It's not really a book, but all the other consistent writers on this site have a depo for their short stories so I figured I'd make one too.
The Unfortunate Summoning
Intro: A desperate queen summons a mighty warrior to defend her. She should've done more research before randomly yoinking someone or something from one plain to another.
Dog Love
Intro: A girl is sad that her dog died and is determined to get him back from the jaws of hell itself.
A Greek Hoplite in King Odin's Court
Intro: A greek hoplite dies honorably, but instead of finding himself in the Elysium Fields, he is instead transported to another people's paradise.
The Unfortunate Summoning
Intro: A desperate queen summons a mighty warrior to defend her. She should've done more research before randomly yoinking someone or something from one plain to another.
Spoiler Alert!
“UNIT ONLINE. AWAITING TARGET ORDER,” the hulking hunk of metal said in a metallic voice.
The mages gaped up at the thing, unsure what they had just summoned. The Precocious Queen on the other hand played with her jeweled necklace and eyed the thing up and down with satisfaction.
“What a marvelous warrior!” The queen daintily lifted her skirts and descended the steps toward it, “Just look at its enormous grandeur!”
Now the mages were gaping at the queen. The construct said nothing at all, just waited for its target order. The thing was as tall as the highest tower in the queen’s castle and as broad as two galleons laid end to end. Its steel plated feet could stomp an elephant flat effortlessly.
The thing was bipedal like a human. It had arms and legs and everything. Electrical plasma currents flowed down its sides as various weapons systems came online.
“AWAITING TARGET ORDER” the thing repeated. When it got no reply, it ran through its databank repeating the request in over five thousand languages one after the other.
“M’lady, I believe it wants to know your will,” the head mage finally managed to gasp.
“Oh wonderful!” The queen clapped, drawing the robot’s attention to her. It swiveled 90 degrees on its waist piece with the whining sound of various electrical engines and motors performing their various functions. “Great warrior! I wish for you to destroy the demon Algorath! He is on his way here now to claim my newborn son as part of a deal I no longer wish to honor! Destroy him! And you shall have whatever you desire!”
A series of clicks and whirs were heard by the gathered assembly as the robot processed the request.
“REQUEST NOT RECOGNIZED. TARGET LOCK VALIDATION FUNCTION: FAILED. AWAITING NEW TARGET ORDER.”
The queen tossed her brown hair over one shoulder and her blue eyes flashed, “Knave! You will obey my order! Destroy the demon Algorath!”
The same series of clicks and whirs were heard by the assembly, “REQUEST AUTHENTICATION FAILED. USER 1 WILL PROVIDE NEW INSTRUCTIONS. AWAITING TARGET ORDER.”
The Precocious queen had half a mind to have her mages blow the thing up, but wasn’t sure it would even work.
Just then a portal opened above the castle, and dark clouds spread across the sky. The massive demon Algorath descended from the sky holding a mighty trident crackling with electricity. Red skin stretched tightly over the demon’s frame like a wetsuit. Black wings sprouted from its back. Its eyes roiled with the flame of a supernova.
The mages immediately refreshed their idea of “massive” as the machine dwarfed the demon by a good five sizes.
“Mighty warrior! There is the demon Algorath! Destroy him!”
“UNIT DESIGNATION UNRECOGNIZED. UNIT DESIGNATION AUTHENTICATION: FAILED. TARGET AUTHENTICATION SUCCEEDED. AWAITING CORRECT UNIT DESIGNATION.”
“You would dare break your solemn pact with ME!” Algorath roared. “I will drag the young queen into the abyss, and feast on her youth for decades!”
Frightened out of her wits the queen screamed at the construct, “Mighty warrior! If you do nothing we will all be destroyed! Destroy the demon Algorath and cast his remains into the abyss!”
“UNIT DESIGNATION UNRECOGNIZED. UNIT DESIGNATION AUTHENTICATION: FAILED. TARGET AUTHENTICATION SUCCEEDED. AWAITING CORRECT UNIT DESIGNATION.”
The construct did nothing. Algorath roared with laughter and leveled his trident at the mages who hastily cast ward spells. It stopped the first attack, but two mages fainted from the effort of holding the ward.
The queen cast about in her mind quickly, trying to figure out what “unit designation meant” finally she just started throwing things out there, “War machine! Battle Beast! Armored Protector!”
“UNIT DESIGNATION UNRECOGNIZED. END USER ERROR DETECTED. INITIATE QUANTUM AUTHORIZATION REQUEST. QUANTUM AUTHORIZATION REQUEST: FAILED. MOTHER STATION NOT IN RANGE.”
Another bolt of lighting from the demon shattered the ward. The demon roared with laughter and reached out and hand to seize the Precocious Queen.
“Pleeeeeassse!” The queen screamed.
“UNIT DESIGNATION UNRECOGNIZED. PLEA PROTOCOL DETECTED. UNIT DESIGNATION PROTOCOL OVERRIDE IN PROGRESS…UNIT DESIGNATION PROTOCOL OVERRIDE SUCCESSFUL. INITIATE COUNTER AGGRESSION PROTOCOLS. COUNTER AGGRESSION PROTOCOL INITIATION SUCCESSFUL. TARGET DESIGNATION FOUND. INITIATE DEFENDER PROTOCOL.”
The hand was inches from the queen when a huge metal plated hand closed around the wrist.
“Fool!” Algorath roared, “I am invincib–”
Algorath roared with surprise and fury as the construct began spinning on its waist unit…without releasing Algorath’s wrist. Round and round the demon went faster and faster spinning high above his intended victims.
