I had always prided myself on being able to talk my way out of punishment, I had done it plenty of times back in school. Hell, my friends always deferred to me to do the talking once we inevitably were caught red-handed in the act of carrying out some stupid prank.
But this wasn’t charming my way out of a 2-day suspension.
The being stared directly into my eyes, smoke wafting lazily above its helmet. It didn’t blink, nor shift its position in the slightest.
At this point, I had been staring into this things eyes for what was probably a few seconds, but it may as well have been hours.
Despite the abnormal amount of silence on my part, the guard remained stoic, still staring, waiting patiently for my reply.
I cleared my throat in a pathetic attempt to give myself just a little more time to think. What was I going to say? Telling the truth might be ok, except that the truth is that I trespassed on government property out of curiosity. That would be admitting that I am, in fact, a criminal with a horrible excuse for breaking the law. I don’t think that would go over very well.
The guard nodded his head to the side, most likely beckoning me to speak.
Shit, gotta come up with something quick or he’ll probably just get bored and chop my head off.
Come on, think dammit!
I guess I could go with something vague? Playing stupid works, usually.
“Uhh, I don’t know, I was just...uhh...going for a walk and there was a flash of light and then I appeared here.” My heart began to beat faster, and sweat dripped down my forehead, I could feel my adrenaline pumping, not that there was anything I could do, being paralyzed and all.
The sentinel regarded me for a moment, silently. A slight shift of his head was the only way I could tell he had even acknowledged my words at all.
I slowed my breathing, forcing down a natural urge to panic. I thought about other things I could have said, and about the absolutely stupid statement that I had just said. Like anyone with even two brain cells to knock together would ever just let a trespasser go after they had something that suspicious.
I had a feeling that this guard had more than a couple of brain cells to his name.
Great, I had lived this long and the last thing out of my mouth was a stuttered, stupid, ‘uhh.’ I gotta say something else, something not so stupid.
The universe has got to know that I’m not quite as dumb as that.
Meanwhile, the sentry had narrowed his eyes at me, probably condemning me, not because I was a threat, but because I was simply too stupid to live.
I had to say something, anything to convince him to let me live. If I could just convince him that I’m somehow useful to, whatever it was that this castle was used for, maybe then I wouldn’t be permanently expelled from existence.
Well here goes- “Listen, I’ve got no way of knowing what it is this place is or what you do,” his eyes seems to widen a bit, anticipating what I had to say, “but I can offer up myself for you, to help you in any capacity I can…” my breath hitched, my voice was getting shaky and a bit high pitched. So this is what begging for your life feels like.
After taking a moment to control my breathing, I continued, “Back where I come from, I was a journalist, a writer-” the sentinel seemed a bit suprised by this, if the subtle opening of his luminescent eyes and his left foot shifting ever so slightly forward were any indication. I couldn’t be sure, he wasn’t human after all. Still, I took it as a sign to keep going.
“Besides writing I...I could do physical labor, though I don’t know how much of that you would need, or I could…”
I choked, I couldn’t reign in my desperation any longer.
“I just don’t want to die here alright! Please, at least send me back, I promise I’ll never come here ever again! Just, please don’t kill me!”
I noticed my eyes glossing over with barely restrained tears.
The guard took a step forward.
“It is not within my power to send you back from whence you came.”
Shit, then the the only other option was…
“However, I will refrain smiting you for the time being.” I choked again. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
“I have judged that you are not a creature from the outer dark, so I have no quarrel with you, however, it would would be in your best interest to refrain from giving me a reason to destroy you.”
Oh, don’t worry about that, I am definitely not going to piss you off.
“I understand, yes, of course.”
“You mentioned your aptitude for literature.” The way the guard stated this, so matter-of-factly, caught me a little off guard.
“Ye-yes, I am a writer yes.”
Out of everything, this is what he wants to know?
The sentinel stopped for a few seconds, he raised a hand up to where his chin should be, though he lacked any discernible features in his face.
What was he thinking? How could my being a writer be useful to him? He doesn’t seem like the type who reads a ton of books.
After a while, the guard walked over to me and raised his arm to my shoulder. He reached out a touched my shoulder extremely lightly, barely ghosting the surface of my shirt.
