Category: Legends

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Expanding Order

Once we have the nuns we can decide

The Plutonian Council shifted and shuffled nervously. It was the first time the council had met with the High Reverence herself, Amnarnun of Makemake, and her Sisters of the Dissolved Order.

The Order, clouded in mystery, as much if not more so than as anything else on the small crimson world, had decided decades ago to branch out more, and create greater ties with the other communities of the thousands of worlds that exist within the ‘Barrierlands’  (or Kuiper belt as it is known on Earth) and eventually try to reach out to the residents of Earth.

Pluto’s great Council had met delegates before from Makemake, but none as high profile and awesomely revered as the Frocked One.

She stood at the central lectern, hands gently clasped in front and head slightly bowed. plutoCen Kr’Dorir, dwarfed beside her, wasn’t sure if she was looking toward him, down upon him, or in prayer.

“Nun Child” she said, with all the grace one would imagine one with her stature to have.

“Ah, my humblest of apologies, Oh heavenly mistress…” grovelled plutoCen Kr’Dorir, “I’d forgotten about your ability of telepatheticness.”

The Plutonian Council coughed nervously, one member at the back audibly groaning.

“Eh?” The Frocked One looked momentarily confused, then blended effortlessly back into her calm demeanour. “No, plutoCen, I was asking for Nun Child to approach. Here she is now.”

Nun Child, Amnarnun’s niece, was in every way as serene as her aunt. She wore the Makemakean blue frock of life, which contrasted to Amnarnun’s black frock for everything. They both gently rustled as they moved, but apart from this gentle sound they moved otherwise silently and with ease, almost as if they were gliding across the floor.

plutoCen Kr’Dorir shook Nun Child’s hand, and said, as pleasantly as he could manage “A pleasure to meet you, as well as your mother.”

The Council breathed in audibly, with some physically cringing. plutoCen Kr’Dorir noticed and quickly attempted to correct his latest gaffe “and our mother, and everyone’s mother of the Barrierlands, the High Reverence herself.” He thought he’d pulled it off, and realised he still had a hold of Nun Child’s hand. Firmly. With a smile, he swiftly let go, and let out an extremely loud ‘harrrumph’ as he pretended to clear his throat. Nun Child looked at him with crystal clear blue eyes, and gently spoke.

“We today bring you gifts, friends and allies of Pluto. Gifts made from the imagined tears from the blessed angels; the ethereal strings from the harmonic harps; and the dreams and hopes of our people that we would like to share with you.

“We also come with an invitation for you to join our Serene Order, dissolved as it is, yet expanding into the vast Solar System.

“We bring a calming influence to fill your void of chaos and hypertension, and hope you will accept our heartfelt offer.”

“One moment please, your ladyness…” plutoCen Kr’Dorir marched over to the plutoCen Deputy panel, where the three High Leaders sat in whispered conference.

The Council looked on uneasily.

Amnarnun and Nun Child looked towards each other, waiting patiently for the reply.

They didn’t need to wait too long. plutoCen Kr’Dorir returned to the lectern, and said “It’s like this, your references. We aren’t really a serene race. We’re more of a rough sort, not quite barbaric but not very politically correct. Rough around the edges if you like. We don’t have many ‘orders’ or anything like that here on Pluto, but we are always open to change. All we can say now is once we have the nuns we can decide whether to join your order. We’ll be in touch. Keep your pathetic lines open. Telepathetic lines. Keep them open. And we’ll let you know.”

Amnarnun and Nun Child both graciously accepted plutoCen Kr’Dorir’s hand once more, graciously bowed, and graciously made their effortless way out of the Council Chamber.

Amnarnun gently tapped Nun Child’s arm as they reached the door. Sometimes you can not reason with barbarians, she thought. But we’ve planted the seed.

Agreed, Aunt. Nun Child replied.

A slight smile crept across both of their faces as the cold iron doors slammed shut behind them.


This post has been written in response to a flash fiction challenge by Diane Henders.

Some of the characters in this otherworldly tale first appeared in this post.

