"The Cowboy from the Past"

Today, we're going to go to 2010, when I wrote this three part story, "The Cowboy from the Past." You're the first to see all three parts at once without having to wait! Congratulations.

                                                           The Cowboy from the Past

Melanie's time machine looked finished.  Little lights of red, yellow, blue, green, and orange blinked here and there.  The metal walls gave out little hollow-sounding noises as Melanie did a final check on the inside.
"Melanie!  What are you doing in there?"
Melanie's older brother, Pete, was pounding at the locked bedroom door.
"Working on my time machine!" Melanie called back.
Pete snickered.
"Whatever you say, Melon," he said, using the nickname his younger sister hated.
Melanie took a deep breath.
"Fine, Squash!" she called back, using the nickname Pete hated.
Melanie took one more look at the time machine's circuit board, and then put the metal panel back on.
"All set," Melanie murmured, taking her tool box and getting out of the machine.
Melanie looked over her time machine with great satisfaction.  The metal door hung open invitingly.
"Well," she said, getting back into the machine, "what am I waiting for?  Time for the real test!"
Melanie pulled the door shut, and fastened it tightly.
Once inside, Melanie pressed the power button.  Instantly, a mechanical noise started up, and roared around her, and the bright green light on the ceiling began flashing with a slight throbbing noise.  The time machine was working.
"Let's see," Melanie said, thinking aloud, "if the time machine works correctly, I should be able to approximate a time in history, and when the sequence is over I'll have a visitor from the past."
Now that it came to this, Melanie hardly knew what time to choose.  She finally decided that it might be interesting to bring back a hippie from the 1960's, but she accidentally pushed the button a few too many times.  It was too late, however--Melanie didn't notice her miscalculation, and pulled the Initiation Lever.  The time machine roared even louder.  Louder, louder, louder--and then the green light, which had been flashing faster and faster, suddenly clicked off.  The smaller lights on the walls, buttons, and levers also went off, and Melanie found herself surrounded by complete darkness.
It didn't take Melanie long to remember, however, that she had programmed the lights to go off when the sequence was almost completed--that way, the visitor didn't have to go through the shock of waking up in a little metal box--at first, they would just see darkness.  Melanie figured that the whole process of bringing someone out of the past depended on how far out of the past the person was coming from.  She guessed that bringing someone out of the 1960's would take something around fifteen minutes, so she was surprised when it seemed as if the sequence was taking longer than this.  Melanie was beginning to be afraid that the time machine didn't work, when suddenly she heard a lot of grumbling on the other side of the machine.
"I reckon' I musta hit my head on somethin'," the voice said.
It sounded like a man.  Melanie kept completely still and quiet so she wouldn't frighten the visitor.  He sure didn't sound like a hippie.  He sounded more like a...a...
"Where has that gosh-darn pistol gotten to?" the voice said.
Cowboy?
Of course! Melanie realized.  She must have pressed the button a few too many times, and brought someone further out of the past than the 1960's--and it seemed as if she'd ended up bringing up a cowboy back with her.  Oh well, Melanie thought.  A cowboy should be interesting.
"Where in tarnation am I?" said the voice.  "And what's that gosh-darned noise?  Sounds like a mochine."
The voice kept making comments as the lights came back on, dim at first, but getting brighter and brighter until...
"Holy smokes!  Where am I?" said the cowboy, for a cowboy he was.
The cowboy looked around, and then spotted Melanie, sitting with her back against the wall of the time machine, her arms wrapped around her knees.  Melanie stared back at him.  An awkward silence followed.
Finally, the cowboy said, "Howdy."
"Um, howdy," Melanie said.
The cowboy pointed at the wall of the time machine.
"What in tarnation is this thing?" he asked.
Melanie found herself in a tight spot.  The cowboy would never believe her if she told him it was a time machine, but what else was there to say?
"It's a time machine." she said.
The cowboy stared at her.  The time machine suddenly made a huge BUMP!.  Then, the roar in the machine slowly became quieter until suddenly, the noise just shut off.  Melanie got up, and, unfastening the latches on the door, let it swing open into her bedroom.
"Welcome to the 21st Century," she said.


