Skyler Fisher
Just a fish, lost amongst the clouds. Trying to put down words to ground my thoughts.
Skyler Fisher
Just a fish, lost amongst the clouds. Trying to put down words to ground my thoughts.
Just a fish, lost amongst the clouds. Trying to put down words to ground my thoughts.
Just a fish, lost amongst the clouds. Trying to put down words to ground my thoughts.
I open my eyes, in bed with my wife The sun shining bright I get out of bed, thankful for life Ready to start the day right
I open my eyes, sad and alone Haunted by dreams pre-divorce With heavy heart, I rise with a groan My life filled with remorse
I open my eyes, running late for school Confused by my strange dream. Is some trickster playing me like a fool? Are things actually like they seem?
I open my eyes, in bed with my wife Filled with confusion and surprise I wonder which of these ‘dreams’ is my real life. And do I dare open my eyes?
I hear a yell and turn to look, just in time to see a woman slip over the edge of the bridge we’re on. Not just any woman. Rose. My fiancée. The woman I loved, with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life.
Of course, saving her would be easy. At this height, she wouldn’t hit the ground for almost five seconds. Plenty of time to teleport to her, grab her, and move us both to safety. In all, a very typical rescue that I’m well practiced in. There’s just one catch.
I’m not in costume.
H.E.R.O. Law states that I am forbidden from using my powers while in civilian clothes under any circumstances. No one else is around, but there would be no way to hide my powers from her if I did this.
In this fraction of a moment, I have a decision to make. Face the high council and be striped of my title and place amongst active heroes, living as an outcast amongst my former peers, or lose the woman I love. A mercifully easy decision all things considered.
I rush to the ledge that I saw her tumble over and vault over the railing, spotting her mid fall. I quickly realize my hesitation cost me precious time, and she’s now much closer to the ground than I’d like. I will myself to her side, feeling the familiar rush as the world blurs around me, placing me beside her. I grab her tightly, supporting her head and neck to prevent any whiplash as I prepare to teleport us both. Through my focus in teleporting us both to safety, I hear a sickening crack as something made contact with the ground before we both shift upward.
In a well practiced maneuver, I had oriented us upside-down, allowing what was our downward momentum to instead launch us higher in the air. Then, at the peak of our movement, just before we started to fall again, I focus back on the bridge we both started on, giving us a safe spot to land.
I land on my feet, but find myself unable to balance properly, and fall over. Looking down, two questions are answered. That crack from before was my own leg hitting the ground, and the shattered bones in what used to be my shin were why I couldn’t stand properly.
I look over to Rose, ready to answer her questions. But she just silently stares at me, a look of surprise on her face. I decide to speak first, before the shock wears off and I start to feel the mess of my former leg.
“Yes. I am Zip. No, I couldn’t tell you. Yes, I’m sorry I lied to you. Yes, that does explain why my ‘work’ hours were so strange sometimes. No, I can’t introduce you to other heroes. Even if I wanted to, I don’t know their civilian identities. And yes, if you’ll have me, I still want to spend the rest of my life with you. That should cover the basics. Any other questions you have?”
She continues to look at me in silence. After a moment, she reaches into her bag and pulls out… is that a H.E.R.O. issued med kit? Why does she have one of those? Questions fly through my mind as she takes out a syringe and jabs it into my leg, flooding my system with a nano-bot swarm that will slowly start repairing the damage.
Then, for the first time since this started, her look of shock breaks into an amused smile. “Hello Zip” she says, holding up her hand. She snaps her fingers, and a small ball of fire materializes, covering just above her fingers. “I’m Ashe.”
A nomadic heart, From home depart, Long steps to clear my head.
From smooth paved street To dirt ‘neath my feet With no direction I mindlessly tread.
An unmarked line Free of city’s whine A calming peace envelops me.
Between the hills A cool wind chills Leaves rustling on a lonely tree.
A long dirt trail Break free from jail Of clouded daily perspective.
A gentle breeze Puts minds at ease Anxious thoughts ineffective.
Until at last Day gone too fast To the world I must return
A fleeting joy For this troubled boy My next escape I already yearn
Does a drop of water know What larger purpose it will serve? Can it feel the river flow? Can it feel the ocean surge?
