A Filter Not Too Fine And Not Too Coarse

Tig raised his head and flattened himself again a few times before he decided that between committing to the greatest peril and creeping away, he preferred to have money. He ascended, against the objections of his heart and trembling legs, and paused again to survey the floor, the highest but one in the sorcerer's tower.
It could not be so easy. Not a single guard, snare, or lock had slowed his ascent, but only his own misgivings. There before him were arrays of materials and apparatuses presumably mystical in their applications set out on tables, sorted on shelves, perched on trunks, and spred across the floor. With so much, nothing could be left for the highest floor but the owner himself. Certainly there was some trap there, but perhaps one calibrated for the sorcerer's colleagues. Penury meanwhile had both certainty and relevance to Tig's sort exactly.
He therefore informed his heart no further remonstrations would be welcome and set about looking for the most valuable items. His excitement dimmed somewhat as he went along.
"It has been some time now, yet, what? Empty-handed? Does nothing of mine appear valuable to you?"
The sorcerer's words startled every part of Tig, a good thing or else the violence of the effect on some portions of his body would have caused an uneven jerk that would have torn him into thirty sections. Instead, the simultaneous operation of all his components resulted in total paralysis.
The sorcerer beside him had by contrast nothing but ease in his manner. "It isn't. Only I would buy any of this, within fifty miles that is. The capable merchant is someone who realizes sorcerous items are for sorcerers, the clever opportunist turns around upon finding the door unlocked, then comes you, and after that the other thieves, all of them grabbing and trying to sell my things before they realize. That place where you are is what I want in an agent for buying and selling. You won't like the job, but what of that?"
The sorcerer was mistaken as to that last point, but in no way did that diminish the efficacy of his hiring policy.
Finis

Dream-Vision of the Inescapable Tomb

In a strange shop, not strange to me whose delight it long was to search out dubiously precious curiosities, pig-like, but strange to economists whose theories were upset by the continued existence of that and similar patently unprofitable establishments, I came across a purportedly antique jar which bore designs impossible to mistake for authentic but nevertheless to my taste. I bought the thing and spent the evening hours contemplating it, tracing with a thoughtful nail the figures thereon and imagining the scenes depicted in lively fullness. A sense developed in me, I cannot explain it, of anticipation, that the actions shown awaited still their sequel, but the nature of either part I could not discern. Then imperious Hypnos called upon me, and reluctantly I set my treasure aside.
That night I dreamt, I must have, that I was in a chamber I knew to be the tomb of Menethkarses, knowledge impossible to have since no living man knew anything of that place or that name. Nevertheless I knew that and more, and knowing I watched with growing horror while dread Menethkarses, by foul fate risen again, moved with one step after another closer tothe great portal intended once as a ward against robbers but now the last and shoddy bulwark against an implacable power as sure to dominate the world by means of unfathomable sorceries as the gun must triumph over beasts.
Closer, and closer, and closer the awful wrapped thing walked till, amazing to say, I awoke from that which was no dream. It was my clock which roused me, another curiosity, but one far different in characte,r for I never had anything from it but amusement when it rang the twelfth hour. In the space between the first chime and the last, the hoary knowledge which for a time I had as an unwelcome companion departed, blessedly so or else I had never been able to endure it, except for this, that with the close of that Halloween day ended also the danger, that Menethkarses even then retraced his steps toward his sepulchural bed. How narrowly were we saved, I marveled, and that we had been saved every year for these past several thousand years, and ever would, for that ancient conjurer was unlikely to increase his pace, at his advanced age.
Finis

An Alluring Wagon

A wanderer out on a moon-rich night saw a wanderer of a different sort and addressed him.
"Spirit, how is it that you met your end? Is there danger hereabouts which I am better off knowing?"
"Stranger, this region has the story of a wagon that has no driver nor team to drive it but moves about regardless. We aren't surprised to see it settle beside us on a night like this, where it waits a spell for the passenger to embark and be taken away. Should he not, there's nothing more to it."
"Why then should a man climb on, or why did you?"
"I will pray with what voice I have left to me that you never come to know. Good luck on your journey, traveller."
"And on yours, traveller." The man watched the other fade away.
Finis

Tales From the Meeting

Our story tonight takes place in a certain conference room. It could be anywhere. It could even be . . . in your town.

