Freeform.

-

As Garth solemnly at his breakfast in the staff room he wondered what it would be like to live a life without free time.  Spare moments of nothingness, where having entertaining daydreams are urgently required.

He appeared as the every day office worker – neat attire, hair in place, simple glasses with the occasional coloured tie, the everyday life suited him happily. He had underwear for every day of the week.
Not that he was against the position he had found himself in, the comfy chair, an endless supply of coffee and the newspaper readily available daily – he just found himself wanting more…
Not possessions or things, his collection of collections was impressive – something, he feels, is missing from his everyday. Metaphorically like an itch you can’t quite reach. We all have those.

A co-worker strode into the staff room with a smirk on his face.
“My place tonight mate! I’m going to clean you out, I can just feel it!” Tony quipped. Every Thursday night Garth and a few workmates had a friendly competitive game of poker.
“Just like you promised last week” Garth flatly responded, careful not to spill his coffee.

-

A golden light was akin to an orb hanging in the ‘man cave’. Three figures sat hunched in an almost deep trance, cigar smoke filtered the clean air.

“Read ‘em an weep lads!”  Tony jeered.
Steve folded emphatically “Full house, nice one Tony”
Garth sighed and slowly dropped his hand “Full house, aces high…”
“Every damn time! Cut me a break man!” Tony waved his hands around.
“I’ll grab another round” Steve wandered out into the kitchen.

Garth sat back nonchalantly. “Do you guys think that sometimes we were made to do more?”
There was a short silence, the atmosphere becoming thoughtful, amid the golden haze.
“How do you mean? Work more? Tony offered.
“More so, more meaning? I feel like I can predict the future for the next thirty years…I’ll grow a beard, have a midlife crisis, buy a Porsche and marry a mail order bride from Russia..” Garth finished as he opened another beer.
“Ah that’s the beauty of it though mate” said Steve handing a beer to Tony “keep it simple! Why live with added stress. Plus a mail order bride would you suit you – no commitment!”

They all laughed, true enough Garth thought, true enough.  

-

Perhaps they’ll notice a slight ripple.
It would be disastrous for the populace, but as it is always the case with such things, sacrifices must be made.
Scratching the back of it's head through a think black hood, a lone figure seemed to be contemplating his next move, while staring into the orb on the pedestal in front of him. The only object in the middle of the vast space, which was surrounded by dusty books, scraps of paper and empty goblets. The room seemed to have character in itself, the walls laden with shelves and random objects in every nook and crevice, each stone seemed to be watching the figures every move in the dim light.
“So do we…just do, and then…see?” the figure said aloud.

The walls offered no reply.
As they often do, merely watching silently.

-

 Green luminous lights on Garths bedside table told him that it was 6:55.
He missed out on another 5 minutes sleep.
Sighing, he rose and started his daily rituals.

-

The hooded figure was sitting down on a stool, hunched over – pondering deeply in a corner of the same room.  

Should, there should be a solution…there’s always an answer…

He deliberated internally. Then stood up swiftly and moved over to the orb, two silver lights where eyes are often located lit up within the hood as he peered into the circular object.

A vestige slivered around the orb, flickering.
The figure stretched out both of his arms, his left was akin to a humans, his right arm however was not altogether identifiable and was blackened with what looked like thorns almost wrapped around his forearm.

The vestige began to rapidly spin around the orb; a light humming could be heard emanating from the centre of the room. The hooded figure stood, arms firmly out – rigidly guiding the sliver out of the orb. His body seemed to be struck in stone, transfixed to the floor as he keenly concentrated on his task.

Once free from the orb, the sliver stopped twitching and suddenly stopped above the orb. A blast of light, shattering the orb and the pedestal in the room, suddenly there appeared a door sized silver panel.

The hooded figure slowly lowered his arms, and appeared to be confused. If the hood were removed one would imagine an eyebrow well above the other one.
He took a step forward and inspected the blank screen that had just appeared, peering into the scene he could make out, seemingly confused.