Or do drops of water drift Blind to their own place? Their fate in constant shift, Certainty a foolish chase?
Can a person really know What larger purpose they will serve? Or are they lost, unable to slow And take time to observe?
Three years…
It had been three long years. Empty beds, lonely meals, and a painfully quiet house had become the norm. It’s strange to think how much presence a single person can have in your life. Now, she’s gone. All that’s left is the oppressive emptiness of the spaces she used to occupy. Hollow ghosts haunting me wherever I go.
That, and the closet full of her things.
It had been three years since I hastily threw all her belongings inside and closed the closet door. It was too painful to look at them. Pictures of us together. Gifts that reminded me of her. Her collection of plastic figurines. And her clothes. All the clothes that would never be worn now that she is gone. All haphazardly thrown into the closet in an attempt to forget their previous owner.
Three years of pretending the door in my hallway didn’t exist. Of deflecting questions when nosy guests notice the locked door. Of hopelessly waiting for her to reappear and claim her long abandoned items, as if she were just away on a trip rather than gone forever.
Finally. After three years, it was time to finish moving on. Armed with some large trash bags, my plan was clear. Open the door. Put all the items into the bags. Take the bags to a donation site. Three steps. I wasn’t going to stop to look at anything. No reminiscing over the photos. Just armfuls of things unceremoniously shoved into a bag where they will never be seen again. They’ll be someone else’s problem.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and unlock the door. The hinges creak loudly, complaining at having not been used for so long. Light hits the pile of forgotten memories for the first time in three years. I get to work.
I do my best to distract myself. Thinking of anything and everything other than the task at hand as I follow the plan. Armfuls of her belongings disappearing into the black void of the bags. No time to sort. No time to care what ends up where. I avert my eyes, blindly grabbing items to avoid stirring up unwanted memories. All was going well. The plan was working.
Until my fingers felt the unmistakable texture of a crushed velvet dress.
I froze, arms buried in a pile of discarded memories. I refuse to look down, but I don’t need to. I know exactly what it is. Its image is burned into my memory. The soft green color that shimmers in the light. The faint red stain from a glass of wine carelessly spilled. The small tear along the hem from a misstep on the dance floor. I knew this dress well.
It was what she wore the very last night I saw her.
For what felt like an eternity, I remained motionless. Memories of that night rushing back to me. I tried to push them away, but the texture of the dress still in my hands forces them to the forefront. Memories of a party. Of laughter and mirth among friends. Of a cool, cloudless evening, the moon lighting up her face, dancing across the dress as it hugs her form. The night used to be a happy memory, now tainted with darker emotions with the cruelty of the knowledge of what was to come.
Slowly, I return to the task at hand. The sting of tears in my eyes blinding me from having to look at any of the rest of the belongings. As the last bag is filled and tied off, I look over my work. A pile of dark plastic hiding away all the things I would rather not remember. I load them into my car, and drive them to a local charity, heaving the bags into the donation bin.
I return home, and gaze into the closet. For the first time in three years, the closet is free from her memories. Free from the torment of her haunting me. Empty of any emotion, any pain, and any longing for something that will never return.
Save for a single, green dress, hanging in the corner.
Ten Minutes<
My lungs burn as I continue to push myself, cursing both my tardiness and my lax attitude toward cardio. Three years of research, pouring over dusty tomes, missing out on countless social calls, and I’m going to miss it because I couldn’t bother to leave my house on time.
An unseen root catches my foot and I find myself falling, covering my face as I brace for impact. Pain courses through my body as I hit the ground hard, the leaves and debris of the forest floor offering little in the way of breaking my fall. With a groan, I pull myself to my feet, quickly checking for anything broken. I take note of a cut on my arm, hoping it isn’t too deep despite the already surprising amount of blood. I check my watch.
Five Minutes<
I resume my desperate dash, pushing away the pain and the warm feeling of blood running down my arm. My injuries are a problem for tomorrow. Right now, all that matters is not missing this once in a lifetime opportunity.