A spray of foul smelling liquid showered on the queen and her mages as Algorath lost his lunch.
“TARGET LAUNCH TRAJECTORY MEASUREMENTS COMPLETED. TARGET LAUNCH ANGLE FOUND.”
“Uh oh,” Algorath muttered, as the machine suddenly let go. The queen barely saw the demon leave the construct’s hand. He shot through the portal faster than any catapult round the queen had ever seen.
The portal closed behind him and the sky sealed shut.
“DEFENDER PROTOCOL RESOLVED. NO FURTHER ACTION REQUIRED. UNIT ONLINE. AWAITING TARGET ORDER.”
The queen slowly got to her feet, “Thank you great warrior! You have saved us! I don’t imagine he’ll be back anytime soon! Not with you to defend us!”
“USER 1 INDICATES NO FURTHER ACTION REQUIRED. REQUEST IMMEDIATE TRANSFER BACK TO MOTHER STATION.”
“Oh, you want to go back? Um, I suppose we can always just summon you again if necessary. Calwith, why don’t you send our friend here back to his own time and place?”
“Um, we actually don’t know how to do that, your highness.”
“What!? You figured out how to get it here but not back?”
“Well, your highness, I don’t think it’s actually possible, now that the demon has retreated into the abyss and closed all the portal tears in the area.”
“Well, we’ll just have to keep him then.”
“USER 1 INDICATES RETURN TO MOTHER STATION IMPOSSIBLE. ACTIVATE COMPROMISED UNIT PROTOCOL.”
“What does that mean?”
Calwith shrugged.
“COMPROMISED UNIT PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.”
KAAAAABOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM.
The end.
The mages gaped up at the thing, unsure what they had just summoned. The Precocious Queen on the other hand played with her jeweled necklace and eyed the thing up and down with satisfaction.
“What a marvelous warrior!” The queen daintily lifted her skirts and descended the steps toward it, “Just look at its enormous grandeur!”
Now the mages were gaping at the queen. The construct said nothing at all, just waited for its target order. The thing was as tall as the highest tower in the queen’s castle and as broad as two galleons laid end to end. Its steel plated feet could stomp an elephant flat effortlessly.
The thing was bipedal like a human. It had arms and legs and everything. Electrical plasma currents flowed down its sides as various weapons systems came online.
“AWAITING TARGET ORDER” the thing repeated. When it got no reply, it ran through its databank repeating the request in over five thousand languages one after the other.
“M’lady, I believe it wants to know your will,” the head mage finally managed to gasp.
“Oh wonderful!” The queen clapped, drawing the robot’s attention to her. It swiveled 90 degrees on its waist piece with the whining sound of various electrical engines and motors performing their various functions. “Great warrior! I wish for you to destroy the demon Algorath! He is on his way here now to claim my newborn son as part of a deal I no longer wish to honor! Destroy him! And you shall have whatever you desire!”
A series of clicks and whirs were heard by the gathered assembly as the robot processed the request.
“REQUEST NOT RECOGNIZED. TARGET LOCK VALIDATION FUNCTION: FAILED. AWAITING NEW TARGET ORDER.”
The queen tossed her brown hair over one shoulder and her blue eyes flashed, “Knave! You will obey my order! Destroy the demon Algorath!”
The same series of clicks and whirs were heard by the assembly, “REQUEST AUTHENTICATION FAILED. USER 1 WILL PROVIDE NEW INSTRUCTIONS. AWAITING TARGET ORDER.”
The Precocious queen had half a mind to have her mages blow the thing up, but wasn’t sure it would even work.
Just then a portal opened above the castle, and dark clouds spread across the sky. The massive demon Algorath descended from the sky holding a mighty trident crackling with electricity. Red skin stretched tightly over the demon’s frame like a wetsuit. Black wings sprouted from its back. Its eyes roiled with the flame of a supernova.
The mages immediately refreshed their idea of “massive” as the machine dwarfed the demon by a good five sizes.
“Mighty warrior! There is the demon Algorath! Destroy him!”
“UNIT DESIGNATION UNRECOGNIZED. UNIT DESIGNATION AUTHENTICATION: FAILED. TARGET AUTHENTICATION SUCCEEDED. AWAITING CORRECT UNIT DESIGNATION.”
“You would dare break your solemn pact with ME!” Algorath roared. “I will drag the young queen into the abyss, and feast on her youth for decades!”
Frightened out of her wits the queen screamed at the construct, “Mighty warrior! If you do nothing we will all be destroyed! Destroy the demon Algorath and cast his remains into the abyss!”
“UNIT DESIGNATION UNRECOGNIZED. UNIT DESIGNATION AUTHENTICATION: FAILED. TARGET AUTHENTICATION SUCCEEDED. AWAITING CORRECT UNIT DESIGNATION.”
The construct did nothing. Algorath roared with laughter and leveled his trident at the mages who hastily cast ward spells. It stopped the first attack, but two mages fainted from the effort of holding the ward.
The queen cast about in her mind quickly, trying to figure out what “unit designation meant” finally she just started throwing things out there, “War machine! Battle Beast! Armored Protector!”
“UNIT DESIGNATION UNRECOGNIZED. END USER ERROR DETECTED. INITIATE QUANTUM AUTHORIZATION REQUEST. QUANTUM AUTHORIZATION REQUEST: FAILED. MOTHER STATION NOT IN RANGE.”
Another bolt of lighting from the demon shattered the ward. The demon roared with laughter and reached out and hand to seize the Precocious Queen.