 

Suddenly there was a ‘pop’ – and the hooded figure disappeared.
Leaving the room empty.

The walls looked on as the silver panel slowly shrunk, and faded.

_

 

Everything changes, people, places...
You wake up one day and decide you are a vegetarian like one of those people who think cows are sacred and worship them...

Mr. Frisk leant over the shoulder of his friend, his heavy Irish accent, piercingly sarcastic and blunt.

“Well, that’s pretty ain’t it? All deep and such, are you a faggot Jimmy?”
Jimmy spat back quickly.
“I ain’t no fucking faggot, just scribbling in my book – just cos I have a fucking brain on me don’t make me a fucking faggot Frisk”
Mr. Frisk ruffled his friends hair mockingly, took a deep gulp of his pint and sat down next to Jimmy.
“If you were so smart, you’d have a better job now wouldn’t ya?” He chuckled.
Jimmy just shook his head and continued scribbling.

The bell chimed on the bar door, Mr. Frisk casually cast a glace over his shoulder and placed his pint down. “Time to go”

When you’re a middle classed scumbag who has never had anything go to plan, you end up doing and being someone you’d never guess you’d be, at places you either didn’t know existed or didn’t want to know existed.

Hit men, gangsters, and chasers – however you say it, it’s not pretty work at all.
The agents that do the work however, maintain a liberal flow of information throughout their network, and they’re loyal, fiercely and blindly loyal.

Information passes quickly through the network though, people use information in this context. When they have naught else of worth, word of mouth is sometimes very, very, valuable.
These men are loyal though, very loyal.

 

But when you need something done quickly in the, shadier neighbourhoods, it pays to know which door to knock on.

Especially when, in this day and age travel is – well, planetary.

-

‘You almost done?’

‘Just a sec’
‘Whenever you’re ready…’ there was an audible click.

‘uh-huh’
Working with the same partner has it’s, upsides and downsides.
You do obviously develop an almost symbiotic link.
However, there are some would say that it isn’t natural to spend that much time with another person. Caves have long since gone as places of habituating, meaning humans have evolved past primitive close proximity.  

The impatient seeming man is Charles. You can be forgiven for making the assumption that he is impatient, but he is just trying to do his job and get back in time, and clock off.

His partner, or permanent work colleague as he preferred to be referred to, is Nate. Nate is the burly brawny type, Charles can manage himself just fine, but also had the mental capacity to stay on point. Nate isn’t necessary dim at all, just – aloof sometimes, mentally.

‘Clocks ticking…’
‘Yep. Done’
‘Good to go?’

Nate just nodded.

Charles stood up slowly, his long trench coat encasing his medium size frame neatly. He turned around and surveyed the scene.

 

Papers and parchment strewn around the room, a large mahogany desk was laden with documents, candles and volumes, of course it was mahogany, Charles thought. The walls were laden with eclectic items that were foreign to most people.  

Candles were alight around the walls, in holders forged from wrought iron – they seemed to eternally burn. Charles sifted through the documents and items thoughtfully, as he surveyed the contents of the room ponderously.

The Wizard was onto something, that much was clear, Charles and Nate must’ve just missed him, his trace was vibrating around the room.

 

The small device that Nate was hunched over started whirring and buzzing erratically.

Charles pulled out a fob watch.
It had no face, it was deep black with two silver dots, one smaller spinning clockwise on the edge with a larger one going anti-clockwise closer to the center.
Charles seemed almost complacent, about the whole ordeal.
‘It’s ready’ Nate announced as the small device continued to buzz – a small light emanated from the top, Nate out stretched his arm, and opened his hand, the whole device then moved up into the air swiftly, before coming to a sudden stop. Both men watched on as the light from the device began to get stronger.
At head height, the small device was now enveloped in the light; it began to resemble a mirror.