                                                                                 ***
Melanie stepped out into her bedroom, followed by the very confused cowboy. 
"What do yer mean, 21st Century?" he asked, looking around the bedroom.
"This is the year 2010," Melanie explained, pointing to her calendar.
The cowboy froze.  Melanie hoped she hadn't given him a heart attack.
"What do yer mean, 2010?" he asked.
"I mean 2010," Melanie said, "you know, in the 21st Century?"
The cowboy was looking more confused by the second.
"Do yer mean that we've gone forward in time?" the cowboy asked.
"Well, sort of," Melanie said.  "Actually, for me, this is present day.  But we have come to the future from your time."
The cowboy sank down onto Melanie's bed.
"That just plain dun't make any sense," he said.  "How could I have come into this here, what you call, 'future'?"
"Well," Melanie said, "I made a time machine."
The cowboy looked dejectedly up at her.  His big black moustache seemed to droop.
"Well, that dun't explain it," he said.
Melanie sighed, and picked up a binder from her desk.
"See, look, these are the plans for my time machine." she said, opening up the binder and showing him.
"Ya know," the cowboy said, "ya keep on sayin' time mochine, but it don't make sense to me.  What's a time mochine?"
Melanie smiled.
"It's a machine that allows you to travel to a different time," she explained.
The cowboy was completely lost.
"You mean like it's high noon when I ride into town, but by the time I get to the saloon it's after high noon?" the cowboy asked.
"No," Melanie said, "it's...well, I don't think I can explain it to you...I don't think you'd understand."
"Well then, lemme see if I can git you straight," he said.  "Yer sayin' that this here time mochine transported me from my own time."
"Yes," Melanie said, nodding.
The cowboy shook his head.
"That's real crazy," he said.
Conversation dwindled for a few minutes.  Melanie looked at her feet, trying to think of something to say, and the cowboy took his pistol out of its holster and inspected it.  Finally, he slipped the pistol back into its holster, and looked up at her.
"What's your name, Ma'am?" he asked her.
"My name's Melanie," Melanie said.
"Melanie," the cowboy said slowly and contemplatively.  "Real purtty."
"Thanks," Melanie said.  "What's your name?"
"Weeeell, lemme see now." the cowboy said.  "I reckon you can just call me Ted."
"Oh, OK," Melanie said.  "Are you hungry, Ted?"
"I reckon so," Ted replied.  "Haven't had nothin' to eat since...well, I dun't even remember."
"Then let's go get something to eat," Melanie said.  "I'm hungry, too."
Melanie led the way out of her bedroom and down the hall, towards the staircase.
"You got a real nice house, Melanie," Ted said.  "Rather peculiar though, if you don't mind my sayin' so."
Melanie laughed.
"I'm sure it does seem peculiar to  you," she said.
Melanie led the way into the kitchen.  She made a couple of sandwiches.
"I hope you like peanut butter and jelly," she said to Ted.
"I reckon it'll be fine," Ted replied.  "Never heard of puttin' peanuts and butter between bread, though."
"Oh," Melanie said, "no, it's peanut butter.  The peanuts are ground up."
"And I guess mixed into butter," Ted said, looking at his sandwich.
Melanie sighed and gave up trying to explain.
"This is a mighty good...what do ya call it?" Ted asked.
"A sandwich," Melanie said.
Ted laughed.
"You put sand in there, too, eh?"
"No..." Melanie said, "there's no--"
But Ted wasn't listening anymore.  He was staring out of the kitchen window.
"Who is that there young fella out there, on that nag?" he asked.
Melanie looked where Ted was pointing.
"That's my brother, Pete.  Looks like he's riding his horse."
"Ridin'?" Ted said disgustedly.  "More like sittin' and hangin' on!  I've gotta go and set him to rights."
Ted ran towards the back door.  Melanie leaped up after him.
"No, wait, Ted!" she cried.  "Wait!"
Pete was in the pasture, cantering his horse, a big bay gelding named Loophole.  Melanie didn't know for sure how much her parents had paid for Loophole, but she knew it had been a lot--Loophole was no nag, that was for sure. 
Ted ran up to the fence and leaped over it.  Pete saw the cowboy running towards him and his eyes widened.  Then he saw Melanie, running at top-speed, after the cowboy.
"Melanie, what the heck is going on?" Pete yelled.
He slowed Loophole to a trot, and Ted ran up and grabbed the horse's bridle.
"You git down, you young rascal," Ted commanded.
Pete frowned down at Ted.  "Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm Ted." the cowboy said.  "I've just come to the...what do you folks call it?  The 'future'."
Pete looked at Melanie, who had just run up.  Melanie gasped for breath.
"My time machine, Pete!" she said finally, grinning up at her brother.
"Yep, I came here in a time mochine.  Real crazy." Ted said.
The three of them looked at each other.  Ted was still gripping Loophole's bridle.
"So," Ted said finally, "ya gonna git down or am I gonna halfta pull ya off?"
"What do you mean?" Pete said.
"I'm gonna show ya a thing er two about ridin'." Ted said, glaring at Pete.  "You gotta get straightened out about a few things."