“Pleeeeeassse!” The queen screamed.
“UNIT DESIGNATION UNRECOGNIZED. PLEA PROTOCOL DETECTED. UNIT DESIGNATION PROTOCOL OVERRIDE IN PROGRESS…UNIT DESIGNATION PROTOCOL OVERRIDE SUCCESSFUL. INITIATE COUNTER AGGRESSION PROTOCOLS. COUNTER AGGRESSION PROTOCOL INITIATION SUCCESSFUL. TARGET DESIGNATION FOUND. INITIATE DEFENDER PROTOCOL.”
The hand was inches from the queen when a huge metal plated hand closed around the wrist.
“Fool!” Algorath roared, “I am invincib–”
Algorath roared with surprise and fury as the construct began spinning on its waist unit…without releasing Algorath’s wrist. Round and round the demon went faster and faster spinning high above his intended victims.
A spray of foul smelling liquid showered on the queen and her mages as Algorath lost his lunch.
“TARGET LAUNCH TRAJECTORY MEASUREMENTS COMPLETED. TARGET LAUNCH ANGLE FOUND.”
“Uh oh,” Algorath muttered, as the machine suddenly let go. The queen barely saw the demon leave the construct’s hand. He shot through the portal faster than any catapult round the queen had ever seen.
The portal closed behind him and the sky sealed shut.
“DEFENDER PROTOCOL RESOLVED. NO FURTHER ACTION REQUIRED. UNIT ONLINE. AWAITING TARGET ORDER.”
The queen slowly got to her feet, “Thank you great warrior! You have saved us! I don’t imagine he’ll be back anytime soon! Not with you to defend us!”
“USER 1 INDICATES NO FURTHER ACTION REQUIRED. REQUEST IMMEDIATE TRANSFER BACK TO MOTHER STATION.”
“Oh, you want to go back? Um, I suppose we can always just summon you again if necessary. Calwith, why don’t you send our friend here back to his own time and place?”
“Um, we actually don’t know how to do that, your highness.”
“What!? You figured out how to get it here but not back?”
“Well, your highness, I don’t think it’s actually possible, now that the demon has retreated into the abyss and closed all the portal tears in the area.”
“Well, we’ll just have to keep him then.”
“USER 1 INDICATES RETURN TO MOTHER STATION IMPOSSIBLE. ACTIVATE COMPROMISED UNIT PROTOCOL.”
“What does that mean?”
Calwith shrugged.
“COMPROMISED UNIT PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.”
KAAAAABOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM.
The end.
Dog Love
Intro: A girl is sad that her dog died and is determined to get him back from the jaws of hell itself.
Spoiler Alert!
"I want my dog back." Flavia demanded.
The Book Keeper, a weathered old skeleton that looked like it had seen one too few orthopedic surgeons in its mortal life, looked down at the intrepid young woman.
Sighing it popped open a book, “Name?”
“Flavia Freela.”
“No,” the skeletal scribe clacked through broken teeth. Apparently he’d foregone a few dental visits too. “Not your name. What’s the name of the pooch?”
“Marley,” Flavia answered, hope souring in her breast. This might actually work!
The skeletal scribe flipped back a few pages in silence, "It says here that your dog died peacefully from old age- hang on, how did you get to the underworld? You're not due here for decades."
Flavia glared at him. She glared impressively, "I don't care what it says and you do not want to know the lengths I'll go to."
The skeletal bookkeeper waved a hand dismissively, “You don’t have power here, mortal. This is the land of the dead.”
“Oh yeah? How do you think I got across the river Stix?”
“A boat.”
“The three headed cerberus?”
“I don’t know,” the skeleton threw up its bony hands in an oddly expressive gesture for someone without a face or any visible tendons, “You probably threw them a bone.”
Flavia didn’t say anything. She had, in fact, thrown Cerberus a bone, giving him a few good scratches behind the ear for good measure. She knew a neglected dog when she saw one, and Cerberus knew a dog lover when he smelled one.
“That’s what I thought,” the skeleton clacked, “useless beast.”
Anger flared in Flavia’s eyes, “Useless beast?” Her voice went up an octave, “Useless beast!”
The skeleton leaned back involuntarily as Flavia jumped up onto his desk spilling books onto the floor, “If you had an ounce of humanity left in you, you wouldn’t speak about him like that. All day, every day, for eternity he guards the Underworld. When was the last time he slept? When was the last time you did? When was the last time he ate or received an ounce of love or was fed something better than what passes for kibble in this godforsaken place?”
Flavia reached out a gloved hand and grabbed the skeleton by the neck vertebrae. She shook him like a ragdoll for emphasis as her voice dropped low and dangerous, fury spilling through every word, “If you think for one minute, you bag of bones, that I’m going to let my dear sweet Marley rest here, you got another thing coming mister.”
The faceless denizen of the underworld said nothing, just held its hands out to the side in a placating gesture. Clearly it had never been assaulted by a mortal before and was struggling to find words.
“What's going on here?” A soft feminine voice like a breath of spring spoke behind Flavia. Sighing, the voice continued, “Kindly release Malachai, mortal.”
Flavia released the book keeper who was apparently called Malachai and turned to face the new threat hand on her gun.
The woman standing before her could only be described as rosy, with long cherry blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore a bright green dress reamed with aromatic floral arrangements about the waist. She seemed to glow with passion and life in stark contrast with the dark, mossy ground and shriveled trees that adorned this part of the underworld.
