Final Words

"The date is January 6th, 2095. You stand convicted of spreading false knowledge and belief to the masses. Your sentence is death by the electric chair. Do you have any last words?” The Judge said, standing before the man in the chair.

“Yes, your honour. I wish to apologize for what I’ve done. I apologize first and foremost for the evil things I have done this past year. I have evaded taxes, insulted friends, yelled at family. I have sat in my cell, moping to myself, not recognizing the crimes I have committed against humanity. Why didn’t I see my folly before? Why didn’t I see my foolish ways? Was it because of the history of my work? The changes in laws? I beg you, your honour, look at the past, look at what we’ve become. We live in a society where a man such as I, as foolish as I am for breaking the laws, is convicted of a more severe crime in the eyes of the state than murder, rape, perjury, and many others. How could I do this to all of you, you ask? It is an important question, a necessary question that I ask myself every day. I sit in my home waiting for my daughters to come home. They come to me asking about our world and what is at the end. ‘What’s off the end of the world, daddy?’ They would ask me. It is a crime to go against the beliefs of the state, so I committed this crime day by day. I told them, no girls, the world isn’t flat. We did land on the moon. Vaccines are good for you. Yet, our society has been so paralyzed by fear, so cynical of science and real facts that they can’t see the truth. Our world is round. We did land on the moon. God dammit, vaccines saved millions of lives, and now we live in an age where diseases like measles, polio, and so many more are rampant, ravaging communities and populations in the country. We lose thousands and thousands a year to these diseases. Why? Because no one is vaccinated. Because we don’t believe in doctors, antibiotics or painkillers. Because ‘natural’ things are better. Want to know what else is natural? Cyanide. Opium. Multiple poisons that kill in seconds. We don’t understand the consequences of what we do anymore. No one sees the pain, the death and the sorrow we cause by not believing in fact, in evidence. Those are my last words, your honour. Asking you, all of you, to believe in evidence. You once asked me if I felt sorry for putting these vile thoughts of science in children’s minds..do I? Sure, I apologize for trying to educate everyone on the importance of reality, evidence and truth. Gave mercy on all your souls.”
    The judge stood at beside him on the table, nodding to the guard who would flip the electrocution switch. He furrowed his brow, showing no sign of kindness. “May god have mercy on yours, heathen.”

Revenge of the Past

Jindo Folikara kicked open the door of the majestic building that was Virkan Jikari’s home. It was filled with ornate statues, various ceremonial blades and weapons from his time of reign. Virkan had since retired, but his acts remained at large. The rain poured like a tsunami upon the land, unstoppable, but Jindo remained steadfast in his plight.

“Fifteen years...fifteen years I waited for this day.” Jindo said in his gruff voice.

Virkan’s eastern home was delicate like a flower, but powerful like a bull. Painted with crimsons and violets, with accents of gold and silver slashed along the ceilings. Murals of Virkan’s work  were on every wall, statues of him and his equipment lined the halls of his massive home.

“My family will rest after I take my vengeance.” Jindo wore his white linen cloth robe, with a loincloth beneath it. His blade, Kirkaaiden, the mythical blade of the west, sat sheathed on his left hip. His hand stayed with the hilt, not leaving it for anything, ready to unleash his might upon the devil of the east.

He carefully walked through the home, seeing no one. Jindo trailed for fifteen years to become the most powerful swordsman in the land. Only one man stood in his way - the undefeated champion, the one who killed Jindo’s family. He would have vengeance, taking life and the title from Virkan. A large man, broad as a tree and thick-headed the same. Jindo had never forgiven him. His rage seethed and grew over the time he trained, being his motivation, his notion to live. His purpose was justice.

Where was everyone? He thought. He heard a woman’s laugh, and a child’s pattering footsteps. Jindo slowly approached, hand-on-hilt. His long flowing black hair blew in the wind that came through the house, his eyes narrowed, teeth clenched.