Pete looked to Melanie for support.  Melanie just shrugged.
"Git down," Ted said.
Pete sighed and dismounted Loophole.  Ted threw his cowboy boot into the stirrup, and swung himself onto Loophole's back with incredible ease.  However, as soon as he was seated, Ted looked confused.
"What are these strange things ya use on yer hoss?" he asked. 
Pete gave Melanie a sideways glance.
"Um...a saddle and bridle," he said.
Ted laughed.
"Ya gotta be kiddin' me," he said.  "These pitiful things here can't be no saddle and bridle."
Pete threw up his hands.
"Well, never mind," Ted said, "I reckon these'll do...for now."
Ted nudged his spurs into Loophole's sides and yelled, "Git goin' now, hoss!"
Loophole was frightened and confused.  He shot forward like a bullet.
"Would you mind telling me where in the world that crazy guy came from?" Pete asked Melanie.
"Out West." Melanie said.
                                                                        ***
"Ted," Melanie said, gently but firmly, "you really frightened Loophole.  What were you trying to do?"
It had taken a lot of convincing on Melanie's part to talk Ted into getting off of Pete's horse.  Now, as Ted stood in front of her, adjusting his cowboy hat and grinning broadly, Melanie realized with some sadness that she should probably get Ted back to his own time as soon as possible.
"I were jus' showing that young scoundrel how to ride his hoss," Ted explained.  "I hope ya don't mind my sayin' so, Miss Melanie, but yer brother is real bad at ridin'."
Melanie couldn't help smiling at this.  Pete liked to talk about how his riding was always improving, and it was a nice change to hear a different opinion for once, whether Ted was right or not.  Melanie really didn't know, as she had never paid much attention to her brother's hobby, and didn't know much about riding.  She was more interested in inventing.
"Ted, let's go inside," Melanie said.  "I think we'd better--"
"What's that there thang, there?" Ted ask, elbowing Melanie and pointing.
What now?, Melanie thought, but followed Ted's finger. 
"Oh," Melanie said, "that's my dad's truck."
"Truck?" Ted said, slowly, scratching his head.
"Yeah, it's a car...oh, wait a minute." Melanie thought for a moment.  "You know," she said finally, "how in your time, most people use horses to get around?"
"Some of them use them pufferbellies, too," Ted said, nodding.
"What?" Melanie asked.
"Don't ya have pufferbellies in yer time?" Ted asked.  "You know, them long metal thangs pulled by iron horses."
"Iron...oh, trains?" Melanie asked.
"I reckon'," Ted said.
"Well," Melanie said, "...wait, what were we talking about?...Oh yeah.  In our time, we use a lot of cars, like my dad's truck over there."
"Is it anythang like a train?" Ted asked.  "It sure looks kinda like one."
"I guess you could say it's kind of like a train," Melanie said.  "Come on, I'll show it to you."
Ted eyed the truck rather suspiciously as they neared it. 
"It's not goin' to move, is it?" he asked Melanie, walking very cautiously towards the truck.
"Don't worry, it's not on," Melanie said.
Melanie opened the driver's door and got into the truck.  She moved over to the passenger's seat. 
"Come on," she said, "get in."
Ted very carefully climbed into the truck.
"What are these thangs?" he asked, pointing to the keys dangling from the ignition.
"Those are my dad's keys," Melanie explained.  "The one in the slot, there, turns on the truck, if you turn it."
Ted shook his head.  "Real crazy."
They sat silent for a few moments.
"Well," Melanie said, "should we get out?  I think it's about time we--"
Ted turned the key.  The engine roared to life.
"Holy smokes!  Sounds a bit like your time mochine, eh?" Ted hollered.
He grinned at Melanie.
"Uh, yeah," Melanie said nervously, "but, Ted, speaking of my time machine--"
"How does this thang move?" Ted asked.
"Ted," Melanie yelled over the harsh grind of the engine, "turn off the truck!"
"How do I do that?" Ted yelled back.
"Turn the key back towards you!" Melanie screamed.
There was nothing more frightening than being in a running truck with a cowboy behind the wheel.
Ted obediently turned the key.
The engine went off.
Melanie sighed with relief.
"I think it's about time we get you back home, Ted," she said.
"Home?" Ted said.  "Ya mean, back to lil' Silver Corner?"
"Yes," Melanie said.
Ted thought for a moment.
"Well," he said, "it's been a real pleasure visitin' your time here in the 21st Century, but I reckon' you're right.  It's time to go home."
Melanie nodded.  She hesitated for a second, and then grabbed Ted's hand.  They made their way up to the house and back into Melanie's bedroom.
Melanie opened the time machine door, and Ted climbed in.  She climbed in after him, and fastened the door shut, as she had before.
"It's been a real pleasure gettin' to know ya, Melanie," Ted said, nodding politely at Melanie, and shaking her hand.
"You too, Ted," Melanie replied.
Melanie pressed the power button.  The time machine came to life in an instant.  Melanie pulled a lever.  Louder and louder the time machine roared, and faster and faster blinked the green light.  Then, suddenly, all went dark.

