{"sf1_id":1714337,"sf2_id":"dePYlYma","title":"Ragnarok - IV","author":"Rob MacWolf","words":1186,"posted_at":"2021-05-04T16:26:00.000Z","tags":["Epic","Iambic pentameter","Poetry","blank verse"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1714337-ragnarok-iv","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/dePYlYma","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/6b/06/6b068a7d-4b80-40a6-8cb5-ac708c62fe1b","description":"#5 of Ragnarok\n\nSo far, Shane awoke lost in a forest, where he met, fought, and befriended Varr, a strange warrior. They retreated to a small fortification for the night. Varr told Shane that there were dangerous creatures in the night, and began to tell the tale of where they were and what was going on. Apparently they are dead, and their souls have brought to this world by someone known only as the Old Man, to fight some kind of battle.\nNow that I've gotten far enough in to need annotations, I have something to put in this text field!","content":"The day was long departed, and the night\n\nWas coming to adulthood. Outside slept\n\nThe night breeze, snoring soft among the grass.\n\nInside, the boxer felt the darkness close\n\nAs if it were a change in temperature\n\nHe had not noticed. \"Hold on,\" he spoke up,\n\n\"This Old Man, did he have a proper name?\n\nWas he called only Old Man, and no more?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" said the warrior, \"we heard but\n\n'Old Man' from him, and if we wanted more\n\nThere was not time nor breath to ask it him.\n\nWe thought this not unusual; indeed,\n\nThe little that we knew for sure was that\n\nWe little knew. The only clue was thus:\n\nHe often would roam muttering throughout\n\nWhatever halls were empty, seeming blind\n\nAnd speaking not to any who were near.\n\nOne evening, weary from the training drills,\n\nI came into the dim shade of the hall\n\nSeeking the coolness, when I overheard\n\nThe Old Man saying to an empty room:\n\n'They told the truth. There is no hope at all.'\n\nBut what he meant by that I cannot guess.\"\n\n\"Cannot you?\" said the boxer, \"your tale rings\n\nLike something I remember from the years\n\nWhen, as a boy, I listened to old songs\n\nWhose ending I cannot entire recall\n\nFrom those who did not credit them.\" \"In truth,\"\n\nVarr answered, \"Some did hold he spoke the truth:\n\nThat we were dead, and held all these fair lands\n\nThe country of the gods. I held not so.\n\nMy people once told tales of Valhalla;\n\nOf endless feast with hero gods of old\n\nAll in a hall of luxury. But here\n\nIs peril dark, just as the Old Man said.\n\nHere there are enemies. Here there is war.\n\nWhy else would he have need of warriors?\n\nThe country of the gods should have no war.\n\nThe country of the gods should be without\n\nNight terrors in the day. What place is there,\n\nIn such a pristine and platonic world,\n\nFor those like me, who nothing know but war?\n\nWould that I were made other than I am,\n\nThen truly might this heaven be, and I\n\nMight yet acquire an appetite for peace.\n\nWe may not be among the living, Shane,\n\nBut we are not in heaven. I have seen\n\nThings here more fit for hell.\" The silence filled\n\nThe darkness with unasked conjectures of\n\nInsectoid, technological, mythic,\n\nColossal, fear infused, unstoppable,\n\nUndead, undying foes. The air soon weighed\n\nFar more than mountains. \"Do you mean the foes\n\nOf whom the Old Man spoke? What horrors dire\n\nAre they?\" Shane said, to wash the silence off.\n\n\"Whatsoever they are, they cannot be\n\nAs horrible as I imagine from\n\nThe hints you drop. In any case, they soon\n\nWill find they fear me more than I fear them.\"\n\n\"You would not feel so eager,\" answered Varr,\n\n\"If you had seen them. Words cannot convey\n\nThe way their being warps and wastes the world\n\nWherever they set foot. No matter. You\n\nShall doubtless see enough of them too soon.\n\nWhen first I saw them-\" but he stopped, and held\n\nOne hand for silence up. Shane heard no sound.