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Revenge of the Clichéd Characters: Part One: The Quest
Part Two: Call
To Council Danger! Revisions can Cause Throbbing Headaches
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Revenge of the Fairies
Part Two
It
was a calm and quiet afternoon...the kind that often occurs after a dark
and stormy night. The forest was cloaked in shadows and sunlight dappled
the moldy leaves on the trail. Somehow it did nothing to improve their
looks or smell but Cahil ignored the less than aromatic odor and continued
to eat his lunch. The whispered question startled Cahil, causing him to drop his hummus and eggplant sandwich. He cursed under his breath and glared angrily into the shadows. He hated being surprised. "Who's there?" "Are they gone?" the voice was slightly louder this time but the speaker remained hidden. Cahil peered into the darkness, but it was like trying to see something in a place that's so dark you can't see anything, which in fact it was, but that was no comfort under the circumstances. "It would help if you told me who you were hiding from," Cahil said, his temper getting shorter by the moment. He stooped to pick up the sandwich, inspected it carefully, flicked off a bit of dirt, and took a bite. A pixie stepped out of the shadows and glanced up at Cahil. "You're awfully brave. Didn't you see them?" "Who!?" Cahil demanded, talking around a mouthful of sandwich. "The elf, the dwarf, the dragon and the naysayers." At Cahil's puzzled frown, the pixie gave an exasperated sigh. "You know. Those authors. The ones who say characters like us are trite and clichéd." Cahil wracked his brain for a moment, until he remembered what 'trite' meant. Then he took another bite of his sandwich, tossed his blond braid back over his shoulder, and adjusted the quiver that hung from the belt that rode low across his slender hips. "Oh those. The ones who disapprove of a bow wielding elf." "That's them." The pixie peered into the gathering gloom. The old forest took on an eerie quality late in the evening and Cahil couldn't suppress a snicker at the tiny creature's nervous actions. In fact, the snicker turned into a snort and a piece of eggplant came out his nose. The forest wouldn't hurt a natural creature like the pixie, but with luck the authors would be in serious danger. "Come on." Cahil motioned for the pixie to follow him. "I'm heading for the council. You might find it interesting." "What's that?" the pixie did a running skip to keep up with the elf's longer stride. Cahil tossed the last of the sandwich into his mouth. "It's where a bunch of us all get together at the same place and time." The pixie digested that, then qualified his question, "I meant what would I find interesting about this council?" "A lot of us forest creatures are gathering to discuss how to get rid of those naysayers." "But won't the other authors get angry?" 'No duh,' thought Cahil, but aloud he simply asked, "What's your name?" "I don't have one," the pixie said sadly. "Surely your author gave you a name?" "No. I played a major role in her short story but I was always just the pixie riding the unicorn. Silly git. I can't believe she didn't name me. Her protagonist couldn't have saved the world from the evil mage without me." "Well, you need a name because I'm not going to call you 'the pixie' throughout this meeting. How about Bob?" "BOB?" the pixie asked. "I like that. It has a nice ring to it."
(Join
us in the next issue of the Fractured Publisher to learn the fate of Shar-rhea-a,
Gritchy, Talwyn, Cahil and BOB.
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