Flavia flicked her eyes back and forth searching out other dangers and noted the direction from which the woman had come. It was easy. Little yellow and white flowers sprang up in her footprints. The line slowly faded toward her as the flowers wilted and returned to dust.
“Thank you, mortal,” the woman said. Her voice easing Flavia’s fears like the gentle fall of warm summer rain.
“Who,” Flavia gulped, “Who are you?”
The woman’s blue eyes twinkled with amusement, “I am Persephone, child, mother of the underworld, keeper of spring, sometimes called the goddess of fertility, but that’s a bit of a misnomer.”
Flavia’s hand relaxed. She knew the gun would be pretty much useless down here anyway. How do you kill something that’s already dead? And what wasn’t dead down here were either immortal monsters or immortal gods. She just liked the feeling of having it.
Persephone’s eyes squinted in amusement. She waved her hand, “You won’t need that down here, interloper.” The gun disappeared. “Please,” Persephone went on in a pleasant tone, “Once in a while an intrepid mortal makes it here. You don’t belong, but I so rarely have guests. Walk with me for a while, tell me what troubles you, and I promise to return you safely to the middle realm.”
Flavia didn’t see any way to deny the wishes of a literal goddess. Her gun was floating through the air in the form of harmless soap bubbles; having no choice, she relaxed her posture and followed.
When Flavia came up alongside Persephone, the goddess reached out a delicate hand and placed it in Flavia’s. Warmth spread through her, reaching into heart, easing the pain of loss. She felt joy again.
“Do you know what this place is?” Persephone said in her soft voice as they crossed a stone bridge over a small stream.
“It’s the Underworld, ma’am,” Flavia replied, “a place where wicked souls are punished, apathetic souls are left to wander, and righteous souls are rewarded in the Elysium Fields.”
“Ha ha ha ha ha,” Persephone’s laugh twinkled gently like starlight in an unburdened sky, “You’re almost right.”
The goddess waved her free hand and the landscape changed. Now they were standing atop a glassy obsidian spire reaching up into the heights of the Underworld. Below them, Flavia could see a volcanic region, which must be Tartarus, a pit where the Titans were bound, a vast field, empty but for the shades of the apathetic, and in the far distance, a beautiful field filled with light. Beyond the field lay a mountain range laced with eternally running rivers. At the base of the mountain was the grandest house Flavia had ever seen.
“Almost right?” Flavia asked, “It sure looks like I hit the nail on the head.”
Persephone laughed gently again, “Not quite, young one. The Underworld is where the choices one has made in their lives comes to fulfillment. There is no judgment here. The souls go wherever the choices they made in life are most acutely reflected and live it out for eternity.”
The goddess waved her hand again, and Flavia found herself standing in the great house in the bright area. A colorful bird alighted on her hand, gave her a questioning look like she was an intruder, which she was, and flew away into an olive tree.
“So…” Flavia was wrapping her head around what Persephone had said, “If this place is merely a reflection of the choices we make…and Marley only ever chose love…then is she here? I assume this is Elysium.”
Persephone reached up a hand and cradled Flavia’s face. The hand smelled of lilac and lavender after a warm rain. “No,” Persephone whispered, “Marley isn’t here.”
A tear escaped Flavia’s eyes, “but–but I thought you said.”
“Child,” Persephone whispered, “Marley isn’t here because she is love. Dogs are an immovable, changeless expression of my love for the world.”
“So,” Flavia sniffed, “She isn’t here because she never was? She–” sniff, “never had a soul?”
“No,” Persephone smiled comfortingly, “Marley isn’t here, because she isn’t here anymore. She is back up there, searching for you.”
“What?” Flavia gasped, “What do you mean?”
Persephone moved in close and embraced Flavia in a hug. Flavia felt the love of the goddess flowing through her body and soul like a river bursting its banks, flooding the surrounding valley with life giving nutrients.
“My love is incarnate in the world, Flavia. Incarnate and reincarnate. It dies and is reborn, just like the world as it passes through winter and floods the world with life again in spring. I came down here to find you because Marley couldn’t sense your spirit in the world above.”
“I–I have to get back.”
“Yes,” Persephone whispered, “Yes, you do. This is not your place.”
“Oh, before you send me back,” Flavia said hastily as the goddess released her from the embrace.
“Yes?” Persephone said.
“Give Cerberus some love. I think he could use it.”
A serene smile spread over Persephone’s face, “I’ll give him a goddess level spa day.”
Flavia giggled, “Thank you.”
Persephone raised her hands and the Underworld dissolved into mist. Flavia found herself standing on her own porch.
“Flavia!”
Her brother was pulling his four door baby blue Colorado into the driveway.
“Look what I found!” He called hopping out of the truck.
Flavia gasped. In his hand, he held a small puppy of some unknown mixed breed. Flavia knew right away it wasn’t the same breed as her Marley had been, but rushed down the steps toward him.
“I found this little girl over on Striped Bass Place wandering around in the road.”
Flavia took the little puppy and cradled it in her arms. The puppy looked up through bleary eyes and clumsily put a paw up on her mouth.
Flavia gasped and burst into bittersweet tears. That was exactly what Marley had done all those years ago when Flavia found her at the shelter.
The Book Keeper, a weathered old skeleton that looked like it had seen one too few orthopedic surgeons in its mortal life, looked down at the intrepid young woman.
Sighing it popped open a book, “Name?”
“Flavia Freela.”
“No,” the skeletal scribe clacked through broken teeth. Apparently he’d foregone a few dental visits too. “Not your name. What’s the name of the pooch?”
