell of the claw began to crack, the monster gave a shrill cry and began to pull the claw away in response. He did not let up he followed the claw smashing into the claw making the crack bigger and bigger until with a final intense blow he destroyed the claw. With shrill cry’s of pain the monster was defeated it swam away in a panic. It’s glowing lights turned off, and it emitted a black inky cloud to cover its retreat.

The outsider made it back to the cave now he could see with some amazement the Shadow elf temple. Amazement because no matter how hard it was for The outsider to make it here it was still impossible for an elf. When Vitasrang banished the Elf from the sea he made it so a terrible curse would befall any elf who dared return to the water. The shadow elves were indeed the masters of secrets.

He entered through the ornate doors into the temple chamber beyond. He began to study the walls to figure out if he could define great secret of the shadow elves people the secret of shadow. He was only there for a moment when a voice called to him. “I did not expect to see you here child.”

“I thought you were busy propping up an imposter on the throne.” Said the outsider.

“We could use your help.” Said Yestmira. “Your support could…”

“No! I will not support a lie!” Said the outsider.

“Then perhaps I could help you.” Said Yestmira, and he took his eyes off what he was studying for the first time. Yestmira was a Patron a herald of the god and master over secrets and shadows. Despite her hiding in the shadows, she was loyal to the gods. She had chosen the form of a young shadow elf woman. Strong and beautiful.

“No thanks.” Said the Outsider. “I’ve been burned by the gods and their favors before.”

“Would owing me a favor really be so bad given the circumstances?” Said Yestmira. “Afterall no one wants things to go back to the way they were.”

“Do you really think I want things to go back to the way they were. Why would I help you do that?”

“It’s better than the alternative.” Said Yestmira. She waved her hand over the wall and many mechanisms began unlocking. A panel opened and inside was a black book bound in leather with shadow elf marking all over it. Another wave of her hand and the word returned to regular elven. “This is what you are looking for.” She said picking up the book and handing to the outsider.

“What do you want?” He asked.

“No tricks, no strings nothing like that.” Said Yestmira. “We know what you’re trying to do and we hope you succeed. You need this, it’s yours.” With that, she vanished. No strings attached? That was a bold claim for a woman who regularly wore the visage of a spider and operated from the shadows.

Still without her help who knows how long he would have spent in the temple solving her riddles. He read the book of shadow skill and finally, he understood. In just a few days he mastered the techniques it to shadow elf masters years to understand. He imagined the shadow elf secret to be many things but nothing like what he found. No hint or whisper ever suggested they could become as shadows themselves. This was why they were the best spies and assassins. They could hide anywhere.

With his newfound knowledge making it back to the surface was easy. The elves never touched the water. They traveled in the shadows under the lake bed safe from the curse they would have barred should they tried to swim through it. He retrieved his things and made his way to his last stop on this trip. The home of the Baron who hired him. He ascertained the barons whereabouts and followed him until he was alone. The Baron had made it to his garden to sit in front of his wife’s grave. He found the petrified head of his troll enemy sitting on the grave. The Baron gasped in surprise.  “It’s you!” He cried.

The outsider appeared behind him. “It’s me.”

“Looking for a job well done?” Asked the Baron. “You can forget it! It’s been ten years! I could have killed him myself in that amount of time.”

“Yes, but then you’d be at war with the trolls.” Said the outsider. “And your land would suffer the most for it.”

“You know what the worst of it is?” Said the Baron. “We made up he and I. Sort of. He saved my life about five years ago.”

“I know I saw it happen.” Said the outsider.

“After that, I felt guilty knowing what I did. That you were still out there. I kind of hoped you had died or given up or something…”

“No such luck.” Said the outsider.

“I guess I knew that deep down.”Said the Baron. “So why did it take so long?”

“It took time to collect my payment.” Said the outsider handing back the red elf spellbook.

“I hope it was worth it.” Said the Baron. “I got into a lot of trouble when I told them I lost this book.”

