Original

A scrubbed and fed desert survivor, the uniformed Eye stood by the pinkish-tint marble fountain, Dedicated to the Perished. It was centered in the main square in front of the Royal Palace. The gushing waters sang. So much water, he thought desert thoughts. He heard old familiar music start like a dam breaking loose in his heart. The lyric still haunting him.

“Now that I’ve found you, I only know I’d be lost without you. All I’ve ever wanted, all I ever needed has come true, now that I’ve found you,” whispered Eye under his breath, “Is that what you want me to say to you, Arrow?”

“Yes, Eye, it is,” said a familiar female voice, “It’s me. I’ve been searching for you, too. And now I’ve found you.”

He turned, startled by the lanky woman in a pleated summer dress standing next to him. She was beautiful. Arrow’s face looked up at his. His eyes glanced from her eyes to the scar on her left arm. He touched it tenderly.

They embraced spontaneously weeping for joy.

“My prayers are answered. You survived. I can’t believe it’s you. But it is,” he said quietly as if speaking to an angel just descending from heaven, “Your hair seems even longer. It probably deserves a good braiding. You look great. Look at you … wearing shoes. Hey! I just noticed you’re out of uniform. Are you out of the military, too? Where have you been?”

So many questions just came jumbling to Eye’s scattered mind and out his blabbering mouth. He was rattled.

“I’m no longer a bodyguard. Is that what you want to know?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. Holding her and studying her angelic features, he slowly kissed her full lips. He savored every moment.

“You really waited for me,” Arrow said stunned, “I was in the hospital for quite awhile. I didn’t figure you’d really want to wait around.”

“I told you I would. Some promises aren’t hard to keep,” he grinned, “I’m sorry you got stranded in the desert. It was my fault. I didn’t know what to do. They wouldn’t wait. Are you okay now?”

“Yeah. I was in a … mental hospital. I guess I didn’t mention that part. I kind of cracked when I hit the Big City. I thought you and Arrow were both dead and I was pretty delusional. You can’t imagine how many guys it took to disarm me?”

“I’d guess fourteen big guys,” Eye answered.

“You’ve really never seen me mean and out of my gourd. You’re under estimating me,” she said smiling.

“How did you find me here?” he asked.

“My Boss is taking care of some old business in the Palace today. I looked up and saw you by the fountains. I thought you were dead. I about fainted.”

“Fainting! You. No way. Anyway I thought you were dead. Hey tell me, who’s your new Boss?”

“Guess?”

“The Queen?”

She laughed.

“I suppose, you could say that. It’s Anchor.”

Eye became serious.

“Really? Anchor’s still alive. I knew it! She’s Princess Ungula, right? I should have guessed it. Who’s she meeting with?”

“A guy named Morgan. Why? You want to join the party?”

“Morgan? Yeah. I think she’ll be needing our professional help soon. You know what I mean?”

“Gimme one more kiss first. Before we go.”

“Wait. You’re no longer a bodyguard. You promised me a commitment when you were discharged. Say yes and I’ll kiss you,” he said with a devious smile.

“Yes, yes, yes.”

It was a pleasing long kiss.

They took off running for the palace.

The happy brief reunion of Anchor, Arrow and Eye in the palace courtyard sounded as a flapping flock of birds suddenly set free, soaring and gliding in fresh, open air. They were ecstatic and noisy.

An object skid across the polished castle’s marble floor at high speed. It was spinning like a street toy bouncing off furniture and walls in the long hall. Steps were heard. After pausing and kicking, the stopped object spun further. Like a child’s game of kick the can, the steps proceeded down the hall toward the Military Leader and his Queen. They waited, glancing at each other, wondering who could get past security so easily.

Soon a purple and gray object plopped at the royal feet of the Queen.

It had a polished boomerang shape. In a moment of recognition, Zingara shrieked when it fell.

“The Best Stone! My dream!”

“Thought you’d like to have it, your Majesty. My friends Arrow and Eye located it in the desert, not the sand desert you know, but in a rapture simulator. Knew it’d have particular sentimental meaning for you.”

