Part VI: Juicy


Part VI: Juicy


Ardath sat on his throne of bones, onyx, obsidian and darkness. He ruled the Abyss, a place of his own creation, and he smiled.

Ardath had once been a God. He had been the God of Darkness and the guardian of the souls lost in it, but he had found it tedious. He was one of many brothers who served with the Death family, but he felt they were wasted in their place. They were Immortal yet they chose to protect, to guard, to guide mortals. MORTALS!

It was a waste of their power. They should take, consume and rule the mortals, not be glorified servants to them.

He devised a plan and soon he began amassing an army of souls, stashing them in the darkness rather than guiding them out.

Soon, he took the elements and corrupted them, most especially fire, and used it to torture and scorch the souls he held imprisoned. As he formed energy from the souls, he molded the darkness to his desires and built the Abyss. His kingdom.

He made the souls into warriors and started a battle with Death, if he won, he could claim Death his and would have all the souls of the dead to empower him.

With Gods, there were two main ways for them to be empowered. The faith of their followers and the souls amassed within the light. Within the Lightlands Beyond the Veil, there were many, many lands. Each faithful follower of a God resided in the place reserved for them.

That was what Death and his family did escorted the souls Beyond the Veil and their trials to be sure they made it to their proper place in the Lightlands.

Ardath violated all those rules and began a war against the Gods, especially Grimmear and his family. Grimmear was the name Death originally held, but as time passed his followers imply called him Death and the name Grimmear faded into obscurity.

Ardath was beaten back, unable to overcome Grimmear and his brothers. Mortis and Khaeron were chief in stopping Ardath in his first assault.

He retreated, leaving the tortured soul behind as fodder. Twisted and evil they were nothing more than fire and darkness screaming in agony, wanting nothing but blood and gore to feed on and stop the pain.

Ardath, back in his new kingdom, knew he needed more. He devised a plan to make an even greater army. The souls he held in reserve, he took things from all of creation and he combined them with the souls. And thus he created demons.

He knew he would need more souls, but he had been cut off access from the lost souls in the darkness.

So he devised a new plan. He would release magic, the power of the God’s, into the world. He released the power of the darkness and his corruption of it, and he guided the corruption of the elements in the real world.

He released the power to control the dead, to reanimate them, to make more of them. As he did, he made witches, sorcerers and those who could serve him. He gained followers and he rewarded them. Their faith fed his power and they helped him gain souls and those souls became soldiers.

The second assault was made when a gate to the Veil was opened. This war was bloody and long.

Those who opposed to Ardath were Solariel; God of the Sun and the Light, Protector of the Lightlands, Chief of the Angels. His brother, Elestiel, God of Protection, Protector and Guardian of Mortals, Chief of the Guardian Angels. And Ahriman, Protector of the Celestial Bodies.

They fought long and hard and pushed back Ardath and his abominations. Ardath even released monsters upon the land to kill, consume and cover the world in darkness.

The war took its toll on them all, but Ahriman was affected the worst. Ardath lead an attack against Ahriman and his angels and soon he convinced Ahriman that Maykapal and his brothers weren’t fighting. They were using Ahriman to fight the entire war. Ahriman became angry and was convinced to turn on his brothers.

He fought against Solariel and Elestiel, but they were more than Ahriman could fight, even allied with Ardath. Ahriman knew what he could do to defeat them, and released the power from the Void of the Cosmos.

He fought them and was winning until Maykapal himself stepped in to stop him. Maykapal was injured in the battle, but Ahriman was destroyed and the Void closed. Though many unknown horrors escaped into the known universes.

The Ahrimanes, the name given to the angels that joined Ardath but failed, retreated to the Abyss.

Now Ardath plotted and ruled from the Abyss and from the Hellfire pits where he tortured his souls.

Before him, the first witch, Tabitha, fed the heart of an angel to Talamar. Talamar knelt in a circle of glowing red sigils and groaned in ecstasy.