The Sort of Old Archives: "How and Where Did the Dragon Get Its Name?"

Since I'm on winter break right now, I've been trying to post more on my blog for all of you. I thought you might enjoy some old writing of mine. Here is another addition to The Sort of Old Archives (see labels at the bottom of the post for more writing under this heading).
Here is a story from 2009, "How and Where Did the Dragon Get its Name?"

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a king.  A king with a very large castle.  A king with a beautiful crown.  A king who had power over all the lands his eyes could reach.  He wasn't a bad king, however.  This king was kind.  He was a king with great power, but a king with unlimited goodness.  His name was Good King Sebastion.  Good King Sebastion, or, King Sebastion, as I will be calling him, because it's much less awkward when one has to write it so many times, (although other people in the story will be calling him by his full title), was kind to people and animals alike.  He was kind to plants and trees.  All of his people loved him. 

Now, one day, King Sebastion recieved news that a man had just come into one of the villages near the castle, and was speaking badly of him. 
"Go get this man," King Sebastion ordered his messenger gently. 
"Yes, Sire," the messenger said, and went off to fetch the man who had been speaking so rudely of the kind king. 
A little while later the messenger came back; two guards followed the messenger, holding onto the man they had brought in. 
"Untie the man's hands," King Sebastion said to his guards.
"Yes, your Majesty, Good King Sebastion," one of them said, and the other nodded.
The guards quickly did as they were told, and left the throne room. 
"Now then," King Sebastion said, as the door closed behind the two guards, "what is your name, Good Sir?"
The messenger looked surprised.  King Sebastion didn't notice; he was watching the man closely.
The man spoke up bravely, for a brave man he was.
"Richard," he answered.
"Now then, Richard," King Sebastion said, "I have heard that you were speaking badly of me in one of my villages."
"Yes, Your Majesty, I was," Richard confessed, without any hesitation.
"I am wondering why."  King Sebastion said.  "I am kind to people, and animals, and plants, and trees, and I am wondering what it was that I did to you to deserve this.  Please tell me, so that I can set all to rights."
Richard was surprised.  He hadn't expected the king to be as good and kind as people had said he was.
"Well, Sire, may I have permission to speak freely?"  Richard asked.
King Sebastion nodded.
"Permission granted."  He agreed.
"Thank you, King Sebastion, Sire."  Richard said.  "Many years ago, I lived in that village where I was just now."
King Sebastion nodded again.
"Then one day, the other people of the village decided I was guilty of a crime I hadn't commited.  They wouldn't listen to an innocent man's pleas...they banished me from the village."
"How terrible."  King Sebastion said.
Richard nodded in agreement.
"I wandered around and lived in different places for a while, and then finally came back to my home village where I was greeted with scorn.  The people still remember me and they still think I commited the crime.  Well, I couldn't stand being accused any longer, and I began to speak rashly of you to get back at them."
"Aaaah, I see."  King Sebastion said.
"My greatest apologies to you, King Sebastion.  I can see that you are really as great and good and kind a king as your villagers said you are."
"My sincerest thanks.  I forgive you, Richard.  I do not believe in harsh punishment, but I would like you to solve a puzzle for me."
"Yes Sire, whatever it is, I will find the answer."  Richard promised.
"If you are able to solve it within a week's time, I will clear your name, and you may live once more in the village you love."
"Oh, my sincerest thanks to you, Good King Sebastion!"  Richard cried joyously, "but what is this puzzle?"
"Come back tomorrow at this time, and I will tell you."  King Sebastion promised.  "In the meantime, I will have one of my servants show you to a spare room.  I will make sure you get meals, and please feel free to wander around the public areas of the castle."
"Thank you, King Sebastion," Richard said, and he bowed, and then left with King Sebastion's servant. 

