lewisplanthead

This is a short story I wrote for a college assignment, enjoy!

Michael lit a cigarette. Outside stood the Kismet, its arms folded, face sunk in gloom. Michael paced down the gangplank from the spaceship, descending with a crunch onto the forest floor.
“We best get going,” Michael proposed, “it’ll be dark soon enough – we don’t want to get lost in this God-awful place.”
The Kismet said nothing. It turned with solemnity, gathering its robes, and started towards the edge of the clearing. Michael struggled to keep pace with the Kismet’s heavy strides as they closed the gap between them and the gathering of strange Martian trees which enveloped them. The ghostly alien sunlight blinked at him through the canopy, blinding him with its lurid purple glow. He peered into the blackness of the preternatural wood as they encroached upon it. Jesus. He thought. I have a bad feeling about this.
The kismet stopped at the wilderness edge, held up a hand. It spoke without turning. “If what we seek does not present itself to us.” It paused in contemplation. “Then your people, and my people, will perish.”
“I just want to go home.” Michael stared up at the stars, endless stars, burning intently in the empty universe. “To finally be back with my family.”
The kismet sighed deeply. “Eventually we both will, Michael. One way or another.”
They advanced into the incandescent twilight of the forest, pushing the lush verdant vegetation aside as they descended deeper into the gloom. The sound of life buzzed about them as they proceeded. Creatures eyed them curiously, chattering to each other in unearthly voices. Michael plodded on alongside the Kismet; the ground glimmered like an oil slick and he watched the floor as he walked, trying not to trample all over some poor indigenous life or get his foot caught in the peculiar frondescence.
“Eurgh!” Michael grimaced. “This place smells vile.”
A rare smile touched the Kismet’s thin lips. “To me – this smells beautiful. It smells like going back home”.
Onwards they went, until the thick black trunks of trees reached with gnarled fingers into the sky all around them and the undergrowth was thick and moist. The Kismet had enabled his omnilantern to illumine the deep wild parts at the heart of the forest. It was near. He could feel it, wanting to be found. Calling to him in a shrill tongue. They struggled through the alien forest - passing crystal pools of water stagnant in the limelight, cracked branches and lush ferns. The ancient tree of the forest dominated their vision now; it stood with dignity, writhing, twisting, bursting its way up and out of the canopy ahead of them. They started towards it with vigor, its pulsating bark coming into view. As they neared the air became thick and sweet. The tree breathed, slowly, deeply. Its bark cracked and pushed outwards with a mighty groan, then retreated gently with a hiss. They came upon its base at last, basking in its effulgence.
The Kismet stroked its sturdy root, whispered to itself, “Om Namah Shivaya”.
“Is it… Is it alive?” Michael inquired a look of childlike awe on his face as he gaped in rapture upwards at the trunk stretching into the clouds.
The Kismet was silent. The tree exhaled, throwing the leaves around them up into a torrent; its wall of bark creeping and cracking forward, forcing them to retreat.
Then they both saw it. The box. Nestled in the root of the great tree like a fallen acorn; its glimmering golden frame lying in a bed of dry purple leaves. The Kismet gasped, paced towards it; scooped it up and held it high above its head with a sigh of absolute relief. Michael watched as it fumbled about in its robe pocket. It was searching for something.
“Are you looking for the key?” Michael ventured.
No reply. The kismet brought out a small glowing cylinder and cast it into the dirt; electricity burst out from it, flickering upwards in vicious white arcs. An opalescent image formed, slowly at first, and then it surged into vibrant lucid colours washing over each other in waves of static. A portal. The Kismet turned to him, box under one arm and looked into his eyes knowingly.
“Michael, we must part ways now.” It said softly. “What was broken is now fixed; return to our home. We will keep watch over you as always. Do you understand Michael? Without you we simply cannot exist. Without your people there is no beginning. You can’t end something which has no beginning. Funny thing, that.”
Michael stared blankly as the Kismet leapt into the furious cataclysm of energy; it swallowed him whole, whipping its long robe in after. For a time he stared, his thoughts like moths in a glass jar, as the gateway unravelled itself and faded into non-existence; leaving him in the heart of the forest, amidst the buzzing, fragrant air and the watchful trees.He started towards the clearing where he had left his ship, winding his way through the unfamiliar forest.

Herbal Meditation

AWESOME.
What is a Kismet by the way? I imagine him as being a mix of Piccolo and Vegeta but dressed in black robes and being really huge and he is a wizard and an alchemist.

macphearsome

a very nice read, thanks

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