author C.C.Cole's blog

Sunday, September 18, 2016

                                          The Empty Side 

Game of Thrones "Battle of the Bastards"


A bit a fun with the Gastar characters at the Game of Thrones’ Battle of the Bastards

“They have to get the kid out of there, before she does something terrible.”  Zermon shoved a brunette young man to his knees facing a tree with red leaves that appeared to be watching them. 
“Please.  Kill me and spare my brother.”  Jon Snow looked toward his home of Winterfell as the Bolton troops headed toward his army.  “They will know I’m gone.  What will happen then?”
“No they won’t.”  Zermon sat beside him.  “You will ride headlong into that army alone like a fool, to save your brother.  So that’s where we will save him and Sweetheart will do her thing to the Bastard’s army.  Then he’s yours to play with as you like.”

Shevata stood near the back of Winterfell watching the army line up.  “You must be ready, Michaelous.”
A silver haired teenage boy glared at her with sparkling blue eyes.  “Shevata your place is with us, not that demon.” 
“I know my place better than anyone divine like yourself, evil like Zermon, or a good man like Jon.  I belong here, in the empty side.”
A man about the age of Jon led a young boy out on a rope.  As they passed them, Shevata nudged Michaelous.  “Now!”  A silver arrow hit the boy, he stumbled, then Michaelous reeled back in the the arrow with a silver rope.  Shevata watched.  “So he will be happy in the Heavens?”
“Yes, he will. now that I have his soul, he will remember none of this horror.  And so should you, if you stop this ridiculous existence with that monster Zermon and come with me now.”  He gestured toward Zermon. Shevata shook her head.  “Leave us now. Thank you.”  He nodded and disappeared in a wisp of silver mist.

Jon watched.  “What was that?”
“One of the nice guys of the afterlife.”  Zermon yawned.  “Shevata wanted to make sure your brother went to the right place after she found out you were murdered.”
“I didn’t see anything when I died.  Why?”
Zermon shrugged.  In his human form, he looked about eighteen, with shoulder length black hair and blue eyes, dressed in black.  “The red woman can raise life, but doesn’t understand souls go with life.  For whatever reason, your soul remained here.  At least that’s what Shevata told me.”
Shevata stood alone watching the army march away.  “What’s she going to do?”  Jon tried to get up, but Zermon pushed him back down. 
“Shevata is about to open up power of her god.”   She spoke a word.  A boom shook the ground for a moment, then a wind rushed through the army, turning to dust the youngest soldiers, breaking the legs of the largest, most experienced, until it reached the bastard, left untouched.  She turned and joined Zermon and Jon at the tree. 

Jon stood up.  “What kind of god would do that?”
“The kind of god that stole my soul.”  Shevata looked at the dust where men once stood.  “The kind of god that destroys life, hope, and love.  All he leaves is the empty side.” 
Zermon rose to his feet.  “We must be going.  Lord Snow, you have two battles now; our battle and your battle.  Now you can choose, which to go through with.” 
Shevata gave him a coin.  “Drop it to the ground at random if you’re indecisive.  Or place it on the ground with the crown up for your battle before we arrived.”
“And my brother?”  Jon squeezed the coin.
Shevata smiled.  “He will never see the empty side.”

Sunday, December 27, 2015

The Importance of Lies

"The Last Kingdom"  King Alfred

A follow up to the Assling's experience in the Underworld.

Shevata sat at her desk waiting for the King to arrive.  She’d met him before and he, like so many in the afterlife, return to her to seek more wisdom.  How, she thought, can any sort of wisdom be found in Hell?