Now slightly more aware of my surroundings, I balance looking at the ground for more hazards with glancing at the stars to ensure I’m not drifting from my course. The twin moons drift ever closer, taunting me for my poor time management.
Two Minutes<
The surrounding trees shift from great evergreens to thinner, white-barked birches, signaling my approach to my destination. The increased density of the trunks slows my advance as I frustratedly weave between the ivory towers. In the distance, some small creature scurries away, spooked as I nosily hustle through this last series of obstacles.
One Minute<
In the distance, I see the telltale break in the tree line, signaling my approach to my destination. I force my way past the last few trees as I step into the clearing.
Thirty Seconds<
The silence of the forest is broken by my heavy panting as I try and recover from my exertion. I look up at the small body of water in the middle of the clearing, my heart pounding in my ears.
Fifteen Seconds<
Just like my research told me, rising from the pond is a single stone plinth, worn and moss covered but still proudly standing tall, almost reaching the height of the trees bordering the clearing.
Five Seconds<
I lean back against a tree for support, my legs suddenly jelly as the efforts of my rush catch up to me.
Zero Seconds<
Far above, the twin moons cross paths as they are both plunged into darkness by a dual lunar eclipse. The forest goes dark, save for the now softly glowing monolith in the center of the clearing. Unseen runes etched onto its ancient surface spring to life in a gentle, golden hue. The lights reflect off the still waters of the pond, lighting up the clearing with dancing lights.
I gingerly approach the pond, my recent frustrations and exhaustion forgotten amidst the dancing auras filling the air around me. As I draw near, a faint thrumming sound pierces the silence, a wave of calm washing over me. I pull my journal from my bag, flipping through my notes, until I find the page I am looking for. It is covered in lines of text, transcribed from ancient tomes in a nearly unreadable language. Beneath each word, in my own hand, is a phonetic guide.
I start to recite the incantation, slowly at first as my mouth struggles with the unfamiliar sounds. At the sound of my voice, the monolith begins to glow brighter. Emboldened by the response, I continue the recitation, picking up speed as I find the foreign words more familiar on my tongue.
The lights and sounds continue to intensify, the clearing coming alive with the golden hue of the monolith. The runes continue to grow brighter, almost becoming too intense to look directly at. I continue the ritual, the words escaping my mouth faster than I can read them as the magic laced in the words takes over. As the incantation reaches its crescendo, the clearing is filled with a blinding flash of light, signifying its successful completion.
It takes a moment for my eyes to readjust back to the soft glow of the clearing. Small motes of light hang in the air, casting dancing shadows in the trees beyond. I look up to the monolith in the center, and I am met with the subject of my research. A long snake, seeming made of light, is wrapped around the length of the plinth. It looks down at me, its golden eyes soft but unreadable. Then, in a voice that seems to originate from the surrounding air, it speaks.
“It has been a long time since someone has completed the ritual... I had almost forgotten what it was like to have a body.” It’s great coils shift along the length of the monolith, as if trying to find a comfortable spot. “Thank you.”
I gaze upon its form, my mind blank as I am overwhelmed with its beauty. After a moment, I recover my thoughts as I recite the words I have practiced so many times. “Oh Great Serpent. The Shining One. Bringer of Fate and Fortune. Protector of the Land. This humble servant requests anointment. To become an instrument of your will.”
The serpent looks at me, with what could only be described as a small smile on its reptilian face. “Very well. Receive my blessing, and go forth as my chosen one”. For a brief moment, everything is still, the serpent and I gazing at each other. Then, with a swiftness uncharacteristic of a creature of its size, it slithers down the monolith and across the surface of the pond toward me. I brace myself, knowing what comes next. The serpent lunges at me, its great fangs bared. Then, the world goes dark.
I wake up some time later, still in the clearing. The glowing lights are gone, replaced by the soft light of the twin moons, now on separate paths across the sky once again. I look down at my arms, and across the bruises and cuts I earned on my hurried traversal earlier is a pattern of snake scales, drawn in shimmering, golden lines. I stand to my feet, and slowly make my way back through the forest to begin my new life.
One Hundred and Twenty-Five Years, Three Hours and Fifteen Minutes<