“Good, Talamar. You have done well. Soon you will join Anbiru and Tabitha as some of my most powerful agents.”

Tabitha then had him drink from a black chalice, and fed him another heart.


Part V: Shattered


Part V: Shattered


Lyse looked in the broken mirror and all she saw was the vision she had had earlier that day.

The beautiful round mirror had sat in a gold gilded frame. It had been a wedding gift to her parents from Satibah, former God of Death and her paternal grandfather. The mirror had magic and would allow the family to travel to Beyond the Veil. A gateway to the realm where Death ruled.

Lyse had taken the mirror out of its frame and was going to use it to go visit her father. It had only been a week since his death and it had only been several days since the funeral and the burning of her father’s body on the pyre.

The dagger used on her father had been enchanted to provide final death when used. No second chances.

She had cried for days after she learned of the news, and then, the Death Dragon came. A Death Dragon served one purpose, to pass on and protect the magic of a demigod and provide comfort to the one grieving as they inherit the power. Lyse inherited her father’s powers, which would not make life easier. The dragon would teach her to use them and then, he would lurk in the darkness until he was needed again.

This particular dragon, Darterius, had seen many die. He’d passed power on, some centuries old. Old Gods, new Gods, demi-gods. He’d seen them come and go and return, but always there would be those who died and did not come back.

He could remember Elcar, God of Giants. His story was one of caution.

Elcar had stood nearly 10 feet tall and weighed 900 pounds. He was the strongest of all to ever exist and became the father of the giants. His children grew even bigger than he was and he grew jealous. Elcar, like all gods, was immortal, so he did not fear death.

His anger and his jealousy drove him mad and he began to kill any of his children larger than himself. Soon, he believed he needed to kill all giants and start over again. He called all his children to a certain place and held a feast. Though the giants were considered demi-gods, they were not immortal, just large in size and strength. The food was drugged and soon each and everyone of Elcar’s children were fast asleep and unable to wake.

He took his ax and slew them one by one. As he did, the place became soaked in their blood. Maykapal, the Creator, was told of this atrocity and found Elcar slaying the last of his children.

His voice boomed across the land, startling Elcar.

“You dare kill that which you are to protect! To Guide! TO LOVE!”

A bolt of light flared and ignited Elcar, vaporizing him where he stood. Maykapal cursed Elcar’s name and allowed the God’s power to settle on that piece of land, and in its place now stands glorious Red Wood trees, the tallest, strongest and most beautiful trees.  Maykapal made a promise that these trees would stand forever to honor those slain and to remind everyone of Elcar’s sin. Legend says, deep among the Red Woods, that some of those trees can speak, and move. They became an ancient race devoted to the forest. Legend also claims they are the wisest of beings.

Lyse had carried the mirror to the middle of the room but as she did she caught a glimpse of her reflection and screamed at it. It was not her, but of a woman who was very old, broken and bent. You could see the sadness in her eyes and could feel the weariness of life wafting from her, and you could feel it like an ache in your bones.

She had dropped the mirror screaming and it shattered in the middle of the floor.

Now, she sat, sad and lonely, staring into that mirror, seeing herself as a broken and lonely person, whose emotions had bent her and bowed her spirit, and she could feel that ache in her bones.

Emmett and Roscoe came. They could feel her sadness and they leaned against her, one on each side. It was comforting, and the loneliness and the feeling of loss began to fade.

The Death Dragon, Darterius, slid behind her and held her as she began to sob.

“And this too shall pass away, the sorrow replaced by happiness, the loneliness with companionship.”

She cried harder and knew she would be okay, but her grief and mourning time was not yet up.

Part IV: Screech


Part IV: Screech


Berodach rose up in his saddle and held out his right arm. His falcon, Gyr, landed on his gloved hand. The skull-faced mask worn by most of the Black Guard was like that of bleached bone. The shadow of Gyr fell across it making it more sinister in appearance.