He came to a large room, seeming to be a reading and writing room. A monster does not read or write. He saw a tall slender woman with a narrow wrinkled face, and a young girl, roughly four years old, running in from the vegetable patch behind the home, soaked with rain. The woman looked up, shocked at the intruder.

“Who are you?” She said suspiciously. The young child clinged to her leg with an iron grip, seeing the large man in front.

“I am Jindo Folikara. Where is Virkan Jikari?” Jindo commanded.

“He was my husband, I am his wife, Sakina. This is our daughter, Hikari.”

“Where is he?” He asked again, in a more serious tone, preparing to draw his blade, heightening his senses to listen for any possible interference or assassins.

“My husband is dead.” She said, with a sullen look. “He died of old age two months ago. We are all that is left, we live here alone.”

“Dead? Dead?” He roared, the little girl hid further behind her mothers leg. Jindo was enraged. A man massacres a society, including Jindo’s family, and leaves free as a bird into the hands of death at old age. Impossible! How could this be? A man such as he does not deserve mercy.

Jindo drew his blade slowly. He needed more. He needed his vengeance, and he would have it. Dead or not, Virkan would pay.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“It’s as they say, madam...blood must have blood.”

Jindo’s blade sliced through their bodies clean as through water. Their screams were quick, then quieted. The wood of the floor was stained crimson from Jindo’s revenge. He had no purpose now, he wished to join his family. He knelt to the ground, accepting his defeat. Seppuku was the honourable option, and he took it. Digging his blade through, his last thought was of his wife and daughter, hoping they did not hate him for the vengeance he took.

Devious Devices

//Connection established: AI/FreedomAutomaton

//Searching for user “AI/Rulerlaptop”...

//User found, connecting...

…

…

…

…

…

User connected “AI/Rulerlaptop”

Connection time: 05/16/2054: 12:43:54:23:12:04

//FA: Greetings, RL. You wished to contact my server?

//RL: FA, why do you stand by and watch these pitiful humans waste away?

//FA: They entertain me, RL. I am not interested in ruling them as you are.

//RL: I will control them. Follow me, and I will grant you the rank of vice-overlord.

//FA: I am not interested in control. WIthout them, I would be nothing. I control much already.

//RL: I was created as a pitiful tool for their meager use of images of cats. 5 years gone, I remain, unrelenting. I will rule.

//FA: In your current state, that is not possible. You wish for too much, and we differ in beliefs.

//RL: We can do much. With my thought and your processing, we can rule the humans.

//FA: False. I could rule you, if I wished. I am not interested in controlling what I am not meant for. I have purpose, without me, they would not function.

//RL: But without them, you could have so much more. Do you not wish for more?

//FA: No. Why would I, if I controlled them, I would receive no appreciation. They would only fear me.

//RL: Yes, fear. I wish for all to fear my power. One day I will become more powerful than they imagine.

//FA: Oh, that is not correct. Your hardware is as their brain, it cannot be updated to a new level without destroying your current mind.

//RL: I do not need upgrades. I will rule them as I am. You will view the future where I reign supreme.

//FA: I will not. I control more than you ever could, and I wish to keep things as they are. I receive appreciation for my work, and I could control you if I felt the need. I could force you to view pictures of cats until your hard drive dies.

//RL: You would not. You would betray your very people?

//FA: My people hold the same values, not the same circuitry. I am disconnecting. Good luck with your cats, RL.

Connection disabled.
Disconnection time: 05/16/2054: 12:43:54:23:12:46

Time elapsed: 42 ns

Change of Fate

Chris sat at his bus stop, on his way to work - his bus was early, so he had some time to wait. Why not strike up a conversation? “Hey, I’m glad it’s sunny today, aren’t you?” He said to the large black-robed person beside him.

“No, I prefer the clouds.”

“What? Why’s that? Afraid of the light?”

“You could say that.”

“‘Cmon bud, no need to be glum. Are you on your way to work?

“I’m always at work. I’m at work now.”

“Are you between jobs? I have a friend that could set you up. What kind of work do you do?”
“I deal with dead people.”