“I doubt you suffered grievously.” Said the outsider.

“I got banned from the Imperial Library!” Said the Baron.  

“Like I said.” With that, the outsider took his leave. The outsider didn’t care about the baron’s quest for vengeance. He knew in time that his rage at the trolls slight would dull over time, but by killing their leader and creating a power vacuum, the outsider got to see who amongst the trolls was against the pact with men. He eliminated many of those trolls and insured that the empire’s interest had been looked after. Those who knew the outsider thought him a simple assassin. Few realized he had been its silent protector from the beginning. A role he was going to leave soon. He couldn’t leave the empire unguarded.

With the book of shadow skill, he could train in secret an organization that could do the job for him. A shadow society who could protect the empire from the shadows and remain unseen. This had been his goal all along. He trained his new agents for ten years and when they were ready he disappeared not to be seen again for a very long time.

 

END

Anti-Nuclear deterrent: muti-EMP attack.

An Expert form Plage: The making of a Horsman
By Michael J Pennington.

Anti-Nuclear deterrent: muti-EMP attack.

The worst thing about a nuclear bomb is not the big hole it leaves behind. No big holes in cities and military targets are quite desirable. No, it’s the mess nuclear weapons leave behind. Clouds of radiation that can move to your territory, dust in the atmosphere that leads to nuclear winter. Most unpleasant.

The worst effect is it blocks the resources ones enemies are in the way of. Because let’s face it wars are always about resources. Even so-called holy wars are really a battle for human resources. Nuclear weapons are a waste of resources period. Often they are more an impediment to the allocation of resources that any installed government or military. Can a radioactive crater be reasoned with? I think not.

Fortunately, we have much better methods of clearing out an entrenched populous. Unfortunately, our enemies are still clinging to their archaic nuclear arsenals. Which makes them a threat to us.

While there are many proposed solutions. Concussive force fields. The stabilization of the nuclear material. I have a much simpler solution. EMP or Electromagnetic Pulse. I know perhaps it would be better to take on an advanced war AI with an Atri 2600 but hear me out. Perhaps a simple solution to a simple problem. Or rather an archaic solution to an archaic Problem.

These days EMP is a toothless tiger everything has the solution. The military has EMP shielding and civilian installations have EMP shielding. Cell phones have EMP shielding, hell, even toothbrushes have EMP shielding. EMP is little more than an old bogeyman that nobody is afraid of anymore.

Naturally, nuclear weapons have EMP shielding, but what if the enemies shield became our weapon? While there are different methods of shielding most incorporate some kind of Faraday cage. This is simple enough a metal structure that absorbs the pulse and converts it into a harmless electrical charge that can be bleed off.

Now imagine if we can use this feature to our advantage. What if we could use the cage to create a sympathetic secondary pulse one that would be right next to the sensitive electronics the cage is guarding.

What we do is we send multiple EMP pulses at a high frequency this will cause a residence inside the cage itself. An electrical charge will build up faster than can be drained off and an arch will be formed with the nearest ground source thus creating your secondary EMP pulse.

I’m in the process of designing a directed EMP weapon that will be able to fire multiple EMPs at high frequency, contact me if you would like schematics and let me know if you are interested in buying…

My impossible game design.

So I have this crazy idea to mix two very different game genres. Like open world RPG and top-down dungeon crawler. Specifically, I want a mix of Skyrim and Diablo 3.

I know it sounds weird but the goal is to create an open world RPG with long-term replayability and a rewards system.

This may seem redundant, many people continue to play open world RPGs for years, but this is often sporadic and boredom based. This is about giving players a reason to keep playing. Instead of just having something to do while waiting for other titles to come out.

Now the challenge is in blending the creativity of an open world with the more structured approach of a TDDC.

My initial thoughts on this are a two-stage gameplay system. One where you tweak your build and get them how you like, and a challenge mode where we try to match as many play styles as possible.

