huntsmith2002's blog: "Fantasy Fiction: Lemmings"

Chapter 2 Entry 1 For the first few weeks after leaving lemming cove, I wandered more or less aimlessly. It was during this time that I reflected on the significance of my so called escape. My kind has always took what they wanted, with little or no care of consequence. I guess arrogance comes with total immortality and absolute power. Mother, GAIA, always gave me whatever I... whatever we wanted. That... That was to be our downfall. When one can do almost anything, you begin to focus on the almost. There were nine voices in our choir. Nine different visions of what reality should be. This was not our most shining moment, for our whims were still being created. We, my kin and I, are responsible for JEALOUSY, GREED, ENVY, HATE, RAGE, and Ultimately DEATH. GAIA constructed all of these, even the ones that enslaved their masters. From these new additions to our reality, it was only natural that we turn to our darker halves. Nine Edens warred with each other. Nine paradises were lost. Our grandsire was most pleased. Ultimately, one of us wished the other to simply cease to exist. Was that me? I don't know if I was the victim or the executioner that day. What I do know, is that our mother, GAIA, screamed and banished us from her sight. I am still an immortal, but I am dead to her. The lemmings were my prison, and even now they follow... they hunt... to torment me. I asked for help from a lemming, and now I must face the consequences of that help. At least, for the moment, I am free, but where am I? This is not my vision of reality, nor does it seem like one of my kin's. Have they escaped and changed it? Have the wars begun anew? Does GAIA now listen? I guess time will tell. Entry 2 My journey accross this strange "new" world brought me upon an ancient ruin. The pile of disorderd stones could once have been anything, from a mill, to a shrine, to a pile of rocks, to the remains of a lemming parade march. The image of a marching collumn of lemming finest enters my mind. They are here for "Dead Fred Day". The collumn boldly marches on, as the cheering crowds try to recreate the stoning. I'm sure some actual rocks are involved, but more than likely the crowd uses imitation rocks. Things like bushy trailed squirrels, slow moving toads, and small cattle. I imagine it is very hard to stone a lemming with a wide eyed cow named Betsy. Of course, stoning the crowd with yourself is allowed, so long as Betsy's hoof isn't a Butch's hoof. I mean you do have to have some standards. Ok, I admit it, I miss seeing the lemmings everyday. For a very long time the little terrors were ever there. Now, I can only wonder if they have even noticed my absence. I suspect that they aren't far, but have yet to see them. We'll see what lies over the next hill. Entry 3 Some things never change. As I crested the edge of the hill, I surveyed a macabre scene below. Two armies were locked in battle. More appropriately, two armies were frozen in battle. I walked amongst the frozen statues who were clearly involved in a life and death struggle. Whether this was for king and country, some higher calling, or simply for GREED, I could not tell. What I could tell, was that I was not to interfere. That I was incapable of interfering. Again, the smile of the toothless lemming sprung to my thoughts. That mischievious knowing smirk burned at the edges of my mind. Yet, although this was clearly GAIA's work, this punishment came after our... banishment. Again I wondered if one or more of my brethrin had found their way back into GAIA's good graces. Somehow, I doubted this. There were other factors at work here. Entry 4 During the first foolish war, GAIA gave our thoughts substance. All of our thoughts... With the creation of WAR, HATE, DEATH, sprung new possibilities, and, in time, new entities. These beings were enpowered, just as we were, but in very particular ways. They were our swords, our tools, and we used them against each other. One can only wonder what such tools would do, when their masters were no longer able to direct them. We had made them self sufficient. In time, I am sure that some of them had become self aware. The Elder Gods of legend. GAIA's grandchildren. Entry 5 As I stood amongst the forest of frozen warriors, my mind flashed to an earlier scene. It was the time that I had observed a group of lemmings fighting over dining etiquette. There were several lemmings around a cracked table with but three legs. The lemmings were arguing over: three cups, four spoons, one good plate, one cracked plate, a butter