Gyr was his familiar and though Berodach was an elite and high ranking member of the Black Guard, he was still bound by the rules and laws of the land. Like most people within his family, none admitted that they were descended from the first god of Death. This meant appearing as far from Demi-God status as possible.

Taking on a familiar made it appear less like Berodachs powers were of divine providence and more like just plain magic.

His magic did lend itself heavily to dealing with spirits and the dead, though. Especially in banishing the undead and unholy creatures raised by Necromancers and Sorcerers. So any and all misdirection to keep people from assuming he was closely related to the God of Death, the better.

Gyr screeched for a moment and Berodach listened, then Gyr took back to flight.

“He is just ahead in the swamp. Move swiftly before he evades us again.”

He and his men, as well as a contingent of Sentinels, were hunting the Sorcerer, Talamar, a very dangerous Sorcerer who had broken nearly every law regarding magic.

Berodach lifted his mace from his belt on his ride side, holding it aloft. He urged his horse, General, forward and he, as well as his men, moved swiftly.

Gyr flew down amongst the trees as solid footing gave way to spongy earth that would then be swallowed by the mire and muck of the swamp.

As a familiar, Gyr and Berodachs bond, formed by magic, was strong. Each bond a magician had with their familiar was always different and in this case, Gyr could shift from his form as a falcon, to that of a human.

As he darted toward the earth, he changed forms and landed in a crouch in his human form.  Berodach dismounted from his horse.

They were now in the Swamps of Anbiru.

The story of Anbiru claimed that he had once been a great magician favored by many. The King at that time called on Anbiru to do him a favor and travel to what was now a large area of swamp. At that time, though, it had been a forest, but something evil lurked within. Anbiru was charged with finding and expelling the malevolent being so the King could hunt in the forest without fear.

When Anbiru arrived, he immediately could feel the evil oozing forth from the forest. He knew immediately what was lurking within. It was a demon. And a powerful one.

Demons and other fell creatures can be harmed by several things. Silver was always at the top of the list. Blades enchanted with sigils of power from certain deities, or channeling the natural elements. Elemental powers themselves worked quite well, too.

As a magician, Anbiru had been trained to channel the elements into his power and wield them with devastating accuracy. He also served Maykapal, the Creator, who formed the Universes and then proceeded to populate them. It is said that he created Chronus, also called Father Time and Gaia, who is called Mother Earth. From them most of the Gods were spawned.

Anbiru fought the demon, using all of his power, but the devastation to the forest would scar it permanently. Weakened, Anbiru still fought, but could not beat the beat the demon, and thus, became possessed.

The natural elements, Terra, Ventus, Ignis and Aqua were corrupted by the now possessed Anbiru and the result was the Swamps of Anbiru.

The story contends that Anbiru never left the swamp and is somewhere at its heart, possessed and full of power.

Berodach moved quickly as he spotted Talamar. His men laid sprawled out some in the murky water, others on spongy moss covered ground. All seemed to be alive still. Talamar was weak from the days of chase.

He threw lightning tinged in bright green hellfire at Berodach, but he caught it with the head of his mace. The mace was reinforced with sigils of power, warding against nearly all creatures and attacks from them.

He swung the mace at Talamar, who lost his footing and fell to the ground. Berodach was knocked off balance from the sudden disappearance of his target and the head of the mace imbedded in a tree.

Talamar sneered as his next blast of hellish lightning sent Berodach into the quagmire. At that moment, Captain Arnhast came into the clearing, his cutlass held forward. He spared no time in attacking Talamar. This gave berodach enough time to right himself and charge at Talamar, knocking him to the ground. Arnhast held the cutlass to the throat of Talamar as Gyr appeared from nowhere and quickly clasped manacles to the wrists and ankles of the Sorcerer.

The infamous Talamar was now in custody.