Immediately my paralysis was lifted, and I stumbled forward a bit before righting myself.
I looked up at the guard, who stood silently in front of me.
“So, you’re gonna let me stay?”
"Yes, we'll let you stay."
I breathed a sigh of relief, I had wormed my way out of a particularly sticky situation.
Trespassing was a serious offense, especially when you trespass into a different plane of existence, one I definitely did not have clearance for.
A heavy burden had been lifted from my shoulders.
“And I’ll work for you?”
"We do have a task for you, effective immediately."
Because of earlier fear, I hadn't noticed the strange quality the sentinels voice held. It was as if there were two beings speaking at once,two souls, speaking through one man.
"A-and, what is that." I asked, the burden had redoubled, now pressing down on my shoulders. It was without a doubt the heaviest weight I had ever carried.
"Your mind possesses the qualities which we ourselves-" he stops, and points his index finger at his own chest, "have lost over the eons. The ability to create, to imagine."
Evidently the sentinel sensed my confusion, and motioned me toward a brilliantly bright door, that shone of gold.
The sentinel opened the door, and I was immediately greeted with the sights and sounds of what could only be described as creation.
Directly in front of me, a small girl, who couldn't have been more than 14, was playing the violin, a beautiful song emanating from its strings.
Behind her, a veritable orchestra sat, each in separate stages of crafting their own luminous melodies.
On the other side of the room, paint lay strewn about the floor, and in beautiful form on many canvases. Others were working with utensils of all kinds, from pencils to brushes, even computers.
By this point, many of these artists and musicians had stopped what they were doing, and were now peering at me curiously. Strangely, as the sentinel led me through the crowd of onlookers, I didn't feel awkward, or even ashamed. I felt, accepted-- like all of those stares and gazes were silently rooting for me, telling me "Welcome to the team." As silly as that may sound.
The sentinel led me up a flight of stairs, where the sounds of pencils on paper, and furious typing could be heard. I assumed this was the authors section.
The sentinel stopped, and motioned toward a desk, which already had a girl, young, about my age, seated on the other end.
The sentinel looked at me. "Sorry about the shared workplace, but we're running out of space, as well as time. Your job is simple, create. You have informed that you are a writer, but if you wish to create in another field, you are welcome to do so. Create, and you will always have a place here."
With that, the sentinel turned and left, his body seemed to fade away as he walked down the hallway we had just came from.
I sat down, evidently looking a bit confused at the typewriter in front of me.
The girl looked up from her work. "Since you'll be working here for a…“ she paused, “Long time, I suppose I'll let you in on how we get by here. All ya gotta do is like the Spirit said, create. For me, it's writing, so being able to do it here, with others who understand my passion, is simply amazing. I'm guessing the same goes for you?"
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Great! And the neat thing about having a desk buddy is now I won't even have to get up to have someone edit my work or just to talk to."
I smiled at her. She was pleasant, very nice. Maybe this wasn't such a bad deal after all.
I sat down and wow, this chair was extremely comfortable, more so than any other chair I had ever sat in. I got this feeling that I recognized to be the feeling I got whenever I started a new job or started attending a new school back on earth, it was a feeling of excitement and nervousness all at once.
"New guy?"
I looked up.
"One more thing; everything that we create, everything we imagine and then write, or paint or perform, it becomes something real."
Real? What the hell do you mean real?q
"I'm not sure I understand?"
"This place, the reason we're here, is to save the Spirit’s own race; to save his people. The more we create, the more possible realities they have to inhabit, which means more safe havens, and more places to hide from those that may wish to harm them."
"Wow." I could scarcely comprehend what I had just heard.
"It's a good deal really, in exchange they give us safety, all the information we can ever want, and a chance to collaborate with literally millions of our peers, and just wait till you try the food!"
"Hmm," I said. "Thank you. This is a lot for me, and it's nice to have someone to help you in the beginning."
She smiled and looked to her side.
"Ah, well, no use in making enemies with your new deskbuddy."
I chuckled a bit, then turned and looked at the typewriter in front of me. I sat back and began to imagine, because not only did an entire race of beings depend on me, but also my own ass was on the line.
But, all things considered, working here didn't seem like that bad of a deal.
ns3.17.164.48da2