King Sebastion got out of his throne and stepped over to his favorite window of the throne room.  He sat in the wooden chair he had had put there long ago, at the start of his reign, and gazed out of the window, deep in thought.  He looked out over his lands.  Hours passed.  Soon it was time for supper, and King Sebastion still sat, thinking hard.  Finally, as the sun began to sink, he came up with the puzzle he would have Richard solve.  Out of the window, down below, he saw a strange creature.  It was sitting at the edge of the wood.  The creature was big.  It was bigger than three small village houses put together.  It was of a bright green hue: the color of healthy, lush grass.  As King Sebastion stared at it, he thought he saw that the creature had wings: great green wings of a strange shape.  The scaley creature's mean gaze, the spikes down its back and tail, and its non-retractable claws all looked terrifying.  King Sebastion, however, was not scared: he was completely captivated.  He had never seen the likes of this strange animal before. 
"Guards!"  He called.
The two guards who had been stationed just outside the throne room came hurrying in.
"Yes, Sire?"  One of them asked.
"Look at that strange creature out the window," King Sebastion commanded. 
The guards peered cautiously out.
"Sire, what a terrifying creature, Sire!"  One of them cried.
"Yes, Sire, yes!"  Agreed the other.
"Calm down, Good Sirs, calm down."  King Sebastion said gently.  "I want that creature to be caught right away."
"Then you want it to be killed?"  Asked one of the guards.
"Oh, goodness no, no, no," King Sebastion cried.  "I want it to be brought into the castle."
"That is pure madness!"  One of King Sebastion's guards burst out.
"Yes, Sire, pure madness!"  Agreed the other guard.  "Have you gone purely mad, Sire?"
King Sebastion laughed.
"No, no," he told them.  "I need that creature for something."
The guards looked at one another.
"Very well, Your Majesty."  One of the guards finally said.
"We will do as you wish, Good King Sebastion," agreed the other.
"Thank you.  Make sure that it is kept under control inside the castle, and that it has its own guard--and don't chain it up!  I believe in being kind to animals."
The guards promised to do all King Sebastion had commanded, and left, muttering softly to each other.
"Pure madness, pure madness..."  Said one.
"I agree, pure madness...pure madness...absolute pure madness."  Said the other.
King Sebastion didn't hear any of this.  He got up from his chair and went to have supper.

The next afternoon, Richard came into the throne room to meet with the King.
"Oh good, you've come, Richard."  King Sebastion said, smiling at him.
"Yes, King Sebastion, I have."  Richard said.  "I would like to know the puzzle I am to solve.  By the way, Sire, I noticed you have a dragon out there in the courtyard."
"A what?"  King Sebastion asked.
"Why, a dragon," Richard said. 
"Did you come up with that?"  King Sebastion asked.  "For I have never seen anything like that creature out there."
"Neither have I," Richard said.
"Then how--?"  King Sebastion said, greatly confused.
"Well, as I was coming over to the throne room, I see the creature wandering around in the circle of armed guards, and I say to myself, 'well,' I said, 'look at that; I've never seen the likes of it, but look how it drags its tail on,' and I thought, 'ah hah!  That's what I shall think of this creature as: a drag-on."
"You have solved the puzzle," King Sebastion said in amazement.
"I have?"  Richard said, "but, your Majesty, I don't even know what it is yet, and it hasn't been a week."
"Neither of those matter anymore, Richard," King Sebastion said hurriedly, "because the puzzle was to think up a name for that creature out there."
Richard stood there, dumb-struck, for a few seconds.
"You mean...I've solved the puzzle?"  He asked.
"Yes, indeed, Richard, my friend!"  King Sebastion cried happily.
I'm sure this was only the beginning of King Sebastion's adventures with a new creature known as a 'dragon'.
THE END




Tomorrow, look for a three part story, "The Cowboy from the Past."

from "The Sort of Old Archives": "Under The Eye of The Watchful Dragon"

When I think back to 2008, one of the main things I remember is how that year, I went totally crazy over The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia. More notably, I got in touch again with my friend Rene, whom I had not been writing to for a while...and then I suddenly got an email from her. That was one of the best things that has happened to me, because we have been very good friends ever since. One strange thing about 2008, which was 4 years ago but in some ways seems more than that, is that I didn't know Rene's cousin, Preciosa, yet. I didn't meet her until 2009, which is all thanks to Rene for getting us to chat one night on gmail!! :) Anyway, BEFORE some of the notable things about '08 happened, I wrote an allegorical story entitled, Under the Eye of The Watchful Dragon. If you think some of the names are really odd, just think about it for a moment and look at the names in a different way. If you can't figure it out, I understand and will be happy to tell you. Hope you enjoy this old story of mine!