Soon, the men who had been knocked down and leveled unconscious began to awake and climbed to their feet. Despite the hard chase and fight, all of them seemed more or less unharmed.

“Good Job, men. We have done the kingdom well today.”

As Talamar was taken away, to be delivered to Blackbow Prison to be held there until the time of his trial, the other men walked to the edge of the swamp and each began to move forward, escorting Talamar.

Captain Arnhast approached Berodach.

“Twas a pleasure to serve with the legendary Berodach of the Black Guard. I do hope we never meet like this again, though.”

They both chuckled. Serving as a member of the Black Guard in service to the kingdom was an honor, but it was also one most Sentinels would rather avoid.

“I hope so, as well. You’ve served well, Arnhast. You do the Sentinels proud as a very talented Captain.”

As the last of the men moved just out of sight around a bend in the road, Captain Arnhast placed his hand on his dagger.

“By the way, Talamar sends you the greatest of regards.” Arnhast then drew the dagger and sunk it between the gaps on Berodachs armor at his armpit. He twisted the twelve-inch blade as it entered and struck the man’s heart.

Berodachs eyes widened as he realized Talamar had, without a doubt, used magic to take control of the minds of the Sentinels and Black Guardsmen.

Gyr flew down from the tree tops, screeching. He landed beside Berodach just as Captain Arnhast slit his own throat. The screeches changed into wails of pain. Berodach, his master, and friend, died in his arms.

Slowly, a look of confusion fell on Gyr’s face. He looked at Berodach, his head tilting to the side. He stood and looked around then transformed back into a Falcon. Gyr took flight and headed towards the mountains, his name, and his memories as a familiar fading to black.

The falcon flew until moved below caught its eye. Field mice. It dove downward.

Berodachs Mace


Part III: Long


Part III: Long


As Lyse drove home, she started thinking about her heritage, her family, her home. Hardly anyone knew her heritage. If they did, she would have never been able to attend University or gain a job in her chosen profession without her heritage tainting that.

She knew it was important to not forget that she was, mostly, a demigod. Her powers lent mostly to the benign side. She could see ghosts, specters and the like since she was the granddaughter of Death.  She could sense the energies and powers of those not wholly mortal. She could even resist those powers to a point.

She also possessed the power to manipulate the element of water, to a point. That was from her mother, who had been a white witch and healer before her death. Water meant life, healing, clarity. How her father, the son of Death and her mother, a white witch healer, had come together, she will never know.  They never really talked about how they met or how they fell in love. Lyse had assumed it was not only a good memory but also a painful one.

She pulled into her driveway and drove the length of gravel road lined with pine trees. Her family, which included herself, her parents and her brother Kevorach, seemed happy back when they all lived together. They had all lived in a stone house that stood 2 stories. It had a full basement and attic as well. She could remember her father telling her about when the house was built. It housed the family who were servants of the Priest who served the Necropolis. The stone had been found all locally in the county, as the quarry there had been rich in many types of stone.

This stone house sat and the bottom of a very large hill. Though its name was Mount Finis, and many would call it a mountain, it in truth, was not. Atop Mount Finis sat the Necropolis, the very first temple dedicated to Death. It was nothing but a crumbled ruin now, but in its time it had been a grand stone structure. Rooms upon rooms, halls, chambers and more burrowed into the hill made it a large and grandiose structure dedicated to Death and all that came with it.

Many of the old chambers in the hill became tombs dedicated to the important people from the surrounding countryside. Each one inturned there was given a grand ritual of arcane rites and many treasures were buried with them.

All of that, was in turn, to honor death and to bless that person’s passage into the next realm. Khaeron, the Chief ferryman, would take his payment from the tomb and then escort the soul to its place before the god of death. Here, the soul was judged in just one of the many trials it would face before finding its final place of rest.

Over the centuries, grave robbers had stolen nearly all that was within the Necropolis, and the temple was slowly destroyed by man and nature.