 

- -

 

Garth was humming to himself, filing weekly reports.
Thursday was really the last working day of the week inside an office; Friday was compulsory attendance day after all. 

 

He glanced at the small clock on his desk – red luminous digital lights signaled that the end of the day was close, just a couple of more jobs to do, and all of his tasks were complete. YouTube would finish the remainder of the afternoon off nicely.

- -

 

Nate peered into the mirror that now took up most of the space in the Wizards study. The edges almost hissing as the device producing the mirror struggling to contain the raw energy.

‘This really it?’

Charles looked up from his fob watch.
 

‘It would appear so’

Nate continued to peer into the mirror, looking oddly confused at the contents.

 

- -

 

Garth returned to his desk, inside his cubicle. A couple of clicks later, the vast library of YouTube was within his reach. Garth loved Thursday afternoons.

- -

 

‘Ready?’ Charles asked.

‘Yeah’
‘Commencing in 5, 4, 3…’ Charles counted down, looking back at his watch.

-

 

Garth sat happily, his weekly series on YouTube was about to launch.
He reclined back in his ergonomic desk chair, and…

 

Suddenly – there was a swirling noise within the office, a slight ruffling of the papers within Garth’s cubicle…

 

...And his monitor simply disappeared. Garth froze, mouth ajar, hand absently hovering above his mouse…

 

-

It was her eyes.
They caught you, electric, seemingly having their own pulse vibrant blue, exciting and dangerous her sharp features accenting their effect.
Glorious golden hair framed her look...

She was a goddess.

 

- -

“Yeh can’t simply, waltz in ‘ere y’know – we got rules, we got order”
“Yeh! Order!”
“...and that’s fact. Y’know?”
Gruel slapped onto his bowl, not the most appetizing meal, but it did the job.
“Yeah! Fact”

Mr.Frisk sat down next to his companion.

“So, what you’re saying is – I have a certain, code, that I must follow, while here?”
Intelligent types spend more time trying to fit in, than actually fitting in. Of course, they’re usually spotted and taken away to bigger and better things.
“Yeh, we can tell you all about it if ya like” his thick accent thicker with food dribbling all over his chin.
“I see.  I do suppose you charge an acceptable fee?”
Mr. frisk bobbed his head enthusiastically.
“Yah, accep-ta-ble”

- -

 

The council chamber bustled busily; squires fluidly traversed the smooth stones as they ran about with various notes, messages and items for their Lords.
A large round table was laden with parchment, and bodies. The King was only identifiable with the thin crown that adorned his head during such proceedings.

The King, was not known for his kindness, however he was logical and did attend to the needs of his people justly. His face was rough, with bristles of neatly trimmed facial hair. 

I’m his son, and while he’s impartial to the people, his treatment of his family is firm. While I do love him and am, thankful for the guidance and tutelage gifted to me. I can’t trust him.

And haven’t since I learnt the truth.

“The Council will now proceed” The speaker announced. Most of the activity ceased, parchment stopped flying abruptly.
“In the matter that we all know of, the corruption within our fair society – needs to be addressed. Swiftly, and with the full force available to the council”
The men of the council all nodded unanimously. They had already sworn their fealty to the King, and his authority was never challenged.

Controlled.

While I do love my father, his will – while being King has become more, predictable. The Kingdom has been at peace for recent history, the coffers steady, even taxes haven’t deviated in the last decade. As a young boy, you take no notice to such things, but as I’ve grown in my mind and become more aware, I began to see more, hear more.
A Castle is an easy place to hide in, many small rooms and twisting corridors with doorways a plenty. Sound carries though, and shadows bounce while light flickers.

As a young boy, I would scamper around until my father would usher me aside for “The governing of the people comes first, I must serve”.
I was in awe of my father, and yearned to be included.

My educator was, as you would expect, he was the senior advisor for my grandfather, and spent his entire life tending to my family.
He was very pragmatic and patient with me, I spent many long evenings with him, watching candles flicker.