There stood Anchor speaking, hard honest words, her two desert friends standing close by.

Zingara stared at a manifestation in her palm that previously only existed in her dream world. She clenched her fist around it. Things were becoming clear now. There was no dream. A rapture simulator easily produced dream qualities if it was replayed over and over brainwashing its prey. Only a few props were required. This Stone was proof enough. Who would benefit from such fraudulent night visions? Obviously, Yew Rue.

“Tell her,” commanded Anchor, “Who I am and why I’m here.”

“Who are you to command me?” said Yew Rue haughtily.

“Ask the voice in your head, the Executioner Morgan, the Sea-dweller. Your valued ally?”

Eyes wide, Zingara, recognizing Yew’s changed touch. She registered Morgan’s craving dungeon touches again.

“You are Anchor, the anchoress. Survivor of the Great Butchery, commander of nature, and Royal Princess of the Golden City, Heiress to the Throne,” said a gurgling in Yew’s throat inhabited by the undead.

Zingara pitched the Stone. The purple and gray Best Stone sailed across the room striking Yew square in the forehead. He dropped cold to the floor.

“You killed my father!” shrieked Zingara. Hysterically, she ruthlessly kneed, elbowed, and punched the unconscious Yew Rue into a bloody mess. She plopped down sobbing uncontrollably. Her foul husband treacherously deceived her. He plotted the evil assassination of her cherished father. He was in league and now possessed by the bloodiest heart ever created, Morgan the Executioner.

“Ungula, you are the Anchor father spoke of so fondly. Why didn’t you tell me? I am sorry for my behavior. I apologize. Forgive me,” said Zingara in a stilted overwhelmed manner. She sat staring at her red-stained hands.

“Hey, it’s OK. We all have our bad days,” said Anchor with her usual devil-may-care attitude, “I admire your combat training. Very effective. I’m interested. What are you going to do with this guy?” asked Anchor.

“Anchor, you realize, now you rule this land and the Golden City. You decide what happens to these two depraved minds in one body. Show no mercy, please, for their crimes are heinous,” said Zingara with numbed feelings. Her face was ghostly pale and tears streamed from her red puffy eyes.

“These are difficult times for you, Sister Zingara. I’ve felt similar anguish. You’re not alone in your suffering. For the criminal mastermind, inside your husband’s body, crushed millions of humans before my young eyes. He’s not really surprised I’m here today. He secretly longs for death’s embrace. I’ve come to administer his wish,” said Anchor unvarnished.

“My Royal Queen, what can I do to help you in your mission?” asked Zingara.

“First, quit groveling!” commanded Anchor.

This blunt statement shocked Zingara out of her daze.

“You’re a trained warrior. Has royal life caused you to go soft so quickly?” Anchor continued, “Second, don’t call me Queen anymore. Anchor is my spiritual name. Be my sister not my subject.”

Anchor knew dealing directly and forcefully with her twin sister would help keep Zingara from falling apart or being reckless.

Years had past since Morgan perished and Yew Rue was banished. Justice had been done. The country and city were at peace. The Golden City was now restored to its former splendour. One afternoon, while playing a game with the young Prince Eric, son of Zingara, Anchor discovered a strange little room. Because of her mental abilities, Anchor perceived this was Morgan’s abode. It was untouched since the solitary and catastrophic visit of Yew Rue. She cautiously entered.

“Hello?” she asked. All was silent. She walked to the toppled discarded black box where Yew Rue left it. She sat down and picked it up slowly. She sensed the power and lives occupying this small hinged space. She opened the heavy leather and wood lid. Looking in the box, it was full of small amulets of human hair … young women’s hair. Anchor gasped.

She saw the ghostly faces and unspeakable vampire deaths. Morgan was her half-brother, both born of Lamia the Dragoness. She saw in vision the puppet Morgan preparing their hair as food. All this swept before her eyes in a blink. She was silenced by panic; a panic that said, “run far away”. Instead she bolstered her nerves. Closing the lid to the box she carried it from the dark room and out into the daylight. She knew now why Morgan never killed her like the rest. In the garden, Zingara knelt by her son as he was asking her questions. Arrow also accompanied her. Arrow was big and round expecting her first child. They all were gathered in the military garden near the Eternal Flame for the Dead.