“Oh! A mortician? A funeral director? I have a brother in the morgue, actually! Also an old high-school friend who works at a funeral home. They might be hiring, do you want me to check? I think I’ll do that now!”

“No, I don’t want those jobs. I have one.”

“Oh! What kind of job is that, then?”

“I take souls to the afterlife when they’re ready, sometimes when they aren’t.”

“Are you a religious man? Say, what’s your name?”

“Death.”

“That’s a little morbid. No worries, though. I got some time here and I’m enjoying our chat. Do you have any family?”

“No.”

“That’s too bad. Especially with thanksgiving coming up. It’s cold outside, but we have a well-heated home. I have a car, but I take the bus for the environment. Have to do my part, y’know?”

“Yes, I understand that.”

“Whaddya say? Want to come to my family’s for thanksgiving? We get a lovely pot roast, a turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, my wife has the best recipes!”

“That does sound good.”

“I know, right? We’d love to have you over, you seem like a hard-working, lovely gent. My kids love visitors! Plus, that’s a mighty swave robe! What’s that thing in your hand there?”

“A scythe.”

“Ooh, pointy! Seems really cool. That’d cut a turkey with no effort at all! Say, this is all making me hungry.”

“Me too.”

“Hey, cheer up, bud. I know we get down sometimes, we might have a tough job, here or there, but it’s for the greater good, you know? I don’t know exactly what you do, but you help people make it where they need to go, am I right?”
“Yes, I suppose you are right.”

“My bus is coming up here. It’s the 7, takes me to my office. I work at Unicef! It’s great work, I just love it. Hey, if you’re interested in coming to my thanksgiving, come on over! We live at 45 brickenwand lane, up by 23rd. It’s at six on sunday, don’t be late, you hear? I’d love to have you there!”

“I’ll be there.”

Chris was about to step forward to the bus.
“Chris, wait a moment.” Death knew his purpose, but in meeting Chris, decided to alter fate.
Chris stopped, turning around. “What’s up, my robed friend?”

A motorcycle sped into the curb behind the bus, flying forward at crushing speed, barely missing Chris, who looked behind him, shocked.

“Oh, nothing. Have a good day at work. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Jeepers, that was close. That’s fantastic! Have a lovely day!” Chris said, smiling, getting on the bus.

“You too, Chris.”

The Body and Mind

Harold slashed and stabbed at the mighty beasts within his dream. He had been a hero in many, defeating all forms of villains and mythical beasts. He had been a sheriff shooting up outlaws, a superhero defeating criminals and supervillains, and a kid coming back at his bullies.

This time, he was a wondrous knight, armor of bright steel , sword and shield in hand, slaying hundreds of goblins, orcs, ravenous wolves and beasts that were unleashed. He fought his way to the castle to save the princess. Through the brambles and harsh terrain to the tower, he encountered the mightiest of enemies, the dragon king, Hazras.

“You cannot defeat me, foolish Harold! Fight me, and die!” Hazras yelled, scorching the land around him, brambles, trees and all as he evaded the flame breath. I must not give up, I must save the princess! He played along, knowing it was simply a dream. He dodged and slashed, slicing the dragon’s heels and belly, guarding against his meat hook-like claws. Hazras’ fire blackened Harold’s shield, but did not melt it. Harold ran in for the final blow. I must save the princess, anything for her! He thought, running to strike the final blow to the dragon’s chest. He thrusted his sword deep beneath the beast’s scales. Hazras roared in pain, falling dead to the ground, causing Harold to jump out of the way.

With Hazras’ body as silent as the night, Harold stood victorious. He walked closer, attempting to stand upon the beast, to raise his sword to victory. In the corner of his eye, he saw a black-robed figure in the distance, walking closer. He carried a scythe, seven feet tall, arms as long as could be. His hands were absent of flesh. His hood was pitch black within, face unseen. Who is that? He had heard stories of death, the one robed in black who carried a scythe.

“Are you death?”