8/19/08
 Under The Eye of The Watchful Dragon
by Katy Allie
My sword was in its sheath, but I felt that right about then I should have been holding it.  The dragon was still coming towards me, no matter how still I tried to be.  I saw his huge claws, sharp and white, slicing through the dirt as he walked slowly, coming closer and closer.  I pulled my sword from its sheath and swung it towards the creature.  The dragon snapped, and nearly bit the metal in half.  The dragon opened his mouth, and put his head on my level.  Fearing for my own life, I continued holding the sword in front of me. 
"Put away your sword--he who lives by the sword, dies by it," the dragon said, greatly startling me.
"Explain yourself, Creature," I commanded as I noticed burn marks from the dragon’s hot breath on my sword.
"I am Susej."
"My name is Midnight," I told Susej, still unsure of the talking creature.
"Princess Midnight of Yravlac Castle?"
"Yes, but why do you want to know?  Furthermore, why did you stalk me?"  I asked the huge green dragon.
Susej turned and pulled an object from behind a tree.  It was a small piece of paper, sealed with my father's mark.
Inside it merely stated,
Dear Midnight,
Come back to Yravlac.
Love, Father
"Why do I have to go back to Yravlac?"
"You are needed.  Your father sent me.  We will be traveling back to Yravlac, and you will be under the eye of the Watchful Dragon."

For two hours Susej led me through the woods, and then we stopped and rested.
"Susej, why am I needed back at the castle?"  I asked, leaning back on the rock I was sitting on.
"You will find out."  Susej said.
Suddenly two more dragons came lumbering out of the woods.
"Retep, Samoht...I found Princess Midnight," Susej told the two other dragons, which were smaller than him.
Ten more dragons, all the size of Retep and Samoht, followed the first two. 
"Under the eye of the Watchful Dragon," I thought, but even this was a small comfort when surrounded by thirteen enormous dragons.  Twelve of them were smaller, but they weren't small.
Retep laid down some large fish on a fire that Susej had made.
"Are these your friends, Susej?"  I asked.
"These are my srewollof," he explained.
I remembered that srewollof meant 'those who follow' in our language, Ssorc.
As we ate the cooked fish, Susej began to explain our journey.
"Midnight, when we arrive at Yravlac, you will be faced with the hardest battle of your life.  That's all I'm going to say."
Susej stopped talking, and picked up the last fish.  Breaking it in half, he said,
"This is my wing, broken for all srewollof.  Take and eat, and remember you are always under the eye of the Watchful Dragon."
"There's that phrase again," I thought.
Picking up a small wooden cup with his large teeth, Susej continued,
"This is my fire, shed for all srewollof.  Drink of it, all of you, and once again remember that you are always under the eye of the Watchful Dragon."
We did as Susej said, and then we all slept.

Susej had all the other dragons and I up early in the morning. 
"We must reach Yravlac just before sunset tonight," he told all of us.
After a breakfast of more fish, we set off.  The woods became darker as we came nearer to Yravlac, and it was the first time that had ever happened, as far as I knew.  Susej became more and more sad as we continued.
"What's wrong with Susej?"  I asked Samoht quietly.
Nhoj heard the question.
"I'll ask him," said Nhoj as Samoht said,
"I don't know."
"What is wrong, Master?"  Nhoj asked Susej.
"You are my srewollof now, but all of you except for Midnight will fall away on the account of me," said Susej, who had stopped walking and was facing all of us.
"Except for Midnight?"  I thought.
"I will never fall away on your account, Master Susej," Samoht insisted.
Susej had pools of tears in his beautiful eyes as he said,
"Before the king blows his horn at the first light of day, you will deny that you ever knew me."
With this startling conversation finished, Susej told all of us we had better continue.