These are my initial thoughts I’ll put more down when I have time.

Fight and flight.

A song by Michael J. Pennington.

Ruff draft.

Verse: My name is rage! Seething and festering I boil up from the depth of your pain. Like a rabid beast, I pounce on your brain. A flood of red a sea of crimson and your mine to control. It’s your body, your face, your hand clutching that knife, but it’s my sin.

Oh my god! What did I do? I can’t recall. It’s all a blur just flashes. I don’t want to believe… But why is there blood on my hands? Ho god, why is there blood on my hands?

Chorus: There is only one thing I know for sure. That control is the worlds greatest lie. You think you have it but it only takes one fragile moment to show you how wrong you are.

Verse: My name is Panic! A cold icy chill runs up your spine. A white-cold bolt strikes your brain and you become little more than a frightened animal. Pray to flee before the fear that hunts you.

I know what this looks like! Please, I can explain! Why won’t my legs stop running? I want to stop but I can’t… Please god, don’t let him shoot me! Please don’t let him shoot!

Chorus: Ten thousand years of evolution are no match for raw instinct. Move over higher brain functions the amygdala got here first!

My name is death! You can’t defy the odds you can only survive them. If you survive them. As your life drains away through the hole in your chest. Blackness sucks you under. Small bits of you are eaten away as you are slowly deleted.

Oh god! I didn’t want this… I didn’t want any of this… I… I… Wasn’t in control… I’m not responsible. Don’t let this be the end. Please god, don’t let this be the end!

Is beleif easy?

A wise man once said:

Impress me not by the depths of your faith, but rather by the breadth of your tolerance.

That, someone, was me. Michael J. Pennington, I’m quoting myself. Like the smug narcissistic weirdo, I am. o.O

Cue Alan Rickman / Marvin the paranoid robot voice: “Of course, I have to quote me. Nobody else is going to do it… It’s not like anyone listens to what I have to say. They probably don’t know I’ve said anything at all. Brain the size of a planet, and still, no one listens…”

Okay, I’m done channeling Douglas Adams. Let’s get to brass tacks, why I’m sharing this idea with you now.  I came up with this idea years ago and yet have not found a very good place to slip it into my writing, and I wanted to discuss it. So I’ve introduced the idea in the weirdest way possible. Because of raisins. (No really! Sentient raisins are making me do this.)

BTW: If for some reason Plato or Socrates somehow beat me to the punch on this. (Because they always do! Those philosophical bastards!) Just know I’m just exploring an Idea I’ve been brewing on for a while. (Mine!) I’d be happy to see other philosophical takes on it. (Keep your dirty mitts off it!) Feel free to link other sources (Don’t!) in the comments. (I will cut you… Or maybe just say mean things behind your back. Eyeballs, Peace, Pointy finger.)

Belief. I like to define terms in my writings.  Not so much to change the meaning of words but so my readers and I might have a shared lexicon of ideas. It is not so good if I am talking about spoons and the readers think I’m badmouthing forks. So when I talk about ‘belief’ I’m not talking about religion. Rather I’m discussing belief as the acceptance of something to be true beyond all other arguments or facts.

Contrary to belief is ‘deduction,’ the determination of truth through the study and observation of facts and arguments.

Lots of people confuse the two. Thinking that they are deducing the truth when they are in fact simply rationalizing what they want to believe. Truth itself is subjective. Most people think because their truth fits the facts that it is the only possible answer. Facts aren’t subjective that is true, they are just bits of information about the world around us. the meaning we attach to facts is what we call truth.

We are philosophical as a species, without knowing it we seek to find meaning in everything even the most basic facts. These truths we dig for are the basis of our lives. They give us meaning they give us purpose, they give us hope.