It wasn’t until the fourth revival that the gods revealed themselves again and established an actual hierarchy. This led to new temples being built, and then it lead to the lineage of Kings being established. King Rashanath formed the Noble Council, which placed regions under the control of a Noble House. The Noble Council evolved over time and quickly held the chosen representatives of the people and government, not just the Nobility of the kingdom.

King Basuin gave much of the power of the kingdom to the Noble Council but established the King’s Council, which was made up of chosen Priests, as well as Councilmen that held a great deal of influence on the kingdom. These Counselors became among the highest officials in the land.

Which was just another reason Lyse hid her heritage, she didn’t want worshippers and politicians coming and taking over her entire life.

As she parked beside her home, she saw someone on the large wooden porch. She was tired from a long day and was hoping this wasn’t something she was going to have to deal with for long, but as she got out of her car and moved up the stone steps she realized who it was waiting for her and she broke into a huge smile.

“Uncle Khaeron!” She dashed up the last few steps and practically leapt into his arms for a hug. Most others would have shuttered to do so. Khaeron was the Chief Ferryman beyond the Veil and he looked the part.

He wore a black leather duster with fur cuffs. His long black hair looked like dreadlocks that hung around his shoulders, and he wore a black top hat. His face was that of a skull with fangs and sharp teeth.

“Heya Kiddo! How’s life?” He said as he hugged her back. He might look scary, but he loved his grandniece as if she were his own.

Lyse let go and smiled even brighter if it were possible. “It’s going great. I love my job, my friends. Kev and I eat breakfast every Saturday down at Marjories. Sometimes he has time to meet me for dinner, too.”

She unlocked the door and went into her house, Khaeron following behind her. As she did, his very long yellow belly ball python followed in and moving quickly cut Lyse off. The snake made a mewling noise.

“I’m sorry, Sunny. I’ve missed you too.” Lyse bent down and rubbed the snake on the head. She sort of shivered in excitement then slithered around Lyse’s hand. After getting her bit of love from Lyse she slithered off to the porch and curled up in a beam of sunlight.

Sunny was actually a lost soul that Khaeron had found wandering the lands beyond the veil. Her time in the Wilds of the Veil had transformed her into a snake and Khaeron took her to be judged, but she had forgotten who she was or why she had been out in the wilds, to begin with. She asked to be returned to Khaeron as a snake and he agreed to take her and watch over her. She was like Khaerons child, and he watched over her vigilantly, but she also watched over him and was mighty impressive.

Lyse offered to make tea. He declined but said she could make some for herself if she wanted. Then the two chose to sit on the deck out back, as it was a gorgeous evening and Lyse loved the sun. Khaeron didn’t mind it all that much, which was odd for a death deity, he supposed.

Roscoe and Emmett loved it when Khaeron came to visit. The skull-faced Hell Hounds been a gift from Khaeron, after all. They remembered him and loved him as much as they did Lyse.

As the sun set and the moon rose in the sky, they talked about old memories and new and just enjoyed visiting, as families often do.

As the moon rose higher above them, small orbs of light became visible all around them. Many of them were just fireflies, but Khaeron and Lyse saw more than the fireflies. They saw orbs of white, blue, green, yellow and red. Each one was a piece of energy interacting with the world from beyond the veil. A lot of it was just excess spirit energy floating out in the world. A stray memory from a ghost or spirit. Stray energy from a spirit passing on, or a soul trying to communicate one last thing before passing over.

They were called spirit orbs, and each one could be a multitude of things. Most Spirit Orbs weren’t actual spirits, but more or less pieces and parts that moved away from their original place of origin or purpose. Eventually that energy was absorbed and rejoined the collective energy that fueled magic and other things beyond mortal comprehension.

When Lyse was a child, she had simply thought they were all just different types of fireflies, but found it even more beautiful to realize it was spiritual energy flowing in and around them all.