The demon opened the door in her comfortable office.  She motioned for Alred to sit across from her and the demon to leave.  “King Alfred, I’m beginning to think you like visiting the Underworld, the place for the damned.  This is your second tour here.  As an man of such intelligence and devotion to his God, why come here?”
Alred nodded with respect.  “I thank you for receiving me again.  I found out that Uhtred came here and I wanted to know if he is safe.” 
Shevata smiled and a gentle eye roll.  “No one is safer than they are here.”
Afred frowned.  “So is he here?  Has his soul been thrown away?  Why would he do such a thing?”
“You always said he was the pagan.”
He stood, slamming the chair into the desk and paced around the room.  “You should’ve sent him back.”  He turned to her.  “Send him back!”
Shevata raised an eyebrow.  “Why would I do that?”
“He had a soul, but was misguided, like all of the Danes.  I know that now.  No one deserves the punishment this place provides.”  He had his back to her.  Shevata rose and walked up behind him. 
“You have more conscience than most Kings I’ve met.”  She placed a clear, rainbow-reflecting gem in his palm.  “Hell is a receiving world.  We don’t choose the inhabitants; they choose us.  Go now.  Your legacy as a great King is now resounding through history in your world.  There’s no need for you to concern yourself with Uutred.  He examined the gem.
“You let him go, didn’t you?”
“He chose the flames with his Danish woman.  Now go, before I have you dragged out.  When you return, tell me in advance so I can learn more about your God.”
He smiled.  “I’d like that.”  She nodded as he was escorted away.

Zermon walked in watching him leave.  “What’s that wormy-looking King doing here again?  Wanting a piece of Hell, eh?” 
“I told him Uhred the Assling and Iseult are in our flames.” 
He shook his head.  “What’s with your memory?  That little brunette queen works for me as a succubus, and she is one of the best, I tell you.  No man has yet to resist her.  And you told Assling you didn’t know her.  Then you told the skinny King we burned Assling’s soul.”  He snorted.  You’re a disgusting liar, little one.  Why lie here?  Hell is truth.”

Shevata sat back in her chair kicking Zermon’s elbow off of her desk.  “Yes, Hell is truth, usually a very ugly one when one pays for their life’s crimes by losing their souls to the fires here.  But what’s the use of truth here?  The people that come here face the truth, as Iseult did when she used magic to kill a child to save another.  In her hypocrisy about giving in to fate, she did a great evil.  How can Uhtred know that?  We might as well throw him to our fires if he knew the truth, as it would drive him mad.”
“And the skinny King the great whatever?  Why lie to him?  How do you know he won’t meet Uhtred somewhere in the heavens, if that exists?”

“If they meet, they will know I lied.  They will think I fooled them and never return.  And should they never meet, King Alfred will continue his efforts to save others from whatever “pagan” means.  Lies are important, Zermon.  People never forget the truth, even when it’s a lie.

Sunday, December 13, 2015

The Compassionate Savage

A bit of fiction fun as our favorite Assling visits the Underworld.

Uhtread "The Last Kingdom"

Shevata gazed at the balrog with disgust as he sat on Zermon’s obsidian throne in Hell.  “Memdrigog, you know only two can sit this throne; Zermon, who is out terrorizing his realm, and me.  Get out of here.”
The balrog snapped his whip towards Shevata narrowly missing her ear.  She grabbed it’s end, snatching it hard, and with some effort, wrenched it from his grasp.  He growled.  She removed a white ball of light from her pocket and threw it at him; sparks like lightning flew all around him while he shrieked in pain.  She whipped him over and over until he left the throne and drove him to a nearby small pit.  “Jump in, Stupid!”  She threw another white ball at him.  When he shrieked in pain again, she whipped him a couple of more times and pushed him into the pit, filled with the lightning.  She moved a large flat obsidian disc to seal it. 

She looked at the surrounding demons, now silent.  “Have any of you got anything to say?  Good.”  Keeping the whip, she sat on the throne with weariness.  “Who’s next?” 
“Savages.”  Muttered a demon, handing her two scrolls.  A man and a woman were brought before her.  The woman was shouting demands to release her.  Shevata slammed the whip to her mouth, nearly severing her tongue. 
“Shut up, woman.  Where do you think you are, Valhalla?”  She opened her scroll.  “A savage, traveling through villages killing men, women and children just to steal.  No retraction of any deeds, no offering to anyone.”  She nodded to the demon.  “Throw her in.  I’m not into loud mouth savage women today.”    The man beside her watched in horror as the demons in the fire pit dragged her down. 

“Relax,” Shevata read the scroll closer.  “You’re a volunteer?”   The man nodded.   She turned to the demon, "Bring this idiot to my office.  And if Memdrigog escapes, if you don’t tell me, I’ll tell Zermon you were in his chair.” 