knife with no edge, twelve forks with bent ends, and a tea pot with no top. All of this was utterly pointless of course, because lemmings don't eat, much less have tea parties, but they were convinced that they wouldn't get served unless the table was properly set. As a result, each lemming was trying to properly set the table, starting with their seat first. A worthless and impossible exercise given the utensiles available, but try and explain that to a fanatic lemming zealot intent on giving everyone a spoon... Or try to explain why to an elder god... I think I understand now. Once I was...the dragons were... banished, their tools, the elder gods, believed that the edens sustained them. Maintaining them was their link to us and thus to their existence. They were tools of destruction, but they feared their own. This is totally flawed of course, but these creatures weren't much smarter than lemmings, which probably explains why it took so long for some of them to gain sentience. In anycase, the lemmings around the table ended up breaking what was left of my good china, and if I remember correctly, the whole table shuffle exercise continued until another group of lemming scholars came over, gave them bottomless buckets, told them to wash up, and pushed them... and my dishes... into nearby bottomless wells. Ahhhh. Lemming logic at its finest. I think I actually smiled that day, but it did cost me my one good plate. Entry 6 While the lemmings were building the great wall from Mt. Stupidity, our so called tools were trying to appease my grandsire. They used their existence to rebuild the abandoned worlds around them. They believed that power was linked to structure in all its forms. Their Power... Their very Existence... required it. They required it... However, they had other underlying needs as well. They were the weapons of the first war. They had been created to raise one concept, one dragon, above all else. They still had that purpose. I'm speculating here, but I suspect that each of the Edens were locked away from the others by GAIA. All of them but one, the fallen one. He was the cause of our banishment, and the nexus through which we were all joined. It was there that our tools still warred. It was there that they sought to spread the structure of their creator, but they couldn't do it directly. They couldn't leave their eden, so they created their own tools, avatars, to influence, to complete their task. Avatars whose existence relied on structure. That is what they believed. This is that place. That eden shaped by the ravages of nine different pantheons of lemming like intellect. Ironically, in death, our brother had brought our thoughts together to forge a common world. A world, far from any eden, brutal, savage, like our nature, and yet, still close to GAIA's heart. That is the ultimate prize no doubt, to regain contact with our mother, to gain her forgiveness. Its why I am here. Entry 7 The revelations of my past, present, and perhaps future were strong in this place, and I remained in the garden of warriors until a distinct layer of dust had covered them all. Of course, it may have been longer, for several young saplings had begun their rise admist the feet of the combatants. Time was never my strong suit. I can only wonder if, when I left, and the battle resumed, they would notice the change in their surroundings, or if the heat of battle would block it from their awareness. I imagine any homecoming will be quite a surprise... Home... The mere thought of it reminds me of a concept that has little meaning to one such as I. I journey onward, hoping to find some hint of what I must do to seek redemption. Entry 8 I had almost forgotten what another voice sounds like. For too long, I had only heard my own. This new, welcome, mostly welcome, sound came to me from somewhere over the horizon. There were no words that I could distinguish, but words never-the-less. They called to me, as surely as a camp fire calls to the moths. For several days, I walked in the direction of that elusive sound wondering if the source would doom me or end my lonely quest. It came as somewhat of a surprise when I discovered that the source was not a person, but a thing. In the center of a bustling village, now frozen by my presence, a stone tower softly sang with a voice that should not exist. It was the echo of something now gone. Why? Who? How? The stillness of the village haunted me, as I contemplated living up to the stereotype of dragonhood. It was then, that I noticed the young man watching me. It was then that he asked what was wrong?