“Marley,” Flavia answered, hope souring in her breast. This might actually work!
The skeletal scribe flipped back a few pages in silence, "It says here that your dog died peacefully from old age- hang on, how did you get to the underworld? You're not due here for decades."
Flavia glared at him. She glared impressively, "I don't care what it says and you do not want to know the lengths I'll go to."
The skeletal bookkeeper waved a hand dismissively, “You don’t have power here, mortal. This is the land of the dead.”
“Oh yeah? How do you think I got across the river Stix?”
“A boat.”
“The three headed cerberus?”
“I don’t know,” the skeleton threw up its bony hands in an oddly expressive gesture for someone without a face or any visible tendons, “You probably threw them a bone.”
Flavia didn’t say anything. She had, in fact, thrown Cerberus a bone, giving him a few good scratches behind the ear for good measure. She knew a neglected dog when she saw one, and Cerberus knew a dog lover when he smelled one.
“That’s what I thought,” the skeleton clacked, “useless beast.”
Anger flared in Flavia’s eyes, “Useless beast?” Her voice went up an octave, “Useless beast!”
The skeleton leaned back involuntarily as Flavia jumped up onto his desk spilling books onto the floor, “If you had an ounce of humanity left in you, you wouldn’t speak about him like that. All day, every day, for eternity he guards the Underworld. When was the last time he slept? When was the last time you did? When was the last time he ate or received an ounce of love or was fed something better than what passes for kibble in this godforsaken place?”
Flavia reached out a gloved hand and grabbed the skeleton by the neck vertebrae. She shook him like a ragdoll for emphasis as her voice dropped low and dangerous, fury spilling through every word, “If you think for one minute, you bag of bones, that I’m going to let my dear sweet Marley rest here, you got another thing coming mister.”
The faceless denizen of the underworld said nothing, just held its hands out to the side in a placating gesture. Clearly it had never been assaulted by a mortal before and was struggling to find words.
“What's going on here?” A soft feminine voice like a breath of spring spoke behind Flavia. Sighing, the voice continued, “Kindly release Malachai, mortal.”
Flavia released the book keeper who was apparently called Malachai and turned to face the new threat hand on her gun.
The woman standing before her could only be described as rosy, with long cherry blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore a bright green dress reamed with aromatic floral arrangements about the waist. She seemed to glow with passion and life in stark contrast with the dark, mossy ground and shriveled trees that adorned this part of the underworld.
Flavia flicked her eyes back and forth searching out other dangers and noted the direction from which the woman had come. It was easy. Little yellow and white flowers sprang up in her footprints. The line slowly faded toward her as the flowers wilted and returned to dust.
“Thank you, mortal,” the woman said. Her voice easing Flavia’s fears like the gentle fall of warm summer rain.
“Who,” Flavia gulped, “Who are you?”
The woman’s blue eyes twinkled with amusement, “I am Persephone, child, mother of the underworld, keeper of spring, sometimes called the goddess of fertility, but that’s a bit of a misnomer.”
Flavia’s hand relaxed. She knew the gun would be pretty much useless down here anyway. How do you kill something that’s already dead? And what wasn’t dead down here were either immortal monsters or immortal gods. She just liked the feeling of having it.
Persephone’s eyes squinted in amusement. She waved her hand, “You won’t need that down here, interloper.” The gun disappeared. “Please,” Persephone went on in a pleasant tone, “Once in a while an intrepid mortal makes it here. You don’t belong, but I so rarely have guests. Walk with me for a while, tell me what troubles you, and I promise to return you safely to the middle realm.”
Flavia didn’t see any way to deny the wishes of a literal goddess. Her gun was floating through the air in the form of harmless soap bubbles; having no choice, she relaxed her posture and followed.
When Flavia came up alongside Persephone, the goddess reached out a delicate hand and placed it in Flavia’s. Warmth spread through her, reaching into heart, easing the pain of loss. She felt joy again.
“Do you know what this place is?” Persephone said in her soft voice as they crossed a stone bridge over a small stream.
“It’s the Underworld, ma’am,” Flavia replied, “a place where wicked souls are punished, apathetic souls are left to wander, and righteous souls are rewarded in the Elysium Fields.”
“Ha ha ha ha ha,” Persephone’s laugh twinkled gently like starlight in an unburdened sky, “You’re almost right.”
The goddess waved her free hand and the landscape changed. Now they were standing atop a glassy obsidian spire reaching up into the heights of the Underworld. Below them, Flavia could see a volcanic region, which must be Tartarus, a pit where the Titans were bound, a vast field, empty but for the shades of the apathetic, and in the far distance, a beautiful field filled with light. Beyond the field lay a mountain range laced with eternally running rivers. At the base of the mountain was the grandest house Flavia had ever seen.
“Almost right?” Flavia asked, “It sure looks like I hit the nail on the head.”
Persephone laughed gently again, “Not quite, young one. The Underworld is where the choices one has made in their lives comes to fulfillment. There is no judgment here. The souls go wherever the choices they made in life are most acutely reflected and live it out for eternity.”
The goddess waved her hand again, and Flavia found herself standing in the great house in the bright area. A colorful bird alighted on her hand, gave her a questioning look like she was an intruder, which she was, and flew away into an olive tree.
“So…” Flavia was wrapping her head around what Persephone had said, “If this place is merely a reflection of the choices we make…and Marley only ever chose love…then is she here? I assume this is Elysium.”