Shevata and the man sat in her office, him across from her in the chair.  She unrolled his scroll.  “Assling?  I’ve never met a savage named Assling.”
He smiled.  “That’s a nickname.  My name is Uhtred.”
“Well, Assling, who is Uhtred, you’re not supposed to be here.  Did you know the woman I cast away to the pits?”
“Yes, I did.  But I know I couldn’t save her.” 
“Who are you trying to save?” 
“A woman, called a pagans witch.  Her name is Iseult.  Is she here?” 
Shevata thought for a moment.  “No, I would’ve remembered such an unusual name.  But I’m familiar with your world and your time.”  She sifted through some scrolls and opened one.  “You served a King named Alfred?”
He looked shocked.  “Alfred would never be here.”
She smiled.  “No, his soul is quite pure.  He came to me for knowledge.  Many wise men do.”
“Did he learn anything from here?”
Shevata grinned.  “Did you?”   
He shrugged.  "I don't know."   
“Alfred learned that evil isn’t simple.  But faith is.  We get people of all shapes and sizes down here, and sometimes it doesn’t make sense, the things they do.  Men like Alfred are born once in a century in the most fortunate worlds.”
“So Iseualt has a soul?”  Shevata shrugged. 
“I don’t know because I don’t know her.  But if she was the kind of woman you were willing to give your soul up for, I’d guess she does.”  She handed him a gem that glittered in rainbow colors.  “This will guide you out of Hell.  Best to you, Assling.”  He nodded then left. 

Saturday, December 5, 2015

                                                Death and Punishment

A well known wizard visits the Underworld seeking information.  

Gandalf "Lord of the Rings"

“Who is the old man?”  Zermon swatted a demon into his fire pit.  “He carries a staff.  I don’t like it.  Send him to Sweetheart.”  A large demon escorted him away from the throne room. 

Shevata sat at her desk in her office in hell; always comfortable but never at home.  The door opened and an old man was escorted inside. He wore a white robe and had long white hair and beard.  “Name?” She said, raising an eyebrow. 
He started to bow.  “That’s not necessary, you know where you are.”  Shevata put a large chest on her desk.  “Who are you?”
“I am Gandalf.”
She rummaged through the chest tossing scrolls all around her, then brought out an elaborate scroll, unopened.  “Please sit.”  He sat across from her in a chair.  He propped his staff on her desk.  The demon reached for it.  “Don’t touch it.” Shevata snapped.  “Leave us.”  She opened the scroll. 
“Gandalf the White, wizard, Mithra..whatever, of the world Middle Earth,  you left for undying lands.  Well, Gandalf, if you’re from such a place, what could you possibly want in Hell?”
“I’m told your name is Sweetheart?”  His eyes sparkled.
“My name is Shevata.  Zermon likes to bother me.”  She put the chest on the floor and kept his scroll in front of her.  “Most come here to me seeking something.  What do you seek?”
“I want to know if the foes of Middle Earth are here.”
“You’re right to ask.  I just worry about the land.”
Shevata read down the scroll.  “We knew Sauron.  Zermon despised him, called him a weakling and threw him out.  Afterwards we heard he put his soul into a slave ring that got destroyed.  What a fool!”  She smirked. 
Gandalf frowned. “Is Morgoth still contained?”  Shevata nodded.
“The vortex holding Morgoth is in the deeper realm with a Devil.  Zermon didn’t want him, and it’s hard to escape if you get trapped down there.  Once I had to get Zermon out of a stench bog down there and he still smells.”
“The creature Gollum, and Saruman?”
“Gollum never rose from Hell’s flames.  Not enough soul.  Saruman’s not here.”
“Where is he?”
Shevata shrugged.  “Nowhere.”
Gandalf sat back.  “What did you do?”
“I killed his soul.” 
He turned away as if sick.  He looked back at her with disgust.  “Who are you to take a soul?”
“We are the place of death and punishment.  Zermon didn’t want him here, the Devil that has Morgoth for sure wasn’t taking him, so my options were limited.”
They walked together to the door.  “I know we disgust you, but we don’t choose who comes here.  Tell me, how are the, uh..” she peeked in the scroll..”Hobbits?”
“They are well with us.”
“But are they the same?”
Gandalf extended his hand and they shook hands briefly.  He said, “Should you have a change of heart, seek us out.”  Shevata smiled as she watched him leave with his staff.
Zermon walked in from behind.  “What was that old guy?”
Shevata sighed.  “Another good power uncomfortable with death and punishment.  That’s the purpose we serve.” 
Zermon walked away saying, “I don’t know what everybody’s problem is. We just clean up the mess.”