"There's no use trying to minimize it. From the numbers I'm looking at, it seems like our latest municipal advertising campaign is simply unlikely to justify the expenditure given our targets."
"I don't believe it. Everyone likes parks."
"Unfortunately, it turns out that's true. They like them so much they already have them. Our next campaign needs a new, fresh, exciting focus. Anyone?"
"Our natural beauty?"
"We don't have any."
"Our skate parks?"
"The popular ones are illegal."
"Maybe we should just, you know, tell everyone about the vampires and werewolves. And so on."
"And so on, right, but Dan, we've been trying so hard to keep that a secret. You know that. Why would you want to scare them away?"
"Yeah, but, see, it's fall. Specifically, October."
"And?"
"And the judge of the big contest for the best-carved large orange-colored gourd is the king of vampires, which means if advertise that, and I think we should, people will ask who this guy is and why he's such a big wheel."
"I hate to say it, but you might be right."

There you have it. Another clutch of fools and their worthless initiative saved . . . by SERENDIPITY. "But surely not every decision is made this way," you protest. If only you knew. If only you knew! Muhahahaha!
Finis

Characteristics of a Champion

As a young man inclined toward droopiness and acquainted with the slouch entered the clearing, a voice belonging to no body spoke.
"Turn back, for those who enter the mysterious forest become lost in its wandering ways without its secret, one not learnable through woodcraft. Wait. Did I not warn you of this already?"
"You did, but I didn't get lost at all," the youth complained before tromping ahead into the depths.
Hours later, an interval shorter than usual, the voice spoke again to address a fellow coming into the clearing as to his peril. "Turn back, for, hold, you again? How can this be?"
"I keep getting magically whisked outside every time I reach the heart of the forest or whatever it's called," he said while scratching his neck. "I thought I was supposed to be trapped here forever, unable to return home. Might you instruct me a little in the forest's purpose?"
"Astonishing. Could you be the one capable of reaching the truth of this world by unerring routes? Should you become my instrument, wielding my powers beyond the wooded confines, how much might be accomplished!"
"If that's an excuse to go far away, I'll do it."
And so a new legend began.
Finis

Gigantic Supply

The giant Oyazar hit on a great scheme. He kicked his way through the mountains and charged the humans a toll for using the pass he made. His work and smarts made him rich in goats.
His wealth was not ignored by the other giants, who rushed to trample out their own passes. The fools leveled the whole range, they made it a plain, they ruined Oyazar's business and got none of their own. He wished the worst upon them and said everything he could, but he knew better than to talk all day instead of doing.
His next job was raising cities for the humans, great things with walls, and as many fortunes as they paid him they knew it was cheaper than doing it themselves. It was a good career, but the other giants ruined that too by competing instead of colluding. Before anyone could count them all humans had cities everywhere they wanted them at lower prices than they should have brought in. Oyazar was back to selling off his goats.
"Those oafs! They've got to be handled!" He went on in that way to a clever human he had met in his wall-building.
"Now that I've heard the whole thing, pay me one or two of those fortunes, you won't miss them, and I'll tell you how to fix those giants up."
Oyazar liked the plot as much as any of his own. His friend acted out paying him while they were near wells. When the other giants found out, they were always spying of course, they gave the friend a bit to find out what it was for and heard it was for sinking wells straight down, just stomping the earth out of the way faster than what any shovel could do. They offered the same service to every hamlet they came across, dug deep down, and all drowned or starved before they remembered to make sure they could get back up.
After that Oyazar was the last giant. He did things only giants could do and earned plenty of goats.
Finis