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Wordle: Past Magic

The mists of time swirl and clear
And we find ourselves in a long-gone year
At a point in time where stories began
Origins of legends that have for centuries ran
As rain lashes and chilled winds howl
Wild animals circle that were born to prowl
Kept from the cave by thin rings of fire
Their tenacity to wait something to admire
Within the safety of the cavern walls
The clan folk wait for their spirits’ call
Faces and limbs painted in coloured ash
Finely dressed with cloak and sash
Expectation high as joy radiates
And tribal words sung as they celebrate
Then lightning flashes and everything stops
Rainbow accompanies the final raindrops
The sky turns yellow and bright and clear
The observers know the time is near
The elder steps forth and holds aloft
A wand with which he gently wafts
Tradition was that the wand be snapped
So the elder does exactly that
He then stands eyes closed hands cupped
And magical flames from his hands erupt
Igniting once more those rings of fire
How else could they stay lit with weather so dire?
Thunder rumbles overhead
Those tenacious beasts long since fled
But from the sky a white dove lands
As each of the clan folk understand
That this is is the sign they’ve been waiting for
Their spirit has returned once more
And once more they sing and dance and cheer
And believe in goodness for the rest of the year
For us though it is the time to leave
As time’s mists once more swirl and weave
And gently carry us back through time
And bring an end to this lengthy rhyme

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Mead and Mortals

Lightning flashed and made her look up. The doors to the inn, a mere second later, swung inwards simultaneously and the room was instantly filled with a strong-odoured wind.

“By the gods!” the woman muttered, but stayed where she was, propped.

Zeus walked into the inn, followed by his consort Hera.

“Wench!” He bellowed, “A tankard of your finest mead!”

The woman stayed where she was,  elbows on the bar with her chin resting upon her ample and severely uplifted bosom.

“Zeus!” Hera admonished. “You must not speak like that, in such a derogatory way, towards women. How dare you. Apologise. Now!” She glared at Zeus with such strength he felt a hole beginning to bore into his head.

“It’s…” The woman tried to speak, but Zeus held aloft his hand and interrupted her.

“Woman!” He bellowed once again, toward Hera this time. “How dare YOU! Do you not know to whom you speak? I am Zeus, knower of everything!” His voice echoed around the room. Hera sheepishly looked away for a second.

“I’m…” The woman tried to speak again, but Hera stopped her this time.

“Patience, child. I have a matter with this ‘gentleman’ which must be settled first. He thinks he’s the ruler of the gods! The fool”.

“…” The woman tried to speak for a third time, and both stopped her by holding aloft their hands.

“I AM the ruler of the gods, Hera. And the waves. And the fire. And the nymphs. AND the wenches.” Zeus looked at the woman at the bar, who was propped but agog.

“ZEUS! Remember your place. You are upon the Earth now, and it is these mortals who think they rule the domain. You must respect that, and their ways, whilst you are here. Now, I shall get the drinks.”

Hera looked over at the woman who was literally on the bar. She noticed the woman hadn’t changed position since they’d walked in, which was a strange thing for a mortal to do in the presence of any god. Zeus tried to speak, but Hera simply held up her hand and stopped him. “Are you alright, child?” Hera asked with compassion. “Tell me, what is your name.”

“It’s Wenshetta. Wench for short.”

Hera glanced over to Zeus who was silently whistling into the air. He said nothing.

“Ah. Erm, your stance, child. Are you hurt?”

“No,” Wench replied, “but the mead cupboard toppled over behind the bar and has me trapped here. I’ve been waiting all day for someone to walk in. I’m bursting for the loo, and all this mead everywhere isn’t helping.”

“So you have NO mead?” Zeus boomed.

“ZEUS!” Hera was livid.

It didn’t take them long to help Wench out of her predicament and as a thank you, after a lengthy wait whilst Wench saw to her natural needs, they all sat at the inn’s only table by the roaring log fire, with a tankard of the inn’s finest mead each.

“Nectar to the gods!” Zeus beamed, once finished.

“And no charge” Wench said. “as a thank you”

“CHARGE!!!” Zeus returned to booming once again.