Sunday, September 13, 2015

The Queen’s Arrival

Cersei Lannister "Game of Thrones"

Let’s see how our favorite evil queen fares in the Underworld.

Shevata sat at her desk in Hell frowning as she read a long scroll detailing the life of a Queen who committed her first murder of an innocent girl her age at ten.  She grew up in a powerful family, had a incest relationship with her twin brother, and has been on a mission to have her dwarf brother killed over accusations lacking evidence he murdered her son. 
“Bring her in.”  Shevata put the scroll on her desk.
A beautiful full figured blonde woman stepped in, wearing lavish clothing, looking around Shevata’s well furnished office as if were a slum.  She sat in the chair across from her at the desk without invitation. 
Shevata picked up the scroll and tossed it toward her.  “What do you want, Cersei Lannister?”
She swatted the scroll away to the floor.  “I want my brother dead.  He will kill my youngest son next and you’re my last chance I have a protecting my boy.”
“You should have brought you son with you here for protection it that’s what you’re concerned about.  I’ve held others here while their world settles down, but it’s a case by case basis will I do such bidding.”
“No, you idiot!”  My son is King!  He is to rule and he can’t do that down here.  You must find my brother, bring me his head, and you will be richly rewarded,”  she sniffed at her and her room, “in any way you prefer.”
Shevata picked up the scroll from the floor.  “Did you know your lover brother has been to see me several times?  He wants me to punish him, but my companion declines his request for our fires.  What about you?  Do you have anything you’re willing to give up?”
Cersei blinked.  “What are you talking about?  That’s nonsense.  Jaime wouldn’t do something so foolish, and no, unless you have something for me, all I have to offer you is to have your tongue ripped out for saying such lies!”
Shevata smiled.  “Good luck with that.”  She shrugged, "let’s dispense with the threats.  Another arrived before you.”  A side door opened an Maggy the Frog stepped in, making herself comfortable on a couch. 
Cersei’s green eyes became wide with rage.  “You invite this woman here?  You are disgusting!”  She stood up to leave but Shevata lassoed her with a thin rope and tied her to the chair. 
“You leave hell when I say you leave.”
Maggy smiled and walked out of the room. 
“If you truly love another, you must give something up of yourself to help them here.  I won’t offer you anything else. “
Cersei remained silent.  Shevata pulled out a blue gem from her pocket and after saying a few words, Cersei screamed, then relaxed, like she felt better.  Shevata held the stone, now glowing.  “I’ll be watching you from here.  You can return to your world but now you know that hell will be your home.”  

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

The House

Game of Thrones "Jacqen H'gar"

Fan fun with Game of Thrones character meeting the lead character in the Gastar novellas.