Persephone reached up a hand and cradled Flavia’s face. The hand smelled of lilac and lavender after a warm rain. “No,” Persephone whispered, “Marley isn’t here.”
A tear escaped Flavia’s eyes, “but–but I thought you said.”
“Child,” Persephone whispered, “Marley isn’t here because she is love. Dogs are an immovable, changeless expression of my love for the world.”
“So,” Flavia sniffed, “She isn’t here because she never was? She–” sniff, “never had a soul?”
“No,” Persephone smiled comfortingly, “Marley isn’t here, because she isn’t here anymore. She is back up there, searching for you.”
“What?” Flavia gasped, “What do you mean?”
Persephone moved in close and embraced Flavia in a hug. Flavia felt the love of the goddess flowing through her body and soul like a river bursting its banks, flooding the surrounding valley with life giving nutrients.
“My love is incarnate in the world, Flavia. Incarnate and reincarnate. It dies and is reborn, just like the world as it passes through winter and floods the world with life again in spring. I came down here to find you because Marley couldn’t sense your spirit in the world above.”
“I–I have to get back.”
“Yes,” Persephone whispered, “Yes, you do. This is not your place.”
“Oh, before you send me back,” Flavia said hastily as the goddess released her from the embrace.
“Yes?” Persephone said.
“Give Cerberus some love. I think he could use it.”
A serene smile spread over Persephone’s face, “I’ll give him a goddess level spa day.”
Flavia giggled, “Thank you.”
Persephone raised her hands and the Underworld dissolved into mist. Flavia found herself standing on her own porch.
“Flavia!”
Her brother was pulling his four door baby blue Colorado into the driveway.
“Look what I found!” He called hopping out of the truck.
Flavia gasped. In his hand, he held a small puppy of some unknown mixed breed. Flavia knew right away it wasn’t the same breed as her Marley had been, but rushed down the steps toward him.
“I found this little girl over on Striped Bass Place wandering around in the road.”
Flavia took the little puppy and cradled it in her arms. The puppy looked up through bleary eyes and clumsily put a paw up on her mouth.
Flavia gasped and burst into bittersweet tears. That was exactly what Marley had done all those years ago when Flavia found her at the shelter.
A Greek Hoplite in King Odin's Court
Intro: A greek hoplite dies honorably, but instead of finding himself in the Elysium Fields, he is instead transported to another people's paradise.
Spoiler Alert!
Phylon wandered along forested paths shrouded in darkness and mist. His head hung low for he was certain this was Asphodel, and he would wander forever contemplating the mistakes of his life.
Voices whispered all around in a language strange to him. He understood this meant that the spirits could not speak to each other, locked in an eternal torment of nothingness. No torture, no wine, no beautiful women, just an empty, scentless, speechless meandering existence for all eternity.
He didn’t deserve this. He assured himself again. He had fought hard at the hot gates, slain countless Persian bastards alongside his brothers. He had defended the side of the man next to him from knee to shoulder until the very end.
His head hung in defeat as an owl flew silently past him. He saw and heard animals prowling or skittering about in the undergrowth. There was only one reason he could be in Asphodel.
He failed. They failed. All of them. They failed each other and their nation. Not only that, they’d marched during the festival of Carneia. By Spartan law all military activity was prohibited. Yet King Leonidus had ordered them to march and march they did.
“What was I supposed to do!?” He bellowed into the lingering mist, “when faced with a choice between gods and the king appointed by them? Did I not spill my blood for their sacred land!?”
Tears threatened his eyes, but did not spill. Would not spill. Could not… “Did we not save…” his voice shook, “countless lives of your people on our way to Thermopylae from Persian foragers and reavers!? Why are we cast into darkness!?”
His plea was swallowed by the vast emptiness crowded with bark and branch, bird and beast.
His footsteps carried him up a hill, and he began to hear voices. He clamped his hands over his ears to shut out what he was certain were the wailing of the tortured souls of Tartarus or the rejoicing of Elysium which would be as torture to him condemned.
He stopped abruptly when a creature jumped from the forest into the path and looked up at him with cold amber eyes. The snow white fox sniffed the air briefly before lowering itself on its haunches and cocking its head inquisitively at the armored spirit before him.
Phylon, who’d only been defeated once in his life, hung his head and looked on the creature with defeat in his gaze.
“What do you want?” He muttered.
“That’s a strange thing to ask. Everyone knows what a fylgja’s job is…” the fox replied.
Phylon took a step back and nearly tripped, surprise written all over his face, “a what?”
“A fylgja,” the fox repeated. Then blinked and twitched its ears when Phylon didn’t reply, “How did you manage to find yourself in Asgard without even knowing what a spirit guide is?”
“I…I don’t even know what Asgard is. I thought this was Asphodel?”
“Hades pad?” The fylgja asked. Then shook its head, “No, this is not Asphodel. You’re in Asgard, home of Odin, Thor, and all the way more baddass gods than the ones you came up with.”
“Do not insult the gods, beast!” Phylon spat taking a threatening step forward.
The little creature didn’t even blink. Just stared. And stared.
Phylon stared back.
“You know you’re dead, right?” The fylgja muttered contemptuously.
Phylon sighed, “Yeah. So how does this work? I spend eternity with an annoying fox, banished from my own heaven for fighting during Carneia’s festival?”
“Oh no,” the spirit shook its head, “No, I only have to deal with your attitude as far as Valhalla, Odin’s hall. The king is waiting for you.”
The fox set off down the track chattering all the while.
