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Monday, January 23, 2012

The Farmer

A paper crane sat in the middle of the trail that morning, right in the shadow of the abandoned tower. The farmer stooped and picked it up, puzzled.

The farmer walked past the abandoned tower every time he went to town. Nearly every weekend he had to take that trail to get supplies, and so he would pass the tower on the way there, and again on the way back, and not once had he ever heard a sound from within, nor seen any movement. So where had this come from?

He unfolded the crane, and inside, a message was written:

Dear noble sir, it read. I have watched you from the top of my tower for many years now, and think you very handsome. I believe I may love you. I am trapped here by oni who have cast a curse on me so that I may only be carried out of this tower by the man I love. Please help me.

Thinking it odd, but never one to turn down a woman in distress, the farmer turned to the tower and approached the door. Mounted above it was a blood-red katana and an oni mask of matching color. Shrugging his shoulders, the man slowly opened the door. He slipped inside the dark, musty room, which was nothing more than the floor and the bottom of a flight of stairs. He tiptoed to the stairs, but before he could take the first step, a flash of light burst in front of his face.

Floating in front of him was the bodiless head of an oni. It glowed an eerie green and had large tusks and horns protruding from its grotesque face.

“She will not love you. Turn back,” it growled in a voice that seemed to speak directly into the farmers mind.

The farmer shoved the levitating head out of the way and ascended the steps to the second floor, where he was met by a second oni.

“No matter what you do, she will never love you. Turn back.”

The farmer pushed ahead anyway. All told, there were nineteen floors, each with their own oni, which each warned him similarly.

Finally, panting heavily, the farmer reached the top, where there was a door. He pushed it open and stepped inside. There was a bed inside, and sitting upon it was the most beautiful woman the farmer had ever seen. He gulped nervously and tried to look presentable. He greeted her warmly and told her that he had received her note and that he was going to take her away with him. She smiled a dazzling smile and embraced him tightly, and then kissed him.

“Thank you, my love,” she whispered sweetly in his ear. “I knew you’d come.”

He led her back down the stairs, but the oni did not appear this time. Without any struggle, they left the tower, and walked down the trail back to the farmer’s home.

There they stayed for nineteen months, and they were deeply in love and deeply happy. But on the day before the twentieth month, the woman asked him an odd question.

“When are you going to take me to my castle?”

The farmer was puzzled at the question.

“What castle do you mean?”

“I am a princess after all, surely you didn’t think to rescue me without having a proper castle to take me back to?”

“I confess that I didn’t, my love. But I’ll build you a castle if that would make you happy.”

“Yes, do it now.”

“It will take time, my love.”

“Then you should get all of your fellow samurai to help you,” she said irritably.

Another strange thing to say, the farmer thought.

“I am not a samurai, my love. I am a farmer.”

“Then you must become one. I can’t be with a lowly farmer.”

“I will train to join the samurai, for you, but it will take time.”

“Time is something I do not have,” she hissed.

“Am I not worth waiting for, my love?” the farmer pleaded.

“No, you are not. I do not love you anymore and never will,” she said coldly.

The farmer stared at her in shock. He could feel his soul crumble as she spoke those words.

“I miss my home, please take me back.”

The farmer nodded silently and picked up a lantern. He led her down the trail to the tower and opened the door for her, tears welling up in his eyes. She lifted his chin and looked at him intensely.

“Do not cry,” she said with a smile. “A little part of you will always be with me.”

She kissed him gently and then disappeared into the shadows of her tower. The door shut silently behind her. The man collapsed to his knees, sobbing. He looked up to the top of the tower, hoping to see her face looking down, but he saw nothing. His gaze lowered down the tower until it fell upon the oni mask and the blood-red sword. He pulled them both down from their place above the door and tied the mask on.

He raised the blade…

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Character Design

The digital art I did that inspired the following story

"Which one is next?" says the voice in the darkness.

The man (that's what he thinks he is at least) in the glass, gel-filled tube listens. And somehow, he understands.

"This one, Lord," says the voice's shining assistant. "Subject #419."

The conveyor belt whirs beneath the man in the tube and jolts him sideways. He stops directly in front of the voice, and suddenly becomes acutely aware of his own mortality.

A mechanical arm drops down in front of the man in the tube. It has an orb at the end which emits a beam of red light. The soulless eye peers through the man, seeing his every atom, yet not seeing him at all.

"And what makes this one so special?" the voice in the darkness asks.

"Nothing, father," answers the assistant. "He's utterly unremarkable."

The soulless eye returns to whence it came, leaving the man in the tube alone once more.

"As they all are. It's what makes them perfect for these experiments. They're utterly disposable, but they are always trying to prove otherwise."

The man in the tube feels hopelessness without ever having felt hope. He feels as if he has failed, yet he knows not the terms of victory.

"Shall we subject him to the experiments then?" asks the assistant.

If only the man in the could speak. But he has not learned how. He has not had the joy of hearing language for the first time.

But if he could, this is what he would say right now. This is how he would answer the assistant's question.

"Yes. And though I may never know again the nature of my own existence, I will defy you. I will defy you by being happy in the face of your mad science. I will be nothing but a data point to you, but if I must be that, then I will be an outlier. I will not conform to you natural laws and give you the outcome of being unremarkable and dead that you hypothesize."

That is what he would say if he could speak. But he can't.

"Dump him in simulator ninety-two," says the voice coldly. "Maybe he'll surprise us."

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

They Have No Answers

Jormungand writhed about the feet of Janus as Quetzalcoatl returned to the shores from which Ra departs each day.

The hero of the story stood before them, in awe.

What answers could they provide?

More important yet, what questions could be asked of them?

He pulled out his eye and cast it into the River Styx.

“Why am I alone?” asked the hero. “What did I do that I deserved to be forsaken?”

“You did nothing at all to deserve it,” answered the snake(s) of Coatlique’s face. “And that is the greatest crime of all.”

The hero watched as the woman had to empty her cup and Loki screamed in pain as the venom struck his eyes. The shriek shook the mountain, causing Sisyphus to drop his crucifix.

“So it’s meaningless then?”

“Everything has meaning,” Izanagi told him. “Which makes meaning fairly meaningless.”

Ishmael and Abel ran past the hero, fleeing Cain and Jacob. Hades cursed Zeus for his trickery.

“I don’t understand.”

“Now you’re getting somewhere,” said Coyote. “The first step is admitting you don’t know you have a problem.”

Hercules got drunk and ran Balder through with mistletoe. The world ended.

“Where do I go now? What can I do?”

“Forward,” Anansi told him, “Something.”

The flood then receded, and Brahma helped Noah unload the animals.

“And what of love?” asked the hero of the story.

“Good question,” the universe told him.