A Fair Start For Posterity

"The kingdom flourishes! Piracy has been suppressed, bandits with few exception are dead or reformed, and the ancient evil has again been sealed. What is more, the treasury is at its capacity. Therefore, my subjects, your taxes for the next three years will be collected not in currency, but in items which future generations will find useful."
They say the king himself crossed the realm, placing potions in chests and lockpicks in barrels as he went. Smiths and magical artisans had leisure to develop their skills to perfection that they might fashion arms and amulets for which that halcyon period had no use, which is why they're all at full durability.
"But what about the chickens, fish, and things like that I find in ruins sometimes?"
Another age yet is the source. We will speak of it again when you have gained a little more experience.
Finis

Close and Constant Supervision's Cold and Cruel Impositions

The man lifted the vial as if to let the light expose concentrated specks of its lethality. "Finally I have required the perfect poison to do away with him. Swift, sure, and, because of my circumspection in acquiring it, incapable of giving me away. I would have preferred to have effected a false reconciliation in order to prevent suspicion at all, but were he at all capable of compromise, I wouldn't need to remove him in the first place."
The man was still admiring the devilish mixture when his butler eased open the study door and presented a salver on which rested a few sheets of paper. "The latest divine proclamations, sir."
"Hmph. I suppose one ought to keep abreast of such things. Let's see. 'In view of the recent battle at Iestol Fields . . . charge bonus reduced by 3 . . . axe wounds have increased chance of infection . . . crafting skills . . . recipes moved from haberdashery list to milliner list . . .' What! 'Poisons in their current state have limited counterplay?!' That's why I wanted to use it! 'The chance of death on the first application has been lowered across the board . . .' My efforts and expense have come to nothing!"
"Very good, sir. Shall I engage an ax instructor?"
"Yes. He can start by demonstrating on me. If I survive, find me priests willing to beg the gods not to update quite so often. How can we make plans as things stand?"
"Most inconvenient, sir."
Finis

How the Spider Got Its Creepy Legs

One day when the animals got together, as they often did formerly, they spoke of the latest invention of men which excited their envy. It was gambling. Snake alone was unimpressed.
"Gambling is too easy if you're smart," Snake declared. "Why, I could bet that the sun will shine forever and never lose!"
The animals praised Snake's wisdom except for Spider. "I don't know about that. My webs fall apart no matter how big and beautiful I make them. Why should the sun be any different just because it's bigger and more beautiful?"
With that, the animals at last had gambling of their own. They faced a problem though.
"Men invented money to go along with their betting. What do we have to lose or gain?" Owl asked.
"Snake has that hissing tongue," Spider observed. "I'll take that!"
"Not my hissing tongue! You can have my limbs instead if I lose, but I'll take yours when I win."
"Done!"
The animals parted happily. In all the days afterward it never occured to Snake that the terms of the bet were chosen poorly. He simply waited for forever to arrive. Then, one day, the sun was hidden by the moon. Snake's legs and arms shriveled up and fell off forthwith for Spider to claim. Snake still slides around in search of winning bets. Gamblers don't learn!
Finis

An Inquisition Intolerable

The adventurer stepped down to the floor, checked his map, and made an addition. On it was proof, to those who understood, of the challenges behind him. There was not a room or passage recorded there which had not some danger from an arsenal of traps, sentinels, and possessive spirits.
Even crossing the entrance was a triumph never before achieved in all the centuries over which the bold, curious, and greedy sought hints to the location of the fabled vault sunk in the earth by a king of whom nothing still was known save for the wondrousness of his possessions. How deep the vault went and what was its extent, none knew, but he presumed when he entered a chamber with no other exit in any direction that he had reached the ultimate point.
A jumble of materials in the center stirred and coalesced into a great face which began to speak.
"The final trial for the seeker of my master's treasure is a riddle. Listen well, for but once will I ask it."
"A riddle? Never mind."
The adventurer ascended forthwith, reversed his journey, and sold his maps to someone willing to put up with that sort of nonsense.
Finis