Shevata walked around with amazement in the huge building known as the House of Black and White.  For a place of such mystery, it wasn’t really guarded and had almost nothing inside.  No furniture, no rooms set up for eating, bedrooms, and sparse areas for bathing and the sleep areas looked more like a barracks.  After taking a short self-guided tour, she nodded with satisfaction.  Zermon will like this place. A voice rose behind her.
“A girl visiting the Many Faced God?”  A striking man with hazel eyes seemed to glare through her. 
“No, just looking around.”
He smiled.  “A girl is not a girl at all.  A girl pretends to be a girl but is something else altogether.”
Shevata winced, concerned he could read her mind.  “It doesn’t matter what I am.  All that matters is who’s coming here.”
“A girl that’s not a girl brings the God of Death to the House of Black and White.” 
“Don’t call him that.  He hates being compared to that god.”
“Yet death comes.”
“Yes.  He brings lots of death wherever he goes.”
“So what is your part?  You help him?”
“I help him because if I didn’t, he’d do worse, trust me, I know.”
“When will he be here?”
“I summoned him.  Which means either in the next five minutes or five years.”  She walked to the wall of faces.  “They look the same to me.” 
He laughed.  “Of course they look the same to you.”
“You’re not human, just an immortal pretending to be a girl.”
“And what does that make you?”  She felt a sting in her neck, then pulled out a dart and threw it on the floor.  “Stop with the poison darts!”
He shrugged.  “It doesn’t hurt to try.” 
“Do you wish so much to kill me?”  She pulled out her golden jeweled dagger and presented it to him.  “Use mine.” 
He started to touch it and withdrew his hand.  “A girl wields a powerful weapon.  I don’t think so.”  She put it away.
“Would you prefer to make a deal with me, or my companion Zermon?”
“That’s an ill choice, but you, I suppose.”
“Can you find me a building like this one, open on the inside and empty?”
He thought for a moment.  “I can probably do that.”
“Good.  Let’s get it cleared out so we can get him set up there.  Hurry though.  If for once he’s ever on time, this place will no longer exist.  Firepits to hell will fill these floors.”
“A girl gave me a warning, then?”
Shevata smiled.  “A girl pretending to be a girl, right?”

Meeting the Boy

"Game of Thrones" Olly

Game of Thrones Olly meets Shevata in the Underworld.

Shevata sat at her desk in her office in Hell, with the lush design being a cold comfort to the conditions outside.   About every hour she’d hear a blood curdling scream of something terrible outside; it could be anything.  Zermon tortured demons often, some escaped, most were captured and tortured again.  She remembered never thinking of Hell until she first came here on a suicide mission to save human lives.  Now it’s almost home. 

A demon’s head was in the doorway.  “He’s here.”
“Bring him in at once.”  Shevata moved a small chair opposite to hers at her desk.  She found a pitcher of pomegranate juice, something she smuggled from home, and set up cups. 
The boy sat across from her, shaking with fear as the demon unchained him.  “I told you not to chain him up!”
“He’s stronger than he looks.  Be on your guard.”  The demon turned and left. 
She poured the juice into both cups.  “Is that what I’ll get from you, Olly?  Do you want to fight me too?” 
Tears welled up in his eyes.  “I want to go home!  I want my Mum and Dad!  We were farmers and they attacked us!  They ate my parents!”  He leaned forward sobbing. 
Shevata watched as he finally stopped crying.  “Have you finished?  Have some juice, it’s poison.”  She swallowed a gulp.  He took his cup and drank it down. 
“That’s really good.  It’s poison, really?  So I’ll die down here?”
“Well, you’ve died and you’re here by your decisions you made in your life.  Do you want to talk about it?  What happened after your parents were killed?”
“I joined the Night’s Watch.  Jon Snow made me his steward.  Then he betrayed us all by bringing Wildlings into the Wall.
Shevata unrolled a scroll.  “And you took part in murdering Jon Snow, who took you into his confidence, his special trust, and you killed him. “  She rolled the scroll up.  “Now Olly, for me to help you, tell me what you would give up for Jon’s life.  Anything?”
“What do you mean, give something up?”  His tear stained face looked up at her with frustration.
“The only way you have to make things better for you is to give up your soul for someone else.  That’s the best deal you’re going to get down here.”  She sipped the juice. 
He threw down the cup.  “No!  I won’t do it!”  Shevata grabbed him by the ear and they walked out the door.  “Where are you taking me?”
“To meet the boy.”  They reached the edge of Zermon’s fire pit, where he was shouting orders about air freshener. 
“Whoa!  Is that the Westeros kid?  That’s a messed up place.”  Zermon laughed.  “What’s his sentence?”
“He will meet the boy.”  Shevata leaned into the fire.  A crowned blonde demonic boy rose to the edge of the flames.  “Your Grace, this is a new boy.  Be a good lad and show him around down there.”  Olly’s screams faded as Joffrey yanked him into the flames. 
“Hell is getting worse by the day.  Children. Really Shevata?  What are my enemies going to say?”  Zermon swatted a winged demon away.
“They will want to meet the boy too.”