 

“Very well” I was brought back to the reality of the council. “My Lord, will the punishment be immediate?”

I looked to my father, I already knew. He drew himself up slowly.
“I must maintain order and set this man, as an example, for all to see. Gareth – bring my sword”
 

Numbness took me, I felt somewhat apart from my body as I followed the council to the beheading.
The majority of the townsfolk were assembled already. Drab cloaks and dirty garb was strongly contrasted to the affluent dress of the council. Money walks.

My accomplice and I knew all along, that should either of us be discovered – the other would continue work towards the end state. The Purge.
I shivered, the wind whipped across the peak savagely, last nights snowfall had been brushed away. I hugged my cloth closer to my body as I circled the back of the assembled folk, and looked inwards as they brought the convicted to the stand.
I dared not make it obvious, but I hastly caught his eye as they read out the charge. I winked; he gave me a knowing look.
We’d worked together for a long time, at times struggling to gather any information for our cause.  His death will not be in vain.

“Angus Bartholomew – commonly known as Murgh – do you have anything final to speak, before justice has it’s swing?”

Murgh looked upwards slowly, past the crowd, and the nobles around him and shook his head.

The Speaker wasted no time.

“Very well. You are hereby sentenced to, death. My Lord?” He extended his hand a towards my father – the rich red velvet rippled.
My father stood up from his seat to the side of the stand, and steadily made his way towards the people.

“We tend to any sickness swiftly. This is no different”
Gareth got up and held out my father’s sword.
Murgh continued to look up, to above.

The wind continued to graze everyone upon the peak, watching on. There was no chanting, or yelling. The people saw a traitor, a criminal.

Many eyes, and still they don’t see.

- -

 

[]

- -

 

Murgh’s head hit the stand with a dull thud. The silence felt toxic to him, so still. Forced obedience.
His father had denied Murgh any spiritual guidance in the passage to above – simply had his body raised up, for all to see.
 

The townsfolk began to disperse.   
He stood apart from the council, and observed Murgh.
The council began to rise.
“Prince [], do you have anything you wish to voice?” The Speaker asked.
Immediately the numbness lifted, the cold snapped.
“Excuse me?” he responded.
“Don’t play the fool. I’m aware of what you’ve been doing” His father had his back turned to him, but the words still impacted.
“Do you have anything to say?” He turned briskly.
“Father – I…”
“Get him!” His father’s rage was now evident, barely contained.
The council men had acted subtly, their guards were coming through both exits back towards the town, sword hands atop their hilts. 
The youn prince wheeled around – all that extended behind me was the Ellargth Ranges, snow capped peaks that lead eventually to the woodlands, and the realm beyond.
The guards were moving swiftly, beginning to encircle the stand – knowing he was trapped.

The King was screaming at the guards to apprehend the criminal the council men up in arms around him. The guards, in their long black cloaks, black helmets, had now drawn their swords.

Disbelief had taken []. His mind raced.
He had to escape, had to risk the Ranges…

 

- -

[]

- -

I ran.
The steep ascent was made easier; the snow wasn’t as thick on the side.
I knew once I reached the peak that it would slow me down.
My father’s voice was now far behind me – his rage would be venomous now. The Guard isn’t allowed to miss a mark, if I got away and they couldn’t retrieve my body – they’d be banished as well. Until proof of my death.

My cloak was getting thick with the dampness of the snow; I ripped it off and left it just beneath the peak, and hastily covered it in snow.
Panting I stole a look back, the guard had fanned out in pursuit and looked like black wraiths contrasted against the snow.

The castle had shrunk quickly. I took a moment and swore that I’d sooner go above than return to the Kingdom.

Turning about – I hastened, toward the Ranges, towards whatever was to come next, and getting as far a distance between my pursuers…

 

- -

 

There was a slight buzzing in the air, the sound grew stronger and all of a sudden a man wearing generic business attire appeared.