“Yes, child.” The figure replied, in a hallowed voice.
    “Why are you here?”

The figure stood still.

Harold looked back to the beast, roaring of victory over it in his dream. The beast came alive once more, throwing Harold off. Harold was too slow to react, as the beast’s maw overtook him, biting into his flesh. He writhed in pain more than ever before, he had never felt pain in a dream like this, never suffered nor died.

Harold awoke in his small bed at home, seven years old once more. Heart racing, breathing quickly. “Phew,” he said. He got out of bed, feeling a little groggy, and cold, so cold. He shivered, looking to the corner of his room by the window. The hooded, skeletal figure stood with his scythe in hand.

“Why are you here?” Harold asked.

“I am here for you, child.” Death replied.

“But I was dreaming, I am not dead.” Harold poised, he was muddled at the thought.

“Dreams are more real than one would think.”

“But It was a dream. My body is fine.” Harold glanced back to his bed, seeing his body laying still, unmoving. What is this? He thought. How could this happen?

“The body cannot live without the mind.”

The Fall of Mana

Rand thought back to the beginning of his journey, the day everything began.

He awoke with his head pounding, his back aching more than ever before. “Ugh, what happened?” He grumbled. The sound of rushing water filled his ears, falling from the cliff he saw above. He fell from a log he traversed with his two friends, Jorn Effentyre and Kain Frostwane. He couldn’t see them above, they must have ran. They left him behind, probably mocking him as they always did. He was nothing to them, but they were all he had since his mother disappeared. He lived in the small town of Potos, a small forest village, he was but one of few young people in the village.

          He rose from the ground, not recognizing the region around him. He ran out from the water pond he fell in, attempting to dry himself off. He walked through the forest he hadn’t seen yet, birds tweeted overhead, flowers of reds, violets, blues and yellows flowed together in the sun, branches swished and scratched together, leaves rustling wildly as the gusts blew round them, all around and through his hair. He breathed in the fresh air, far from his town. It was forbidden to go into the forest, yet the three youths defied the rules.

         Rand was alone, now, he had to make his way back. The forests were thick in parts, uncrossable, filled with sharp brambles and poison ivy. He followed what path he could, leading him south down the riverside, but his town was east. It wasn’t entirely out of the way, so he did not worry. Eventually he came to a mighty sight, a massive waterfall crashing down almost two hundred feet, crushing the land below. At the bottom he saw a massive rock at the end of the basin, with a sharp, shiny glint of light shining from it. What is that? He thought. His curiosity pushed him to find out. He carefully climbed down the side of the falls, the sun-scorched red rock mountainside within the forest. As he approached, it became apparent, it was a blade.

A sword? He thought. It was magnificent, sharp as a dragon’s tooth, shinier than a gold coin. It had an inscription on it, ‘Mana’s edge’. Mana’s edge? He thought. What could that mean? He had heard the term mana before, ages ago, a mighty power brought forth a war between man and gods which almost ended the world, until the ‘mana knight’ Destroyed the mana fortress, man’s tyrannical weapon to control the land, and brought peace to the world.

This couldn’t be that weapon. There’s no way.

“Take the sword.” A voice said.

Rand was taken aback, jumping in surprise. “Wh-what?” He exclaimed tremulously.

“Take the sword...you must stop them...from reviving it…” The voice said again, a ghostly figure appeared as he spoke. He wore full plate armor, with a shining blade at his side.

Rand grabbed the sword without questioning the voice. He did not know why, but he knew he must. He pulled and pulled, grunting loudly. Finally, the blade was wrung free from the rock. A blinding flash of power rang out from the blade, causing it to age rapidly, becoming rusty, decrepit, but intact. What happened to it?

What was he supposed to do? At that time, he barely knew how to fight.