“Where have you been? What’s in your hands?” asked Eric, “Is it evil?”

His mother tried to shush him but Anchor pleased with his discernment interrupted.

“Quite right, my young highness, and we’ll destroy this wickedness today and rid its evil from the earth forever.” She dumped the box’s contents in the flame. It crackled with a roar. She tossed the leather wooden box in next. A funny noise commenced with a soft laugh followed soon by another until a cacophony of girlish laughter resounded through the entire flame. The curling thin flame rose higher and higher drifting off toward the midday sun.

“Those were Morgan’s girls. Weren’t they?” asked the young prince.

“What would you know of Morgan’s girls?” asked Anchor.

“Well they tell stories in the market. They say you were one of Morgan’s girls and survived. Is it true?” asked the boy Eric.

“Yes. It is true,” she replied seriously. She stared up at the flame, pensive.

“Why didn’t he kill you or give you to Lamia like all the other maidens?” asked the boy with intense curiosity, “They say he gave her all the unblemished ones. What does unblemished mean?”

“It means: perfect. But he most likely spared my life because he knew we were opposites. Maybe he feared killing me. Or maybe he feared loving me. I never got to ask him. But he knew, in the end, I would be victor. He set himself up to fail,” said Anchor.

“He probably was reserving you as the hideous damsel, you know, as a magic hostage,” said Arrow.

“I’m glad you freed those girl spirits today,” said Eric solemnly.

“Why is that?” asked his mother, Zingara.

“Because of what Grandfather used to say, “Serve not self”. This was a selfless act. Wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Very much so,” Zingara said, tears pouring down her cheeks as her small son quoted Somer Krest, a Grandfather little Eric knew only through stories.

Anchor hugged Zingara and whispering said, “Sister, savor these words for an unstained tomorrow; Serve not self.”

“Well said beautiful daughter! I’ve been observing all of you and you are all wonderful empathizing humans.” There stood the Wise Old Man emerging from the castle with Eye close behind him as bodyguard.

“Father! How are you alive? We saw you buried.”

He kissed them all, even Arrow.

“Your location and destruction of the box and it’s contents permits me to be with you now. I couldn’t be safe otherwise, nor any of our Kingdom. I could have been demonically possessed like Yew Rue and we would have lost everything.”

“Are you all right?” asked Anchor.

“I think if you ask the well-trained, Arrow, who is married to this Royal Bodyguard called Eye, they can tell you many of the nit-picky details. What matters, I’ve been “dead” and shielded by my good men. As for now, I am too old to relate such petty and boring trivialities. I want to talk to my grandson.”

Eric marched forward and bowed. The sisters seemed stunned.

“Excellent, Master Eric. Can you tell me the tale of the Great Phoenix?” asked Krest with a gleam in his eye.

“Oh, yes, sir. I know it very well. Let’s go over by the reflecting pond. I’ll tell you all about it. On a sunny day like this if you look hard into the waters, you can see the bird’s fires blazing.”

“Really?” said Somer Krest as they walked slowly toward the water, “Would it surprise you if I told you I just spent an entire year with the Phoenix?”

The boy stared at him for a minute.

“Grandfather, you’ve got to sit by the pond and hear my story first. OK?”

The Wise Old Man laughed heartily.

“I do like this boy’s leadership potential. Yes, indeed.”

Months pass. Eye held his newborn daughter, Melody, in front of him cradling her tiny body along his arms. She was sleeping. Her mother, Arrow, was asleep also. He looked in Melody’s face searching for the little remnants of himself existing in her. Were those his eyebrows or perhaps his lips?

“I’m searching for my immortality,” Eye whispered to himself. Reverence warmed his soul. He realized God was close by smiling on Melody. Eye nearly forgot God in all the horror and destruction of war. Now he felt the Grand Goodness again. New life. New child. New book.