“ZEUS!” Hera now boomed. She looked towards Wench. “Thank you child, we shall now depart for we have a long journey ahead. Or one of us does, should the other not make it.” She glared at Zeus once again.

Wench watched them walk out of the door.

“She was going to charge us. ME! Ruler of the gods. Does she know not to whom she served?”

“Zeus!”

The doors closed behind them, and they were gone.

“By the gods!” Wench muttered, once again. “Some people!”

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Wordle: Knights and Dragons

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Row after row of hollow armour
Split in places and locked behind glass and key in others
Knights no longer in court to hear the constant thrum from the fight
No longer decked in their finery
Lethal battles with dragons long finished
Bodies stripped, survivors given a stay of execution at the time
If they were lucky
But all now ghosts
Echoes from time
Captured
In tales passed down through the centuries
Yet also still ‘alive’, trapped within
Row after row of hollow armour

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The Superhero Diaries 4.1: Withdrawal Times Two

The Elite Force of Britain: a group of superheroes who joined together to solve one town’s problems, and decided to stick together for the greater good. One of the disadvantages of being in a superhero group is that one team member’s arch nemesis becomes everyone else on the team’s arch nemesis also. That is simply a cross to bear, unfortunately. One thing that isn’t as common knowledge is that not all supervillains choose superheroes for their arch nemeses. One such supervillain was highlighted in the Internal UK Bank International’s monthly staff newsletter.

And now onto other news.

Our branch in Mid in January had a rude start to the working week when not one but two robberies took place, in front of all staff and a queue of customers. The customers’ queue actually snaked out through the door, in what was probably our busiest day of the period so far. We were so busy in fact; security had to jump on the overflow counters and process transactions, which is probably why both incidents happened. Here’s a breakdown of the morning’s events:

09:55 Cashier Number Four’s counter had to be closed due to the glass security panel suddenly melting. Luckily, the customer’s transaction had been processed, and the customer had left without noticing this incident.

10:01 Cashier Number Two’s counter closed due to the same reason.

10:09 Cashier Number Eight followed suit.

10:12 Cashier Number Six was handed a note from ‘Even Steven’ demanding £25,000.00 in used twenties.

10:15 Cashier Number Six calmly passed over a withdrawal slip to the robber so as not to alarm the nearby queuing customers. She also activated the silent alarm, which triggered the automatic door locking mechanism.

10:20 Cashier Number Six had supervisor authorisation to carry out the transaction, using the specially marked notes kept on site for such an instance.

10:22 Cashiers One, Three, Five, Seven, Nine and Ten discreetly evacuated, and security infiltrated the queuing customers as other customers, as is standard protocol.

10:25 Funds handed over to Even Steven, who stuffed them into a cloth sack in a black back pack.

10:30 Even Steven calmly walked away from the counter and came face to face with two members of security.

10:35 Security found themselves trapped in the floor as Even Steven had used his ‘evening powers’ to alter the molecular structure of the floor so they sank into it, and then altered the structure back again, trapping them.

10:40 Customers starting to become unsettled; hostess staff offered drinks to diffuse the mood.

10:40 Even Steven flung across the transaction concourse, smashing through ATM 5, which dispensed all of its five pound notes. The audit afterwards revealed this to be £8,000.00.

10:45 A woman gathers all of the fivers and stuffs them into the back pack CCTV revealed her take from Even Steven before sending him across the room.

10:45 Security secure Even Steven, now unconscious, but fail to stop the woman

10:50 Security notice the glass in the automatic doors has also been melted.

10:59 External CCTV shows the woman making her getaway in a white boxer van. A close up later revealed the woman to be Simba Katiya, International Bank Thief.

We haven’t established exactly who Simba was working for, or why she should choose to steal from our Mid branch on exactly the same day that another bank thief was in attendance. Apparently, these investigations are continuing with the EFB. At least one robber was captured, and no staff or customers were harmed. We were able to get the floor off our security members within two hours, although we lost £33,000.00 due to the marked money being stored in a different safety box that day. But, all procedures were followed, so excellent work on the whole to our Mid team.