A nymph. A nymph on a rock, playing a Game Boy. Frowning as he missed the level's final jump, over and over again. His coat fluttered as the wind sent a shiver down the nymph's spine. He frowned again, another life lost as he tapped the silver plastic buttons on the handheld. Entranced in his game he didn't even notice the perplexed new traveller in the watery, sweet glade.

The traveller squeaked, squinting his eyes in the glade's pure green light. The soft, fertile soil under his Chuck Taylor's. His grey hoodie fell loosely off his thin shoulders. His baggy jeans just barely gave him room to walk or run. Shuffling his feet, the traveller took the time to take stock of where he was, since the nymph wasn't the most cordial host.

The glade was like any other glade. Tall trees provided a canopy filtering the sunlight, which came down in photo-realistic beams. On the rock in the centre sat the Game Boy-playing nymph. Soft grass, daisies, violets, all perfectly tended to by somebody with a greener thumb than the traveller had ever seen. A tiny, perfectly clear stream trickled down nearby hills passing through on its way to nowhere.

The traveller thrust his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, whistling the theme to Legend of Zelda. It was only then that the nymph took notice of him.

Pausing the game, the ethereal being put the Game Boy in his coat pocket. With a groan, he stood up on his pale white feet which were as clean as the glade. Creeping closer, the nymph began to examine the boy in front of him. The stranger in a strange land. The sprite lifted the travellers arm, sniffed and grimaced. He stood back as if he were scrutinizing a work of art.

The nymph shrugged.'So you're the one they sent for?'

'Ummm', was the only response the boy could manage. 'Fraid I don't understand.'

'That makes two of us,' the faerie replied. He waved his hand as he turned back toward his rock. 'Well he'll explain it to you.'

The boy raised a skeptical eyebrow, 'Who will explain it to me?'

The sprite groaned, 'Ugh, well I guess there's no way around it.' With a click of his heels, the nymph turned on a dime facing the traveller again. 'I really don't think you're cut for what he's gonna ask of you but I still have to do my job.' Extending his pale, three fingered hand toward the boy he introduced himself. 'Puck's the name, greetings are my game.' Under his breath he added, 'Was my game, until things went downhill.'

Confusion and discomfort played off the boy's face. In keeping with decorum, however, he extended his hand, slowly shaking Puck's. 'I'm Johnny, Johnny Grey.' He wasn't sure of his own name though. How could he when a faerie was standing beside him in a wool coat.

'Good,' the nymph smiled. His job was almost done. 'I wasn't sure it was you. I was expecting somebody a little...' he searched for the right word, not wanting to offend the boy, 'taller!'

'You were...' Johnny fumbled around for the correct wording as well. Never once had he been expected to do anything or be anywhere. Now there was this nymph, who played a Game Boy, expecting him to be taller. He continued, 'You were anticipating me?' Somehow he felt a bit late.

Puck grinned. Well at least Grey wasn't dense. 'Yes, yes, but like I said he'll explain that when we get there.' He batted the statement (which sounded more like a question) away with the flick of his wrist. He glanced down to the boy's shoes. 'Are your shoes tied?'

Johnny looked down as well. Another strange question. He merely shrugged.

'We have a long journey ahead of us.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside the glade the land was rocky. Hard and dark. The trees would bend ominously, predatorily down as they travelled. The air was stale. Everything seemed cold. The land was no longer as fertile as it had been. As they passed out of the forests into the countryside, Johnny noticed that the land was dead. Farmers with famished oxen ploughed dirt. Everything seemed to be etched with the signs of war. A mix of bullet holes and blades made their marks on the farm houses. Fires blazed, babies cried into the night, and the clouds rolled on.

As Puck stopped for a rest on a nearby ruin, taking out his Game Boy to escape the misery in front of him, Johnny rubbed his hands attempting to stave off the bitter Siberian air.

'What happened here?' he asked his guide.

The faerie poked his head up from his handheld. 'Oh,' he hissed in disdain, 'this.'

'Yes, This,' Johnny moaned. For once in his short life, he'd like to decently understand what was going on. 'What happened here?'

'Enchantments and gunpowder don't mix,' was the nymph's only response.

He didn't know how long it took them to reach the city, but he knew it had been a long time. Standing at the gate of the city, Johnny noticed the remnants of spires which would have breached the clouds. He noticed overturned carriages. Trash littered the cobblestone streets as fires blazed in the distance. Peasants in rags fumbled through the ruins, searching for the vestiges of their collective pasts.

A guard wearing a tricorner hat and a uniform resembling that of Napoleon's army checked their pass. The man looked as if he hadn't eaten for days and was about as happy with his job as Puck was with his. Grumbling he let the unlikely pair pass through the crumbling gate.

As they passed through the streets, all Johnny saw was desperation etched on the faces of the city's denizens. He did his best not to make eye contact, but it was almost too hard. Their eyes seemed to scream for another better life, a life without having to raid the trash. A life without war. A life which was promised but never delivered.

After a time they reached a solitary, old bank. The nation's symbol, a dragon, barely showed above the two great wooden doors.

Puck humbly tapped on the gigantic door knockers. Every slam echoed over the vast ruins and inside Johnny. He shivered, not even his hoodie seemed to protect him from this ever-present cold. He could feel the pressure, the importance of the great bank, looming over him. Its columns cracked with battles.

Returning from the doors, Puck grumbled, 'This is where he lives.'

It was then that fear struck Johnny.

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SupremeEarthworm

19.08.04 Front Page

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