“Don’t worry, you’ll love it. It’s a lot like Elysium, except all the gods hang out there, not just Hades and his wife. You’ll have wine and food and games and all the pleasure your little prick could desire.”
“It’s not little,” Phylon grumbled, following the…fylgja.
The path took them over the crest of the hill and Phylon stopped to gaze upon the site. High mountains and rolling hills covered in thick forests surrounded a crystal fjord. Starlight reflected on its surface.
The sun rose as the unlikely pair made their way across a massive wooden bridge, ornately carved from a single trunk of some ancient tree. The sounds of battle accompanied the dawn, emanating luringly across the fjord.
At the far side of the bridge stood a massive hall, bigger than the entire city of Sparta.
“I’ll give you a quick rundown since you’re new here and don’t know any of the lore,” the fox said as the day turned again to night and the sounds of battle faded.
Phylon followed the creature up a number of steps he figured would take all night to traverse. He didn’t feel tired though, he guessed that was the benefit of being free of the mortal coil.
“By day the warriors of Valhalla battle endlessly for Odin’s entertainment and perform many valorous deeds. Most are slaughtered by the end, and the arena runs red with courageous blood. But at night Odin resurrects and heals them all and they party like they don’t need sleep…because they don’t.”
“That actually sounds pretty awesome,” Phylon said. His thoughts meandered to his own Elysium and kicked himself somewhat when he realized he’d probably enjoy Valhalla more.
“Oh it is,” the silver pelted fox said cheerfully, leading him through the great door.
The sight would’ve taken Phylon’s breath away if he had any. Enormous bearded men, big as giants, drank and sang and groped, sometimes the women sometimes each other.
“A warrior's paradise,” Phylon muttered under his breath.
No one who walked the way of the warrior expected to live long, so most were determined to live the best they could and have a great time. These guys certainly thought that way.
“Hey, you listening? There’s one more important detail about this place. And I mean REALLY important.”
“What’s that?”
“You see those women dressed like the men?”
“Yeah.”
“Those are the skjaldmadr. Warrior maidens who took up arms and fought just as hard and well as the men in life and found their way to this paradise. The naked people of both genders walking around are the afusr, nymphs that exist to please Odin’s favored warriors.”
“And you’re making this distinction because?”
“Well, approach the skjaldmadr at your own risk. I’ve seen them clip unwanted suitors without a second thought and then you gotta wait until the next night to get them back. Not to mention you gotta fight a whole day without your balls.”
Phylon’s hand moved down to his loins, “Understood,” he said, his face pekid.
“Now, let’s go meet Odin.”
Phylon approached the raised throne respectfully, neck straight, head lowered. The god Odin was not like any of the powerful figures he was used to in his own realm of belief. The god was old and weathered. An unkempt white beard hung about his face, and a raven lounged on one shoulder. One of his eyes was missing, replaced with a large glass bead that shone with the pale rays of starlight.
“Ah!” Odin chuckled, “Finally! The exchange student!”
Click the link below to see how the exchange student from Odin's hall faired
Voices whispered all around in a language strange to him. He understood this meant that the spirits could not speak to each other, locked in an eternal torment of nothingness. No torture, no wine, no beautiful women, just an empty, scentless, speechless meandering existence for all eternity.
He didn’t deserve this. He assured himself again. He had fought hard at the hot gates, slain countless Persian bastards alongside his brothers. He had defended the side of the man next to him from knee to shoulder until the very end.
His head hung in defeat as an owl flew silently past him. He saw and heard animals prowling or skittering about in the undergrowth. There was only one reason he could be in Asphodel.
He failed. They failed. All of them. They failed each other and their nation. Not only that, they’d marched during the festival of Carneia. By Spartan law all military activity was prohibited. Yet King Leonidus had ordered them to march and march they did.
“What was I supposed to do!?” He bellowed into the lingering mist, “when faced with a choice between gods and the king appointed by them? Did I not spill my blood for their sacred land!?”
Tears threatened his eyes, but did not spill. Would not spill. Could not… “Did we not save…” his voice shook, “countless lives of your people on our way to Thermopylae from Persian foragers and reavers!? Why are we cast into darkness!?”
His plea was swallowed by the vast emptiness crowded with bark and branch, bird and beast.
His footsteps carried him up a hill, and he began to hear voices. He clamped his hands over his ears to shut out what he was certain were the wailing of the tortured souls of Tartarus or the rejoicing of Elysium which would be as torture to him condemned.
He stopped abruptly when a creature jumped from the forest into the path and looked up at him with cold amber eyes. The snow white fox sniffed the air briefly before lowering itself on its haunches and cocking its head inquisitively at the armored spirit before him.
Phylon, who’d only been defeated once in his life, hung his head and looked on the creature with defeat in his gaze.
“What do you want?” He muttered.
“That’s a strange thing to ask. Everyone knows what a fylgja’s job is…” the fox replied.
Phylon took a step back and nearly tripped, surprise written all over his face, “a what?”
“A fylgja,” the fox repeated. Then blinked and twitched its ears when Phylon didn’t reply, “How did you manage to find yourself in Asgard without even knowing what a spirit guide is?”
“I…I don’t even know what Asgard is. I thought this was Asphodel?”
“Hades pad?” The fylgja asked. Then shook its head, “No, this is not Asphodel. You’re in Asgard, home of Odin, Thor, and all the way more baddass gods than the ones you came up with.”
“Do not insult the gods, beast!” Phylon spat taking a threatening step forward.
The little creature didn’t even blink. Just stared. And stared.
Phylon stared back.