Garth looked like he’d just been thrown into a vortex and spat out again. He wobbled slightly on his feet, before gradually becoming aware of his surroundings.

Gaining focus and gathering himself he looked around, and saw that he was in the middle of what appeared to be a middle age-esque style main road. Horse drawn carts and gritty townsfolk scurried around while the clearly better off made sure not to step onto anything unsavoury.
Garth looked down as his watch, and then looked at it intently.

It wasn’t telling the time; it was spinning wildly around in circles, all three hands whirring around frantically.

Odd.
 

- -

Appearances can be deceiving, in the long life that Wizards embody on each plane, they all learn this. The young, wise. The weak – often strongest of us all, and those who have power – are those without any.

Nevertheless, there is always a task to be carried out, and while time is usually of the essence…

The Wizard suddenly stopped scribbling and looked up from his parchment.
He was in a library – surrounded by tome upon tome of this existences histories, culture and so on.

Candlelight kept the shadows at bay where possible, while occupants searched for the answers to their questions, or furthered their knowledge to be able to ask more questions.

Useless…

He aprubtly stood up and walked out. He couldn’t explain why he had failed to retrieve the…man, that sad excuse for, what did they call him? The marked.

There was no record he could find that mentioned a ‘marked’ in all the records he searched. He dare not mention his task to any other, agents it is well known listen and peer everywhere.

He was stumped. 
So, he did what all do when faced of a similar predicament.

Went and had a drink.

- -

Garth wandered along the footpath, bewildered by everything around him.
His phone was useless.

[ … ]

 

 

 

- -

 

The young prince had been running for days.
Living off what the woodlands could provide, he had mostly eaten what he could forage, small berries and mushrooms. He risked a cooking a couple of rabbits when the hunger had become too much – obscuring the light from the flames of his fire.

 He knew the guards would still be chasing him, but he hoped he had thrown them off his trail. He’d heard tales growing up of what lied beyond the ranges, over East, where the sun dwellers lived. He would start a fresh, and forge his own way – far away from the oppression and control of his father.

He turned his thoughts away from the past, and focused on moving east. Covering all marks of his short stop, he picked up and continued on, through the dense undergrowth.
 

- -

Garth had never been one to travel. He wasn’t against the idea, but he just lacked, well, conviction. Far from being comfortable, he realised that panic was not the best option, it was clear he had somehow been thrown back in time, he figured he was in some part of early Europe as he had picked up conversations in a variant of English among other dialects.

Fingering his pocket he found some change he had on him, and hoped that it would be sufficient to get something to eat, so he settled on a nearby tavern, or inn, whichever suited the place.

-

 

Mr. Charles ‘popped’ into plain sight, Nate beside him.
Immediately more aware of their surroundings than Garth was, they stepped forward with apparent purpose.

 

-

 

The Wizard, enjoying his ale moreso than he anticipated was happily humming along to the tune inside his head at the bar. Every few swigs, he waved his hand and his drink would refill.
 

-

 

Garth looked about the room absently, it seemed pleasant enough, he wandered up to bar and motioned the barman over.
“Uh, Hell-o…can I place an order?”
“Mmph, wat wud ya like?” The barman had thankfully spoken simple English.
“What can I get for” He produced the coins in his pocket “this?”
The barman squinted at the foreign currency.
“Ahs, they look shiny enough – I’ll get ya a samwich an an’ ale” then waddled off.

Garth pulled up a stool and sat down.

“Tweedle-dum,dum, dee..”
A happy old man next to him was humming along to himself.
 

The barman placed the meal and drink in front of Garth.
“So, uh, where am I?” he asked.

The old man stopped humming.
 

-


Dreamscape.

She was, everything to him.
He was, all she ever needed.
Neither of them came to fully appreciate, their relationship -
Until of course it was too late.