The Meed of Use

When men were chosen as judges in the contest, their role being to decide who deserved the laurels of the most useful, the nominated animals did not so much resort to bribery as leap to it. The cows called on their crow friends to find baubles, the chickens arranged with lizards for the secrets of the earth to be brought forth, and as for the pigs, they tricked the others out of many of their offerings by their wiles.
The cicadas, those gossipers, went to the gods to tell them of the shameless cheating, but the gods laughed at it. "Would they be as energetic as they are if they knew! There is no risk of favoritism from judges who will soon eat and skin them all equally, third place to first!"
Horrified, the cicadas tried to warn the world that the projects of the gods are ghoulish amusements not meant for our good. They still do. But none heed them for the annoyance.
Finis

The Capital Council

Within the fastness of Haug Heikur was a chamber which none but the master may open. In it were kept eight heads of men long dead which by sorcerous means were preserved and compelled to answer questions put to them in full candor.
This is known when little else of what goes on in that dismal citadel is, for its master Affjesarr boasts often of the excellent advice he had always at hand. One day when Affjesarr again vaunted his chamber, the man Pyolurr furthered a reputation he had won for cleverness.
"Had I occasion to assemble a council, I should prefer men who had not suffered so signal a reduction with regard to their persons."
Within the fastness of Haug Heikur is a chamber which none but the master may open. In it are kept nine heads of men long dead.
Finis

Components of a Sword

"Present yourself, boy." Said boy was perhaps too old to be still a boy, but he certainly did not measure up as a man. As a worker either given his saunter, but he presented himself before the moon renewed itself. "Take this to Linten to have it melted down."
The boy gave the blade a squinting examination. "Why? It's shaming nobody as it is."
The armorer regretted saying a single word more than he needed, but it was done, and now his nature rebelled against the impulse to cuff him, which came after all from mere general dislike. Also, his assessment was correct; possibly he could be turned to use. "It is in fine condition considering the dozens of criminals it has slain in the executioner's hands. Close to a hundred overall."
"Oh, it's that? 'A hundred deaths of men and the demon inside the sword awakens.' But that isn't a warning for a normal sword like this, surely. When a master brings forth a special works, then worry."
"How can a sword be forged and not have a demon in it? Take it thither."
The boy looked the blade over again with more respect, more inspiration. "Even this? It seems a shame not to try, if we have one this close. All right, fine, don't strain your hand by raising it. Observe my dispatch."
There are times when an explanation is not better for being fuller. There are people who are not improved for being more informed.
Finis

To Rejoin Society

One day, three travelers came to the Abdal Springs, and all for the same reason. The caretaker explained the ways of the place.
"There are three chambers here to contain three springs with these properties. One cleanses the pollution of great crimes, one of moderate crimes, and one of petty crimes. Decide yourself which suits you."
The three went each to his own choice, and the caretaker spoke to each when he emerged.
"You chose the great spring for all that no one else would judge your crime to be so enormous as that. There is evidence of a humble and conscientious understanding, and you will be blessed for it."
"You chose the small spring for your small crime. Your perception is unclouded even regarding yourself, the obscurest subject, and you will be blessed for it."
"You chose the middle spring, proof that your way is to find what is easiest. The spring was free, you heard moderation is commendable, and with that decided there was no need to consult remorse, moral judgment, a sense of social responsibility, or anything else that is hard. Your pollution is washed away, but the cloud which hangs about dullards hangs thick on you. You will be the happiest of all."
Finis