The drawbridge of Yravlac was down when we arrived there.  The sun was about to set when the thirteen dragons and I walked into Yravlac's courtyard.  My father walked forward, along with my mother, and they both hugged me.
"How good to have you back, Princess Midnight," my father said.
As my father greeted and thanked Susej and his srewollof, a crowd of people began to crowd around.  However, instead of greeting me and my new dragon friends, they began to throw eggs at Susej.
"Get that dragon out of here!" and "Kill him!" filled the castle.
My father, startled, looked at his once peaceful people, and asked,
"Should I crucify your Master?!?"
The people all starting shouting 'yes'.
"Father!  Don't kill my friend.  Why are the people so angry?"  I said anxiously.
"Kill the dragon!  He always says he is the son of the Watchful Dragon!” the whole crowd began to shout.
My father yelled,
"I will not have this dragon die by my hands.  If you want him dead, you will have to do it on your own."
My father, having finished his speech, put his face in his hands and sobbed.

The crowd bound the feet of Susej together, and there wasn't anything even a princess could do to make them stop.  They whipped the dragon, and the rest of the dragons and I watched the whole thing silently, only comforting Susej when the crowd was distracted for whatever reason.  My father and mother walked to their throne room, not being able to bear what was happening.  Late evening came, and the crowd was done with Susej, having rigged him so that he was hanging from the two back turrets.  The ropes were around his scaly belly, hanging him securely to the back of the castle.  The twelve other dragons had fallen asleep in the courtyard, but I walked up to Susej.  I pulled a cart over and climbed up on it so that I could see Susej eye to eye as the dragon died in pain.
"Susej, the srewollof have all fallen asleep."
Susej managed a small smile.
"Your comforting words helped me earlier this evening, Beloved Midnight."
"Susej?"
The dragon's eyes were shutting.
"Yes?"
"You are under the eye of the Watchful Dragon."
Susej managed one last little smile.
"He is also with you."

The next morning when I woke up, I found I was lying on the cart below Susej.  He was dead.  The rest of the dragons were just waking up. 
"Susej is dead.”  I told them.
Samoht looked at me.
"Who?"
The other dragons also gave me a quizzical look.
"Who?"
Just then my father blew the morning horn.  Sadly, I went to join my parents for breakfast.
"Susej is dead."  I told my parents.
My father and mother were a sad as I was, but my father had a question for me.
"Susej told you that when you got here, you would face the hardest battle in your life, right Midnight?"
"Yes."
"Do you know why?"
"It's the battle between good and evil.  It's a test for my faith, as well as for all those who believe in the Watchful Dragon, like you, and Mother," I said decidedly.
"Yes, Midnight," said my father.
Suddenly we heard a noise.  It sounded like the roar of fire.  The three of us ran out onto the balcony which ran all the way around the castle and which looked down onto Yravlac's courtyard.  There was Susej, free of ropes and alive.
All at the same time my parents, myself and the twelve srewollof shouted,
"Susej!"
The three of us ran down to the courtyard and greeted Susej once again.
"Midnight, you are strong because of your faith in God.  Let it be known, that all of you, even my crucifiers and betrayers, are under the eye of the Watchful Dragon!"
Under The Eye of The Watchful Dragon, Copyright 2012, by Katy Allie. All rights reserved.

From "The Sort of Old Archives": The Alternate Origin of the Term "Bah Humbug"

My family has always been very supportive of my writing. They're willing to read it, proof-read it, critique it, and enjoy it even if it's not the best. They've also had their favorites of my writing, and, in my fiction, they've had their favorite characters. Probably their favorite of all (and probably mine too) is my character, Zack Hiller. I wrote one story about a man who lived in a unique house with his kitten, and it turned into many stories about him and his adventures and mishaps. However, let's not get ahead of ourselves. The first was entitled, The Alternate Origin of the Term "Bah humbug", and here it is, straight out of "The Sort of Old Archives": which, in this case, is 2009.

The Alternate Origin of the Term "Bah humbug"