\n\nThe wind outside had gone as still as death.\n\nFor half a moment Varr stood listening\n\nWhile Shane blinked stupidly, in puzzlement,\n\nAnd all the while, the fireflies grew dim.\n\nThe last Shane saw before their light went out\n\nWere horrors realized upon Varr's face.\n\nHe made to ask, but felt the warrior's hand\n\nClamped tight across his mouth. The embers now\n\nWere all the light they had, not near enough\n\nTo see eachother, or to move, or arm.\n\nIn silence sat they, waiting for Shane knew\n\nNot what, but steeped in tension, like the sweat\n\nOf dynamite, that only needs a touch\n\nTo blossom into fire and sudden death.\n\nThen came a subtle sound, not softened with\n\nGreat distance, but so softened that it might\n\nHave come from infinitely. If he had\n\nTo name it, Shane would say it was the sound\n\nOf bacon. Of raw flesh touching some iron\n\nAnd flameless heat, and withering in pain\n\nToo dire intense to scream more than a sigh.\n\nIt echoed, as if trapped within a cask\n\nAll hollow, like the belly of a viol\n\nOr like the empty buzz within a shell\n\nHeld up against the ear. Laid under that\n\nWere shuffling footsteps, rustling of the grass,\n\nThe moan of metal rusted all but through,\n\nAnd with the sound there came a smell, as if\n\nA heap of rancid trash were set ablaze,\n\nBurned down to dust, then smothered with the tide,\n\nLeaving grey sodden ash and brackish cloud.\n\nVarr had no need Shane's silence to compel.\n\nThe sound and smell and that which was their source\n\nCame almost to the door, and there they stopped.\n\nThe smell wormed through the darkness, and the fire\n\nShot indigo and purple tongues of flame\n\nFrom embers that seemed smothered by the stench.\n\nHow long they crouched, like rabbits in a hedge\n\nWho watch a sleeping snake and dare not move,\n\nShane could not say, but all at once the air\n\nWas breathable. The sound of sizzling steps\n\nWas fading, muffled, then completely gone.\n\nThe fireflies shone again, and Varr released\n\nThe boxer, saying, \"Now you know our foe.\n\nWhere they stand, grasses brown and shrivel up.\n\nWhere they pass, infant animals go blind.\n\nI do not know their name, if name they have.\n\nWe called them Soot. Come morning, you'll see why.\n\nThey grow far deadlier by night.\" Shane spoke,\n\n\"I fear no men of soot, by day or night.\n\nI will not cower at their coming, nor\n\nWill I change course to skirt their ashy scent.\n\nWhat came of all the Old Man's noble words?\n\nWherefore are these foul creatures suffered still?\n\nHave you not still your sword, Varr Last-to-flee?\n\nCan I not testify its edge yet bites?\n\nHave you not still the heart, brother in blood,\n\nThat quickened at the sight of battle-dawn?\n\nWhen next these flies go dim, my gloves and I\n\nWill stand outside this door, and wait, and win!\"\n\nVarr smiled, but shook his head, and said, \"Brave words,\n\nShane, Champion Indeed, not brave too much\n\nBut wise too little. Know you what you say?\n\nI do not count a man of less renown\n\nBecause he leaps not into raging seas,\n\nNor does it wound the name, that one refrains\n\nFrom laying bare his breast to thunderstrike.\n\nFret not upon your honor. When you hear\n\nHow my tale ended is, you will not think\n\nThat I do deem you coward, or esteem\n\nYour manhood little worth. To go at night\n\nAgainst the Soot is stupid and not brave.\n\nWhen once the day has dazzled and confused\n\nOur fetid friend, we will acquit our might.\n\nHe will not be too difficult to track.\n\nBut now attend again, and you shall hear,\n\nHow these, like you, are more than they appear.\"\n\nIn mingled light of hearth and firefly\n\nAgain the boxer rapt in listening sat,\n\nAgain the warrior spoke of glory gone.\n\nOutside, the lightless night cascaded on.\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Ragnarok","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1713909-ragnarok-iii.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1714717-ragnarok-v.json"}}