An Unconventional Form of Direct Subsidy

When every other method failed, the lonely subject of Huthany had recourse to the professional matchmaker. One suffering heart had a recommendation from no less a personage than Commodore Frangest. "Uncle Teddy's the one you want to see. New in the field, but has resources beyond most."
This person was not to stubborn to accept advice and therefore took himself to Uncle Teddy's store; the fact that such existed already impressed. A secretary, another surprise, took his name and entered the depths soon to be replaced by Uncle Teddy himself holding a sheaf of papers, a sight which astonished for several reasons.
"I see you completed militia service and are adequately tall. Excellent. I'll put you with someone nice and tall forthwith."
"May I ask a question?"
"Certainly."
"Aren't you, I hope this doesn't sound absurd, the king?"
"We are Theodoric IV, correct. Now I expect a pregnancy reported within eight months or else there will be additional fee for wasting our time."
"Your Majesty, why, I beg upon your mercy leave to ask a second question, why are you working as a matchmaker?"
"You noticed everyone's height in the militia of course. Nothing is more strategically important. Two inches taller at the minimum, three inches at the average, and no army on the continent will match ours," the king explained. "We are not unreasonable however. No penalty fee applies should your children fail to measure up. If, on the contrary, you produce acceptable army candidates, you will receive a bounty per head. It's amazing we can stay in business, but you'd be a fool not to take advantage."
"I do see that, Your Majesty."
Finis

The Richest of Savory Meals

The far-ranging travels of Gaunatico and Duir did not except the town of Euspath.
"Euspath is a name familiar to me for an unclear reason. Clarify it," Gaunatico instructed his manservant.
"Euspath's notoriety, sir, is for its virtue, specifically the probity of its citizens."
Nor did their stay put the lie to that reputation. The locals mentioned nothing about bribes, charged prices unable to be construed as exorbitant, and caught up to them bearing the items they pretended to lose with the thought of engineering an excuse. Aside from that, the town had as much of interest as any other. Upon their retirement for the evening Gaunatico proposed to move on the next day, a plan to which Duir had no mind to object. Both slept easily and thoroughly.
They awoke chained to the ground before a pit which blessed them by concealing its depth and contents. The floor was hard, the air close, and worst of all, the place was unfurnished. Behind them, a man spoke.
"Welcome, visitors. I will initiate you into our local custom. First I will employ this dagger which I hold above you, examine it if you like, to cut out your sins. Second I will cast your sins into that pit before you, likely you have surveyed it already, as meals for my creation. Third, you will have left town by then, my creation will emerge and wreak such massacres as will excite the literary imagination for generations. Now then."
The sorcerer yanked back Duir's head and sliced down his chest from which he pulled a dark mass. He did the same to Gaunatico. Both marveled, for neither bled or was harmed at all. The two masses flew above them into the pit, whence soon they heard the terrible sound of a beast's feeding. An awful roar followed that, then silence.
The man walked to the edge and looked down. "It's dead. I didn't expect that. What do you get up to out there? Please don't tell me, since I am no hardier than my poor abomination. I will release you now."
"Don't hurry if it puts you out," Gaunatico told him. "I feel refreshed as I haven't in years. I might stay for a month."
"Please don't," the sorcerer begged.
Finis

The Fly's Gratitude

One day the great progenitor came upon the fly in distress. "Help me!" it cried. "I'm on this weed over here but I want to be on that one!"
The great progenitor, wise, with no thought of gain, suggested, "Have you tried flying there?"
The fly did so and was amazed at the success of the plan. "Thank you! Someday I'll come to your aid in return!"
"In what way could you ever aid me?"
"I don't know!"
Ever since then flies have flitted about us, hoping one day to be of use.
Finis

Immortal Accommodations

"As for where we go after death and what we do, there is nothing but mystery," the wise man finished.
The listening king thought that over. "We are guilty of an oversight then if we, who have been sure to provide for our living subjects, fail to do the same for our dead. We must set off a park for them alone we will call "heaven" and furnish it. What do the dead like to have?"
Without any pause such as a less thoughtful man might have needed, the wise man said, "Your Majesty, it is universally observed that the corpse grows cold and hard. Unquestionably a warm bath would soothe them handsomely."
"Very good. We will have a warm bath put in and beside it, on tables, bowls of porridge easy in the eating."
All this was done, and soon the dead visited heaven, not only those of the kingdom but from without also. Even when the king imposed a fee on the foreign dead, that did not deter them. The removal of currency worried other rulers with the result that they forbade their dead the journey, but the people revolted over it. In the end they made their own heavens and each land had its own, and later each town as well, funded by its guilds.
Finis

