Song of the Blacksmith

         It read six AM on Scott's alarm clock, but only the sound of his light snoring was heard. At that moment, Chloe appeared in his room. She walked over to where he was sleeping and began to examine him. She looked for her blue dust. If it had worn off, she would have to go back to Heaven to make more. She did not have that kind of time, as those with suicidal backgrounds become more adamant about ending their lives if the dust wears off too quickly. This had made Chloe wary of using the dust, but all the other methods that didn't involve darts were way too weak for Scott's stubborn mind.

         She made her rounds, thoroughly inspecting his face and chest. The dust was still there, glowing light blue in the early morning sun. Several times, she thought she'd heard someone whisper her name. Stepping back, she looked at Scott. He seemed to be talking in his sleep...saying 'Chloe' in such a sotto voice that it wasn't known if he was saying unless one looked at his lips. She saw his lips form the consonants of her name and became worried. She was on her own, though. She couln't ask Edna for help.

         "But I do have my Palm," she muttered.

         With that, she unearthed her Palm and entered several commands. She reached a certain page and stopped, attempting to absorb all its data into her memory. After scanning the page, she turned off her Palm and stuck it in the back pocket of her navy blue jeans. She then ran her fingers through Scott's hair, unknowing that he could feel her presence in his semi-conscious state. He let out a contented sigh as she examined his scalp.

         "Nope," Chloe mumbled. "I don't feel any bumps."

         Chloe then backed away from Scott to take another look. He was smiling.

         "Maybe not," Chloe whispered.


         A while later, Edna perched herself onto a windowsill and took out her Palm. With numerous pointings of her stylus, she found the games menu and got to her favorite: Bejewled.

         If it wasn't for these games, Edna thought, I'd have gone off my rocker long ago.

         For her, Chloe had been a surprisingly diligent and independent student. Most of the time, students tended to be clingy, accident prone, stubborn, or without a clue altogether. It was those students that made Edna loathe her position as a mentor. To her, those were times that she was a blacksmith, crafting the couples before her apprentices' eyes. This time, it was a little different. It was Chloe who had made it a priority to get a case, and it was Chloe who was willing to sit for hours on end trying to find the best methods. She had ambition, and most importantly, she was smart. Despite her still present optimism, Edna decided that Chloe would do well in the end.

         "Edna?" a soft but ardent feminine voice called out.

         Having become lost in her game, Edna was startled and nearly fallen off the windowsill.

         "Kirsten! Don't do that!" Edna yelped.

         Kirsten simply laughed. "But it's so much fun," she said.

         "Well, I was having fun with this game," Edna said.

         A series of techno sounds made its clarion call before chipping in its two cents on the divine beings' conversation.

         "Game over," Edna's Palm said. "Score 12,000."

         "Damn!" Edna cursed. "I didn't beat my high score."

         Kirsten smirked. "It's always the country folk," she said.

         "What do you mean, Kirsten?"

         "I was just noting how it's always the ones raised in the country that become most engulfed in computer games and the like in this life."

         "Hey, now," Edna sweetly chided.


         Meanwhile, across town, Chloe had taken to milling around Scott's apartment as he continued to sleep. She was in the living room, admiring his massive book collection. His collection seemed to include a work from every subject known to mankind, but she realized that the books he was currently reading concentrated on propaganda. This didn't surprise her much.

         He's like a blacksmith, learning how to craft the words into a convincing story, she thought.

         At that notion, she shook her head. Her parents had wanted her to put her writing talents to use and become a journalist, but Chloe saw that as a betrayal to her soul. She had no desire to pay lip service to huge American corporations, which was what journalists on Earth did. Maybe the journalists in other countries weren't media whores for American corporations, but she reasoned that there was certainly some higher, more monetarily gifted power in charge of their words. She pitied Scott for wanting to choose this path in life. Perhaps Maya might catalyse a change in his desires.

         A grunt from the bedroom surprised Chloe. She glided back to the bedroom only to find Scott laying in bed, but he was now awake and staring out the window. Taking a close look at him, Chloe noted that he wasn't completely awake. She watched him stretch and heard him groan in pain as rubbed his lower back. He turned as if to face the other side of the room (where she was leaning against the doorframe), but she ran to his closet door, attempting to shield herself from his line of sight.

         Chloe, she chided herself, he can't see you!

         But she still couldn't shake the notion that he was aware of her.


         Meanwhile, in a cave thousands of miles away, three pairs of glowing crimson eyes idly floated. It was evident these eyes were waiting for someone. Just then, a larger set of crimson eyes appeared.

         "Polly, Frank, Ginny," a rumbling voice called.

         "Here, sir," Polly replied.

         "Master Satan!" Frank and Ginny yelped.

         "What is the current prognosis?" Satan asked, his voice shuddering the icicles hanging in the cave.

         "The seed has been planted, sir," Polly replied. "Scott can now see Chloe."

         "Children?" Satan asked Frank and Polly. "How did you help Polly?"

         "I sang, imitating Chloe," Ginny said.

         "I held the light," Frank said.

         "Excellent," Satan said. "Excellent work. Scott will fall to us in no time."

         "Master Satan, I have a question," Ginny piped up.

         "Yes?"

         "Why couldn't we just possess Scott?"


         Chloe sat on Scott's toilet as Scott showered. As she looked up some information on Maya in her Palm, she reviewed everything that had happened so far. Though watching Kirsten prompt them was intriguing and dusting Scott was exciting, Chloe suddenly felt very scared and small in spite of her power. A question soon edged its way into her consciousness.

         Do we keep our intution in this life?

         She had to know. Soon, she was striking a plethora of commands into her Palm.


         Scott squeezed out some shampoo and began to massage it into his dark brown locks.

         I need to get my hair cut soon, he thought.

         With that, he began to hum a little tune, something that to the average listener sounded just like two random beats. In reality, it was a mimicking of hammers hitting metal. Such rhythmically intense songs resonated with Scott. Continuing his humming, his rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. After a bit, he opened eyes...and saw a sweet vision, a vision of a petite brunette in his bathroom. For a while, he stared at the girl as she went about looking up things in her Palm. As she shut off her Palm, he returned to reality.

         I'm meeting Maya today at Donaldson Park, he thought, and with that, he finished showering.

         Chloe, meanwhile, moved back into Scott's room. Her search on her Palm hadn't been entirely successful. All she learned that intution was genetic in all creatures, but was she a creature? For some reason, she didn't think so. She shrugged the thought off and lamented how she didn't have her darts. Edna wouldn't let her have them during the observation period. Chloe thought of how perfect it would be if she could get Maya with the dart as she mingled with Scott in the park. Soon, wayward words ventured into her mind and (just as suddenly) out of her mouth in a sotto alto:

Oh, the love that flows through my veins-
how I cannot feel it!
That love is not for me.
That is something that I do know.
But I feel it anyway.
It's plethoric all around me.
So I dance and revel in it,
but will it ever last?

         Her sudden singing took her by surprise.

         Did I just sing? I haven't sung in years.

         Singing was not one of Chloe's strongest traits in spite of her almost velvety pipes. She had stopped singing because she saw it bring bad luck to her matchmaking attempts. This time around, it seemed to have snuck up on her.

         Not good, she thought.

         By this time, Scott had emerged from the bathroom and was getting dressed. Chloe decided that now was the time to get to Donaldson Park. She had an inkling that if she stuck around any longer, Scott might see her, and she'd be in so much trouble if Scott tried to talk to her.

Fantasia on the 'Dargason'