“You know you’re dead, right?” The fylgja muttered contemptuously.
Phylon sighed, “Yeah. So how does this work? I spend eternity with an annoying fox, banished from my own heaven for fighting during Carneia’s festival?”
“Oh no,” the spirit shook its head, “No, I only have to deal with your attitude as far as Valhalla, Odin’s hall. The king is waiting for you.”
The fox set off down the track chattering all the while.
“Don’t worry, you’ll love it. It’s a lot like Elysium, except all the gods hang out there, not just Hades and his wife. You’ll have wine and food and games and all the pleasure your little prick could desire.”
“It’s not little,” Phylon grumbled, following the…fylgja.
The path took them over the crest of the hill and Phylon stopped to gaze upon the site. High mountains and rolling hills covered in thick forests surrounded a crystal fjord. Starlight reflected on its surface.
The sun rose as the unlikely pair made their way across a massive wooden bridge, ornately carved from a single trunk of some ancient tree. The sounds of battle accompanied the dawn, emanating luringly across the fjord.
At the far side of the bridge stood a massive hall, bigger than the entire city of Sparta.
“I’ll give you a quick rundown since you’re new here and don’t know any of the lore,” the fox said as the day turned again to night and the sounds of battle faded.
Phylon followed the creature up a number of steps he figured would take all night to traverse. He didn’t feel tired though, he guessed that was the benefit of being free of the mortal coil.
“By day the warriors of Valhalla battle endlessly for Odin’s entertainment and perform many valorous deeds. Most are slaughtered by the end, and the arena runs red with courageous blood. But at night Odin resurrects and heals them all and they party like they don’t need sleep…because they don’t.”
“That actually sounds pretty awesome,” Phylon said. His thoughts meandered to his own Elysium and kicked himself somewhat when he realized he’d probably enjoy Valhalla more.
“Oh it is,” the silver pelted fox said cheerfully, leading him through the great door.
The sight would’ve taken Phylon’s breath away if he had any. Enormous bearded men, big as giants, drank and sang and groped, sometimes the women sometimes each other.
“A warrior's paradise,” Phylon muttered under his breath.
No one who walked the way of the warrior expected to live long, so most were determined to live the best they could and have a great time. These guys certainly thought that way.
“Hey, you listening? There’s one more important detail about this place. And I mean REALLY important.”
“What’s that?”
“You see those women dressed like the men?”
“Yeah.”
“Those are the skjaldmadr. Warrior maidens who took up arms and fought just as hard and well as the men in life and found their way to this paradise. The naked people of both genders walking around are the afusr, nymphs that exist to please Odin’s favored warriors.”
“And you’re making this distinction because?”
“Well, approach the skjaldmadr at your own risk. I’ve seen them clip unwanted suitors without a second thought and then you gotta wait until the next night to get them back. Not to mention you gotta fight a whole day without your balls.”
Phylon’s hand moved down to his loins, “Understood,” he said, his face pekid.
“Now, let’s go meet Odin.”
Phylon approached the raised throne respectfully, neck straight, head lowered. The god Odin was not like any of the powerful figures he was used to in his own realm of belief. The god was old and weathered. An unkempt white beard hung about his face, and a raven lounged on one shoulder. One of his eyes was missing, replaced with a large glass bead that shone with the pale rays of starlight.
“Ah!” Odin chuckled, “Finally! The exchange student!”
Click the link below to see how the exchange student from Odin's hall faired
Spoiler Alert!
“Where’s the mead?” Harald demanded loudly.
“The what?” Persephone asked gently.
“Mead!” Harald bellowed. Then paused at the beautiful goddess’s look of confusion, “…honey wine?”
“Ah!” Persephone’s face lit up, “sure! Here you go.”
Harald took and sip and spat it out, “Pig ****.”
“Oh oh, I’m sorry,” Persephone said, a pained look on her face. She hated when guests weren’t happy.
Harald shrugged, “Give me someone to kill!”
“Um, we don’t do that here.”
“Gromuldr!” Harald swore, “pig **** mead and no one to kill. What am I supposed to be learning?”
“Manners apparently,” a new voice said behind him.
He turned to find himself face to face with Hades.
“That’s my wife you’re disrespecting. You want mead and someone to kill?…ok.”
Harald found himself in Tartarus perpetually murdering enormous bees that drank his mead. He had as much as he wanted, but though the liquid fell on his lips, he was doomed never to taste it until the bees were slain.
At least his exchange term was up in a hundred years. He found solace in one thing only. The rough time the Greek student must be having…
“The what?” Persephone asked gently.
“Mead!” Harald bellowed. Then paused at the beautiful goddess’s look of confusion, “…honey wine?”
“Ah!” Persephone’s face lit up, “sure! Here you go.”
Harald took and sip and spat it out, “Pig ****.”
“Oh oh, I’m sorry,” Persephone said, a pained look on her face. She hated when guests weren’t happy.
Harald shrugged, “Give me someone to kill!”
“Um, we don’t do that here.”
“Gromuldr!” Harald swore, “pig **** mead and no one to kill. What am I supposed to be learning?”
“Manners apparently,” a new voice said behind him.
He turned to find himself face to face with Hades.
“That’s my wife you’re disrespecting. You want mead and someone to kill?…ok.”
Harald found himself in Tartarus perpetually murdering enormous bees that drank his mead. He had as much as he wanted, but though the liquid fell on his lips, he was doomed never to taste it until the bees were slain.
At least his exchange term was up in a hundred years. He found solace in one thing only. The rough time the Greek student must be having…