An Echo of Two Thousand Years

Ennraeso paused before the gap in the unearthed wall, overcome. "Gentlemen. It was our grandfathers who began the work of deciphering the Yuyingi script unread for over two thousand years. It was our fathers who scoured the land and wandered through documents in their search for remains of that civilization formerly sorted among the annals of fancy rather than history. It is we who will consummate the great endeavor."
Terefesso, Uillanso, Iflenso, and Raalhu bowed their heads as if they only then felt the weight of their inheritance despite having contributed to it themselves through worthy exertions. The other men felt nothing of the momentary emotion, but as laborers they understood the satisfaction at the end of a long job done ably.
At last Ennraeso's agitation settled and he penetrated a silence older than history. His pace was steady and his direction sure despite the obscurations of time. The settlement had been small and built for a simple purpose, that of providing what Vgounde's limitless genius required. Nowhere but the center could have been allotted for the residence of that peerless master of wisdom and every elevated art.
Inside Vgounde's study, what they expected, what they hoped, what they yearned to find, they found. Text, inscribed in the walls, etched in tablets, and written on scrolls, everywhere text in the Yuyingi script so long lost but now reclaimed. Ennraeso, his belly a battlefield between hesitation and eagerness, took hold of a scroll and manfully unrolled it.
"I, Vgounde, leave this message for the one who will read this two thousand, three hundred eight years from today. Ahaha, what are you doing, man? Hardly anyone can read this stuff right now while I'm alive. Yeesh! Why should they learn? So they read out temple accounts when the girls pass by on the way to the well? Pfft. That doesn't impress our ladies, Ennraeso, and not yours either. I have foreseen this.
"Listen, brother. Listen. It's not too late to learn a real skill. Try saddle-making. We don't even have saddles! That's how dumb we are! You want to benefit from our ancient knowledge? Ain't got none, hahaha. Whew! What a waste of time.
"I feel bad for you, I really do, so I left one little bit of magic we have that you don't in this room. You don't need it yourself, but in eighty-three years people will think of you sometimes. All right, I have to be a little honest here or the gods will take away my gifts. They're going to declare you an unequaled benefactor of mankind and the model for all scholars. No, really, they will, but brother, this is it. You can already read enough. Now get out there and pick up an instrument. One of those deals with a bunch of parts we don't have words for. We've just got wood with holes in it, man! Haha, have a good evening, Ennraeso! Oh, by the way, your butler has already sold off most of your silver. You got pewter in those cabinets, brother."
"I thought so. I must send a letter to dismiss him," Ennraeso said, unruffled.
Finis

The First Shaping of the Land

Shortly after the world was created, there was land and nothing else, and flat land to boot. There was nothing of interest. Animals roamed without purpose.
By miraculous chance, First Horse and First Bee. Bored, they exchanged a few boasts.
"Behold how I fly," First Bee proclaimed. "What do your legs do?"
First Horse snorted and kicked the ground, crumpling it up into valleys and hills. "So much for not having strong legs. What can you do?" He showed his contempt further by spitting. The salive dribbled into the valleys and started up the rivers.
"Lord! Master! Great one! I admire what you did. I'll make a new home for you to rest half the day after you perform your feats." First Bee flew up and made the first beehive for First Horse. We call it the sun.
That was how the work of creation began. As for everything else, the oceans, the mountains, the lakes, plateaus, forests, clouds, corn, all else there is, First Pig was busy inventing it at the same time but he never got much honor for it. Things usually go similarly today.
Finis