a sort of fairy tale by Katy Allie

Most everyone knows that the term "Bah humbug" was first used in Charles Dickens' The Christmas Carol; it was a grouchy expression used by the book's main character, Scrooge. Here I have an alternate origin for this strange term.
Once upon a time, there lived a man named Zack Hiller; people said his last name was Hiller because he lived on a sort of a hill--but it was more like a very small mountain, for the hill was small, but very pointed on the top, which was why Zack's house had to be built elsewhere on the hill--which brings me to why everyone thought Zack was a little off his rocker. For Zack's house was partway down--or part way up--whichever you prefer--the hill, and because it was, after all, a hill, the house was on a slant, and so it was built at an angle. When you opened up Zack's door on your way out, you would find yourself maybe a bit closer to the ground than was normal. If you were to open Zack's front door to go into the house, you would come in, and, as you looked towards the back of the house, you would see that very gradually the house's floor sloped upwards. Such was Zack's house.
"Zack's house is at an angle; that's why his brain is at an angle," people would say to each other, and laugh, or shake their heads in pity for the man.
It never occured to any of these people that perhaps it was the other way around--that perhaps Zack had built his house at an angle, because his brain was already at an angle. Whichever way it was, Zack was a bit eccentric, and people didn't visit him much because of this, which couldn't help his strangeness. He was also very bitter most of the time--"That Zack Hiller, he is such a grouch," people would say, and they wouldn't visit him for months, years even, in some cases--and so more and more bitter Zack became; his only joy was his little kitten, Minstrel.
"Come along, Minstrel," Zack would say to his kitten, although he didn't need to--the kitten followed him wherever he went.
Into town the two walked, and through the fields. Over known roads and barely-known roads they would walk slowly, enjoying the outdoors and especially one another's company. Minstrel would get tired if they walked for too long, and Zack would pick him up and put the kitten gently into his jacket pocket.
Well, one day the two came home from a trip into town, worn out and ready for a drink of water. Zack set Minstrel on his kitchen counter, and set a heavy box behind the kitten, so that Minstrel wouldn't slide backwards, down the sloped surface. Looking around, Zack realized that he had to go outside to get Minstrel's water bowl.
"I'll be right back, Minstrel," Zack promised his kitten, patting him on the head.
The kitten purred loudly and watched Zack leave the house, rumbling the whole time. Zack went to the side of his house, spotted the water bowl just where he thought it would be, and picked it up. Going back around to the front of his house, he went up the front steps, and then heard a strange sound which made him hesitate.
"Hmmmmmmmm-bzzzzzzzzzzz..."
Then he realized what it was. It was an insect caught between the screen door and the wooden door. Now, Zack didn't know that, (1) insects and bugs are not the same thing, and, (2) he didn't know what the difference was, either.
"Bah...humbug!" he said angrily, annoyed at the insistent humming and buzzing, but prepared to just ignore the insect.
"Hmmmmmmmm-bzzzzzzzzzzz..."
Zack opened the screen door and tried to shoo the insect (it was a beetle, in case you're curious) out from between the doors.
"Out you go, you stupid humbug," Zack said, not realizing he had just invented a new name.
"Hmmmmmmmm-bzzzzzzzzzzz...." the humbug insisted.
"Out! Out! Out, you stupid humbug, out!" Zack cried angrily.
Inside the house he heard Minstrel crying loudly.
"I'll be right in, Minstrel!" he called.
The mewing stopped.
"Hmmmmmmmm-bzzzzzzzzzzz..." the humbug started in again.
It was still caught in between the doors.
"Mr. Hiller?"
Zack turned to see Mr. James standing there, watching him with an exceedingly amused expression. Mr. James, one of Zack's neighbors, was trying to keep from laughing.
"Ha ha..." Zack said, faking a laugh.
"Humbug?" Mr. James said, nearly bursting into laughter.
"Yes, I guess so..." Zack said, looking at the ground, and realizing the full extent of what he had done.
"Ha, ha, haw, haw, ha, ha, ha!" Mr. James began to laugh hysterically. "You're a riot, Zack! You're really something else!"
Mr. James continued to laugh as he turned and went down the hill.
"Hmmmmmmmmm-bzzzzzzzzzzzz..." the humbug said.
"Don't you start up again!" Zack yelled.
The humbug flew out from between the doors and went away, leaving a very disgruntled and embarrassed Zack Hiller behind on his doorstep.
Mr. James, the old gossip that he was, spread the word that Zack had created a new term--"Bah humbug"--to use when one was being annoyed by a bug or an insect, that continuously made humming noises. Poor Zack listened as his term began to be used, first as a joke and a way to poke fun at Zack, and then, to everyone's surprise, but especially Zack's, it caught on and was used in all seriousness by folks who heard the insistent humming and buzzing of a 'humbug'. As for the name, 'humbug', it was used for any bug or insect that was being annoying in any way.
If one heard,
"Hmmmmmmmmm-buzzzzzzzzzzzz...",
they would immediately say, "Bah, humbug!"

THE END

The Alternate Origin of the Term "Bah Humbug". Copyright 2012, by Katy Allie. All rights reserved.