Sunny had wrapped around Khaerons shoulders as the night had rolled in, and she slept lazily about them now as he stood.

“I suppose I should get back to the Land of the Dead. I can’t leave all the work for the rest of the ferrymen.”

Lyse stood and hugged Khaeron tightly. “Thank you for coming to visit. I miss my family.”

“Any time you need us, kiddo, you know what to do. We will come.”

“I know, but I hate to bother you guys. You do important things.”

“Every soul is important, Lyse, including yours. That’s what we do in serving the dead, we make sure every soul matters.”

Khaeron transformed before her eyes into pure light and was gone as suddenly as he would have arrived. Being a deity had its advantages.

Part II: Poison



Part Two: Poison


“I know it’s wrong. I know it’s bad for me, but I can’t stop myself. It’s right there and then, I’m right back to my old habits.  Before all of this, I wasn’t in control. I was beaten down and broken by the world.  I hated my job, I hated my folks. I started to just hate the entire world. But this, this I could control, or at least I thought so.”

Lyse listened intently and made notes as her patient talked. Malcolm had worked for the Department of Magical Usage, and as a government employee, he was low on the totem pole. It was sad really. One of those stories that could break your heart. Lyse couldn’t let that change how she treated Malcolm, though. He was an addict, and thus, he needed to be treated kindly, but in a professional manner.

As an Alchemist, Malcolm sat in a lab and made potions, poisons, and the like for the Sentinels to use. The Sentinels were the enforcers of the laws handed down by the gods and their chosen ones. It was hard working with a government whose laws were based on the words and pronouncements of gods and goddesses, priests and priestesses.

Malcolm, when he had decided he’d had enough, started making some potions and tonics to use off duty. He used them to feel better, to feel in control. It, of course, resulted in his arrest, his being fired, and eventually his death.

Malcolm had sold his soul to a sorcerer for stronger ingredients than he could get at his government lab on a public campus. The sorcerer made the deal, and convinced Malcolm to make extra to sell. The rest of the story, as they say, is history.

Malcolm had decided to get help after he had died from an overdose, but he remained animated. The Mages and Healers were trying hard to return Malcolm to life, but nothing seemed to really work. None of the rites and rituals placed him at rest.

The Black Guard were hunting down the sorcerer with the Sentinels, but he remained elusive. Until then, Malcolm was remanded to the hospital. He continued to crave the potions that had ended his life, and by some chance, hoped he could be restored to life if the sorcerer was ever caught.

“I know it’s hard, Malcolm, but you know that these cravings are just an after affect of your condition. You can no longer physically derive pleasure from them, and though you mentally crave them, you can’t really enjoy them.”

“I know, and that’s what makes it so damn frustrating! I’m just bones held together by magic! I can’t do anything like I used to, and yet, my mind and spirit are afflicted with this hunger to continue on doing what I did in life.”

“Have you found something else to try and use your time on? It can be helpful t have a hobby to redirect your energies and frustrations.”

“I’ve started playing Chess again.  I used to play it all the time before work demanded more and more of my time. Charlie, the werewolf in 604, he’s pretty good. We play everyday now.”

“That’s great, Malcolm. Try focusing on other things. Chess is an excellent activity to help you focus on other things. This week, you should try to find a few more activities to do that you used to enjoy. Maybe read a book? But keep playing Chess with Charlie. I think that’ll do him a world of good.”

Lyse smiled at Malcolm as he left.  He was one of her better patients, and she was being truthful when she said that Chess with Malcolm would be good for Charlie. Charlie rarely interacted with others, but when he did, he was always aggressive, or worse.

As Lyse sat at her desk to type up her notes she felt accomplished for the day. Most days the feeling of accomplishment was hard fought and hard earned, but today, today was a good day.


For those who do not know, there is a challenge called Inktober that challenges an artist to take a prompt and create an ink sketch for each day of October.