I don't know who I am. I awoke surrounded by creatures with no will of their own. They follow my wishes, but speak no words. Its maddening. Already once I have sent a few to their doom for no good reason. Does that make me a monster or just a tyrant? Are they alive? Am I? Perhaps this is payment for an earlier life of death and destruction. I would leave, but I feel that the answers I seek can be found nowhere else. Maybe, I simply can't. It matters not for I haven't tried. These lemmings who worship me seem destined to fall prey to every little thing. Last... how long ago was that? How long have I been here? Anyway, the lemmings who live south of the river fell prey to a band of maddened fools. I watched it all from here. They were busy trying to put water in a bottomless bucket when a group of bell ringers decided to use their skulls as bells. I must say that they somehow did achieve a melody, In spite of the screams... This lasted until a second group arrived to eat the first. They swooped down in these bat costumes shrieking something about bats and long toothed rabbits and IRS agents. I guess they thought the bellringers were playing dinner gongs. Of course, my lemmings were the main course. I suppose I should feel sympathy for them or terror that I am next, but if they come for me, I will feel relief. It will finally be over. ENTRY 2 I am still here. I have always been here. GAIA has seen to that. GAIA ??? That name is important. Mother... Sister... Tormentor... There is more to it, but as usual the rush of images and memories seem to bear little... Order and considerable... Chaos. Order... Chaos... They are just words and yet... Earlier I opened my eyes and saw one of the two fanged beasts standing over me. He had a chipped tooth, which must cause him no end of grief in unliving social circles. His right hand had a sack that sported the feet of several lemmings from its tied opening. I had hoped that he had come for me, but this leach upon the living just stood there, as still as one might expect the unliving to be. I tried to move him, tried to talk to him, tried everything, for what seemed an endless task. Finally, I simply used him to hang my cloak and hat. Items which serve little purpose here. Maybe tomorrow he will be hungry. Entry 3 Coat racks don't generally drool. Obviously mine hasn't decided to walk out on me. Maybe today he'll come around. The lemmings were very busy today. They've taken it upon themselves to not simply stand around and be bagged like sack lunches. Earlier, I saw them practicing throwing sticks and rocks. Of course, they hit themselves more often than anything else, but apparently coordination isn't their forte. During their 'training', one of the smaller lemmings hit a rather large snake that I have seen basking on the rocks by the river. For some reason, the first rock didn't phase him, but of course the lemmings had to outdo each other, and by the fifth rock the snake was apparently a bit annoyed.... I watched, as one by one, the rock throwing lemmings were systematically swallowed by 'Fred'. Unfortunately, Fred bit into one too many, and I think choked to death. This, of course, was seen as a major victory for the remaining lemmings who have declared a holiday. Hmmm.... My hat rack is gone. It seems that the sun and him did not agree. Entry 4 Apparently the lemmings have decided not to throw rocks, but to place them carefully in piles. Already they have buried: Fred, a rather large tree, a slow moving lizard, and two of their work crews that took a nap in a bad spot. I am at a loss as to where they are finding all of these rocks. Of course I am at a lost how these creatures survived long enough to add to the fossil record. Ah..... the things that go through a d...dr..dra... mind. What was it I was starting to say? That is important some how. Part of the puzzle of my existence. Part of the reason why I am here. The lemmings have been eyeing several birds for some time now. They seem annoyed that they can't pile rocks on them. Of course, this had nothing to do with the white present that one of them deposited on the head of a lemming foreman. I personally think that the bird was annoyed at having their nesting tree buried, but who am I to judge. Anyway, the lemming work force is building a mighty rock pile... Of course it is on top of the foreman. I'm not sure if it was to cover the smell, or if they were simply directed to build there. Lemmings are soooooo stupid. Entry 5 I am a dragon. It suddenly came to me. Yet, I look like a human and have no craving to hoarde treasure, belch flame, or do anything remotely dragonish. Yet, I am a dragon. One of Gaia's own. Gaia... There is that name again. Why can't I remember why that is important to me. Why can't I hear her voice? Why should I be able to? My memories are so hazy, and my existance, long as it has been, has ever been here. In this place.... with... with them.... Mount Stupidity blocks my view of the river now. It seems that the lemmings finally gave up on it, lost interest, or ran out of rocks. Considering the number in their head, I suspect that they simply couldn't hear their foreman's instructions anymore.... The lemmings were sort of sluggish for awhile this morning. I guess they missed breakfast. Of course, since they yanked out all of their crops looking for rocks, they may be hungry for awhile. I can only hope that I am not on the menu. Did I say that? It was only a few days ago that I was hoping my hat rack would mistake me for wheaties. Funny how ones perspective can change. Entry 6 The lemmings have decided that yanking crops from the fields was a bad idea. Now, they are attempting to replant them. Somehow I don't think dropping rocks on weeds struggling to survive will produce a bountiful harvest. It