After wandering all night Sir Frey finally broke through the trees and saw the bright castle in the distance.

His bones ached. Sweat covered his face. His strong muscular frame slumped at the weight of the armor. The gash across his face still bled and he could smell the metallic scent as it ran down his mustache. He fell to his knees and wept.

The ordeal left him alone, his two men or at least what remained of them slumped over the horses in tow, along with the beast that ended them. He closed his eyes and played the nightmare over again.

They gave chase to a man seen leaving the Princesses quarters after the maids heard a scream and found her covered in blood, writhing on the floor. Three of the strongest men of the royal guard, Sir Frey included, pursued the man into the forest, their horses struggling to keep up with the man’s unnatural speed. The men tracked him to a pathway that led to a clearing. They dismounted and surrounded the tattered man covered in royal blood. The moonlight glistened off their swords and the woods fell silent, as if every branch and creature sat unnaturally still.

The men all stood at the ready, trying not to be unnerved by the eerie deafness surrounding them. The man let out a gut wrenching scream, startling two of the men to the ground, Sir Frey kept his stance frozen in horror. The man’s arms and legs stretched and expanded, contorting into monstrous limbs. The snapping of his bones echoed between the trees as his muscles grew and ripped his already torn clothes. The nails on his hands and feet formed long dark claws, shadowy brown hair began to burst from his pores. His face deformed, his nose and mouth elongated to a snout, his teeth grew longer and shaped into long fangs. It’s eyes turned pale with death then clouded pitch black they reflected the moonlight, and began searching for prey.

Sir Frey and the other man closest to the beast lunged their swords at it. The beast gripped Sir Frey’s sword while the other man’s pierced into its thigh. Letting out a howl, the beast swung the sword and Sir Frey holding onto it into a tree behind him, then spun around to the man with the sword now stuck in its thick barbaric leg. It opened its mouth and thrust down encasing the mans head in teeth. The man let go of the sword and began screaming as the jaw of the beast closed on his skull, smashing bone and ripping through his neck. His armor crashed to the ground as the beast opened his snout again, covered in blood he let a howl as the mans head fell to the ground. In horror the remaining man dropped his sword and fled. The beast leapt and tackled the man.

Sir Frey arose seconds later to the sound of flesh and teeth and armor all clashing together. Muffled gurgled screams coming from the victim on the ground. He crept closer and closer to the creature using its distraction as an advantage.

Making his move he bolted toward the creature aiming for the protruding bones of its spine. The creatures ears perked as it turned toward the man charging forward. With all his might, he thrust his longsword into the beasts now exposed chest. The speed of the attack pushed the beast back against a tree. A yelp clamored through the forest as Sir Frey forced harder and deeper, blood spurting from the growing wound and covering his face. The creature snarled and snapped trying to subdue his attacker. In one last attempt the creature swung its claws and slashed Sir Frey’s face. He leaned back a moment as fire etched across his skin, blood gushing from his face, then pushed further and further until his guard met the beast’s chest. It’s hollow dark eyes, clouded over as it slumped and then fell to the ground.

Sir Frey opened his eyes as he kneeled at the edge of the forest. He took a breath, gathered all his remaining strength, lifted his worn out body and trudged toward the castle gates.

An atom wanders through a dark void of silence.

Alone, it searches. Until finally it crashes into another, and another, and another. A gas plumes from the nothingness. Building and building.

Two atoms meet in the middle of the newly formed cloud. A spark ignites. Heat and light begin to expand into the void at an incredible speed. All at once, galaxies of stars and worlds spread among the vast emptiness like stones skipping on a still pond.

Again there is silence. Millions of years of empty time and space.

Until once again there is a lone atom. Not in a dark void but in an empty ocean. It wanders the changing tides continuously searching until finally it collides with another and another. Over and over until there is being, until there is life. That life creates another and then more and more. The ocean fills with creatures. Creatures that swim and hunt and evolve. They crawl from the oceans onto land. Feeling the warmth and light of the sun, echoing the first spark.

Their fins become legs and arms, they begin to move across the land, adapting and exploring.

They learn to stand upright, they learn to ignite fire, they learn to communicate. They create art and music. They fall in love. They become human.

All this from a lonely atom experiencing chaos.

As long as I could remember my brother and I would sneak away every summer afternoon to fish at Hanson’s Pond.

Until the summer of ‘89.

The pond sat next to Country Road 17, the only road that stretched through the entire county. It was a popular fishing and swimming hole for many of the kids and an escape from the adults for teens that wanted to smoke, drink and do what teenagers do.

On a particularly busy day at the pond my brother Joe decided it was time to try out a secret fishing spot he’d overheard some older boys talking about. The main pond washed away into thick tall grass that most kids assumed turned into land but if you hiked far enough through the grass it became deep again.

It was difficult to get to as most secret spots are. We trudged and stomped through mud and bushes, slapped away bugs and chased snakes until we finally made it to a small shaded beach underneath a small bridge holding Country Road 17. The tall grass made it hard to see back to the main pond and the distance made us almost impossible to hear over the wind and cicadas. We made ourselves comfortable on the beach, dug out holes to place our rods in and sat back, waiting for a bite.

The warmth of the afternoon turned into a cool breeze as the sun sunk lower in the sky. As it got closer to sunset the occupants of the main pond started to leave and soon it was just us left in the early dusk. Joe had fallen asleep with his hat shading his face, and I sat watching some tadpoles swimming near the shore. A rumble came from the road above us. It did every time a car passed so my attention remained on the tiny new friends I had been watching.

In the reflection I saw her falling. I looked up as the tadpoles scattered in anticipation of the woman hitting the pond. She crashed on the beach, her top half slapped onto the wet beach as her legs splashed into the water, scaring Joe awake.

We both sat stunned, frozen. She was in a black dress, covered in flowers. There were bruises all over her arms and face. Her bright blue eyes were open and lifeless, staring into mine.

She wanted to believe me.

I could see the sympathy in her eyes. She understood my frustration but could do nothing to ease it. I just wanted her to look at me like she used to.

Like when she’d first wake up and smile at me, her eyes full of hope and comfort.

Like when we would talk and she would watch me so intensely that I felt like the only other person on the planet.

Like when we would make love and fire and passion would wash over us staring deep into each other’s eyes, feeling each other’s heartbeat, breathing as one.

She looked away from me, turning to leave as there was nothing more she could do or say. I grabbed her hand.

“Wait. Will you do one last thing for me?”

I pulled her close to me, now holding both of her hands. She looked up at me, my eyes began to swell.

“Dance with me? Just one more time.”

She paused a moment. Hesitating. Not wanting me to hold on to hope but not wanting to be the one to shatter my being, she nods.

I pull her close slowly, making these last moments together take as long as possible.

I wrap my hands around her back as hers go around my neck. I close my eyes as we begin to sway and in her ear I whisper our song. The song that played on our first date. The song that played as I proposed, as we married, that we would sing to our son to make him fall asleep.

Finally she holds me closer and rests her head on my shoulder, I can feel her crying. I join her. We dance in the silence of our tears. She pulls away from me, her hands on my face, she looks deep into my eyes screaming for recognition.

“I’m sorry.” She says torn and upset, “I wish I knew you. I really do.”

With that she pulls away, breaking our dance and my heart. I crumble to the ground as the door closes.