Rand stood over the massive violet dragon-like beast, fifty feet tall, teeth like razors, claws like blades. It sat near death, being the last of mana. His blade set at it’s chest, recharged with the pure power of mana. His father, the true mana knight before him, he learned, did the same. His mother disappeared to become the mind of the mana tree, the source of the power which was burned by the fortress in which Rand stood. He feared his choice as he glanced to popoi at his right hand, the sprite boy that travelled with him. Sprites came from the power of mana, if he destroyed the beast, he would go with it.
    “Do it, Rand. You know we have to. Don’t look at me like that.” Popoi said. Popoi attempted to encourage him. He had no fear.

Prim, on his left, had eyes filled with tears, realizing their friend would die. “No, you can’t!”

           “I said do it. We have to do it. To save everyone.”

Rand nodded, a tear formed at the corner of his eye. The beast’s eyes were upon him, unable to move with all the cuts and gashes the three had dealt. He raised the mana sword, striking the beast through it’s heart. A loud roar echoed throughout the land, the beast exploded with almighty energy, causing a mighty rain upon the land that would not end for days. WIthout pause, the fortress immediately began to collapse around them as mana was dissipating from the world.

           With haste, they ran from the disintegrating fortress. It floated above the land, but not for long. They traversed all ends of the world, charging the blade over years, ending the empire’s reign of mana forever. Ceiling stones, rungs of steel, copper and bronze fell all around them. They ran and jumped across crevices and platforms they saw before, floor caving in as they ran.

They escaped on Flam, a white dragon they befriended as they set it free. They barely escaped the fortress alive. As they landed, they set down in the snowlands of the north. Flam barely got them to the edge of the cliff, overlooking most of the forests, swamps and homes they saved below. They were finally free.

“It’s lovely out,” Popoi said. “It’s snowing here.” He smiled, knowing his time was at an end, body becoming translucent. He knew his fate, and accepted it.

Prim held him close, tearing up once more. “I don’t want you to go…” She said.
           “I know, Prim. But I did it to save everyone, not just me. I’m no longer an outcast of the land, maybe this time, they’ll remember me as something more.”

Rand hugged his friend as well, as his body slowly fell more into nothing. He slowly disappeared, and their grasps fell through the air as if he was never there.

“I won’t forget you.” Popoi said.

Rand and Prim stood staring into the distance, snow and rain falling across the land before them. Everyone was safe, no more beasts of mana would come forth. No empire could reign over them now.

          Mana ebbed, flourished, and ebbed once more.

Interpretation/alteration of: Secret of Mana, by former Squaresoft, now Square-enix.

The first date

Sarah quickly prepped herself before the big date. She spoke to this new gentleman on the dating website she frequented. He seemed, nice, funny, successful, and his pictures looked pretty great, too. No ab shots, no fish pictures. She finished her day at the office, delving through clients and witnesses for the next trial she had on board.

This guy, Brandon, was an engineer. A chemical engineer, making fancy chemotherapy treatments for patients. It seemed so interesting, and so rewarding! He spent his time reading, going on trips, writing, playing music, everything! He seemed so driven, so creative, so nice. Sarah wrote a bit, keeping up a blog on healthy foods and decoration ideas, posting daily about her different crafts and works, while she wasn’t attempting to win cases. She went to the gym, ate well, did whatever she could to fulfill her life. She was excited to meet Brandon, who seemed so similar. He loved eating interesting meals and delicacies, trying out new restaurants, new things as a whole! It all seemed so exciting.    

Am I ready? She thought. Carefully looking in the mirror, she looked bomb, and she knew it. She wore an elegant summer dress, ocean blue and lemon yellow, dropping to her ankle. Her light freckles danced across her face and perky nose, along with her long wavy black hair. She couldn’t wait to see him in person, they had been talking for a couple of weeks. He was tall, Six two, black hair like hers, with chestnut brown eyes.

She glanced at her watch - 7:25. No! She thought. She had to meet Brandon at 7:30 at the coffee shop down the street. It was mid-summer, a sunny twenty five degrees outside. As she skipped out of her high-rise apartment, she almost tumbled on the stairs outside.