Now, they feign distance.
If only, I was born without feelings he would ask.
If only, you were here she’d say.
He would, if he had the choice.
He’d be there.
But she, won’t make the change to be with him.
She can’t – it’s too much to ask.
Even though others have paid the same price.

He does see others struggle,
To make it.
To be happy.


-

Reality. Garth seemed to feel like time wasn’t relative anymore.
The events that lead him to the room he was in now seemed to have past in the blink of an eye…

He looked around. He wasn’t in the tavern, but he could’ve sworn he just put a tankard or a pint or whatever it was back down on the bar…. and there was an old man…

The room he was in however, look remarkably, well, familiar…
The light blue tones, artificial air… he was back in his office…

A door opened and quickly shut behind him.
“Garth is it?”
He swiveled around in his chair.
It was his manager.. “Y-Yes Mr. Jacobs, I uh …”
“Good way to make a first impression, look me up did you?”
Garth was dumfounded.
“Uh, yeah but –“
“Now, before we get too far into this interview, please just give me a quick 5 minute talk about yourself and why you think your suited to working at this company”

Garth blinked. Clearly this was a dream, or some hallucinogen – where did that bloody old man go.

“Well, I –“
Mr. Jacobs suddenly stood up “Sorry, please just give me a moment…”
Without waiting for a response he left the room, leaving Garth alone.
Bewildered, he was just about to -

“Garth! There you are? What are you doing in here!”
He turned and saw Tony.
“Hiding out after last night? Told you I would clean you out! Haha”
“Last night? The poker night?”
Tony laughed “Yeah, you were on a hot streak and BAM! Old Tone’ here reminded you how good he was!”

Garth couldn’t really make out the details of that night anymore, but figured it was best to play along with Tony. If it was really Tony.

He led Tony out of the small cubicle, and back to the lunch room.
It was exactly the same as he could remember.

Garth found himself back at his generic workstation – taking note that every item was exactly as he left it; cube of rainbow post it notes, assortment of desk figurines, the pile of clients he had to follow up on.

Perhaps, it was all just a daydream.

-

Mr. Charles was furious.
Nate could tell – he always seemed, crackly…

He picked up his step to keep pace with his much more intelligent counterpart.
Nate didn’t ask many questions, he’d been told on multiple occasions that he shouldn’t, unless asked or ‘by some apparent divine inspiration whereby you’ve noticed something I haven’t are you permitted to bring something up that I have failed to take note of which will provide insight into whatever it may be we are doing at the time’.

Which, Nate knew, meant don’t speak.

Mr. Charles was almost at the point of perspiring.
He had an elevated heart rate, he felt flustered, his skin was warm and at the nether regions of this form.

He looked at his watch and suddenly stopped.
‘Wait!’ Nate almost ran straight into him. He laughed.
‘We have some time, the daft old fool has rushed in an attempt to keep us on the back foot. But we shall give valiant chase!’

Nate blinked. He didn’t know what valiant meant, he grabbed a small notebook from his trouser pocket and wrote it down.

 

-

 

Snow had covered the treetops and rocky outcrops in a thick blanket of white.
The young prince knew he had but only a few more days to survive out in the wilderness before he reached the next village. His appearance, now rugged and even scraggly would hide his identity well – he hoped he wouldn’t need to give himself away until nearer the coastline.

The wilderness was a lonely place when winter had set in. He had often heard rangers and hunters explain this to him growing up within the castle walls, he was never allowed to venture far in the colder months. His experiences past the wall growing up were little use to him here – surviving moreso on instinct.

He did know that he would need a decent feed soon, his body had lost much of it’s mass, and field mushrooms and the occasional berry and fruit he could scavenge were not enough.

Reaching a peak he overlooked the path ahead – the scenery was breathtaking.
Peaks dotted the skyline behind him, and ahead all he could see was a white snowy ocean of the woodlands. The border of his father’s kingdom was not far off. Each step he took increased his resolve.

-