was sort of amazing to watch them fail at dropping rocks though. I never knew that bombing stationary weeds was so hard. The most ironic part of all this is that I have never seen a lemming eat. They are constructs. gollems. They don't eat. Again the knowledge shifts slowly into my awareness, and again it brings more questions than answers. Who made these creatures? Did I make them? Why were they made and what is their function? Their stupidity is baffling, but they seem aware, creative, deliberate, sentient...... The lemmings are staring at me. All of them. That disturbs me greatly. Entry 7 For some time I have been constantly watched by the lemming horde. This strange eerie change in their behavior sends shivers down my spine. There is intelligence there. There is hatred as well... I have been wrestling with the knowledge that has been slowly pooling in my thoughts. I am a dragon. A child of Gaia. My age is unknown. The reasons for my imprisonment are as well. I have eight brothers and sisters. had eight brothers and sisters... They are dead now. No.... We are dead to Gaia. We created death. Created and killed.... Yes... One of our own. Was it me or was I the killer? The lemmings have torn down Mt Stupidity and are building a very sturdy wall. They have done this before, or they are more intelligent than I gave them credit for. I should try and escape. Try like... before.... How long ago was that? The lemmings put up a wall in little under a day. Two walk along it at all times. Two armed with blades... Somehow I liked them better when they were dropping rocks on plants. Entry 8 I have decided to stay. At least for now, and the lemmings seem to know and be content with my decision. The wall is still there though, as is the fog in my mind. I climbed to the top of this tower, to see what lay beyond the wall and river. Apparently there is nothing. I don't mean nothing like wilderness. I mean literally nothing. The river doesn't even exist. It is as if reality begins and ends with the wall. That is not possible. The lemmings were attacked. I got a coat rack. Somehow, from yestar... before... till now the world was sealed off and taken from me. Like Gaia was. Like my mother. One of the lemmings just smiled wickedly. I hope the other lemmings decide to use him as fertilizer for their bogus crops. Well, so much for leaving. There is no where to go. No hope of escape. Not yet anyway.... Entry 9 Apparently lemmings get thirsty. I watched them dig several holes. At first, they would dig a hole and then throw a bottomless bucket in. Then, they would wait and look puzzled. Finally, one would push another in the hole. If they didn't come up right away, then the others would push some one in. I wonder how many lemmings it takes to fill a dry well. They are getting smarter though. Now, they are waiting for other lemmings to wander by and then they give them a bucket and throw them in. I swear if these morons make it through the day, every last one of them will have a fear of buckets. How could I ever believe these things are sentient. Entry 10 Apparently, one of the lemmings didnt like his bud being killed for the common good. It seems that after his bud was sacrificed, he sort of set the other one on fire. Of course the other lemmings tried to throw water on it. Water from a bottomless bucket that was taken from a dry well. Wait... Where did the lemming get the fire from. Did he conjure it? Can they do that? When did that happen? Flashes of insight flow through me as I feel the memory of another war just beyond my grasp. Brothers and sisters in battle. Brothers and sisters at war. Conjured weapons. Conjured gods. All to satisfy some primal imaginary need. Entry 11 I don't know which is more disturbing. The thought that a god could be conjured as a weapon, or the fact that a lemming taught me something. There is something else. Something about these gods. These are older. Older than what. Not older than Gaia. Again that name haunts me. She is my mother, and I live because of her. I live for her. But she didn't care. She would listen to them, but not to me. Why wouldn't she listen? She never listened. I have to get out of here. If these wells are truly dry, then I am lost, but if one connects to the river, then maybe.... Entry 12 Bottomless dry wells, as far as the eye can see. Totally worthless except to the first lemming bottomless bucket fire brigade. the lemming hordes have split into factions. There are the well diggers. who apparently dig infinitely deep wells by throwing just enough dirt in the faces of other lemmings to cause them to want to fill the holes. Of course, they try to fill them with bottomless buckets which they steal from the lemming fire fighters. This causes the fire fighter lemmings to become annoyed at the bucket making lemmings, so of course they set their buckets on fire, and then panic when they realize that not only are there no bottomless buckets, but there are no bottomless wells to draw water from, so of course they start digging wells. With luck, they will burn down that abysmal wall, or set me on fire... Entry 13 I have visitors. Not lemmings real visitors. I looked down at that #%#$%# wall, and one day, there was a door there. It just appeared, when I wasn't paying attention. I tried it of course. Locked. surprise... surprise.... But there was light from underneath it and voices... not Gaia, but voices. I tried to convince a lemming firefighter to open the door. He just smiled, and this lemming was... toothless. Now, why lemmings should have teeth is beyond me, but they usually do. It took me by surprise, the second of the day. What really took me by surprise though was he raised his finger and pointed at a campsite where.... a stranger slept. A human I think. Human like anyway, and