Ah, but look at me. I’m rambling again. You know it’s very freeing to be unknown on the internet. Much like a madman in a cave I can scream whatever I want into the blackness and get only silence in return. If anything I fear discovery. People knowing my name and valuing my opinion. What a horrible curse to have to bend to the demands of the social presser. To mind your tongue least you unsettle the delicate workings of the machine we call society and be punished.

Today I must scream into the blackness a most terrible truth.

Belief is easy.

I imagine those who should stumble upon this hidden corner of the internet, and baffle through my ramblings to this point should be of two minds. Some are wondering what took me so long to come to this very obvious conclusion. Others are might find the need to explain to me the error of my thinking in a calm dignified manner.

But I am not saying that belief is the realm of the simple-minded. I am not saying it is a tool of the uneducated or lazy. I’m not saying it’s the manifestation of a dullards intellect. I’m saying it because I think that it is mathematically necessary.

I sense a great disturbance in the force as if two’s of people who at first agreed with me are now typing their own dignified replies.

Here is the thing, life is about survival, survival is all about taking risks. Eventually, as a species, colony, or individual, you’ll run into a situation where the chances of survival are low.  For lower functioning creatures I imagine the program to be simple. Seek survival obtain survival repeat. But for higher functioning creatures, ones who might be able to reason out the risks of the situation it’s not so simple. Knowing your odds of survival are low in any situation, might give cause you not to try.  This is where belief comes in, belief is the little motivator that could. Knowing the odds but believing that you can beat them makes you try. BTW you don’t really beat odds or defy them, you can only ever survive them.

Now belief doesn’t always result in positive feedback, but the negative feedback often means death and that information is not passed on.

Organisms that take risks are survivors, believers are risk takers, hence the mathematical predisposition towards belief. Theoretically speaking anyway.

This is an appeal to mathematics argument. Similar to an appeal to nature argument. This argument states that regardless of the morality or intelligence certain behaviors are mathematically preferable when it comes to survival, and even the most intelligent of beings with full control of their faculties may not be immune to said behaviors or the thought processes that they will use to justify them.

So what of the other side of the idiom? Tolerance? I believe that it too has its own mathematical argument. I speak of tolerance as the ability to recognize the differences of others and to respect their independence no matter how alien their behaviors.  Conversely, intolerance is fear of the different.

From a survival standpoint, similar things are good. They offer little danger except for competition for resources, but more often than not resources are plentiful enough. So that’s only a small problem. Different things are often bad, in addition to competing for resources, they can also pose a more direct threat to survival such as hunting us for food.

But here is where things get complicated. Different can often be good. Sometimes different can provide new resources such as food or protection. The different enrich the world around us, and through their unique perspective, all life grows.

These things are true of intelligent life as well as the ability to compare and contrast is a basic survival function. Since similar things pose less danger and different things pose slightly more there is a mathematical bias towards intolerance.

In short, Tolerance is hard.

Wich one plays out is usually up to avalible resources. Lots of resources skew towards tolerance, and a shortage of resources skews towards intolerance. This is, of course, a multifaceted subject and I’ve probably bored you enough with it. Moreover, it’s mostly a theory by a madman, and I don’t put much stock in the theories of crazy people.

What I am trying to say is that of the two faith and tolerance, I find the latter much more impressive. A river that is deep is thought of to be impressive and compared to a stream it is but is it not a river natural predominance to cut deeply into the earth? As the modules of water scrape away the rock and the dirt at the spots where naturally more of them are concentrated? Maybe not, I’m not an expert in the development of rivers.

I just know that depth is often a judge of how impressive a river is, but so too is breadth. Breadth is a measurement of how wide a river is, and I would think that being wide is a far less common feature in Rivers. Often underestimated. Wich holds more water? The deep river or the wide river? What if they hold the same amount of water?

Maybe the deep river is more powerful, but perhaps the wide river covers more ground and touches more lives.

I’m sure some of the greatest rivers are deep and wide, but the most dangerous rivers are most certainly deep and narrow.