My friend, Sarah, does this challenge every year and has for several years. This year, however, her art spoke to me and I started writing a story piecing sketches together to make scenes for the story.

The plan was to share it all once the story was done, but I’ve wanted to resurrect this blog for a while and decided that this project would be the perfect excuse.


Part I: Run


RUN! It was all she could think as she moved down the path at full speed. It was early morning and the fog clung to the forest and its bright tapestry of changing leaves.  She blew out a puff of warm breath as the fallen leaves crunched under her feet. She heard the wild beasts just behind her as they ran to catch up. She could feel their hot breath behind her, and it spurred her to run faster.  

The sun began to burn the fog away and warm the forest around her.  She risked a look towards the sun and realized her mistake as she tripped over a root sticking up on the hiker’s path. She fell forward, unable to stop the fall or her forward momentum.

She tucked her head down and ended up in a forward roll. She popped back up, but it was too late, the creatures were on her.

Roscoe and Emmett were on her in a flash, pinning her down and licked her face all over.  They slobbered on her and refused to let her up.

“Gross, guys! Ugh!”  She shoved them off. “What have I told you about the slobbery kisses?!?!”

They whined at her and bumped against her legs as she got up.  They’d been her near constant companions in the forests since she was a small child. Her uncle and left them with her to help her get over the loss of her grandmother.  Most would call them ugly, but she loved them as closely as she had anything or anyone.

Their skulled faces made them looked like ferocious monsters, but they were only mean if they needed to protect someone they loved.

Lyse looked at the pups and just smiled.  She couldn’t be mad at them.  They were her best friends and knew her better than most living or dead people.

“Alright, let’s go.”  She gestured down the path and started to jog. Roscoe and Emmett just trotted along, watching and waiting in case they were needed.  They weren’t just pets, they were also guardians.  Her grandfather was a god, the god of Death. His power was great, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from losing the human female he had loved for nearly 75 years.

Death can only watch and then ferry the souls off to the underworld. He did not have the power to save those who were fated to die. When he met Myrcalla, he was so tired of his place, of not having someone to love.

He had brothers, he could choose any one of them to take his place.  And he did. Mortis had been a ferryman. Mortis escorted souls from their place of death to Death himself, and then Death took them onward.  He would either send them to eternal paradise or eternal torment, or at least the gates that lead to the lands beyond.  He was a doorman and an escort.

Lyse remembered her grandmother and grandfather fondly. Spending many an evening visiting with them and talking.  Death, who took the name Satibah and started living as a mortal with Myrcalla, letting Mortis take his place. Khaeron took Mortis’ place.

Lyse rounded the corner to her home and slowed to a light trot. She could still remember the time her grandfather had tried to plan an anniversary dinner with the entire family.  Nothing went right and in the end, they had to sit in the dark and eat cold spaghetti.  It was her grandmother’s favorite story to tell when the family was able to get together. She smiled sadly as she stopped at the gate to her family home she had inherited.

Her Father, Berodach, was a soldier. He served to fight those who would circumvent death itself. You don’t get to break the rules, or the Black Guard came and fixed things.

Emmett and Roscoe bounded up the stone steps and waited for Lyse to get to the door and let them in.  Once she did, they galloped to the kitchen to their bowls.

She took the stairs to the second floor two at a time.  She wanted a hot shower before she went to work.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2

My wife and I went to see Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 with my friends last night.
Unlike most others, I liked it better than the first.
Now, Something that has been bothering me is the obvious change of Peter Quill/Star Lords parentage. In the original source material Star Lord is the son of J’Son a Spartoi from the planet Spartax, and their King.
Why did they change his father to Ego, the living Planet? I do not know,  but it was an interesting change, and certainly made things a lot more dire and Peter a lot more important in the Galactic scheme.
Yondu and the Ravagers, Stakar, Yondu’s death and then his funeral. It made me cry, but damn if it wasn’t amazing.
And Baby Groot. Stole the whole show! It was just amazing.

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