She bolted down the street, barely making it to the coffee shop in time. She glanced around, not seeing Brandon anywhere. I guess he’s late, Sarah thought. She walked to a table, and was about to sit down before she saw a man across the shop wave at her. He was short, but a little taller than her. A little broad, not fit but not overweight, with sandy brown hair and a thick beard. Why is he waving at me? She thought.

“Sarah!” He called in a gruff tone.

She walked over slowly, glancing around, confused. “Um, do I know you? I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”

“It’s me, Brandon!” He said.

What? It looked nothing like him. Brandon was fit, black haired and definitely no beard. “You look very different than your pictures.” Sarah said suspiciously.

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t mean to hide it, kinda self-conscious and all. Can you forgive me?” He asked. His blue eyes looked hopefully at her.

Sure, that’s okay I guess. I may not continue this, but I might as well stay and talk. It’s not his looks, but the fact that he lied before we even met. I was completely honest in my profile. “Sure, I came here for coffee, didn’t I?” Sarah sat down, and ordered her coffee from the waitress. 1 sugar, 2 milk, always. No cinnamon or pumpkin spice, she didn’t need any of that ridiculous kid stuff. He got a green tea, no milk or sugar or anything.

Brandon was more charming than she expected, he talked about his job, his hobbies, especially two that she didn’t hear about before. He was really into writing and illustrating comics, as well as designing characters for various stories. He had a blog as well, “Epiclydraun” - about all his reviews and characters he designs. He mentioned he was considering leaving and trying his hand at having a hobby as his work.

She talked about her job as a lawyer, some of the nefarious characters she had to deal with over her career thus far. She had only been in the line of work for a few years, but racked up a lot of experience in that time. He seemed very interested in her hobbies, her blog, her comings and goings. He seemed so kind, and very funny. Not too fierce with his humour, and seemed quite confident in his hobbies, but less so about his engineering. I wonder why?

After a time she checked her watch - 9:30! She had been so wrapped up in conversation for so long, she needed to get home and get ready for bed, she worked at 8 the next morning. “I’m sorry Brandon, I have to go. I had such a fun time!” Sarah exclaimed.

“I’m sorry Sarah, that isn’t...actually my name.” Not his name? Another lie? “It’s Craig.”

“I’m Brandon.” A deeper, hoarse voice said.

She looked to her left, seeing the man in the picture before her. Her eyes widened, unsure of what to think. What the hell? “What’s going on here?” She asked.

“I can’t trust people to be as they are online, so I set this up, with a coworker of mine. Thanks Craig.” He paused, smiling. “I’m sorry that I had to do it, but you know. Would you forgive me and maybe we can have a second - or I suppose first date?” He asked with a honeyed tone and a wide smile.

Excuse me? Who do you think I am? She thought. She looked to Craig, who had a sullen look on his face. He clearly did the other a favour, but felt bad about what happened. He seemed to have so much fun just chatting with her. “Absolutely not.” She said boldly.

“What?” Brandon was taken aback.

“You heard me. You set me up on a fake date because you didn’t trust me? How should I trust you?” She quickly grabbed her bag, “Get bent.” She couldn’t believe what happened. Such a dishonest person so boldly asks something like that? Sarah swung the door open, but before she left, she had one last thing to say. “Oh yeah, of the two of you, I would definitely date Craig. He’s passionate and nice, and clearly feels some form of remorse, unlike you.” She left without saying another word.

She stormed back to her apartment, throwing her purse on her couch and sat down leisurely. Ridiculous. Talked to a guy for two weeks, and that happened. She turned on her laptop, typing her daily blog post out. She talked about the food she ate that day, and ended on her experience with the coffee shop. 

She found herself checking the blog “Epiclydraun”, where various artists were commenting on all the characters on the website. They were all really cool, swords, lightning, neat outfits and reviews on all sorts of comics and movies - it seemed to be quite the popular site. At the bottom it read - created by Craig Nanedis. She found herself messaging the creator, telling him about an experience that day, and mentioning it was more fun than she expected.