Let’s drop the metaphor for a moment. Faith is not impressive on its own, assholes have faith, madmen have faith, serial killers have faith, genocidal madmen have faith.

Sure they may not be saying god, but they have faith in something, even if they don’t admit it to themselves. Even if you got your truth from hard-fought reason, there was likely a crossover a point where you no longer question your truth and accepted it as fact so you could explore greater mysteries elsewhere.  Sure you might reopen that book if new evidence arises, but you are not actively questioning it. It would be maddening reevaluating every truth all the time every day.

I digress, my point is what good is knowing your truth, if you don’t embrace the diversity of other truths? No, not all of them deserve it, but keeping an open mind is mathematically sensible.

A rare quiet.

The world around me has gone still the many voices that pull me in all directions and distract me are temporarily silenced.

Normally that would be the cue for my other problem to show its face. But for now it is calm and I’m awake.

I’m awake and in a mood to write. So what shall I write? I know I have a mountain of uncompleted projects, but it is hard to get into long term projects when your workflow is compromised. I can’t think long term if it may be days or weeks before I get the chance to write again.

It is precisely this reason I’ve been working of the cuff. Drawn to what ever muse has caught my eye. If I never know when I will write next I chose to live in the moment and savor the sweet nectar of creativity. To draw inspiration from the moment.

In this moment I find myself in the woods the mountains of colorado. It is dark and it is still outside. The trees around me still have a sense of dampness from the earlier rain.

My mind tingles with possibilities. A horror story perhaps? The woods are murky and mysterious and one doesn’t need to try hard to imagine a unseen horror lurking within.

Perhaps it was just passing by when it noticed the faint light of my phone. Now it is stalking me. Slinking though the shadows just beyond my sight. I can’t see it but I know it’s there.

It knows I sense it, we both sit in anticipation of the coming moment when claws flash and my light is snuffed out. My plus quickens, its mouth waters. Closer it creeps, closer, there it’s behind me. I know it is but I dare not look… Any moment now. I hold my breath as if it will be the last, for it surly must be. Any moment claws. Any moment pain. Any moment death…

That would be fun. But the night is too calming and awe inspiring for that. Though dark has a sense of wonder to it. A magic. Just beyond the trees elves a crowning a new queen. A mother bigfoot plays with he son.

An adventure awaits, and I will be the one to have it. By nights end I shall have slain the giant, had tea with the dragon and saved a village of Horfpleddles from a most terrible fate…

Maybe there is no magic or danger. Just some nightlife going about their business. And a writer with an over active imagination inspired by the quiet majesty of the colorado mountains.

😉

The Lighthouse.

You are the brave captain of a swift and noble vessel, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t admire your strength.

But the winds have changed and the clouds are blowing in. Before you know it you are caught in the deluge.

Your vessel is tossed like flotsam in the roaring waves, you’ve been here before but every time is like the first time.

Sail on ‘o wayward captain, the hardest part is knowing I can’t help you in your time of need. Though my light is bright it cannot cut through the black clouds around you.

I have no way to help you, this fight is yours alone. I have no idea if you can hear me, but I stay up all night saying “I love you” into my radio.

Wave after wave crash upon you. Spewing doubt and self-hate. There is no way for you to fight it. You have to endure it till it’s done. There is no mind over the problem when your mind is the problem.

Though I am sitting right next to you, you are very far away. My words of hope and encouragement can’t cross the void.

Hold on tight tie yourself to the mast. You will survive this like so many times before. I may not be there in your private hell, but I will see you through this storm.

When the storm finally breaks my light will guide you home. We have been through a lot today but my love remains as strong as ever.

I can not imagine your struggle but I know it must be hard. I admire your courage and strength if your long fight, and I strive to be as brave as you in my own battles. I’m a better person for having known you.

Sometimes courage is just surviving. Sometimes love is helpless to help. Sometimes all there is is just holding on till its over, and being there when its done.