I didn't feel the intense hatred that I associate with my brothers and sisters. For a moment I considered what that meant. A new fact. I hated my relatives. What a shock. This wasn't one of the Elder gods either. Love... Death... War... They were banished later, after our fall from grace.... Had I created a new one. For a moment, I wondered. Could this be GAIA given form, or one of the cruel jokes of my brethrin. Had they found a way to torment me from their prison. Their prison... Yes, that is right. I laughed and smiled with my toothless doormat. It was time to greet. Maybe time to leave.... Entry 14 Toothless... I get it. The lemming being toothless was a message. Just as he is toothless, so to am I. So are the others... Well, that is small comfort. Apparently the stranger, a mortal no doubt, has more to fear from the lemmings than from me. I laugh at this. Boy is he in trouble. At least they haven't tried to establish a second lemming holiday yet. Choked Snake Victory Day is still one of a kind. Entry 15 I approached the stranger's camp site with unreal expectations. His garb was foreign to anything I had known. His possessions were no different. This man. This creature was as much a stranger to me, as the lemmings were to it. I found myself shaking, as I waited patiently for him to awake. His snores breaking the silence, as well as my thoughts, I made sure that the lemmings didn't decide to see if he would sleep better buried, or burnt, or if he could be stretched, or thrown into a well, or any of a million other things that their creative moronic brains could devise. It was just better, if I stayed here... The toothless lemming waited just outside the flickering campfire light. His eyes watching, as he sipped some beverage from... a mug? When it was empty, the lemming conjured liquid from the air to fill it again. My jaw dropped as the toothless, voiceless, fiend smiled knowingly and turned to walk back into the darkness. I would have followed, probably to throw him down a bottomless well, but the stranger groaned and began to stir. Now, was not the time for... confronting my lemming neighbors. Entry 16 The stranger and I have been attempting to communicate. For a long time, I thought he was mute. Our only meaningful communication was through common hand gestures. Then with time, I noticed the barest of whispers when he spoke. I struggled to understand the meaning within them. In another time and place, I would have just plucked it directly from his mind. That option was now lost to me. Well, time is something I have plenty of..... Entry 17 I'm not sure what matter of being now shares my abode. His garb is unlike anything I have seen. Now... or then... It is made from.... ???... something that feels partially familiar. There is an aura about it, about him for that matter. He isn't human, of this I am somehow sure. He isn't of dragon either. We still are barely communicating. The lemmings seem very entertained at my frustration. Perhaps, he is their creation. The irony, if that were true. Is it possible that the lemmings have somehow created constructs of their own, and if so, what guides this new thing? I have seen the toothless lemming watching my attempts at interaction. The other lemmings are mostly normal, well as normal as lemmings get. I saw a group of them building what appeared to be a bridge. Of course, it was a bridge over a bottomless well that they had dug the previous day, but what do you expect from lemmings. Apparently, I am expecting quite a bit more. Entry 18 A bridge over an infinite divide. I should have noticed that before. The lemmings do not believe that I can bridge the gap between me and this stranger, or perhaps they do not want me to. I have had one small victory. The aura, or more appropriately the smell, of the stranger is the smell of the outside world. No lemming made that, and if he got in, then perhaps, I can get out. The question now is how... I am sure the lemmings will try to stop me, so I must keep these thoughts close. I must also watch what they do. Apparently, it tells me much. Entry 19 I learned something new today. It seems that the stranger is able to summon power through the focus of his will. I miss that. I saw him cleaning his campsite, with the simplest of gestures. How is it that this sub-creature, can make GAIA respond, if only in a minor minute way, and I can not even hear her voice. How is it that she would forsake me for... for that.. and his ilk. Perhaps I am over reacting, all he did was clean his dirty underwear. However, I can't help but hope that it shrank two sizes. Then, he would have to give it to the lemmings... I can see another holiday forming. Entry 20 I am feeling very stupid right now. I was walking down by the wall and stumbled across a lemming manning the gate with his trusty wooden sword and mean looking rock. For grins, I told him to open it. He did..... I could have left at anytime I wanted. I must tell you though that walking across that drawbridge was one of the hardest things I have done since I accepted that GAIA had forsaken me. As I walked across the bridge, over a sleeping lemming, and into the nearby... woods??? I looked back and saw the stranger. He was standing on the otherside of the gate and he smiled and morphed into.... into me. I don't understand that. Something for later. For now, I am free. Free to discover what has changed in the world. Free to find my brothers and sisters and... and what? We still aren't on the best of terms. Ok, they want me dead, but apparently wishing their death is what started our banishment. Apparently, GAIA was not too pleased that we would use her power to destroy one of her own. I think I need some time to sort through my thoughts. West looks good. I'll head west and not look back.